#truthfully i was the same when i first became an army

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

A 'Thank You' Gift

Rating: explicit Ship: Halsin/Tav (Reader)/Zevlor Tags: threesome, biting, dom halsin, sub zevlor, afab reader, 2nd person pov, smutt with feelings, tail sex Summary:

Zevlor's been ignoring you the whole party, and you've been letting him get away with it. Luckily, Halsin isn't about to let the two of you spend the whole night sneaking glances and drowning your sorrows in wine.

Also under the cut.

It has been a long week. Ever since the Mindflayer ship plucked you from your cozy life, stuck a tadpole in your eye and promptly crashed. That week had only been made longer by an army of goblins standing between you and the man who was supposed to be your cure. Unfortunately for you, life has dealt you a really, really shitty hand.

At least it has its good moments. Ones where it puts a glass of wine in your hand and lets you observe the increasingly rambunctious party from a cushy seat around the fire. You had dragged a pillow over here, hoping that maybe it might give someone the hint to find and seek out your company. A particular tiefling who’s been giving you side-long glances ever since you saved his people from a pack of goblins threatening to crash down the only gate standing in their way. You had pretended not to notice at first – truthfully, you had thought it was a trick of your mind, but the hellfire eyes always following you through the camp, practically trained on you like you were the only one in the whole wide world, gradually became harder and harder to ignore. You had visited the tiefling camp a handful of times after meeting them, saving wayward children and getting your new friend a patch job for her heart, and each time he’d be out of his office, pretending to survey the camp and trying to find every excuse to talk to you. You’d had several small, light conversations with your party members around and a few more in-depth conversations about all manners of things when you’d camped there.

Yet he hasn’t said a word to you the whole party. He’s stood there next to Halsin, sipping his wine stiffly. Even when Halsin cracked a few jokes to him he merely offered a clipped, weak laugh. That hasn’t stopped you from trying to beckon him over with your eyes, all the while pretending you’re staring at Halsin.

“You’re absolutely pathetic,” Astarion drawls, dropping himself on the log next to you.

“What?” you grunt, barely turning your head to him.

“Look at you! You can’t even turn your head properly to speak with me. It’s bad enough we have to play witness to him acting like someone stuck a spear up his ass and planted him in the ground, don’t force me to watch you do the same. You’ve been over here for an hour giving him a longing look that belongs in overdramatic, drawn-out romance novels,” Astarion sighs, sipping his wine to refresh his parched mouth. “Don’t try to deny it. I can practically smell it in your blood. A thundering, heady arousal.”

“I am not looking at him,” you lie, shifting your gaze fully to Halsin as if to prove a point. At least his biceps provide ample enough distraction.

Astarion breaks into laughter. A mocking, joyous laughter riddled with sinful amusement. You attempt to bury your face in your wine glass, hoping that maybe the wine will make your blood smell foul to him, and he’ll scamper away.

“Darling, don’t try to deny it. The two of you have been dancing around each other since you knocked that sniveling brat out before he even got the chance to throw a punch. Like you couldn’t stand the thought of a bruise marring his skin,” Astarion points out, taking another sip from his glass. “This may very well be your last chance to do anything about your budding romance. Unless you want to be plagued by ‘what if’s until we succumb to this wriggling in our skulls.”

“I’m not looking at him; I’m looking at Halsin,” you insist, hating how your brain loops his unfortunately good advice. You should never have let him raid your collection of wine when he started whining about what he had.

“Hm, maybe you can get him to join in two. He seems more than amicable, considering the hunger that practically roars in his blood every time he catches sight of you,” Astarion says, swirling the remaining win in his glass.

As if on cue, Halsin finally catches your lingering gaze and cocks an eyebrow. Then, much to your horror, his brow furrows, and he retraces the line your eyes are drawing back to Zevlor – when had your gaze wandered back to him? – and his mouth forms a very small ‘o’ shape. Then he grins widely and winks at you. Your face flushes. You won’t deny that Halsin is incredibly attractive, but he hadn’t given you any hints that he felt the same about you, and – then he tosses his arm around Zevlor’s shoulders, steering him toward the fire. You feel panic rise up in your throat as Zevlor tries to find some way to refuse Halsin but comes up short as the other man says something you can’t hear (if only you could read lips). At least Halsin’s smiling about it.

Right?

Conveniently, Astarion frowns at his suddenly empty glass. “Would you look at that? I’m out of wine. I suppose that’s my clue to leave then. Ta ta, darling, I wonder if we still have any of that good stuff left!” Astarion practically giggles as he saunters off in search of more wine. You’re fairly certain he’s already drank through the “good” wine you’d nicked from a crashed caravan.

Unfortunately, you don’t have enough time to call after him to inform him of such. Mere moments after he’s slipped away, you’re flanked on either side by unexpected company. Halsin sits easily on the log, stretching out his feet and looking rather pleased with himself. While Zevlor sits rigid posture, his tail tucked neatly around his crossed legs. He looks positively uncomfortable, and you can’t help but feel a little downtrodden. Had Astarion not fake gagged while digging through your wine collection. As if he could smell the three of you from all the way across camp.

“Ah, that’s much better,” Halsin sighs, warming his hands against the fire. “It gets so cold at night, even with the wine.”

“You should have stood closer to Zevlor then. He’s radiating heat so much I’m afraid he’s got an infernal engine for a heart like Karlach,” you quip without thinking. It’s the truth; Zevlor feels like he’s on fire.

The moment the words leave your mouth, he tries to scooch a little further away. You mentally scold yourself for the comment as he curls further into himself while trying to maintain that air of confidence and protection for the tieflings.

“That’s why I put him next to you – you seemed awfully cold over here, even with the fire. You were staring at it so intensely, as if engaged in a battle of wits with it,” Halsin comments, catching Zevlor moving out of the corner of his eye.

“I can move closer if you’d like me to. I wouldn’t want our host catching a cold I could have prevented,” Zevlor offers, his previously hidden confidence poking its head out from the rock he’d hidden it under.

Now is as good a time as any, you suppose. Grab life by the balls and all that.

“Actually, I was thinking of going for a walk and trying to think of a way to bring the fire with me. I need to clear my head; the camp’s rather loud for me,” you state because it’s partially true. You were thinking of a walk before Astarion butted in, but it wasn’t because the camp was loud. You were trying to mentally map out a good location to rub one out so you stopped acting like an utter buffoon. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to come along…”

Halsin catches on immediately. There’s a look in his eyes as he straightens up, rolling his shoulder. “I’m never one to refuse an invitation to partake in nature’s beauty,” he grins, the words rolling off his tongue like honeyed wine. As if Astarion had been right and he had been waiting for an invitation.

“A walk… a walk might do me good,” Zevlor agrees, and you can’t help but share a look with Halsin. Of course, the subtext of your invitation would be lost on him.

“Then we’ll make it a good walk! Come, follow me,” Halsin declares, standing from his seat and offering his hand out. You take it as Zevlor pushes himself stiffly to his feet.

You manage to catch Zevlor’s gaze as you follow after Halsin, ignoring the quiet whispers of acknowledgement that flicker through the camp upon your departure. You offer Zevlor a small smile, and he quickly looks away, radiating so much heat it feels as if you never left the fire. You let your hand brush against his just to feel his heat roar, blanketing you in pleasant warmth. His tail swishes rapidly behind him as he attempts to feign ignorance about it. Zevlor’s nowhere near Karlach’s fires – you can only notice his heat because you’re walking side by side. If you were a few inches further apart, you’d feel nothing but the cool night air. It only prompts you to cozy up closer to him, letting your hand brush against his as your heartbeat thunders in your ears.

The three of you walk in silence for at least ten minutes. A good distance away from camp that will certainly hide any debauched sounds from reaching the party. And if they did, they’d be lost in the haze of music and laughter. Halsin has even managed to pick somewhere beautiful – a small meadow with tiny white spots of clover in the grass and a brilliant view of the night sky. He stops rather promptly in the middle of it, taking a deep breath, his head tilted up to the moonlight.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you comment, breaking the silence.

“It would be a shame to waste it,” Halsin agrees, with a soft, patient smile on his face. Even still, you can feel him undress you with his gaze, as if taking great care to remove each and every piece.

“We could have chosen no better night for a party. There hasn’t even been a cloud to blot out the stars,” Zevlor nods, standing stiffly at your side.

“You were the one who decided to have a party. This is all thanks to you –“ you take his hand gently, clasping it between both your own and staring into his wide eyes. His hand radiates warmth between yours – “I mean it, thank you. You have helped far more than you give yourself credit.”

“I only did what was right,” Zevlor argues, making no move to pull his hand free. Yet his gaze flickers to Halsin, who’s patiently watching their conversation.

“You did more than that. You risked giving us shelter when you knew the druids were already unhappy with you, you’ve been nothing but kind each time I visit camp, and you helped me find Halsin, bringing me closer to a cure. If you’d like, I want to thank you properly,” you confess, rubbing absent-minded circles into his skin with your thumb.

“And I as well – I might never have escaped my captors had you not set them on my trail,” Halsin chimes in, having circled around behind Zevlor. His hand hovers next to Zevlor’s neck, ready to brush aside his hair at a moment’s notice.

“You – I – well, I didn’t – please state it plainly,” Zevlor protests, his gaze flickering around, ready to bolt frightened deer.

Halsin walks back around him, noticing his discomfort immediately. You let go of his hand to give him the freedom to leave if he wants.

“We want to spend the night with you. Naked and intertwined. But only if you want,” you state, laying all the cards out on the table for him. Halsin nods in confirmation rather than echoing your words.

“Oh - oh. I didn’t dare hope that you would be interested in someone like me. I’ve been a fool; I apologize – I should not have assumed. It was wrong of me to –“ Zevlor starts to ramble, and you know if you do not cut him off, he’ll never stop.

So, you reach forward and cup his cheek, lifting his gaze to yours. “Zevlor, is that a yes?”

“By the Nine Hells, please,” he begs, melting into your touch.

“He’s begging already, and we haven’t even started yet,” Halsin chuckles light-heartedly, circling back around him. He drags his knuckles down Zevlor’s tail, and Zevlor shudders, gasping. “When was the last time someone touched you like this? Surely there are others who have sought to pray with their lips against your skin.”

“Years –“ Halsin wraps his hand around his tail – “It’s been years. Not since before Elturel fell. Even then, no one…”

“Have you had sex before?” Halsin pries as you step forward, carefully weaving your fingers into the knots of Zevlor’s armour.

“Yes. Just not many times. Something would always come up – my life never had time for such matters,” Zevlor confesses, sharp teeth biting into his lip to stifle a moan as Halsin drags his hand down his tail.

“Then we’ll make this a night to remember,” you declare, undoing the ties to his chest plate and easing it off him. He has a simple tunic underneath until Halsin lifts it off as well. Zevlor freezes, staring at you with wide, fearful eyes, feeling Halsin’s hands trace the ingrown wings on his back. Quickly, you pull at the hem of your shirt and toss it to the side. Then you take his hands and place them on your breasts. “I want you to touch me. I can take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

He stares into your eyes, searching them for any indication that you’re bluffing. Any indication to back off or restrain himself. Yet when he finds none, he surges forward and captures your lips, pressing his thumbs against your nipples. You moan in approval against his mouth, meeting his tongue with your own. It’s forked – a new sensation but definitely not an unwelcome one.

His hands move from your breasts to your hips, only to tangle his fingers in your laces. You give him your consent by pulling at his laces. A moment later, you’re stepping out of your pants and suddenly notice Halsin is missing. You open your mouth to ask, only for something warm and solid to press up against your back. You can’t help the gasp that escapes you as Halsin buries his face against your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. From the look in Zevlor’s eyes and the way his phallus twitches between his legs, you can tell they’re making eye contact. Then Halsin bites down on your neck, and you groan in pleasure. There’s a spark in Zevlor’s eyes that prompts him to lean forward and nip at the other side of your neck. You grab his horn, pulling him closer, encouraging him further, and he sinks his teeth into your skin as his erection drips against your stomach. You moan openly, attempting to wordlessly assure him it’s more than alright with you.

Much to your relief, he takes the hint. As calloused hands dip between your thighs, toying with your clit, Zevlor’s lips never leave your neck. He bites every inch of skin he can wrap his lips around, panting against your skin. You grab his tail, and he whines, stilling as you drag your hand up and down the sensitive skin. A deep rumbling growl vibrates through your body at the sound, almost jealous you’re pulling such pretty sounds from him. Two thick fingers are pushed into you a moment later with extraordinarily little resistance. You can’t help the way your hips cant backward, begging for more. Halsin gives them freely, stretching you out as he ruts his cock against your back, panting heavily.

Just as you’re starting to get used to their hands all over you, you find yourself on your back, with Zevlor kneeling over you. Halsin’s bent over him, mouth at the demonic ridges of his body. You can tell every time he bites one as Zevlor whines into your mouth, his hips rutting needily against yours. Grabbing his horns, you pull him off you and stare into his hellfire eyes.

“Take me, I’m yours,” you practically order him. The sudden buck of his hips at the barest hint of dominance isn’t lost on you.

In an instant, he’s pushing the head of his dick into you. “You’re so wet,” he breathes, staring at the apex of your thighs in disbelief.

“How could I not be? I’m having sex with two stunning men in the middle of the woods,” you point out, hooking your leg around his waist as Halsin throws his tail over his shoulder.

Zevlor doesn’t even get a moment to respond. You don’t need to see Halsin to know he’s slicked his fingers with grease and carefully eased one inside Zevlor’s ass. You can see it on the tiefling’s face as he suddenly finds himself torn between fucking you and fucking himself on Halsin’s fingers. There’s a desperate look on his face as he attempts to find a solution in the depths of his own mind.

“Give me his tail,” you say to Halsin, holding out your hand.

“With pleasure. How’s he looking?” Halsin asks, easing Zevlor’s tail into your hand.

“Absolutely debauched. It’s the greatest sight I have ever been privileged to witness. You might want to take a hold of his horns,” you say, cupping Zevlor’s face with your free hand for the briefest of moments.

Halsin cocks an eyebrow at you over Zevlor’s shoulders. Grasping Zevlor’s tail firmly, you pump your hand back and forth. It restarts his brain – his hips lurch forwards as he fucks himself into you, realizing that with every thrust, he’s fucking himself on Halsin’s fingers. Behind him, Halsin lets out a deep belly laugh, grasping his horn with his free hand. Zevlor doesn’t have a distinct rhythm – he fucks like a desperate animal starved for release until it’s tied itself in an impossible number of knots. Each thrust unties a different knot, growing sloppier and more pathetic as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You’re not sure when Halsin adds the other fingers, only when he holds him open with a thumb hooked in his asshole, because you can see Halsin’s glistening fingers wrap around Zevlor’s hip to hold him steady.

“Please, please, please,” Zevlor begs, trying to push his ass backwards.

“I would have fucked you earlier if I knew you’d be so perfect,” Halsin purrs, slowly easing into him with a sigh. “Oak Father, you take me so well.”

“By the Nine Hells, thank you,” Zevlor whines, his tail going rigid in your hand. You drag your hand up it, holding the spade between your thumb and forefinger. Zevlor stills, watching you with wide eyes as Halsin allows him time to adjust. You bring the spade to your mouth, giving it a tiny lick and watching Zevlor shudder. His hips stutter forward, and his eyes roll back in his head at the sensation.

“You might want to start thrusting, I think I just fried his brain,” you inform Halsin, laving your tongue across the spade of Zevlor’s tail.

Halsin chuckles, giving a testing thrust and watching Zevlor lurch forward from the force. He grips his horns with both hands, uncaring how the jagged edges dig into his palms. “I suggest holding onto something,” Halsin warns you.

You hook your ankles around Zevlor’s bent knees, just far enough away from Halsin’s thighs that you won’t be bruised from each thrust. Once you’re secure, Halsin starts slowly thrusting, gradually increasing his pace and sending Zevlor forward with the extra force. He fucks into Zevlor earnestly, the older tiefling all but drooling above you as Halsin holds his head back and up. You don’t even need Zevlor to thrust as Halsin finds a rough, steady pace, pushing Zevlor in and out of you. Grabbing hold of one of Zevlor’s hands that had been uselessly squeezing your breasts, you place it between your legs. He takes the hint rather quickly, rubbing your clit and doing his best to pay attention to what you like better until he’s found a rhythm that has you moaning underneath him. Eventually he even starts thrusting, using Halsin’s force to move his own body and causing your eyes to roll back with each drag of his ridges inside you.

Halsin frees one of his hands to swipe Zevlor’s hair to the side, allowing him access to his neck. Dark bruises are left in the wake of his lips as he fucks into Zevlor with abandon. Until Zevlor starts mewling above you, his dick twitching inside you. He won’t last long, judging by the starstruck look on his face. You trace your fingers in the ridges of his hips as you prop yourself up on your elbows. Your lips find his like they were made for each other, Zevlor kissing you back earnestly. Had Halsin not been holding his head up, he would have bent over you and given your neck a break. Instead, his hand scrambles to the back of your neck, holding you up so he can kiss you like a drowning man.

Startingly hot cum splatters inside you a moment later, leaking down the curve of your ass and onto the grass below as Halsin continues to fuck him mercilessly. Zevlor shudders and shakes between the two of you as you pull back from the kiss allowing him space to breathe. You watch his face, memorizing each little detail as his eyes flutter and his mouth hangs open.

“Did you finish?” Halsin asks without so much as missing a beat.

“No. I take it you haven’t either?” you reply, licking the tip of Zevlor’s tail just to watch him convulse.

“I’ve got a little bit left. Shift backwards; I have an idea,” Halsin suggests, easing his hands off of Zevlor’s horns and down his sides to dip into the grooves at his hips.

Curiosity gets the better of you, so you shuffle backwards on the ground and let Halsin guide Zevlor down with a firm hand on his back. Zevlor catches on quickly, pulling you closer with his hands curled around your thighs. He’s mindful of his teeth as he buries his face between your legs, dragging his forked tongue up and down your vulva. You can’t help but grab his horns, encouraging him closer – an invitation he gladly accepts, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. He stares up at you, hellfire eyes blazing brightly in the moonlight as Halsin leans over him, kissing and nipping at his back. You feel his tail nudge your leaking core, and a moan escapes you as he slowly pushes it into you. It bends slightly, curling together to push into you and letting his cum dribble down between your thighs. His tail fucks in and out of you, making a wet popping noise with each sloppy thrust. You can’t help but pull him closer, squeezing your thighs around his head as you cum hard. A few rough thrusts from Halsin sends Zevlor lurching forward, nearly nicking you with his teeth before the three of you are finally still.

Halsin pulls out of Zevlor, crashing into the grass as you slowly let go of his horns. Zevlor slumps forward, curling up between your legs with his head on your chest. You let your leg straighten out, hissing at the stretch. A calloused hand gently rubs the cramp from it as the three of you stare up a the starry night sky.

“Whatever happens now, I’m glad we took this opportunity,” you admit to the stars.

“I’d gladly do it again if we find each other in Baldur’s Gate. If you’ll have me…” Zevlor mumbles, staring at the grass, fearing the sting of rejection.

“Zevlor, I’d go with you to Baldur’s Gate if I didn’t have to find Moonrise Towers,” you admit, carding your hands through his messy hair. “If this is something you want to continue, you need but only ask.”

“They are right. If you two aren’t opposed to it, I wouldn’t mind revisiting this moment at least a dozen more times,” Halsin hums, folding his hands behind his head.

“I’ll make sure to look for you in Baldur’s Gate,” Zevlor agrees quickly, forcing himself up to kiss you gently on the lips.

It’s a slow, lazy kiss that lets you lose yourself in him until Halsin pulls him away by the horn, kissing him as well. Zevlor melts into him as well, content to drown himself in whatever’s given to him. You can feel the rumblings of purrs against your stomach as he settles back down on your chest, the three of you unwilling to get up and return to the party just yet. You’ll have to eventually – time will need to move forward like always – but for now, you stare up at the stars, content to feel Halsin press against your side and listen to Zevlor doze on your chest.

#ao3 link #nsft #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #bg3 halsin #halsin #bg3 fanfiction #biting #afab reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #zevlor x tav x halsin #zevlor x reader x halsin #uwu

[kaciidubs]

Get to Know Me - K-Pop Stan Edition

Tagged by; @bethanysnow

Who is your favorite K-pop group?

Stray Kids! Currently these babies are my faves! They've completely swept me off my feet, which I didn't think was possible from how fucking fast it happened, but I've got no complaints~

Which member sparked your interest first?

Believe it or not, but Seungmin was actually the first member who sparked my interest! Specifically Maxident era Seungmin [as I was a Maxident era Stay], he was the one I would look out for the most when I started getting into them as a group. It was the dandy boy effect, what can I say?

Who was your first bias?

Truthfully it was a tie between Seungmin and Chan in the beginning, I loved these two so much I considered myself just double biased with them, but magically one day Chan turned out to be my main bias, and Seungmin lived up to the bias wrecker name [until a wild HyuniBini came along].

Now - Who was your first ever bias?

Mr. President Kim Namjoon, Rap Monster, RM, Joonie of BTS - my first ever bias and husband, I love him more than words can ever describe, him and the rest of the tannies have gotten me through so much back in early 2020 and I'll forever be thankful for them - I honestly can't wait till they come home!

Who is your current bias?

If it wasn't obvious already, Chan - aka Christopher, Chris, Chanstopher, Channie, etc etc - is my current bias! Though, I'd say my full lineup is Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin - he's my ult out of the tier.

What makes them your bias?

I could list a lot of things, really - talk about how I see some of myself in the parts that he's shown to us - but I don't think I could ever come up with just one singular reason as to why he's my bias. I feel like I can relate to him the most, he's got attributes that I wish I had and because of that it just draws me in more because seeing him excel makes me believe that I could do the same one day. Something just clicks with him and I can't place my finger on it, he's just... there, and my heart's all "Yeah, he's the one."

Who is your bias wrecker?

HyuniBini!! These two are wreckers like no other and I don't know how I manage to survive them but I do! Of course, I love all the members, but these two can snatch me away at any given moment and I'm not mad at it at all.

Which member(s) are you currently obsessing over that aren't your bias/bias wrecker?

Yang Jeongin. Yang fucking Jeongin. Ever since he got that split dye with the curls for Rockstar era, I've never been the same - ALSO, him and his honey brown hair now?? The length? The FLUFF? He's a baby bread after my heart and soul.

When did you first discover this group?

Technically I first discovered them on September 24, 2020 [according to my spotify liked playlist] with B Me, but I didn't truly start stanning them until October 11, 2022. To be fair, 2020 was really the year I actually started getting into K-Pop as a whole; I became an Army March 13th, 2020 - without BTS I doubt I would've been a Stay for as long as I have.

Have you ever been to one of their concerts?

Sadly, I haven't, and I had plans to see them this coming Lollapalooza, but things happened and I'm crossing my fingers to be able to see them when they go on tour again.

What are some of your favorite songs by the group?

Mixtape: OH, Neverending Story, Sorry I love you, Any, The Tortoise and the Hare, The Sound, Voices, Novel, Hello Stranger, Behind the Light, Cover me - their whole discography, honestly, but these are the main songs that make me feel like I'm going to a different universe.

Tagging; whoever made it this far and would like to do it! This was really fun~

#✧. ┊ kacii's tag games #get to know me #stray kids

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[adonis-koo]

1/ You're definitely right about that smut brings in more readers. Even if someone has so many good stories people gravitate to the ones with smut or the mention of smut. You're chances increase if you go with the popular members or if you're writing reader insert/YN smut. I have a non-smut Jin one-shot that is my fic with the most attention on it and it's my only reader insert. And I know if it was smut and not fluff and also maybe JK instead of him it would get even more attention.

2/ It's not bad because people like what they like, but sometimes it can be a bit annoying knowing that a switch of the member or some added steadiness could take your story farther with people. Especially when those people comment more on the smut despite how short it sometimes is versus the like 3K+ of story outside of it.

It’s something I caught onto very quickly, I don’t want to say that I ‘conformed’ to tumblrs standard writing w/smut but I did become less afraid to try writing it. When I first started on tumblr, I was still underaged and frankly, I didn’t feel comfortable writing smut, so I stuck to what I was comfortable with assuming that my plots and ideas would carry me, like it did on previous sites such as Qoutev.

I was...very wrong. Very. Wrong. That wasn’t to say I was discouraged, I was actually very proud of my 70 notes on my first fic when I started on here lmao. A lot of my stories had plans of smut later in the series, so it was always my intentions to delve into smut. I just didn’t do it under I was legal, which didn’t change much and my smut in the beginning was still pretty ratchet ngl.

I learned fast afterwards when I posted my first smut fic that wow, okay, my notes are a LOT bigger when I do this compared to when I don’t. I also have a Seokjin fic that I’m still very proud of! I was so excited to post it too, 14k there was smut! I thought it would go amazing,,,,and it flopped. Like. Hard. I was so heartbroken because I knew if I just changed his name to Jungkook I’d probably have hit a 1k on the fic.

It is annoying to me sometimes. But it’s mostly discouraging because, why spend over 20 hours and three months on a fic for an unpopular member if it’s not going to be appreciated? And I’m constantly at war with myself for it. I feel absolutely guilty because I want to write for all the members. But when you go through the amount of effort that I do, it just doesn’t feel worth it in the end when I know if I made it for Jungkook, or Taehyung it would get triple the notes.

#missy answers #randomkoalablog #truthfully i was the same when i first became an army #mainly fixated on jk fics as he is my bias #but after being an army for so long i tend to prefer reading other members over him now #and i almost always try to leave a *long* comment on a fic if i notice the notes are low #not to make everything about notes #im a bit advocate for not letting the crowd dictate what you write #but its hard sometimes #it really is

[alleycat-arcade]

Game Continue! The Seven Lords: Icicle Flowers

@rayanicaraynbow asked: Heyo! Could get headcanons+fic for the Demon Bros with a MC who's reserved and kinda cold with no signs of warming up to any of them (MC is still respectful but not really friendly) but then something happens between a bro and MC and they're suddenly more friendly with that brother, but still kinda hesitant with the rest. When asked about it MC brings up how they aren't used to actual kindness, so instead of risking getting hurt again they just distance themself. Have a great day/night/etc. :)

Alrighty! The cabinet is all fixed up for ya' and ready to go! Have fun and you're welcome to bring any tickets you win up to the prize exchange counter.

(Here's part 2! Apologies again for the delay, but I hope you enjoy it! If you'd like to read part 1, here is the link! I will be making Belphie his own part because I made two separate versions for him, one for before chapter 16 and one for after. I love angst lololol.)

Frostbitten Sugar (Part 2) (Obey Me! Younger Brothers -Belphie x Gn! Mc/Reader)

Content Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Reverse Hurt/Comfort, and injury mention/description for the first, Hurt/Comfort and sexual harassment for the second, Hurt/Comfort and injury mention/description for the third(Do not mention the last content warning i forgot to edit it ;w;)

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

Satan:

Truthfully, Satan didn't really care much about you when you'd first met. He didn't dislike you per se, but he didn't like you either. You were just another resident in the House of Lamentation. He'd thought about asking you for your assistance in pranking the eldest, but your cold demeanor held him back from doing so.

Once you had lived at HoL for a good month, he'd picked up on a lot of your behavioral traits. Traits that he found absolutely infuriating at first glance. Your mannerisms reminded him of Lucifer to an extent, a fact that pissed him off to no end. To him, you were just some weaker form of Lucifer. The second month of your stay in the Devildom was full of spontaneous and slightly cruel pranks. Nothing that would seriously injure or harm you, but ones that would put you in a state of shock momentarily.

The pranks died off not too long after forming a pact with Asmodeus, for reasons unknown to everyone but the Avatars of Lust and Wrath. It had been a surprise when Asmo had come knocking on his door, telling the blonde to knock off his pranks with an expression that was definitely giving him wrinkles.

He was perplexed at his brothers sudden affection towards you. You still acted the same as you always had, even in private. He knew about your private behaviors from the constant complaining of his brothers who wished to become closer with you, besides Beel.

His inner detective had been awakened, and he no longer looked at you with malice swirling in his eyes. Curiosity and intrigue drew him closer and closer to you, like a moth to a flame. And like how a moth becomes alight upon touching the flame, his heart became engulfed after forming a proper pact with you.

Satan wasn't the type to trail after you like a lost puppy, but he found himself often staring at you or spontaneously seeking out your company and leaving soon after. Like a stubborn cat. His desire to fully cross examine you ran rampantly around his mind, but he lacked the proper opportunities to pull you away for long enough.

One would come to expect that being transported into a different world would be terrifying. You likely would've seen it that way as well, if it hadn't happened more times than you could count on your fingers. The first time was the most terrifying, being summoned to a completely different world alone and surrounded by creatures that could kill you and made sure you knew that. After that, the times you'd ended dragged into one of Leviathan's cursed games or manga struggled to even unnerve you. Having an army of simps the protection of the brothers' pacts put you at ease whenever you'd run into an in-game enemy, as one of the demonic siblings would quickly take care of it for you.

Though you weren't frightened, you felt somewhat awkward as you stood alone in a field next to the Avatar of Wrath. While Satan did occasionally come and game with Levi and the others, it wasn't often that he'd enter one of the otaku's VR games of his own volition. With how much HoL ended up at the mercy of a cursed VR game you weren't surprised that he wouldn't actively seek out a similar experience. Yet here he was before you, shuffling his feet as he waited for Leviathan to catch up with the two of you.

You'd booted up the game when the three of you were certain everyone else was out, as not to drag them into the game with you and receive an earful of complaints. It was a typical RPG, the kind you'd often watch Levi play when he wasn't in the mood for multiplayer. Speaking of him, the Avatar of Envy was incredibly insistent on having you play the game with him as soon as it had released. Satan had only become included in your traveling party since he'd come to ask his elder brother about something unrelated. When you'd mentioned the title you were going to play, the blonde had spoke about the game's story being impressive and requested to tag along. Leviathan was hesitant, but ended up giving in and letting him join the two of you.

A part of you regretted allowing Levi to chose the class for your character. You couldn't fully figure out how to properly wield the spear you'd been given, and the very minimal armor made you uncomfortable. It wasn't that you showed to much skin, rather you were simply dressed in fancy robes that did little to protect your body from swords and arrows. Satan looked almost as out of place as you in his 'Berserker' attire, but he at least suited the class's fighting style. "Should we go back and look for him? He's taking an awfully long time back there." His calm voice broke through your thoughts as he spoke for the first time in a while. "Ah, yeah."

Returning into the woods you'd just emerged from was a far easier task than exiting it. It was as if the forest was moving out of your way and giving you a clear path to the spot that you had last seen your party's knight. You were about to call out for him, before spotting him tied up to a nearby tree. His mouth was held shut by a tight cloth, but there was a look of panic and fear in his eyes. Levi tried to shake his head rapidly to warn you before you took a step forward, but you were already in something's line of sight when you had caught on. If Satan had suddenly tackled you out of the way, you would have received quite a nasty clubbing to the side from the thorn coated log used as a trap. Catching your breath, your body stiffened at the sight of a band on thieves emerging from the Shadows. You went for your spear as Satan pulled out his tome, and hurriedly engaged in combat.

The two of you defeated the bandits with some difficulty, but you were for the most part unharmed. Your Berserker companion was actually looking more rough than you were, and as you pulled out healing potions from your bag your mind weighed with guilt. The blonde had practically taken every hit for you, despite his armor class being only a little higher than yours. Almost every attack you'd failed to parry he had dived in front of, earning the demon some rather nasty gashes that Levi was frantically trying to sew together. Even if his class was all about dealing heavy damage quickly and having a higher amount of HP, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. "Why?" You had asked as you raised the potion bottle to his mouth. He took a rather large sip before he responded, a gentle look on his face. One you'd often seen when he cooed at cats in the garden. "I couldn't bear to see you injured. Even if this is just a video game, I cannot bear the idea of letting you fall into harm's way."

Your little gaming trio had paused and saved after patching him up, heading down to dinner in silence. Well, you and Satan were silent. Leviathan was instead clutching onto your arm as he eagerly rambled about how cool the two of you were, and just how much you had looked like Henry when you'd landed a pretty impressive combo on one of the bandits. You simply nodded along and spoke when necessary, falling back into the mannerisms Satan was all too familiar with. His chest dully ached as he remembered the look of worry you had worn as you tended to his injuries. His hand raised momentarily to stop you, but recoiled quickly to his chest before you could notice.

The dull ache soon faded away in the coming nights, replaced by the feeling of butterflies slowly invading his stomach and chest cavity. He was unsure as to why you had changed after that night, but he'd noticed the way you had begun to warm up to him almost as soon as it had started.

Though he'd noticed it off the bat, your change in demeanor only fully set in when you'd invited him over to your room one night. You had bought him a Human World book that he'd spoke about wanting only a night prior, and the scarlet blush that overtook his face could rival Levi's once the realization had set in as you cozied up beside him.

Satan doesn't beat around the bush as he asks you about why you had been so cold towards everyone before, but he was careful to make sure that you knew you didn't need to tell him right away if you weren't comfortable.

Once you do confide in him, he's very understanding and gives you as much of an embrace as you'd like. His comforting is a mix of reassurances and affirmations in between bouts of soft humming, all the while he rubs comforting circles into your back. Unless you're completely against the idea, he'll keep you in his embrace for the rest of the night in the safety of his room. He won't fall asleep until after he's certain you are, and even then he wakes up at the slightest shift in your sleep.

He helps you lay out a plan to bond with his brothers, one that oddly resembles a military's plan of attack. He won't force you into anything, but he does his best to nudge you in the right direction when needed. Satan focuses more on helping you adapt than his brothers, so they'll need to seek him out if they actually want his advice on how to bond with you. Otherwise, they're on their own.

Asmodeus:

Asmodeus was not one of the brothers put off by your rather chilly personality. While he didn't actively seek you out or put a whole lot of effort into getting to know you, he did find you rather interesting. It was rare for Asmo to meet anyone who resisted his charms so easily, and even if they did he always would find some way to get them to warm up to him.

Occasionally he'd acknowledge your demeanor, but it was usually in the form of whining and pleading for something. While you did interest him, he was far more interested in himself to pursue your friendship. He was the Avatar of Lust after all, and it would take a decent series of events to take place before he'd fully indulge in his interest and try to become friends with you. You were polite to him, and that was all that really mattered at the time.

After the two of you formed a pact however, it was like a switch had flipped somewhere in his brain. He still held himself as his number one priority, but he'd often find himself thinking about you or taking you out with him to places. The feelings you gave him were strange and unfamiliar, but not exactly unwelcome.

His Devilgram followers were the ones to notice the way he'd slowly began to find himself wrapped around your little finger. In photos he had taken with you that you'd allowed him to post, a spew of comments following a similar theme were mixed into the hundreds of praising voices. They'd started with pointing out how softly he'd looked in your direction one photo and it only increased from there. As he found himself drawn closer and closer to you, his fans found more and more things to point out. His brothers had nearly had a heart attack after seeing one of his most viral posts, where he was no where in sight in the photos and the captions only spoke of you.

The Avatar of Lust did his best to make himself approachable and welcoming for you, simply awaiting the day you'd give in and snuggle into his open arms. But sometimes, friendliness is not quite enough. There was something that Asmo was missing, something he couldn't put his finger on.

Clubbing was something Asmodeus often begged you to do, but you rarely ever accepted. You knew exactly why he tried to get you to tag along so often, mostly because he'd outright told you himself. Taking you out for a night of partying seemed like the perfect idea for you to get to know other demons he had said, ignoring the fact that you had yet to ever truly get to know much about the demons you already knew. Yet, tonight was not your lucky night it seemed.

The day prior, you had accidentally knocked over one of Asmo's perfume shelves, sending them crashing to the floor. Some remained intact, but the rest shattered once they hit the ground, splashing the various scented liquids all over the floor and onto some of his nearby clothing. As a shriek spilled out from his lips, you readied yourself to use your pact if he'd become too enraged by your clumsiness and attacked you. But instead of whatever harsh things you had expected the Avatar of Lust to unleash upon you, you were met with gentle hands checking over your body for any injuries.

You struggled to find the right words to say as he fussed over you. The most you could manage was a stuttered apology, but that had only made Asmo frown. After he had ensured that you weren't hurt, he stood up and searched for a broom and dustpan. He'd given you a much softer form of a lecture as he swept away the broken glass, but never once did he yell at you. Something inside you told you to at least offer to pay for the damages, but Asmo wasn't having any of it. "If you really want to make it up to me dear, why don't you and I go out tomorrow night and have some fun at the Fall?"

Thus you found yourself in the midst of the crowded club, unsure of where to go or what to do. You had lost track of Asmodeus after he'd headed out onto the dance floor about 30 minutes ago, and now you were trying your best not to draw attention from the likely hundreds of demons around you. Mostly you had tried to hang around spots that you wouldn't be easily seen at, like sitting at the bar or in the small groups of wallflower demons. It wasn't as if your nervousness was uncalled for either. Even the most extroverted human being on earth would've likely struggled in your current situation. On all sides you were surrounded by demons, who could very well just decide to attack you at a moments notice and devour your soul.

Finally, you willed yourself to look for Asmo in the crowd. The tension in your body was becoming unbearable, and you swore your heart could not beat any faster than it already was. Weaving in and out of the crowd you searched for him, but you couldn't find horns or tails of the lustful demon. You were about to give up and call him on your D.D.D., but a hand bearing pink and green nail polish stopped you from bringing it to your ear. "Asmo, thank goodness. Listen, can we just head home? I'll make it up to you some other way I swear, its just..."

Your words faltered as you looked up to the owner of the hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. Though their nail polish had matched Asmo's, they definitely weren't the demon you were looking for. They chuckled at your confusion, tightening their grip on your wrist when you attempted to pull away. "I may not be the Avatar of Lust, but I can show you a good time if that's what you're looking for." Their other hand raised to caress your face, but returned to their side as you moved away from it with a look of disgust on across your expression. "I'm making a once in a lifetime offer for you, little human. I suggest you behave yourself before something bad happens. Wouldn't want Lord Diavolo's precious program to fall apart, would ya?" The scent of Demonus struck your nostrils as they leaned in uncomfortable close, trying to stop you from thrashing in their grasp.

"Excuse me?" A familiar voice cut through the noise of the club around you. Without any further warning, a hand planted itself firmly onto the face of your harasser, shoving him away after another had removed his grip on your wrist. Strong arms wrapped around you, and familiar wings curled to shield you as far as they could reach. "You certainly have a lot of nerve, don't you? Going after an exchange student, and one of my masters no less. Do you have some sort of death wish?" The venom in his tone was something you'd never heard out of him before. The other demon attempted to stand their ground, but after a minute long stare-down they scurried off with their tail between their legs.

Asmo let out a sigh, before releasing you. "I am so sorry about that. Can't believe that creep would totally ruin the mood like that." He looked away sheepishly for a moment, before turning back to you with a smile and continuing. "Why don't we head home? I've got some new face masks that I was just dying to try out. We can make a whole night out of it!"

After that night, Asmo didn't bug you about going out clubbing, Unless you explicitly asked him to go out and party he wouldn't bring up the topic, and even if you did end up going out he wouldn't leave your side the entire night. He couldn't place it as to why, but the lust and desire that had been weaved into him ever since his fall from the Celestial Realm was much weaker whenever you were around. He lacked the itch to pull away and find some random person to screw around with when you were on his mind.

Once Asmo got over his initial shock towards his own behaviors, he finally noticed yours. They way you now smiled when he excitedly showed you something off of Devilgram, or the way you laughed when he'd cracked a joke as you sat together on his bed. It was rather adorable to him, and he was sure to tell you as such.

As you open up about your reasonings behind your apprehensions towards bonding with others, he's silent. He hangs off your every word until you've gotten it all off your chest, only every speaking to encourage you to continue when you'd grown nervous. Once you're done speaking, he encourages you to lay on your back next to him. Afterwards, he lies beside you and links his pinkie with yours.

For a while, the only sound in his bedroom is the sound of the flickering flames of the candles on his dresser. Its only after he's thought through what he wants to say that he tells you all the praises and sweet nothings that had swirled in his mind since you formed a pact together.

Asmo is probably the best out of the brothers when it comes to getting everyone to get along with you. And if they happen to make a misstep or do something that makes you retract into your shell, he's not against charming them into behaving. Mammon and Levi will need to learn fast if their abrasive comments bother you, otherwise they're going to wish they had only upset Asmo by waking him up too early.

Beelzebub:

Similar to Satan, he didn't really think much of you. Even if his twin had been fuming with hatred at the mere idea of the Exchange Program before changing his mind, Beel never really held the same resentment towards humans. The most he'd know about you before the whole custard fiasco was that you weren't food, and you'd somehow formed pacts with Leviathan and Mammon after barely being in the Devildom for maybe two weeks.

Beel did regret destroying your room though. He may not have known you, but he was aware that he'd essentially destroyed the place in HoL you felt the safest in and you were now being forced to room with him. You had calmly accepted all of his apologies, but your tone of voice made him feel that they were more half-hearted acceptances than anything.

When you'd asked about his twin however, any of his prior thoughts were pushed away to allow him to freely speak about his beloved brother. Though he wasn't know to be the most talkative of demons, the two of you sat together on his bed for a good long while as he spoke about Belphegor, with you nodding along beside him. After that chat, a part of him began to feel some sort of care for you, a fragment of his soul longing to get to know you more. But you were still just a stranger, even if you had slept in his bed and listened to stories about his brother. He speaks of Lilith as well, but those memories are more painful than fond.

It was only after you had shielded himself and the young angel exchange student from the wrath of Lucifer did you manage to worm your way into his heart. And not too long after you'd cemented that place in his heart after confessing to trying to impress Lucifer so he would make up with Belphie.

From that moment forward, Beelzebub had begun to see you as family, or at least a very close friend. It didn't matter how you acted, he still viewed you in very high regard. He'd only wished that sometimes you'd open up just a little to him, so he could prove himself.

Sports in the Devildom would certainly scare off the best of athletes and most resilient of thrill seekers. They were decently similar to the ones you'd see in the Human World, but it was as if someone had cranked the extremity factor up quite a few notches. It was for this reason that gym classes had to be adapted for students in the Exchange Program, as it wouldn't be very great if one of the humans became nothing more than a red stain on the wall on their very first day. The only time you would actively engage in sports were when you would attend Beelzebub's Fangol games, and even then you had the brothers around you for protection.

The gym teacher often had you run laps around the stadium as the demon students in your class participated in whatever extreme sport it was the time of the week for. Jogging around the stadium was a routine that you'd easily fallen into, especially when you would jog alongside the other exchange students.

Perhaps you had become a bit too accustomed to this routine for your own good. Maybe it would have been better if you were paying more attention to your surroundings and not to catching up with the Angels that were a good mile ahead of you, you would've seen it coming. Or at least, you would have heard the warning shouted your way from inside. Either way, you were left at the mercy of the Fangol ball that ricocheted off the surrounding walls. And as it rocketed towards you, it seems it had not chosen mercy today.

Most of its momentum had been lost by the time it reached you, but it still had plenty enough power to send you crashing to the ground when it struck your leg. Reflexing, your body crumpled and curled into itself as you desperately tried to cradle your injured limb. If your heart had been beating any louder in your ears, you may have missed the sound of buzzing beside you.

A figure loomed over you, breathing heavily as if they'd ran a marathon to reach to. Your pounding head made it difficult to comprehend their features from the distance, but the buzzing seemed to be coming from them. It was only until worried violet eyes came close enough to your face did you realize who was standing before you. "Beel?" You questioned, squinting in an attempt to see better against the dim moonlight. "Mc, I..." He panted, trying to find the right words to say while also checking your injuries. "I'm sorry I didn't yell loud enough, one of my teammates threw the ball too hard and..." You cut him of with a whimper when he'd accidentally put pressure on your injured leg. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-" "Beel... Its okay. Can we just get to the nurse or something?" You spoke through clenched teeth, resisting the urge to curl up again. Beel let out a brief grunt of agreement, before carefully scooping you up into his arms. The speed he had ran at as he rushed you to the nurse's office made you cling to him just to stay on, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his chest.

Even after you'd been fully treated, Beelzebub refused to leave your side after your injury. It was easier to allow him to take care of you than constantly wave him off, so you let him coddle you as much as he liked. In the couple of weeks that you had the cast on your leg, it became a common occurrence to see the Avatar of Gluttony carrying you from location to location. Not that he had a problem with it though. He'd made a mistake and allowed you to get hurt, so it was only right that he should care for you and look after you while you recover.

It had been in the days you'd spent being taken care of that your shell had begun to crack. Anything you struggled with it, he'd be at your side within minutes to help you. It became harder and harder to keep up your walls, and eventually they came tumbling down and allowed Beel in. You could still vividly remember how his face had looked when a story of his had set you into a laughing fit, starting out as a look of surprise that faded into a heartfelt smile before he gave into your infectious laughter.

As you laid in bed one night, you'd confessed the reasons as to why you didn't wish to be close to anyone. His heart ached as he laid on the futon on the floor beside you, contemplating his actions before moving. If you were comfortable with it, he gets into bed beside you and holds you as closer as he can get you. Beelzebub doesn't say much, but the words he does choose to say are some of the sweetest things you'd ever heard from the Avatar of Gluttony.

Mostly, he wants you to get along with his twin first. If you feel more at ease approaching his other brothers first instead, he's happy to help and encourage you. But most of all he just wants his two favorite people in all of the three realms to get along.

Beel leaves you a special gift in front of your door a few days after you recovered fully and no longer needed to be carried around. Its a plush toy of himself, and although the stitching is messy and the sizing is odd, you couldn't be happier to receive it.

If Beel ever needs a quick sort of pick-me-up to distract him from hunger, he'll look at the photo stored on his D.D.D. of you snuggling up to his homemade plush.

#obey me fic #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beel #obey me beel x reader #beelzebub x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me beelzebub x reader #you may have belphie.... soon. #nap time for me now buh bye

[some-dr-writings]

Shuichi, Kokichi and Nagito’s crush likes napping on his lap during breaks

Shuichi Saihara:

·       Ah yes, the Super High School Level Astronomer, it was no wonder Kaito would be friends with such a person, and whoever Kaito was friends with, all his other friends would be friends with them as well, that was how Shuichi had met you. Often in those nightly training sessions, for a break Kaito, Shuichi, Maki and whoever else felt like joining them that evening would jog around till finding you, telescope by your side. You’d speak of the stars, of legends that surrounded them, of how travelers of old navigated the world through them, how stars were born, what there different colors meant, and so much more. Folklore, history, science, didn’t matter, you knew and continued to learn about each and any possible aspect you could about those specks of light. However, you were rather quiet outside of those moments, though you weren’t closed off. It was more so, if you weren’t speaking of stars you’d just so intently listen to others.

·       … Maybe that’s how or why it happened? More often than not, when at school you were rather drowsy. You were often out, camping in the mountains away from the harsh city lights so when you were at school it was nice. When you were around, Shuichi made sure to spend time with you. You were able to speak so much without words, it was fun trying to interpret your expressions. Truthfully Shuichi didn’t think much of it at first, it was just how you were, quiet, yet outgoing, bubbly even. Others however had a more difficult time understanding you, somehow they didn’t notice the many little nuances that made up you, your slightest shift of expression or tilt of the head, your body language, how you spoke more so with your eyes, engaging in the conversations in your own way. How others couldn’t Shuichi had no idea at first, you were captivating, how could they NOT notice!?

·       At first he had thought it was simply him being a detective, often having to interpret and read people through his work with his Uncle, but… that was not quite it, there was more to this. I didn’t come naturally, he WANTED to understand you. He found himself drawn to you, your gravity too powerful for him to even consider resisting. And it seemed the same could be said for you too. Whenever break rolled around, no matter how short it may be, you’d always seek him out. Due to more often than not being awake through the night you’d nap, but Shuichi didn’t mind, not even when you used his shoulder or lap as a pillow. He’d read his novels aloud to you, or if he was working through a case, walk through his logic aloud, he’d just speak even if you were asleep, something in him just knew you were still taking this all in.

·       Even if he was somehow one of the few people who understood you, he wondered how you had even seen him yet. You were like a supernova in his eyes, so bright, so stunning, so colorful, leaving only beauty and wonder in your wake, how did you notice him? By chance did your heart race too at the thought of spending more time together? Did you also find a soft, comforting, warmth in his presence as he did you? Did you adore hearing him speak just as he did you? Whatever the case may be for you, he sure hopped it was something similar because he simply wished to your beloved stars above that you felt even half as amazing as he did with you, he just wanted you to know of such a fantastic emotion, it, no… you were astonishing and he simply wished to share and indulge in it with you.

   Kokichi Oma:

·       “Y/N!” “Hu-AH” You groaned, shakily pushing yourself off the ground. Then you noticed all your items had slipped out of your bookbag. You sighed, seeing all your papers had fallen out of your folders as well. “Geez, Y/N, I didn’t know you were so clumsy!” “Ah, just tired today I guess.” You noticed how Kokichi kept taking glances to you as he helped gather your items. Not surprising considering you literally just tumbled down a flight of stairs. Before you knew it all your supplied had already been collected and placed back in your bag. That was really quick. You winced as you stood up. Your knees almost collapsed under you and Kokichi was in the position to catch you should you have fallen but thankfully you were able to do so yourself. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” “Oh, uh… umm.” You thought and thought but couldn’t remember. It was so hard, you felt like your mind was swimming and swirling, all thoughts fuzzy and difficult to reach.

·       Then suddenly you were being dragged along by the hand. “What the-” “You are coming with me! This’ll be fun! Especially if you have nothing better to do!” You were completely confused but more so shocked from the whole situation so you couldn’t really bring yourself to try to stop or ask where you were even going.

·       Koichi just kept running around, getting you completely lost. Eventually though he let go, dashing a few paces forward before tumbling and falling. “O-Oma!?” He simply laughed, sitting up. He hummed as the wind rolled past swaying his hair as he looked up to the sky. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Look at that!” You were confused looking up to the sky where he was pointing. “Ugh, you can’t see it from there, sit down already!” Taking your arm, he playfully tugged on it, but even that was enough to send you falling. Even with you sprawled across his lap, he managed to scooch over enough so just your head was there. “Perfect! Now, that cloud looks like Gonta; giant, kinda dumb, soft. And that one-” You were… quite puzzled. Clouds? Of all things? That was what he wanted to show you? You heard Kokichi speaking, but it was all noise to you, it held no meaning. You just listened as he droned on and pointed, the shadow of his outstretched arm conveniently covering your eyes.

·       You never really noticed how nice and soft Kokichi’s voice could be. Then again, he was always so loud or quiet, constantly shifting tone you never got the chance to just hear it… It was… rather pleasant. You wanted to hear him longer, engage in whatever game he was playing but so quickly your eyes drooped and all our senses simply lulled to nothing.

·       Then it was evening. At first the sight of those orange and purple hues confused you, but then- “Y/N, you’re alive! It’s been twenty years and Miu’s army of robots have taken over! We need you to join the resistance!” He couldn’t help but laugh at your absolutely baffled expression. “But that’s a lie.” “… oh yeah… Wait…” You suddenly completely awakened, abruptly sitting up. “It’s evening already!? Did we skip class!?” “It’s whateves, Y/N. Hope’s Peak doesn’t care if we skip class.” “No, not that!” You sighed, burrowing your face into your hands and mumbled to yourself. “I didn’t take the new meds again. Of course, I didn’t.” Huh, new medicine was it. Kokichi smirked, dragging you up onto your feet. “C’mon! You’ll make us late for dinner!”

·       The next several weeks were like that. No matter what you did you’d always end up napping on Kokichi’s lap at some point. This was much needed. Your therapist had been fired so you had to start all over with someone new, who wanted to give you new medicine meaning new side affects that could only be worked around via time management. It was a process trying to work out what amount you needed and what not. Napping with Kokichi was just about the only solace you had gotten in the chaos. When you had found a good balance of medication no longer were you exhausted in the day or losing sleep at night. It was great though, admittedly you missed it.

·       It had been about a week or so since your medication seemed to stable out and all was well with you once more. The bells for break had tolled and you left class. Break wasn’t long, but you didn’t care. Hearing shrieks and screams of terror and that ‘Nishishi” you knew you were close. Seeing Kokichi make his escape you simply went to one of the benches outside. And there you waited.

·       You still waited even after the bells signaling the end of break had tolled. “Oh? Y/N actually skipping class!? What has this world come too!? Soon the sky will be falling!” Seeing he wasn’t lying per say and just exaggerating you decided to answer. “I haven’t taken my nap yet.” You took his hand, pulling him onto the bench and you placed your head atop his lap. Though you weren’t not tired, a mid-day nap in the sun just felt so nice.

·       Thankfully for Kokichi, you were asleep so you couldn’t see his giddy smile. Though with this seemingly becoming the new norm you’d likely catch him one of these days. For now he’d just indulge in this moment with you, his crush and worry about that when it happens.

   Nagito Komaeda:

·       Though you were an Ultimate, an amazing person who could take care of themself just fine, Nagito worried about you. You slept, a lot. No matter when or where you could find a place to nap should you want too. It wasn’t all the time though, Nagito still had many conversations with you and had gotten to see your talent firsthand, an extraordinary sight! When you were awake, you’d spend much of your time with him, often over analyzing him trying to see if there was a scientific cause for the outlandish phenomena that was his luck. Not surprising since you were a scientist. At times Nagito wondered if your mind worked so hard when you were awake, trying to solve every last mystery the world had to offer, that drove you to exhaustion so quickly. That would explain how you could be so excitedly chatting away about one theory of yours or another only for you to suddenly fall over, knocked out. Thankfully it seemed Nagito’s luck would kick in moments like that so he could catch you before your face smashed into the ground.

·       Always following you around, trying to keep your drowsy tendency from getting you into danger, from just always being beside he had become your assistant of sorts. Though he would never dare to insist on it, he always sneakily became the one to carry your stuff around in the end, even if you had started your journey with them. Taking you by your shoulders he’d steer you away from bumping into other people or objects. He would take your hand, but he felt unworthy of such an honor unless you decided he could and he knew if he did a bright scarlet would erupt on his cheeks and his heart would pick up in pace, things you surely would notice with your keen eye. When you were awake, nothing could get past you, so Nagito would have to be extra careful. He couldn’t let you figure out his feelings. He simply didn’t have it in him to confess and he was garbage, surely you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but if you did somehow, it’s not like he would deny you, someone like him had no right to deny an Ultimate, or so he thought at least.

·       Although… Nagito couldn’t help his feelings seeping out, no matter how much he had tried to keep them inside. Often, he was just talking and suddenly he’d be complimenting you and about to say he loved you and he’d have to cut himself off by causing an ‘accident’ like tripping over chairs or abruptly changing his words to say something else. He was always left a flustered mess.

·       It was just another day when Nagito strolled into your lab, finding your workspace was filled with many documents, many taped to white boards with string attacked to each and every last one, some string simply linking two pages on the same board, others stretching across the room, forcing one to duck, and twist to avoid them all, one could compare it to avoiding the lights in the laser filled room in some generic spy flic. “Hmm, but how to go about testing this?” “Testing what?” “Oh, Komaeda! Perfect timing!” You strolled over to him, looking through some file, seemingly not paying attention to your surroundings yet still avoiding all that strings. “Today I’m studying human communication!” “Uh huh.” “And I wish to test something!” You looked to him with those stunningly bright eyes as you explained, completely captivating him. “The power of words. I wish to see if they are like water in a pipe. For comparison, imagine a person as the pipe and the words water. I wonder if say a person is upset, if speaking to another person was the only way to alleviate the pressure of those emotions, or if just speaking aloud, even to no one, if that’d alleviate the pressure as well, OR if something else would happen. Yes, each individual is different, but there could still be a majority! I’m thinking we’ll go about-” a yawn escaped you before you continued. “about this… by…” You took a small notebook from your pocket, quickly scribbling down notes as Nagito lead you to a couch in the corner of the room. Nagito already knew this was coming considering that ‘pipe’ comparison didn’t make much sense since pipes would still leak, even if with another pipe around.

·       He sat beside you on the couch and moments later you rested your head on his lap. You tried holding up the little book to him and when he took it your hand and arm went limp, you already fast asleep. Nagito couldn’t help but smile, seeing you already so restful. As usually he looked through your notebook, seeing what he needed to prepare in order to set up your tests. Curiously he also looked over your notes, wondering how your interest in astrology the day prior lead to this through your connective thinking. It was always fun seeing how you could draw connections between seemingly completely unrelated topics, then again that was likely how you were such a good scientist. As he continued to read, fascinated by your research he began to wonder something. Looking to you his heart melted. “I love you.” Immediately his heart raced, and he felt that heat raising to his cheeks. What if a person were to vent to another, even if they weren’t paying attention? Perhaps because he still had told you, he still would have gotten this off his chest and he’d stop almost confessing to you so often.

·       That was how Nagito had begun to whisper his affections to you as you slept. It was a thrill like no other, fearing you’d awake right as he confessed his feelings, yet also endlessly excited by the thought as well. There was more than a fair share of times where he was almost caught, but it seemed you were none the wiser to his words of love.

·       “Hmm? Komeada? What are you mumbling about?” For a moment he froze, love struck at your soft tender expression. “Ah-uh-Oh? I was speaking? I apologize if I woke you up.” You simply huffed in response… a-and you just kept looking at him? Oh boy. Did you know? Was he finally caught? What would your response be? What did you think of him? “Thank you.” “Huh?” You smiled, nuzzling into him. “having this… instantaneous version of narcolepsy… Even though I started studying, I could never figure out how to stop it, maybe that’s because I get distracted easily, I- wait, no. No tangents.” You took a deep breath trying to reorganize your thoughts. “It… can be scary, one moment being awake then suddenly asleep. Before you I’d often sleep on the train and go way past my stop and get lost. There have also been a number of near-death experiences like when I fell asleep when walking across the street. I… it’s nice, knowing you’re around. To keep me safe and keep an eye on me. And I guess waking up to hearing your voice, waking up knowing for a fact I was safe… I don’t know, it was just nice, and I want you to know, I truly do appreciate you putting up with me.”

·       How… how could you make him fall for you more and more so effortlessly? Well, if you liked hearing his voice when you woke up… maybe… maybe next time he wouldn’t stop speaking of his love for you, even as you awoke. After all, he could never deny you anything, especially not your own comfort and ease of mind.

#shuichi saihara #shuichi x reader #kokichi oma #kokichi ouma #kokichi x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa v3 #danganronpav3 #New Danganronpa V3 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #danganronpa v3 imagines #danganronpa v3 imagine #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #dr v3 imagine #dr v3 imagines #danganronpa x reader

[hajimesh]

𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁

⥅ eren jaeger / 1.8k words

warnings. manga spoilers, fluff and angst, gender neutral reader

a/n. my entry for anilysium's collab, don't forget to check the masterlist !! thank u sm temi for the beta ♡ @thefairywalker

hope is what makes someone hold onto a promise. and that hope it's worse than the broken promise itself.

—

845.

an autumn-like breeze cooled down the summer afternoon, and with the sky barren of any clouds, it was easier for the sun rays to land on those familiar blond strands.

"over there!"

eren's small hand—even though it was big enough to cover yours—wrapped around your wrist before it tugged you through the crowd. your rapid breaths were all you could hear while you mentally prayed to make it on time, just a couple more steps and you would be within reach, already staring at armin’s frightened face which caused your heart to jump. but what finally managed to send you in a state of despair was the sight of eren shoving the bigger kid away.

“what do you think you’re doing, yeager?!”

“are you hurt?” tears gathered at the corners of your eyes while you helped armin up on his feet, you didn’t have to turn around to know eren had received a punch, his pained wail making you flinch.

armin took your hand and together faced the scene before your eyes, holding onto each other's hands while tears dampened your cheeks.

“leave him alone!” the tremble in your voice was obvious, even after multiple fights with those kids it always ended up the same way. armin and you crying in fear for eren and mikasa's safety.

only this time mikasa was nowhere to be seen.

“shut up!” 

“don’t talk to them like that!” with a kick on the shin, eren managed to keep the bully out of commission for a few seconds. but that was enough for your saviour to arrive.

“leave before i call the garrison.”

relief began to relax your tense stance, you all knew that it wasn’t the moment to be wasting their time in a kid’s fight, the shortage of food seemed to worsen each day and keeping the people on a tight leash became harder as the days went by.

the kid seemed to finally realize he wouldn't win this time, so with a scoff he took a couple of steps back, "this isn't over," his annoyed gaze traveled from eren to you, "and try not to piss your pants next time."

the three of you watched him run away while the rush of adrenaline began to wear out on your bodies and gave in to the tiredness. had mikasa not intervened, the outcome would've been way worse.

"hey," eren was the first one to break the silence, turning towards you and landing a hand on your shoulder. unfortunately, the softness in his voice was your catalyst and soon you allowed the distress to overcome you, "oh no, don't cry!"

it was useless to try to get your tears to stop, falling one after another as your chest racked with broken sobs, "i-i'm sorry i couldn't be o-of help!"

armin watched in worry as eren tried and failed to get you to calm down. he could tell you were scared when you confronted the bully, your hold on his hand so tight he feared you would end up hurting yourselves. but even so, you had pulled through your fear and stood your ground, something he admired from you.

with a tug on your shirt, mikasa signaled you to start walking, her impassive yet reassuring gaze letting you know she was there for you.

"let's go home."

—

the warm steam that blew onto your blotchy face felt soothing, the taste of mrs. yeager's freshly brewed tea successfully relaxing the tightness in your chest as it ran down your throat.

you could already feel the tiredness hitting you all at once, begging you to lie down and close your eyes so you could rest your mind after the afternoon's occurrences. but with eren's eyes observing you, you knew you weren't off the hook yet.

"better?"

not trusting your voice, you hummed and smiled behind the cup resting on your lips, sniffling slightly when a flashback of eren being punched on the face appeared on your mind.

however, he didn't seem to be done with the topic.

"why did you stand up to him if you were so scared? you were lucky he didn't go for you." 

"'cause i didn't want him to keep punching you."

"i don't need your help," his tone gave you the wrong impression. were you bothering him? a frown pulled your lips in a wobbly pout but he was quick to realize his error, "i mean, we should focus on armin, right? he's the one always in trouble."

you rocked your feet back and forth, watching them dangle from the chair as you mulled over his words. he wasn't lying, it was armin who often ended up as the victim of those bullies. at least when neither of you were around to aid him.

"i have a plan!" eren suddenly perked up, eyes brimming with excitement and pride as he obviously found his plan a good one, "dad always says that it's his duty to protect mom because they're married. so, if we get married, i can protect you and we can protect armin—together!"

you couldn't help but gasp, "married?! but we are too little!"

"not now, dummy. when we grow up!"

"what if i cry again and can't protect armin?" you voiced out your biggest worry as you pushed the cup away and made room on the table for your arm, resting your chin on top of it after yawning.

"i'll protect all of us," he didn't even hesitate, “and we have mikasa too.”

the silly promise made so much sense to your 10-year-old brain, which is why you held onto the hope and safety it gave you and agreed.

carla yeager squealed the news to her husband once eren and you had fallen asleep.

—

850.

there wasn't a day where you didn't regret not going with them.

the lively days soon became dull without eren and armin’s excited voices as they discussed the fire and icy lands in armin’s book, mikasa’s reassuring presence gone as well. but you knew you wouldn’t make it through the strenuous military training—or at least that was what you had told yourself.

truthfully, you wondered how were they not scared of continuing with their suicide mission of joining the legion, all those sacrifices just to see what was outside the walls. why couldn’t they be happy with what you already had? it wasn’t much, but you had each other, which was more than what most people could say.

with shiganshina gone, you became one of the refugees that lurked in the streets of trost. the conditions to live growing harsher, food and shelter becoming escarse and a luxury, but eren’s promise gave you enough strength to go on with your days until you landed a job as a waitress at a pub. 

you missed them, all of them.

their names flew from the mouths of the military police and other higher ups that passed by, making you wonder what they were up to. however, when news spread about eren’s abilities to shift into one of those creatures, that old sense of worry shook you to your very core.

was he hurt? mikasa wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on him, but what if they separated them?

multiple scenarios ran through your head, many of them not so pleasing and only worsening your nerves. but if their names kept coming up in the authorities’ conversations after each and every mission, then it meant they were still alive.

unfortunately, all you could do was pray for their well-being and silently beg them to return.

—

854.

after years of not hearing his voice, it took you several seconds to recognize it.

“where– where are we? why–”

“you’ve changed,” his tone was soft yet hints of curiosity sept through as he marveled at you, “you look older..." prettier, he wanted to say.

having spent so many years without the intensity of his gaze, you realized you had grown unused to it, “you’ve changed too.”

it seemed like everyone had disappeared, except for you and him. dunes of fine sand slithered under your feet and a bright light illuminated the starry sky, converging by the horizon and causing his green eyes to shine in a way you had never seen before.

“eren… what’s all this?”

one moment you were surrounded by chaos, people screaming while an army of colossal titans walked south and eren declared war against the rest of the world; and the next it all had gone quiet, a man—eren—standing next to you while holding your hand.

"they will pay, and then we will be free," his thumb rubbed the skin on the back of your hand gently.

you caught the way his gaze hardened for a second, rage clear in his features but what confused you the most was the amount of hurt swirling in his eyes.

​​what did he mean by 'they'? you were aware of marley's feelings towards the eldians but was it truly that bad? there were so many questions you wanted to ask, but something told you that you didn’t have enough time so you chose to stick to the most important ones. 

“how's mikasa? armin... is it true? he’s the colossal now?”

eren pulled you closer to him by tugging on your hand, cradling the side of your face with his free hand as a smile took over his lips.

"mikasa's busy kicking everyone's asses," he joked and you couldn't help but laugh, relieved at the sudden lightness in his voice. your eyes closed briefly when he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours, licking his lips before continuing, "armin... yeah, he's the colossal. looks like i need to find another excuse to marry you, hm?” 

you found it unfair how after almost a decade, he could still hold such a power over your heart, the butterflies in your stomach feeling worse than what you recalled.

“you remember?”

he didn't miss the hope in your tone, his own heart aching at the thought of you assuming he had forgotten about your existence. there wasn't a day where he hadn't wondered about your well-being, were you safe? had a titan stole your life just like they had done with his mom? it was armin and mikasa who consoled him whenever the intrusive thoughts became too much to his already stressed mind.

“i never forgot.”

it was subtle, the way that kids promise evolved into a lifetime vow—but neither of you minded.

“i need you to promise me one more thing," he murmured, his breath fanning over your lips while your own faltered at his proximity.

“you’re leaving again,” it wasn't a question.

“i have to.”

it pained him to no end, but it had to be done. the warmth of his lips touched your forehead, your cheeks, and lips; staying longer on the latter while your hearts synchronized for a moment, sharing years worth of affection.

"stay here, on the island. find somewhere safe to stay until it all ends.”

a mere murmur on your lips, that was all it took to harm your hopeful soul.

"and don't wait for me."

#eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren fluff #eren angst #eren yeager #i missed writing angst hehe #eren.c

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[timelesslords]

invisible string

read on Ao3 

Missing scene from Mark of Athena- Annabeth realizes the curse of Achilles is gone. 

Annabeth wasn't one to call fighting monsters fun, but she might just have to make an exception for ones made of tar.

Okay, so the actual monsters hadn't been fun. And really, fighting monsters was never really fun. But she couldn't deny that there was something exhilarating about fighting alongside Percy again, after so many months apart. She had been worried that they might be out of step, that the distance and the time might have weakened the bond they shared. That Percy's memories wouldn't quite be the same, or still be distant and fuzzy like Jason's. But they were as in sync as ever. As soon as the first monster had risen from the tar, all it had taken was one glance to solidify their strategy for dealing with it.

Add in Percy's new shape-shifting friend Frank for a speedy getaway, and Annabeth had the most fun she had had in months. Of course, there was still the minor issue of actually getting the ship in flying shape once they got back. And being separated from Percy again, even if it was only a few floors away, instead of hundreds of miles. And the aftermath of trying to get the tar out of her hair– that had been something Annabeth seriously never wanted to repeat. 

But something was bothering her, something she didn't have the time or mental energy to explore until she was sitting on her bunk, trying to dry her hair. Percy had fought impressively; he always did. But he hadn't been the one-man army Annabeth had gotten accustomed to, during and after the war. He hadn't been invincible.

She wasn't sure– wasn't positive– but her gut was telling her that something was off. And she thought she might know what, even though the thought of it made her stomach do somersaults. 

They were going to have a meeting in the mess hall soon, and she didn't have a lot of time. But she had to know. So Annabeth slipped out of her cabin, making her way towards the one she knew Percy had claimed an hour or so earlier. She knocked, but didn't wait for a response before opening the door. 

"Hey," Percy said, sitting up from his bunk. He looked pleased to see her, his classic troublemaker smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

"Hey yourself." Annabeth said, letting herself in and shutting the door behind her. It wasn't technically allowed for them to be in the same room together alone, especially with the door closed, but Annabeth had brought her invisibility cap just in case. She could probably slip it on fast enough to avoid being caught. Probably.

Percy scooted over, making room on the bed for her. She sat down next to him, and he wrapped his arm around her. It felt so nice to just be together Annabeth almost didn't bring it up, but the long, shallow scratch on the arm holding her made that impossible. 

She traced the scratch with her finger. It shouldn't have been possible, and yet here it was, staring at her in the face.

"It doesn't hurt." Percy said, noticing her attention, but misreading her concern. 

"But it shouldn't be there." Annabeth said. 

Percy looked at her strangely, like he didn't understand what she meant. Annabeth felt a cold and familiar fear in the pit of her stomach. Ever since they had cracked Hera's sick riddle and figured out that Percy and Jason had been swapped, Annabeth had been haunted by the very real possibility that even if they managed to find Percy, he wouldn't remember her. Obviously that hadn't happened, but this wasn't a small thing either. What if Percy's memories weren't as intact as he was letting on?

"The curse of Achilles," Annabeth prompted, trying to keep the fear out of her voice, "You should be invincible." 

"Oh! That." Percy said, recognition finally flashing across his face. Annabeth was suddenly torn between abject relief and the very strong urge to yell at him for making her panic. She settled on relief. 

"I had to give it up when I crossed the Tiber.” Percy explained, “Hera– or Juno, whatever, she said it was a Greek curse, that I couldn't carry it into Roman territory."

Without thinking, Annabeth took her free hand and slid it around Percy's back, brushing her fingers over the small of his back, his Achilles heel. Percy had told her that it felt like a thousand little lightning bolts were racing up and down his skin, when she touched it. She remembered the look in his eyes when he had guided her fingers there for the first time, equally terrified and exhilarated. She got no such reaction now; just a sort of sad apologetic look. 

She pulled back her hand. Annabeth had already known intellectually that it was gone, but it still felt like something had snapped inside her.

"Oh." Annabeth said. 

"Disappointed?" Percy asked. He was studying her expression carefully, like he was trying to decipher a puzzle. 

Annabeth sighed. She'd originally started calling him Seaweed Brain because he could be so obtuse sometimes, especially when it came to reading her. He hadn't even realized she liked him after they'd kissed in that stupid volcano, for gods' sake. But the longer they knew each other, the more difficult it became for her to hide anything from him. He was actually surprisingly perceptive, especially now that he knew to be looking.

"No, no." Annabeth said, wrapping her hand in his, "I just– I don't know. It feels like a bad omen." 

"I've honestly gotten used to not having it." Percy admitted. He interlocked his fingers with hers, and Annabeth was pleased to find that they fit together as perfectly as they had before. That, at least, hadn't changed.

"You never really needed it." Annabeth said, truthfully. Percy had always been a skilled fighter. And, okay, maybe it had been necessary for the war, but only because they had been so hopelessly outnumbered. But unless they were facing 250 monsters to one demigod again, Percy could easily hold his own without it.

"You're still upset though." Percy noted. 

Annabeth bit her lip. She felt a bit stupid for it, but she wasn't really upset about Percy losing the protection. Sure, it sucked that he was a little more breakable now, but he hadn't exactly been very breakable to begin with. 

In truth, she felt worse that the connection between them forged by the Achilles curse had been wiped away. Not just her having taken that knife for him, though that was part of it. Percy had told her later that the thing that had kept him tethered to his life, to himself when he bathed in the Styx had been her. She had been his lifeline, literally. Maybe that was how she had known to take that knife for him in the first place, because that little spot had tied them together in some hallowed, inseparable way. 

And now it was gone, along with their matching grey streaks, the only other physical reminder of the bond they shared. Annabeth was embarrassed to admit how much it had upset her when the grey had finally worn out of her hair. 

"It's just... I don't know. It feels someone cut an invisible string between us." Annabeth said. 

Percy nodded, like he understood, and Annabeth knew he did. knew he was thinking of all the same things she was. As if to prove it, he took his free hand and brushed the one curl that had once been grey behind her ear. She, too, could pick out his strand of hair that the sky had marred, even if it had turned dark again. 

"I felt like that too, at first." Percy admitted, "I didn't want to give it up. I knew it was important somehow. But I also knew if I wanted to see you again, it was the only way." 

Annabeth looked in his eyes, warm and earnest, and felt something in her chest glow. It was still incredible to her that he had remembered her, despite Hera's full force. She knew it had to have been him, and just him; Hera hated her too much to leave the memory of her in his mind. 

"I guess I can deal with you being a little more delicate. As long as we're together." Annabeth said. Percy smiled, squeezed her hand.

"Delicate, huh?" 

"Like fine china." Annabeth teased, "I'm going to have to watch out for you."

"You always watch out for me." Percy smiled. 

"Somebody's got to." Annabeth said.

They sat quietly for a minute, just enjoying each other's company. 

"You're still my lifeline, you know." Percy said, suddenly, "Wiping away the curse didn't change that." 

It was Annabeth's turn to squeeze his hand, because if she tried to speak she thought she might cry. She settled for kissing him instead, slow and sweet, revelling in the fact that he was finally back with her again.

They only broke apart when Annabeth heard footsteps coming down the hall. She managed to shove her hat on just as Piper knocked on the door.

"Come it!" Percy called, desperately trying to straighten out his shirt. Annabeth bit down the urge to laugh.

"Meeting in the mess hall in five." Piper said, poking her head in the door, "You too Annabeth."

"She's uh- she's not here." Percy said. It was so deeply unconvincing, what with Percy's flushed face and mussed hair, that Annabeth actually had to cover her mouth to prevent a giggle from escaping. Piper smirked. Even if she hadn't been a daughter of Aphrodite, the scene would have been fairly obvious to most onlookers. And Piper was most definitely a daughter of Aphrodite.

"You're a terrible liar." she said, amused, "But whatever. If you happen to see her, could you let her know?"

"Yeah. Yup. I can do that." Percy said, but Piper had already disappeared down the hall. Annabeth shimmered back into view, unable to hold back her laughter anymore.

"Is she always like that?" Percy asked, his face still red. 

"Oh yeah. I think you're going to like her." Annabeth said, standing up, pulling Percy with her. They walked down to the mess hall hand and hand.

So maybe the curse was gone, and the grey streaks in their hair had faded away. But they didn't need those physical reminders of each other, not really. He had remembered her, and she had found him. They were tying new invisible strings to each other, ones that couldn't be severed by any sword, or any river or any god. 

And Annabeth had a feeling this was just the start. 

#percabeth #percabeth fic #annabeth chase #percy jackson #my fic #percy x annabeth #percabeth fluff #PJO fic #heroes of olympus #mark of athena #this is kind of an experiment I already posted this on AO3 but I'm curious to see how itll do on here #also #if you know me irl no you don't <3 #especially if you are my sister i love you but please don't read this lmao #this is not entirely canon compliant bc the hat isnt supposed to be working but whatever lol

[healerlestrange]

{ cis man, he/him } huh, who’s MENA MASSOUD? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually RAHIM LESTRANGE. he is a 21 year old PUREBLOOD wizard. he is the biological child of ZAHRAH NASR & ORION LESTRANGE. he is known for being CALCULATING, OBSTINATE, and DETACHED but also DEDICATED, COMPASSIONATE, and STRATEGIC. i hear he is aligned with THE DOUBLE AGENTS, so be sure to keep an eye on him. { jess, 25, aest, she/her }

BASICS

Full Name: Rahim Orion Ayman Lestrange Date of Birth:  February 16  Place of Birth: Nasr Palace, Alexandria  Parents: Orion Lestrange, Zahrah Ayman Nasr Siblings: None Other Family: Rodolphus Lestrange (grandfather); Bellatrix Lestrange (adoptive grandmother); Khalid Nasr (cousin)  Allegiance: Double agent within Death Eaters, loyalty to Order Gender: Cismale Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Relationship Status: In an Unbreakable Vow of loyalty to Lily Potter’s cause (it’s like marriage but with more chance of death!) 

PERSONAL

Known Languages: English, Egyptian Arabic, French Education Level: Healer training Occupation: Healer, Death Eater combat division Clothing Style: Elegant, formal Traits: +: Dedicated, compassionate, strategic, courageous - Calculating, detached, proud, stubborn 

BIOGRAPHY

Rahim was born to Orion Lestrange and Zahrah Nasr; Orion, with the weight of his family legacy hanging over him, was always determined to live up to his family name, while Zahrah, a healer, despised the war her husband would eventually be part of. Their son, Rahim, was born into Voldemort’s world and conditioned into a deep loyalty to his father, while his mother, more reserved, keep her distance from him. From an early age, Rahim showed an aptitude for healing, showing that in some ways, he took more after her. Like her, he was also isolated and reserved, keeping to himself and making few friends, a condition his father encouraged.   

When Rahim turned sixteen, Zahrah decided to leave for her former home in Egypt and gave Rahim the choice of leaving with her or staying at his father’s side; he chose his father and since that day, has heard nothing from his mother. Too proud to write to her, he would soon come to regret his decision. Gentle in nature, his love for his father made him determined to take  a place at his side, but Rahim was never suited to be among the Death  Eaters. His healer’s nature meant he always despised causing pain and he did all he could do avoid taking a more active part in the work of the Death Eaters. His father allowed him to train as a Healer after Hogwarts and he emphasized the usefulness of taking on this role, rather than being part of the army, while doing his best to disguise his hesitance. 

However, he wouldn’t be allowed to get away with this forever. Pressure soon descended from his father, grandmother and grandfather, and Rahim started playing a dangerous game in his attempts to outplay them. Lying about his actions, botching missions, manipulating situations to his advantage, everything he could do at once avoid following orders but not be identified as a traitor to the cause. Truthfully, he was still lying to himself as well, trying to force himself to play the part of his father’s son, no matter what parts of himself he had to destroy. He was still lonely, more isolated than ever - except for the first time, Rahim had truly had a friend. Their bond had formed slowly, and she’d done most of the work, but Danielle Goyle was a light. They never talked about it, but he could see it in her eyes (takes one to know one). She was trapped, the same as he was and around her, he learnt to smile. But no one runs from the Death Eaters and Dani tried. Dragged back, she became the final piece in the game between Rahim and his family. It was when they were about to make an example out of her to anyone else who would dare to leave, a death that would last hours, the challenge in his father and grandmother’s eyes obvious: unless you finally prove yourself. Rahim stepped in, performed the Killing Curse, and murdered the only good thing left in his life.  It was then that he realized he had destroyed everything good about himself for a cause he’d never truly wanted to be a part of. 

Sick with himself after his actions, it changed everything. He decided to do the only thing he could and seek out the Order. Truthfully, Rahim believed they had no chance of succeeding - in his mind, the Order had already lost, long lost, but he had to do something. There would be no point to just running away - as Dani’s attempt proved, no one escaped the Death Eaters, and his family would want him dead more than most. Either way, he knows his days are numbered; all he cares about is trying to do something good before his death. Nothing can make up for Dani’s life, but he can try before he joins her.  

To this end, he sought out Lily Potter, an enemy he had tangled with in the past and threw himself on her mercy. A fight broke out between the pair of them, but Rahim barely fought back - some part of him was ready to die then and there at the end of her wand. Except she gave him a chance, and they agreed to swear an Unbreakable Vow to each other. Over the past year he’s been working mostly with Lily, feeding her information while he pretends loyalty to his father, but some other members of the Order are aware of his identity, too. A shadow of his love for his father remains, but if there’s one thing he’s determined to do before his own death, it’s to repair the damage that the Lestrange family have wreaked on the world.  To that end, he knows, he has to kill them before they kill him, and in the end, that’s Rahim’s true mission. For himself, for the world, and for Dani, the Lestrange family must die out. It’s a twisted Healer’s mission, to amputate the bad limb before it can suck the life out of the rest of the body and so, it’s only fitting, that Rahim knows he is the one who has to do it. If he dies in the attempt, that’ll be justice, too. 

#mortemintro #about

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Black Umbrellas

Josh Lyman x Reader

Words: 2277

Part One

Summary: The funeral arrives and everything seems to fall apart. Josh tries to keep his temper in check with Celia, but soon the reason behind their ongoing feud is revealed. 

Notes: Josh is definitely one of my favorite fictional characters and it seems like more of you are liking his imagines. As always, comments are always welcome!- Side note: I know that it’s been forever since I posted part one to this, and I’m very sorry. I hope to be writing for more West Wing, including more characters. 

-

It was just like he would have wanted. The morning was bright and sunny and began with laughter. Josh was standing in the kitchen with your mother and something he had said made her laugh, making the rest of you feel a little lighter on a day that would leave a great deal of weight on your hearts. It’s how your dad would have wanted his funeral to start. Not with sorrow, but with the sense of being together. 

Your mother made blueberry pancakes for breakfast using your dad’s famous recipe and  the three of you had coffee on the porch. Celia and Thomas were still asleep, so there was no danger of an argument breaking out for now. 

“It’s a beautiful day.” Marissa hummed, taking a sip of her coffee. Josh nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, drinking in the morning sun as it rose over the trees. 

“How are you feeling?” He whispered as you rested your head on his shoulder. You shrugged. 

“Best that I can be, I guess.” He nodded in understanding and sweetly kissed the top of your head. 

“I’ll be here the whole time.” You placed a hand on his leg, drawing circles on the denim. You loved it when he wore jeans. It made him feel like he was yours for the day and not rushing off to assist in a national crisis. But even now, he was still the Deputy Chief of Staff. 

You probably noticed his pager buzzing before he did. He looked at you mournfully, his tone apologetic. “I’ve got a call from Leo.” 

You gave him a small smile and a node. “You better take it.” 

He moved out onto the lawn for some privacy and your mother gave your hand a gentle pat. 

“You picked a good one.” She smiled. You both watched as he ran a hand down his face, his expression morphing from saddened to angered to calm in a matter of seconds. 

“Is he seriously working right now?” Your sister’s shrill criticizing voice emerged from inside the house. 

“He’s the Deputy Chief of Staff for the President,” You scoffed, “the world didn’t stop just because he’s here.” 

“Sorry, I forgot. Not all of us are lowly small town journalists like me and dad.” 

“Are you serious, right now?” 

“No, you’re right, I’m sure it’s a matter of national security.” She spat and you stood up from the swing. 

“It very well could be!” You shouted. You wanted to slap her. Who was she to criticize Josh? 

“Girls!” Your mother finally interjected. You both turned your heads towards her and you immediately felt guilty, seeing the tears welling up in her eyes. “Don’t do this today. Please.” 

“Sorry mom.” You both said, hanging your heads. While you could feel everything start to burn up in your chest, you pushed it down. You had to be strong today. Luckily, your own pager went off before any more arguing could occur. 

“Hey Sam.” You sighed in greeting, grateful for a distraction. 

“Hey, how are you doing?” His voice was sympathetic and sweet. Typical Sam. 

“Okay, all things considered.” You laughed lightly, hoping to keep the conversation from getting too emotional. “How are things there?”

“Crazy as usual.” He chuckled. “I just wanted to call and check in.” There was something in his tone that told you there was more. 

“Sam… something is wrong with the speech, isn’t there?” 

“Well,” He blew out a breath, “Since you pushed it back, we’re speaking after Congress is handing us our asses which means that Toby needed to make some changes so we don’t sound like-”

“Kids trying to start a fight on the playground?” You finished. Josh had said the same thing. 

“Yeah…” 

You thought for a moment, but couldn’t focus on any one thing. “Just make sure that he sounds like we’re still coming out on top.” It was the only thing you could do. 

“We’ll try.” He paused, but you already knew what he was going to say. “And Y/N-”

“I know.” You smiled slightly to yourself. “Thanks Sam.” 

You strolled along the wrap-around porch, hoping to avoid Celia for at least a few more minutes, telling yourself it was the stress of the day. She would cool off eventually. 

“I hope everything is doing okay.” Your mother’s comforting tone helped to calm you down. You shrugged. 

“As okay as it ever is.” She nodded with understanding. She knew how messy the political world was. It didn’t stop because someone died. 

Josh came back, the stress clear on his face. When he locked eyes with you, he tried to brighten up, but you could tell that there was something weighing down on his shoulders. You implored him with a look, but he shrugged it off. 

“The usual.” He whispered, draping his arm around you again. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned to your mother with a sad smile. “Leo McGarry and The President send their deepest sympathies.” 

“I appreciate that.” She nodded and looked out over the orchards. How was she so strong through all of this? You felt ready to fall apart at the seams, but your mother was the picture of grace. She always did everything for everyone else and now she wasn’t giving herself the chance to grieve. 

Celia had gone inside to make calls to the funeral home and Thomas was in town picking up groceries. He wanted there to be one less thing for all of you to worry about. 

With a few hours until the funeral, all you wanted was to make it through the day without any more arguments. Josh had a few more calls with Leo and did his best to hide it from your judgmental sister but there was still that tension between them. You took a few sympathy calls from Donna and C.J.- both of whom were very kind in expressing their regrets in not being able to make it to the funeral. 

It was about noon when the President called. Your mother must have spent an hour talking to him in her office before she came back into the living room, passing off the phone to you. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. President.” You started, forcing yourself to keep it together. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch you the other day before you and Josh left.” He sighed. “I wanted to give my condolences in person.” 

“My family and I appreciate it nonetheless, sir.” 

“I am truly sorry for your loss, Y/N.” His fatherly tone made you want to cry. Truthfully, you’d always seen President Bartlet as your work-father more than your boss. “Bill was a good man and a good friend.” 

“He would have been honored to hear you say that, sir.” There was a long moment of silence between the two of you as you both let those words sink in before he concluded. 

“He was always very proud of you, Y/N. I hope you know that.” 

Your breathing hitched as you held back a cry. “Thank you, Mr. President.” As you hung up, you tried to keep the tears from falling. Your quiet moment to yourself was interrupted by the sounds of whispers growing into shouts on the front porch. Celia and Josh. 

As you approached, their words became more and more clear. 

“When are you going to stop treating her like a child?”

“I’m sorry, but I figured I would let her go on thinking that her sister is a crazy lunatic!” 

“Keep your voice down! She’ll hear you.” 

“Let her hear, Celia.” Josh’s voice became a growl. “Let her hear that after all these years, you’ve just been jealous of everything that she’s been able to accomplish and you couldn’t.”

“I don’t know why we’re even having this conversation.” Celia scoffed. You opened the door a crack and watched her step closer to him. “I’m not jealous, Josh. I’m right. Y/N has had everything handed to her since the day she was born. She doesn’t deserve her job.. And she doesn’t deserve you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Josh ran a hand down his face and turned away, but she was persistent.

“We met first, Josh. We started seeing each other and then you fell for her little charms just like everybody else.” 

“You two were seeing each other?” You gasped, finally stepping out from behind the door. Josh let out a frustrated groan. 

“No, honey, we weren’t-”

“Is that why you two are at each other’s throats all the time? Because you were together?”

“We were never together!” He exclaimed. He reached to put his hands on your shoulders, but you stepped away, staring down your older sister. 

“You really think I don’t deserve my job… my husband… my life?” 

She said nothing. Her mouth formed a thin line as she gave you a silent, hard stare. You wanted to slap her. You wanted to scream. Instead, the sky let out a low, tumbling growl of thunder that served as the final straw. You looked up at the darkened clouds as the first raindrop landed on your cheek. 

“No no no no no. This isn’t what he would have wanted.” You cried, holding out a hand as more water fell. “It’s supposed to be sunny and beautiful and… and…” 

“Y/N,” Josh started, but you didn’t hear him. 

“I can’t deal with this right now.” Was all you said as you took off down the steps and towards the road. You didn’t know what to think, but the rain hitting your skin was enough to fuel your fury to hide your sadness. 

“Where is she going?” Marissa asked, feeling the tension in every thunder roll. Josh slammed his hand against the porch railing. 

“I don’t know. But I’ll take care of it.” He gave Celia a glare that could halt an army before running after you.

-

You ended up in an old tool shed somewhere in the orchard, your cries drowned out by the rain pounding against the wooden walls. Your clothes were soaked but you didn’t care. There was just an hour until the funeral and the storm didn’t show any sign of stopping. This was all wrong. 

Your dad was the only one who could have fixed this mess. Whenever either you or your husband fought with Celia, he was the one that could settle everyone down and make you all laugh until your sides hurt. What if you never laughed like that again? 

The rain turned into a soft- but consistent- drizzle and you were sure you heard the sound of a car approaching the shed. You heard your husband calling your name before you even opened the door. 

“How did you know I’d be here?”

He gave you a long, sad look. “When you ran off, your mother said it’d be best if I took a car so we’d have someplace warm to sit and talk. She said you’d probably come here.” He opened the passenger door of his car and just waited. 

Instead of running into the warm heat of the car, you ran into his arms. While you felt like you had no more tears to shed, your body just shook with silent sobs. After a while, he picked you up and put you in the car, quickly going over the driverseat so he could take you in his embrace again. 

“I feel so stupid.” You sniffed. “We’re supposed to be mourning dad and I’m running off like a child.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up.” He muttered into your hair. “Grief does something to our heads… everyone has to deal with it.” He pulled away to look at you. “I shouldn’t have argued with Celia.” 

“No.” You shook your head. “No, I’m glad I know what she really thinks of me. Of us.” 

He pushed a hair behind your ear and gave you a small smile. “You have to know that I would never hide something like that from you unless I thought it didn’t matter. Celia and I got drinks one time before I met you and now she likes to hold it over my head.” He sighed. “And don’t beat yourself up about what she said. You’re one of the hardest working, badass women that I know. You deserve everything that you’ve built.”

He kissed your forehead and you fell into silence again. Without any words, he knew that you believed him about Celia and that the whole thing was blown out of proportions by your sister’s need for attention. He just hoped that you and Celia could start over. As much as he despised her most of the time, he knew what it was like to lose a sister. 

“Why don’t we head back to the house and try and dry off before the funeral?” He suggested softly. You just nodded, laying your head on his shoulder as he drove back to your childhood home. 

-

It wasn’t the sunny day that you wanted it to be. Everyone stood with black umbrellas and somber faces and you did your best to keep it together. Josh held your hand the whole way through, his support not faltering for a single second. You knew this couldn’t be easy for him either and yet he was your rock through all of it. 

The clouds blocked the sun for the rest of the day but you told yourself that it was okay. They were the cloud-kingdoms your father always talked about. The ones he wrote in those little books tucked away in the house. And you took comfort in the fact that you knew, now, that he was up there with them. 

#josh lyman x reader #josh lyman #the west wing #west wing imagines #jed bartlet #bradley whitford #this is kinda a mess #oh well #joshua lemon lyman #angsty #sam seaborn

[marnz]

what was the starting point/inspiration for stay close to me? also I'm so curious about the Esen pov fix-it, what was the general plot?

Ahhh thank you for these great questions, because stay close to me actually arose out of me unable to figure out how to make the Esen pov fix it (a longing that's killing me) work. I find Esen so hard to write because he is such an asshole lmao, and I also find mirroring SPC's prose super difficult because our prose styles are opposites.

The Esen Fix It was basically me trying to fix the almost kiss. It starts off after the almost kiss and basically is about Esen realizing he's been a huge dick and trying to be better/less offensive so he can be with Ouyang while also trying to figure out how it's physically possible to be with Ouyang...but I was concerned it was very OOC. Esen never apologizes in the book, even when he knows he's very wrong, and the way I had Esen justify his own behavior to himself felt weak. I have almost 7k of this fic but due to my concerns about characterization I abandoned it. It's unfortunate, the dramatic irony was delicious. I would love to figure out how to finish it :( Later I started what would become stay close to me from Esen's pov but ran into the same problems.

For stay close to me's inspiration, 1) I love horses 2) I think what makes Ouyang such a complex character is not just the gender stuff but also his identity as a disabled person, and I wanted to explore his relationship with his body 3) I think the opening scene in stay close to me is the part of the novel where Ouyang would be most compelled to turn back or deviate from the path he must walk, and the perfect opportunity for Esen to realize Ouyang is actually not happy. 4) when I was rereading I was struck by Esen's dialogue...almost every time he talks to Ouyang he's hinting at having feelings for Ouyang, it's insane. I can't decide if Ouyang subconsciously knows this and is not acknowledging it because of his duty to his family or if he seriously missed Esen's blatant flirting attempts. Like the first time we meet Esen he's literally staring at Ouyang and playing with his hair. Give me a break! The text supports both theories, unfortunately.

But not all is lost, as I am cribbing my fav elements from this fix it and adding them to my ouyang pov fix it, which has turned into a monster :(

I've added a snippet of the Esen pov fix it below the read more for funsies.

That night it rained. The cold crept in through the window paper and Esen, thinking of Ouyang, ordered a fire lit, and then had to strip off some of his layers. The fire hissed and recoiled when Ouyang entered his quarters, as it always did. Ouyang had never commented on it so Esen never had either, but now Ouyang looked at the fire and then at Esen.

“I was cold,” Esen said. He was sweating.

Ouyang, who wore his usual surfeit of layers, said nothing. A servant brought airag; Esen dismissed him and all other servants, as was custom for any military briefings. Ouyang settled in and gave his report on the replacement cavalry, their integration, and how the army was utilizing the extra funds. Esen, playing absently with his jade hair beads, let Ouyang’s low, raspy voice wash over him. It all felt normal, absurdly normal. Yet everything had changed.

“My thanks, General. I’m not surprised training the replacement forces is going well despite Altan’s absence. I knew you would not fail me.”

Ouyang gave a thin smile. “Shao has chosen Zhao Man for Altan’s replacement.”

“Not Jurgaghan?” Esen asked, wrinkling his nose. His third wife would be displeased.

“As his father is not the father of the Empress, no. Shao likes Zhao Man.”

“I don’t care about Shao,” Esen said impatiently. Truthfully he didn’t like Shao, who always seemed contemptuous no matter who he spoke to. But he trusted Ouyang to have good reason for promoting Shao to Senior Commander. “Do you not like Jurgaghan?”

Ouyang’s look was sardonic. “I do not know him well.”

Yes; Ouyang had always avoided Esen’s wives for some reason. “He is a strong fighter. His archery is good; he rides well.”

“Would he be related to you if he did not?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“There is nowhere else I want to be,” Ouyang said quietly.

A tender ache spread through Esen’s chest. It felt like it was pressing up against his lungs and heart, overwhelming them. He felt, as he often did, a longing to keep Ouyang close, but now he wanted Ouyang physically close. It wasn’t enough for Ouyang to sit next to him. He wanted Ouyang in his arms. He wanted them skin to skin. Whenever he had felt such an unmannish sentiment before he had buried it or, if it were particularly strong, imagined what Chaghan would say if such a thing got back to him. But now his longing for Ouyang was so powerful that it was as unending as the steppes.

Ouyang was watching Esen’s face closely. He was very still, his hand clenched around his cup of airag. It was exactly like the night when Esen had horribly insulted him, except this time Ouyang had sought him out. Esen felt the pull of fate again, a pull that seemed determined to bring them into contact. What sort of contact, he could not say. For a moment, him being impaled by Ouyang’s sword or undone by the slow press of Ouyang’s mouth seemed to be equally possible. But Esen knew Ouyang would never hurt him.

“Ouyang,” Esen murmured. Again came the thought that Ouyang was beautiful, but it was a proud and remote beauty, a beauty that was forbidding. And so Esen dared not reach for him.

A shadow passed across Ouyang’s face. He bowed his head and let go of the cup. “My Prince?”

“Do not call me that. Please.”

Ouyang’s throat bobbed. “Why not?”

“I have asked you a thousand times not to.”

“And I have told you a thousand times that I must. Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed,” said Esen.

Ouyang did look up at that. He held himself with the high, wavering tension that preceded a lightning strike. It was dread. The pain of knowing how badly he had failed Ouyang over and over again made Esen speak slowly.

“I can never apologize enough for your family’s death--”

“I do not wish to speak of it.”

“Then at least let me apologize for being an unrepentant ass. Please.” There seemed no other apology he could make that was not insipid.

Here came that close gaze again. “Apology accepted,” Ouyang said at length.

Esen looked down at the table, at his abandoned cup, and chose his words carefully. “For a long time all I cared about was making my father proud.” Again, that tension. Perhaps Ouyang was right to worry; Esen did run a risk of offending him with his next statement. “I made certain sacrifices to that end. It is the job of a son to do so.”

“Yes,” Ouyang’s voice was almost soundless.

“But my father is dead.”

“Your duty to him remains.”

“Of course it does, but I don’t--” Flustered, Esen forced himself to stop and think. How like a woman he felt, unable to be forthright. “The ways I must make him proud have shifted since I became Prince of Henan. Given that, given that--everything has changed--I am not willing to continue making this sacrifice. It would be unbearable to do so.”

Ouyang hardly seemed to be breathing. When Esen finally gathered the courage to look at him, Ouyang was staring at him with such intensity that Esen felt himself flush.

“Esen,” Ouyang whispered.

The deep pleasure of hearing Ouyang say his name made Esen temporarily shut his eyes. He knew immediately they could never go back. But words seemed particularly treacherous, so instead of speaking he held out a hand to Ouyang.

#answered #fey-dancer #she who became the sun #ouyang/esen #my fic #long post #thank you for this ask it was delightful #i am over caffeinated and stressed about deadlines (terrible combination) so i was very happy to think about SWBTS on my lunch break #i DID read a scientific paper on the health effects of castration for stay close to me and it was. grim. #i did a lot of research! both on anatomy and the yuan dynasty! this will all help me out for INTWFY. #stay close to me #sorry for any typos #edit this is so long i am SO sorry

[0613fancafe]

방탄소년단의 손편지 ♥

BigHit_BTS / 13.07.27 13:10

[Rap Monster's Letter]

Hello ARMYs! We’re already nearing the end of July. June and July 2013..to me, the former trainee, the days I thought would never come to me passed by so quickly. The past month were so busy and exciting that I can’t even remember what I did during those times. Also, after promoting, we’ve finally had a goodbye stage..the term itself is very foreign..you could say that the feeling is very new to us. It makes us think of a lot of different things. ARMYs, what did you think of our goodbye stage and overall month-long promotions? Were you satisfied with them?

As rookies, lots of things were very new to us and as we tried things for the first time we thought “Ah, reality is like this.” and “In these kind of situations, you have to act like this.” We learned little by little to create a basis for future promotions we’ll have as Bangtan for the next ten, hundred years. It was a very important time for us. It’s a time I’ll never be able to revisit. How nice would it be if we could be this busy and able to have fun times with ARMYs again in the future? We’ll work hard so we can accomplish that.

Like in the lyrics of Born Singer, the pressure to appear cool and perform well was big. I don’t think the three-year training period was long or short, and I don’t think it was not enough either. However, now that we’ve actually debuted, I see all my weaknesses and look back at my past self. I guess this is how you grow up, right? I want to believe that it is. These are hectic days when I think deeply about the pressure and responsibility I have as the leader. I expect that it’ll be like this in the future as well.

As time goes on we’ll have more goodbye stages, but they probably won’t make us as moved as we did for our first-ever goodbye stage. I’m just happy that we successfully finished without running into trouble or getting sick. Of course we’ll have to do well in the future as well, but as the old saying goes: “Too much is as bad as too little."

If we don’t become too greedy and work as hard as we are right now, I’m sure that we’ll be able to become bigger and better. The ARMYs here right now, you’re Bangtan’s first, right? After lots of time has passed by, I want us to be a group you can proudly say you were a fan of since the very beginning. So you can say "I was a fan of Bangtan since the start!” And so everyone can be jealous; jealous that you knew us since the beginning.

Our future first stages and goodbye stages..all the stages that Bangtan will have! We want to make them something that ARMYs won’t be disappointed in.

We hope that you’ll always stay by our side! We’re here because you’re here ㅠㅠ You know that, right?

I love you!

- Rap Monster

[SUGA's Letter]

Hello to the ARMYs I love, it’s Suga.

It’s already been a month since we debuted, the thing I’ve been dreaming of for the past three years. We’re already at the end of our first album “2 Cool 4 Skool” promotions. This period of time felt both long and short but it was fun and exciting because of our ARMYs always being there!!

Truthfully I’m a very blunt person and am not good at expressing my emotions but I was surprised at how much smiley and lively I became around ARMYs :)

This is the first time in 21 years that I’ve expressed myself so much. It’s also the first time I was I received so much attention so I’m worried that I made a lot of mistakes or disappointed some people. Please know that those were definitely not intentional.

One day I thought “I’m the same person as I was three years ago, so maybe all this love and support I’m receiving is a bit too much for me..” Maybe it’s just that I’m receiving love for staying the same and working hard? I won’t easily receive your love and we’ll work hard to become a Bangtan ARMYs won’t be disappointed in.

There were many nights when I stayed up all night because I was excited by the realization that I was able to do music like this. I’m so happy that I can share this excitement with my Bangtan friends and ARMYs. This is the happiest moment of my life.

We’re receiving so much love that I don’t know how to express my happiness with words. Thank you so much and I love you all!!

ARMYs!! We’ll work a thousand, no, a hundred thousand times harder to improve. Bangtan exists because of you all. We’ll continue to produce good music so please watch over us.

I love you, ARMYs!!

- Bangtan’s Suga

[Jin's Letter]

Hello. I’m Bangtan’s eldest hyung, Jin. It’s already been a month since our debut. Time went by so fast, I don’t even know how we spent that one month. When I think of our debut, I think of our June 12th showcase. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the emotions I felt then… Preparing backstage and counting down until the lights turned on and listening to our ARMYs cheering.. I was close to tears backstage after realizing that I finally reached the day when I could hear these cheers. I don’t think I can describe how the seven of us felt when we held hands backstage and listened to the cheers. And so, this is how we started our debut album promotions.

There are a few scenes I remember from our promotions. One day after coming off the stage, I looked at the members and thought “I’m so glad that I’m sharing this moment with these guys.” There were also days when the seven of us sat together and checked our fancafe and Twitter despite our lack of sleep, showing off to one another about messages we got. There were times when I also looked around the audience while on stage to memorize all our ARMYs’ faces. Haha. We had such a fun time with our album promotions but we finally reached our goodbye stage…the goodbye stages were sad but we’ll work hard to come back with a new and cooler image, so please wait.

A while ago I wrote on the fancafe and said that the members always appear in my dreams, but now, ARMYs appear in my dreams. I believe that this is a sign that like the members, ARMYs are people we can’t be separated from, right? I hope that we can continue to have a loving relationship with us! Haha.

I love you. It’s a phrase that you can see many times but still feel excited about when you read it. I love you all. Have a good day.

[j-hope's Letter]

Hello ARMYs! I’m the hopeful existence J-Hope. We always write on the fancafe and Twitter but because this is our first time writing out something by hand, it’s interesting and I’m happy. Although my handwriting isn’t pretty…please read it and think that it’s cute @_@

Hm..June 12th, showcase. June 13th, first-ever stage.. It seems like yesterday that we were in the practice room training but somehow we’ve finished our “2 Cool 4 Skool” promotions. I was nervous by the thought of going up on the stages that I’ve only seen on TV and the internet, but the sight of me standing on those stages made me feel something new. It’s still so cool to think that there are people cheering for us. Hahaha.

June and July 2013, 20 years old. Those two months were the most important and precious moments my life. The time when we finished our first stage and said “You did well.” while patting each other on the back..I think that was our happiest and at the same time saddest moment. I feel like an extremely happy person because of the large amount of support the members and I receive. It’s so much that I sometimes wonder if we deserve it all. Thank you for being with us.

During this promotion period, I felt a wide range of emotions I never felt before and experienced some things for the first time - I think this will help Bangtan be better in the future. For our next album..and the album after that..we will be a Bangtan that always grows and will never forget our original intentions. And to the ARMYs we’re always thankful for!! ARMYs..I love you a lot @-@ hehehe thank you, I love you hopehopehope~

- Bangtan’s J-Hope

[Jimin's Letter]

ARMYs, it’s Jimin.

ARMYs! It’s already been a month since our debut. All seven of us always wondered ‘I wonder what it’s like to stand on a stage?’ and trained hard, counting down to the d-day. We finished our showcase and first-ever stage and after a crazy month, somehow reached our goodbye stage. I’m still confused as to how this happened. Hehe. I always focused on showing a cooler side of myself to fans and never about the goodbye stages, so I’m sad and disappointed. If there’s anything I remember from promotions, it’s definitely the performances! Not just the stage, but performances when fans cheer for us as we sing and dance. Before we go on stage, the seven of us always hold hands and say “Bangtan Bangtan Bang Bangtan!” and listen to the cheering of our fans..will there ever be a time when I’m as excited as I am then? I’m so happy. Before we go up, I think “What if I make a mistake. I have to show the best side of me…” and worry, but cheering together with the members helps me feel better.

The ARMYs who help make performances fun. Thank you. We’ll come back as a Bangtan that’s cooler and won’t disappoint. Don’t cry because you miss us while we’re away~ㅎㅎ (Actually, I might be the one crying because I miss you all ㅠㅠ) We’ll come back soon with a cooler image so please wait for us~ We’ll be a Bangtan that works hard. We always say this but ARMYs, I love you and thank you. I also really love Bangtan!!

- Bangtan’s Jimin

[V's Letter]

Hello, it’s V. ARMYs, how were Bangtan’s debut promotions? Time went by so fast; I’m confused.. The last of the seven members, I was first to be introduced. I remember being very nervous before going up on stage during the showcase but calmed down after hearing ARMYs cheering and ended up having a fun time. After our first showcase we had music programs and fan meeting when we finally met our fans! And fansigns.. I wanted to get closer to ARMYs during this promotion period and we were lucky enough to meet a lot so even now, I’m not upset about ending promotions vV (Excuse me while I go wipe my tears…ㅠㅠ)

Don’t be too sad that we’re not promoting right now because we’ll make sure to update the fancafe, Twitter, and the blog, so have fun while waiting for us~^^

Hm. Before writing this letter, I thought about how we could repay the constant love and support we get from ARMYs and came up with this answer: “Become a Bangtan that ARMYs won’t be disappointed in!" We won’t slack off and will be a constantly-growing Bangtan and V. You’ll watch over us, right?

VV ARMYs! (VV = I love you) This was Bangtan’s V!

[Jungkook's Letter]

to. ARMYs Hello. It’s Jungkook. I always get anxious during fan meetings and fansigns and don’t speak a lot at those kind of events. Every time I look back on them, I regret it a lot. So "If only I could speak well…” has become my wish. But that doesn’t mean that I’m good at writing letters or posts. As you can see…ㅎㅎ But I hope you can read this letter until the very end with your warm hearts, no matter how boring it is.

A month has passed and we’re reaching our second month already, but it feels like only a week has gone by. Time flies when you’re having fun, right? I think it’s because it’s fun to stand on stage and meet fans. Haha. Hm. I felt a lot of things during this promotion period. It was a time where I thought a lot about music and myself. Through music programs, the radio, photos, and interviews. And also what I should do to make ARMYs happy.. I’m still awkward with expressing myself but I hope ARMYs understand my honesty. Uh..and I get really nervous when I sing on stage.. It’s because I want to show everyone a cooler side of me but I’m still lacking in a lot of areas.. I want to practice more and show a better side of me next time.

So our goal right now is to become better at live performances and show ARMYs cool stages. I’ll practice night and day so that when our next album comes out, people will think “Ah, Jungkook tried really hard."

The <2 Cool 4 Skool> goodbye stage was fun and enjoyable but at the same time, disappointing and sad.

But don’t worry. We Bangtan are working very hard on our next album and are trying to make good music for ARMYs so please wait for us. If we didn’t have a fan meeting I would have ended up crying in the dorm. ㅎㅎ We will continue to be a Bangtan that works hard and will not forget our original intentions.

I love you, ARMYs ♥

Trans cr; Christie @ bts-trans

#2013 #staff #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook

[sirenprincess15]

Please Don't Leave Me Chapter 9

Title: Please Don’t Leave Me

Author: SirenPrincess

Description: What if Aleksander hadn’t answered the door when Ivan interrupted the war room kissing? What if Aleksander and Alina had a bit more time to get to know each other before Baghra told her his true identity? Alina is the only one who can comfort Aleksander through his nightmares. Will she leave once she knows who he is?

This story is based on the show version and features a soft on the inside, hard on the outside Aleksander with an emphasis on emotional hurt/comfort and angst. If you are looking for lots of hurt!Aleksander thoughts, then this story is for you. Mal exists but pretty much solely to cause Aleksander some angst. Don’t worry. It will be a Darklina ending.

Chapter 1 is a missing scene at the end of Ep 4, and Chapter 2 takes place alongside Ep 5 and then diverges from canon there.

Pairings: Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, bits of Ivan/Fedyor

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Grisha are oppressed in this universe, and I don’t shy away from showing the horrors of that. There may eventually be mentions of canon-typical torture (Fjerdan pyres), death of family members, and cruelty to Grisha children. It’s not the focus, but that backdrop is definitely there and comes up as characters discuss their past.

In this chapter: After centuries of being alone, Aleksander struggles to share his problems.

Chapter 9

Aleksander was busy working in his office. The roaring fire warmed him as he poured over ship manifests and army documentation on this Dmitry. If they could find who Dmitry traveled with, who was likely to be loyal to him, then perhaps they could identify any threats before they even came to the Little Palace.

When Inessa and Fedyor delivered Alina, Aleksander rushed to her side. “Thank you,” he said, dismissing them. He pulled her into his arms, rested his chin on top of her head, and deeply inhaled the scent of her. She was safe. “How was your day?”

“Boring. Fedyor and Inessa wouldn’t even let me go outside, not even for training. I’m never going to get stronger if I don’t train.”

“It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution for what?”

He ignored her. She didn’t need the stress of knowing how anxious their enemies were to kill her. “I thought we’d take dinner in here tonight, if that’s okay with you.” His emotions were a mess. As haunted as he had been since Marie’s death, it was even worse now that the continued active threat was confirmed. He was relieved to be with her because he could see she was safe, but he was also still deeply ashamed of his panic attack from the nightmare the night before. He feared she would bring it up. He couldn’t talk about it. Eating in the main hall would stop her from doing so, but he was worried about security and didn’t want her with a large crowd. Her food would be easier to poison there, even with her taster. Truthfully, though, Aleksander wasn’t sure he had it in him to perform the intimidating General Kirigan act tonight, and he wanted her nearby for safety. Then he worried about what would happen when it was time for sleep. He had unleashed shadows last night, and they could have hurt her. He would never be able to forgive himself if he harmed her. That morning he had decided they’d have to sleep apart, but that was before he’d known of this new threat, of spies sneaking into the palace to check her routines. There was no way to know if the man he’d killed had been the first or the last. He couldn’t risk letting her sleep without someone strong guarding over her, and she’d never agree to let someone like Ivan stand over her bed. She had to stay here. Selfishly, he was grateful to have the excuse to keep her in his bed.

“Of course.” Her expression begged him to answer her previous question, but he didn’t. He well remembered what it was like to be afraid everywhere you went at all times. He could protect her from that.

“I do have quite a bit of work to complete, though. I’m afraid I’ll be quite busy. I did take the liberty of having Genya select some books from the library for you.”

She raised an eyebrow, as if signaling to him that she saw right through his attempts to distract her, but all she said was, “That was kind of you.”

He sat back at his desk and tried to focus on the lists in front of him. Something wasn’t adding up. Dmitry would appear on a ship crossing into West Ravka, but not on a return, and then somehow a time later be on a manifest for a ship crossing the wrong way. How was that possible? Was he missing manifests or was Dmitry paying someone off to keep his name off the lists?

Alina stepped behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. “Alek, you’re so tense. The stress coming off you is nearly unbearable. What happened today?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

She sighed. “Are we really going to do this thing tonight?”

He lifted his eyes to take in the annoyed look on her face. “Thing?”

“You know, where you pretend to be the oh so busy and important General Kirigan who uses his sense of authority to push people away? And then acts like he couldn’t possibly have any feelings or needs of his own? He’s fine. Everything is fine. He doesn’t need any help.”

He hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but she had. “Accurate,” he admitted.

“I’m going to let you in on a secret. The act doesn’t work with girls who have shared your bed.”

He laughed. Only she could call him on his behavior like this without irritating him. Only she could make him smile when he was otherwise so miserable. “I can assure you it worked fine on girls who have shared my bed. Apparently, it doesn’t work on the one girl I have let into my heart.”

“You’ve let me into your heart? So … let me help you.”

“Alina, it’s not that simple …”

“You can’t bear this burden alone, Aleksander. I won’t let you. Whatever is happening, it is crushing you. If not me, then get Ivan in here and talk to him. ”

“You want me to summon Ivan in here? This must be serious.”

“He is a good friend to you, and I know you trust him. I just want you to let someone help. You are not alone. This,” she said, putting her hand over the papers, “is not yours alone to figure out. Stop trying to solve everything with no support.”

“I’m not … used to having support.”

She nodded, took his hand, and squeezed it. “I know. I’m not really either. We’ve learned to do things alone, to hide pain and keep it to ourselves, but I know that problems are better solved together. Together, Aleksander. Stop trying to protect me from scary truths. Fedyor scanned every room we went into before he’d let me enter. I’m not stupid, Aleksander. If I can handle you cutting a Druskelle in half on top of me, I can handle whatever is threatening us now. Stop trying to push me away when it comes to important things. Let me help.”

He sighed. She was frightened already; she might as well know the truth. “Zoya caught a man trying to break in today. I have her guarding the palace exterior since she can’t seem to behave herself around you. He is working for Zlatan and was sent to spy on you. They’re making a plan for a better attempt on your life.”

Her shoulders slumped and her gaze fell to the floor as she took that in. “Hunted wherever I go. Still not used to that.”

He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “I will not let them succeed. I promise you that you will come to no harm.”

She looked into his eyes, stared there for a while, then found her strength. “Tell me about the papers.”

He quickly filled her in on what he had discovered about Dmitry and the mystery of the paperwork. It did actually feel good to have someone to discuss his findings with and not keep the thoughts spinning in his head. He talked through all of his ideas, no matter if they led nowhere. She indulged him and asked appropriate questions at all the right times. Finally, he arrived out loud at the stuck place he was in his head. He had so many theories, but how did he figure out if any of them were right?

She was quiet as she turned from page to page. Dinner arrived, and they ate in silence as they continued to try to find a pattern among the papers--the same captain, the same record keeper, accomplices that might travel with him. All ideas led nowhere, but they continued to look.

Hours later, Alina stood and walked into the war room.

“Alina?” He trailed after her. She was staring at the map. After a long time, he prompted her. “What is it?”

“I’m sure it’s stupid.” She shook her head and hugged herself.

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that. That’s not you. Those are words from your past.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Hmm, well then, let’s hear it. I’m frustrated. Maybe if it’s really stupid we can have a good laugh about it.”

“I used to stare at the map and dream of finding a way around. I was told there is no around, but … is there? Any secret path or …”

Aleksander felt his stomach twist as the implications became clear. “There are reports of Fjerdans in West Ravka, rumors that Zlatan is aligning with them, letting Druseklle ...” A vision of Nina being tortured popped into his head. He had to fight his jaw from trembling so she couldn’t see how upset this made him. “There is an around if you’re in bed with the enemy. He’s going through Fjerda.”

She gasped as it came together in her head. “He sends his emissary to Fjerda with messages, who then gets a free pass into our country to deliver orders to his spies, but then he needs the quick return across to do it again. How long would it take to travel through Fjerda? Check the dates. Do they match?”

“Fjerdans. It’s worse than I thought.” He could feel the Fjerdan fires licking at his skin.

They spent another hour pouring over records and checking their theory. Finally, Alina yawned. “We should get some sleep.”

He wanted to tell her to go on ahead, but he didn’t want her sleeping in a room away from him. He almost offered to just watch over her, but he feared he would accidentally fall asleep and end up as he had the night before. His chest tightened with worry as he considered possibilities, none of which were acceptable.

“I tell you to come to bed, and that sense of dread is what I get? I might think you don’t want to …” she tried to lightly tease.

“You know why,” he whispered, still not wanting to talk about it.

“Which is all the more reason to get you to sleep soon. Your nightmares are worse the longer you try to keep yourself awake. Have you noticed?”

He sighed. “This morning I was trying to work myself up to telling you that it’s not safe to sleep with me anymore, but now with this information on this potential attack, it’s not safe to sleep away from me either.”

“Don’t you dare do that to me!”

“What?” To her?

“Don’t you realize what you do for me? For years I cried myself to sleep every night, Aleksander. For years! I used to lie there and wonder what was wrong with me that no one could want me, how it was possible for me to not belong anywhere. I slept with a weapon under my pillow to fend off anyone who might come to hurt me. And now I sleep in your arms. Desired. Loved. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

His heart ached for her. Was it possible she needed him as much as he needed her? “I hadn’t realized …”

“No matter how bad our nightmares get, we stay together. You make sure I can sleep, and I will do the same for you. Just promise to wake me up tonight. You can’t get yourself overtired like that again.”

“And you will wake me if the shadows start again?”

“I promise. Right away.”

“Okay,” he agreed, feeling less selfish about allowing it if it benefited her too. It was better than the alternative of some spy finding her room in the night or her lying awake with a knife under her pillow wondering if someone was coming to kill her. He would have to take care of himself more for her--get an adequate amount of sleep, actually stop and eat meals instead of working through every waking hour, maybe even share some of his stresses with her. He would do those things if it meant he could be there to protect her.

“Now,” she said, kissing him gently. “What do I have to do to get you out of that kefta so I can kiss away all those battle scars?”

#darklina #alina x darkling #general kirigan #kirigan x alina #alina x kirigan #aleksander x alina #alina x aleksander #aleksander morovoza

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Falling Together Part I

Author’s Note: After receiving such kind words from Tall Tale, I had another idea that I ran with. There will be a part two, so if you want to be added to the tag list for this as well as future works to come, please let me know. 

Summary: You enter into an arranged marriage with Ivar, a marriage of convenience, but can you both come together to make it more?

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 3137

Warnings: Language, mild angst

"You need to fuck your wife, brother."

Those were the words that came out of Hvitserk's mouth after they had been sitting in silence. How he longed for better advice from Ubbe, but his eldest brother remained back in Kattegat with Torvi. They had parted as equals, peace finally coming to the sons of Ragnar. For Ivar, Kattegat held only pain and misery, so he had taken to the sea with a handful of ships and a map to Ireland, and once again Hvitserk had chosen to remain at his side. He didn't know what inspired such loyalty from his brother, but he was grateful for his company, most days. Today was not one of them.

"Are you listening, Ivar? I said--"

"Yes, I heard you," Ivar interjected before he could repeat himself. "I'm just choosing to ignore your advice."

Hvitserk shrugged as he pulled meat off of a chicken bone with his teeth. "Alright, but you know I'm right. She's going to want someone to warm her bed eventually, and she won't wait around for it to be you."

"Christian women don't like sex," Ivar said with a huff.

"Not the ones I've been with," Hvitserk said, smirking around a mouthful of meat. "They don't like sex with devout Christian men, but we are not such men."

Ivar frowned into his mug of ale as he thought about you. You were his wife in name only, an alliance forged with your father for lands in the first few weeks they had arrived in Ireland. The wedding had been small, in accordance with Viking tradition, not Christian. You weren't as devout as the Saxons of England, but you had insisted on keeping your cross.

There was no love in your marriage. At first you had appeared hopeful if not reluctant to be sharing in this union, but as many moons had passed, you'd begun to realize you were alone in your efforts. Ivar didn't hate you, even if you were a Christian, but he did not want to be in love again, not after Freydis. She was everything he had ever wanted, and she had betrayed him.

"Why the sudden interest in what goes on in my marriage?" Ivar said, setting down his mug as he watched Hvitserk.

"I'm sure King Conall will be starting to wonder about grandchildren soon," said Hvitserk, leaning back in his chair. "And you have a pretty wife. Others have taken notice already, and she might start to consider picking one. Women don't like to be lonely."

Ivar scowled, hating the apprehension his brother's words stirred up. "She is free to take a lover if she wishes." His voice wavered. Even he didn't believe himself.

"You have changed, Ivar, but not enough that I don't believe you wouldn't kill the man she was with."

Hvitserk wasn't wrong. He still lacked self-confidence as far as women were concerned, and he would take it as a personal slight if you humped some lesser warrior in his army. You never voiced any discontent in his presence, and Ivar was sure he would notice any man becoming too enamored with you.

He rose from his throne, a sudden need to get away from the doubts that the turn in conversation had brought up. Hvitserk looked at him with a grin while folding his arms back behind his head.

"Going to take care of your wife?"

"Be silent," Ivar grumbled. "My marriage is a solid alliance. There's nothing that needs fixing."

"If it's as you say, then forget what I said," said Hvitserk, returning his attention to his plate of food.

Ivar growled as he started for his chambers. He hated not getting the last word in, but nothing he could have said would've proven Hvitserk wrong. Truthfully, he knew little about you or how you spent your days. When he was preoccupied with the duties of ruling, you were off amongst the people, though not without a guard. Ivar was surprised that you had taken an active role in being Queen. Freydis never had, nor had his mother. Your father was a great King, and you must have studied under his exemplary tutelage. 

His crutch ticked down the corridor with each slow step, the damp causing his legs to stiffen. Ireland was greener than Norway, but the warmth of the sun would disappear for days behind a wall of grey cloud that brought heavy rain. The long torrents left him miserable with agony, something he fought to conceal from his men.

He leaned on the door as he came into his room, the fire low since the last time it had been tended to by a slave. The bed was empty. This had remained the same since the wedding night. There was a smaller room attached to his main chambers, meant to be used for any future children you birthed. Instead it had become your own personal wing, with no one growing wise to the fact that you slept away from your marital bed.

Ivar slept better alone. The space allowed for him to shift about if the pain became unbearable. Tonight was different. He couldn't keep his eyes from the door to your chamber, even as he eased himself down onto the furs. Reaching for his crutch, he rose again, letting out a low hiss as he forced his body forward. Just one peek would be enough to satisfy him. 

Ivar doubted you'd bring any man to your room, as it meant you'd have to drag them past his bed first. Hvitserk's comments had burrowed into his head however, and he needed to be sure. He eased his way through the door, and took a step into your space for the first time. It was a smaller room, not meant to be used as sleeping quarters for an adult, but you had made it into something personal. There was no hearth for a fire. You kept warm under a pile of furs, twice as thick as he needed. There you slept in the middle of the small bed, unaware as he watched this private moment of solitude.

You didn't appear to be in despair. A ghost of a smile sat on your lips. It was a look Ivar was familiar with, even if he hadn't been on the receiving side of it for some time. At first you had tried to smile for him, all attempts to forge a bond with your new husband. He didn't know when you had stopped trying, but now it was a smile you only reserved for others. You never referred to him by name anymore either. It was always 'My King' or 'My Lord', the latter of which he detested.

He breathed a sigh. This was not how he imagined his life would turn when he set out to new lands. There was still the desire to grow his father's legacy, and thus far his Kingship in Ireland was progressing much better than it had in Kattegat. He had been driven by blind ambition and false beliefs that he was anything other than a crippled mortal. The loss was humbling, and even with his new found success he refused to rest on his laurels. 

Now that his curiosity was satisfied, he pivoted back towards the door to leave. The thin light coming from the fire in his room illuminated the table beside your bed where you kept your cross. There was something else there as well, a small thing that stopped Ivar in his place. It was a hammer of Thor, whittled from wood and tied to a piece of twine. The craftsmanship was poor, but the meaning of it was something else entirely. Someone had gifted it to you, and you had kept it in a place within reach.

He wanted to inspect it further, maybe even take it back to burn it in his hearth, but he wouldn't risk Thor's wrath, or the chance that you could wake up. Hvitserk's warning about you taking a lover came back with a vengeance and had his stomach feeling like it was filled with rocks. He would have to sleep with this knowledge until he could question you about it, a conversation he did not desire to have. How to broach it would be more difficult still, and combined with the pain in his legs, Ivar found no rest that night.

ooOOoo

Ivar was behaving strangely. Your father had come to visit, which meant there was an unspoken agreement between you and your husband to behave cordially. You had done so many times when the situation called for you both to act as united rulers, but the efforts on your husband's part had never felt this...forced. 

During the feast his hand kept pawing for yours beneath the table until you gave up and let him cling to your limp fingers. He was attentive, patient, and even addressed you by name. You concealed your frown as best you could between bites of food. One glance down the table at Hvitserk and you understood that he was perplexed by Ivar's behavior as well. It pleased your father to witness such fondness from your husband towards you, and that had you holding your tongue. You would give your King an earful later.

"Daughter," Your father said, raising his arms to embrace you after you had managed to pry out of Ivar's iron grasp. "You are a smart match together, I am glad you are happy."

"Thank you, father," You whispered into his ear before parting.

"Might I see a grandchild soon?"

You flushed from what looked like embarrassment, but was actually shame. It was a constant hurt inside you, that you had failed to be desirable to your husband.

"Maybe, if we are blessed," You said evenly.

"I'm sure you will be. This is a successful alliance, and I have no doubt your union will be fruitful. We have a son of Ragnar on our side, that is no small thing, but remember you are my daughter, and you will always have a place in my court."

He placed his large hands over your shoulders, as he often did when you were a small child. His cheeks were flushed as red as his beard from drinking, and a merry grin was upon his lips. It had just been you and him for so long, after your mother had passed from sickness a lifetime before. You used to think you could tell your father everything, but now that you were a Queen, your loyalties had shifted to protect your husband and the integrity of your new settlement. 

With your practiced smile and a reassuring hand upon his arm, you eased whatever burdens he felt for giving you away to heathens. "I am well father, and my place is here with my people."

"Then I shall depart, and leave you with your husband."

"Hvitserk," You called, and he stood with uncoordinated abruptness. "Please escort my father and his men to the gates."

He seemed to understand your true intentions, shooting you a nod to confirm. You had grown fond of your brother-in-law in a short time, and had come to see him as someone you could rely on. He had no qualms about answering anything you wanted to know. If you had asked, he would have spilled every secret about Ivar as well, but you had refrained from going down that path. You would rather get the truth from the horse's mouth as it were, and now you were about to be alone with him.

Ivar's eyes did not lose the mischief behind them. They were cold blue, like the winters of his home you thought. But the patient smile you had been rewarded with at dinner had vanished, replaced with something shrewd.

"What are you playing at, husband?" You stressed the word as you steeled your stance against him.

"I'm not sure I understand, (Y/N). It is a husband's duty to dote upon his wife as he sees fit," He remarked while his hands gripped tight to the armrests of his throne.

"You can stop pretending now that we are alone. Lord knows I have," You mumbled the last bit, but Ivar had heard. Maybe you had wanted him to.

"Come sit, and talk with me," He said, indicating to your throne next to his. 

The seriousness of the request left you with little choice, and you gathered up your skirts while keeping your head high as you made your way beside him. There was a constant cloud of anger that seemed to follow your husband wherever he went, but you didn't think he would hurt you. Sometimes when he would look at you, a wave of sadness would fall over his face, and it was as if he was seeing through you to something else.

"What do you wish to speak of, My Lord?"

Ivar winced, but he recovered by bringing his hand down on top of yours. This again. You kept your hand still as he laced your fingers together, the roughness of his palm stroking against your soft one.

"Are you happy here?" He asked, and the hesitation in the question was tangible. 

"Yes. The people are content, and the settlement is thriving."

"That's not what I asked." His tone was curt and to the point. It seemed he wanted to discuss the nature of your marriage, but the timing of it was mysterious to you. "I know the people talk of an heir, as I'm sure your father also mentioned."

"The people will always talk, My Lord. All you have to do is listen and decide what's worth hearing," You said, feeling your fingers start to tingle as his grip held firm. "As for my father, he is as any old King would be. Anticipating a grandchild so that he can pass from this world knowing his blood will live on."

His brow was furrowed into a frown. "When we are alone, call me Ivar."

"Alright...Ivar," You said, sampling the feel of his name on your tongue. You hadn't addressed him as such since your wedding.

"If we had a child, would that make you happy?"

His eyes were downcast as he spoke, which you were glad for, as he didn't see how his words had embarrassed you.

"I never said I was unhappy," You remarked. "And I don't think a child is something we are ready for yet."

"Because we are not in love," He sighed.

"Well, yes and no. I always knew I would marry a stranger with whom I wouldn't be in love. But marriage is a tool to strengthen kingdoms, and spread prosperity to its people. If you have that, you don't need love."

His eyes scrutinized you with something indiscernible, and he let go of your hand. You thought that perhaps your words had hurt him, but you didn't know why. When you had first been brought forth by your father to meet with Ivar, you had thought he was handsome. Perhaps a bit too quick to act in anger, as you had witnessed during the meeting, but you had hoped he was a man you would grow to love. Months later, and you were sleeping in separate beds with your virtue still intact, so it frustrated you to see him be upset by what you had said. 

"Is that why you accept gifts from other men," His tone was harsh, and you thought he hated you then by the dark look in his eyes.

You jumped up from your throne, and rounded on him with fury. This marriage had insulted you long enough. "What are you accusing me of?"

He searched for something just beneath the collar of his tunic, and what he showed you was the hammer pendant of one of his Gods that hung from his neck. "I know you have one. Which man gave it to you? I will not have my reign tarnished by a whore Queen, not again."

Your stomach burned from the insult, and much of what he said you did not understand. His insinuation had stung, and you had little care for finding out about what he meant by 'again'. 

You pulled the small bracelet out of the sleeve of your dress. The twine was too short to be a necklace, but you wore it all the same because it was special to you.

"You mean this I presume. How you came to discover it, I can only assume you have entered my chambers without my consent."

"I'm your husband, and King, I don't need your consent," He shot back.

"Then let me tell you about the man who gifted it to me one day while I walked the market. His name is Einarr, a son of one of your warriors. He is eight years old, not even old enough to have an armring yet."

You took a small bit of satisfaction to see him struggle to retort. Whatever argument and claims he had built up against you in his head disappeared after your explanation. He sunk back in his throne, and you were pleased to see he had the humility to look guilty.

"Then why keep it hidden?"

"It's special to me, proof that even as a foreign Queen to your people, I can be respected. We haven't established a relationship to share such things," You exclaimed, everything that you had been holding back spilling out in an instant. It took a deep breath to calm yourself, to bring you back to the matters at hand. "I think we should stop...for now. Our alliance has thrived by us acting separately, and perhaps that is how it should stay."

"I regret the things I've said," Ivar hurried to say, his voice now thin from weariness. 

It was a small comfort, and you both knew it. "If there is nothing else, My Lord, I should like to retire?"

There was nothing he could have said in that moment that could have kept you there and not made you resentful, so with a wave of his hand, he dismissed you. 

When you were far enough away, you let your shoulders sag, and let out a quiet sigh of defeat. Despite how he had hurt you with his words, neither of you walked away the victor. The hill to surmount in your marriage had just become a mountain, and you weren't certain it could ever be conquered. Judging by the crashing and shouting coming from the Great Hall, Ivar's black mood had returned. Maybe he felt the same. You held the small wooden hammer in your hand all the way back to your chambers, praying to any God that would listen to guide you on your way to mending your marriage before it was too late.

Tag List

@blah-blah-fuckit-shit 

@tgrrose

#vikings #vikings ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x you #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #vikings imagine #ivar fic #history vikings #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar angst

[sanchosammy]

It wasn’t a mistake.

Description: You and Frankie have been best friends for years, which is why you’re shocked to wake up in his bed after a night of drinking together. Too scared he’ll push you away after this, you push him out first. Too bad the two of you are forced to deal with your feelings on a camping trip with the guys.

Warnings: Cursing, talks of sex, drinking, I think that’s all?

NOTE: This isn’t my best work, I am not going to lie. but it is a fun read if you’re interested. Enjoy babes!

Word Count: 5,038.

“Fuck,” You moaned out. The pain from your splitting headache made for a rude awakening from your slumber. A familiar smell of cologne surrounded you as you breathed in, and a coolness lingered over your exposed skin causing you to stir further.

Your eyes slowly lifted open as you looked around your surroundings. Frankie’s bedroom... 

Oh God, Frankie’s bedroom. You noticed his arm loosely hugging your waist as he slept. The alcohol filled memories started to flood your brain and the night came back to you.

You found out about your promotion yesterday, which was kind of a big deal to you. It was something you worked your ass off for and to be recognized with a raise was everything you wanted. The boys wanted to celebrate with you truly, but it all fell through. Everyone had something come up last minute.

It wasn’t something taken personally by you, you didn’t know about the promotion until the last minute yourself. However, that did not stop Francisco Morales from wanting to celebrate this moment with you. The two of you were the closest out of everyone, a friendship that was filled with so many stupid stories and wonderful memories.

With the pictures to prove it.

Frankie was there no matter the situation. The man simply had balance to him, he would be there when you needed some to wrap their arms around you for comfort but he would also spend his weekend helping you with house projects. He does it all. The problem was he was too good of a man. Which left you madly in love with him. It started off throughout your time in the army together. You had only grown closer as time went on. Him and you spending more time together than anyone else within the last three years. 

You thought over the night before to remember how you found yourself in Frankie’s bed. The two of you had never even kissed before, how did it escalate into sex so fast? 

You carefully sat up trying not to disturb Frankie’s sleeping figure. The side of his face was pushed against his pillow as his arm hung around you. He looked so peaceful when he slept. A small smile formed as you noticed his bedhead, you loved his shaggy hair.

You looked around the room as you once again thought over the memories. Frankie wanted to celebrate the promotion no matter how much you told him it wasn’t a big deal. He knew you wanted to acknowledge your hard work deep down so he pushed on anyway. It started off with a small cheers with a couple of beers, and that turned into full blown drinking after Frankie decided to teach you an old drinking game he played as a teenager.

Truthfully, it was a simple game. You needed a shot glass and a bottle cap. The both of you had to take turns attempting to get the bottle cap into the shot glass from a distance, and if you missed then you had to drink. And if one of you actually managed to get the cap into the glass, the other person had to chug their drink.

The both of you knew you were too old to be drinking like this, but the game became a friendly competition between the two of you. The small example round turning into a full blown game and after a while the both of you were equally fucked up.

You don’t know why the mood shifted. At some point Frankie’s touch seemed to light a fire on your skin, and he must’ve felt it too because he was the first one to lean in for the kiss. Which somehow turned into the two of you having sex in his bedroom. You could remember it and you knew Frankie would too. The both of you knew how to handle your alcohol, but the judgement of sleeping with your best friend seemed to slip away with a little help from liquid courage.

Your cheeks burned at the details flashing through your mind. You had fantasized about the idea of sleeping with Frankie countless times, seeming you’ve been in love with him so long, but the real thing was so much better than you could’ve expected. He was focused on you the entire time and dammit… Francisco was a giving lover. 

The picture of him between your legs was now burned in your mind. A shame lingered behind though. You slept with your best friend. How could you do something so stupid? You managed to not openly flirt with the man for over several years and it all came crashing down after the both of you knocked back a few drinks? 

The realization of how this changed everything creeped in. The two of you probably wouldn’t be the same after this. From the silence of the house you could hear your heart shatter if you listened hard enough. All of your time together stripped away from you within a night. 

Your eyes burned at the sudden presence of hot tears. You just wanted to leave at this point, it was overwhelming. How could something feel so right, and somehow end up being so wrong? 

You shifted from the bed removing his arm as gentle as you could. Finding your clothes scattered on the floor and you hurriedly put them on. You were for sure a little hungover, but you’d have to pick something up on the way home because you didn’t have the balls to face him and have the ‘This was a mistake’ talk. You just couldn’t, it would absolutely crush you.

You closed his door and made sure to lock it behind you. The sun was too bright today as you forced yourself into the car faster than usual. The light from the sky and your sudden sky rocket of emotion causing the headache to feel so much worse.

As you backed out of his driveway, you found tears streaming down your face silently. You weren’t one to just burst into tears but this felt like a death suddenly. A death in friendship and a passing of the best part of your life so far. You looked at his house once more before pulling off and heading home.

+

The phone beeped again. You looked at it across the room before turning the TV louder. At this point you simply ignored your phone at all costs. It had been a week since you last saw Frankie, and to be honest you’ve been purposefully ignoring the man. When he did finally wake up after you left, there was no hesitation on his end to call you but you didn’t answer. And then there were several texts throughout the week. 

You tried not to read them. A few you happened to catch a glimpse of because out of a sickened curiosity you wondered if he hated you after what happened. The few that you caught said ‘(Y/N), call me please.’, ‘Can we talk about what happened?’, ‘Please talk to me.’. 

In your mind, all Frankie wanted to talk about was how this wouldn’t happen again. That it was a mistake, or maybe that drunken mistakes happen and he didn’t see you in that way. No matter what he had to say, it was somehow going to hurt you and you couldn’t bring yourself to face it. You were brave in the direct aim of live bullets shooting straight at you on operations, and somehow you found yourself being such a coward at the idea of emotional pain.

The phone rang out again and you found yourself annoyed at this point. Not at the fact Frankie was attempting to reach you all week, but that you were being forced to face emotional baggage of your failed love life. You pulled yourself off the couch and snatched the phone off the counter to silence it, that was until you saw the caller ID. 

You swiped to accept and put the phone to your ear. A part of you was nervous Frankie had told him, but you knew he wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t kiss and tell, or so you hoped so. 

“Hey Santiago!” 

“Hey, where you been cariño? You’re usually blowing up my phone more.” He teased you, but he was serious somewhat about the question.

You talked to all of the guys throughout your week, some more than others but that was kind of your thing nonetheless. All of you left the army with a brotherhood, and though they weren’t saps about it. Those boys were emotionally attached to you, and somewhat even adored you.

You sighed out a huff pulling some excuse out your ass about work and the promotion. He brushed the topic forward to what he really called for, “This isn’t going to be a problem for the trip, right?

You paused in your spot as you reviewed his words in your mind… Fuck, the camping trip. Your silence wasn’t the answer Pope wanted to hear. 

All of you planned out this camping trip so everyone could meet up somewhere that wasn’t a bar. It was some idea you had thrown out carelessly one night, and you were actually excited when everyone came around to the idea pretty fast. Even old grumpy ass Tom was willing to join in after a little persuading of drinking beers in the woods away from all his stress and worries. Needless to say, that sold him pretty easy.

However, this was before you drunkenly hooked up with your best friend. You ignored Frankie all week and the trip was in less than three days. You couldn’t possibly face him for several days in the literal woods without any escape from your embarrassment. No, absolutely not.

“I don’t think I can, Santi… I’m going to be pretty piled up with work now.” You lied. You felt awful doing so, but you lied your ass off.

“Listen, you’re not getting out of this trip unless you’re dead or kidnapped.” Yeah, that sounded like Santiago. You tried to cut in with a but before he continued, he brushed off your plea to escape this. “You’re not cancelling on us, (Y/L/N). I don’t care if I have to pull you out of bed Saturday morning, you’re coming with us.”

Fuck me. You have to be kidding me. You internally groaned.  “Alright, alright! No need to threaten me, sheesh. I’ll be ready.”

In much Santiago style, he teased you with a “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” which pulled a chuckle out of you in response as you rolled your eyes.

You said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. The home screen goes back to reveal the five missed text messages and two missed calls from Frankie from this week. You guiltily put your phone back down to once again pretend you didn’t see the unopened messages from him.

You had no idea how you were going to get through this trip without wanting to throw yourself off a cliff. This was about to be torture.

+

You pulled into Frankie’s driveway noticing several men gathered around a van, all of them filled with laughter about something. All of you pitched in to rent a travel van instead of driving two separate cars. Unsure on who decided that bright idea because six of you in a van sounded like possibly the best and worst experience all in one.

The group turned towards you as you shut the car door behind you. “Finally, the pretty one has arrived.” You chirped in as a joke. Will replied before anyone else had a chance to, “Oh please, you know that’s Pope’s title.”

You would’ve smacked him on the arm jokingly, but Will picked you up in a bear hug before you could. You hadn’t seen him in nearly two months, and so the hug was extra special this time. You laughed in his tight hold before he released you back on your feet.  You made sure to hug the rest of the guys as you always did.

The comfort of their hugs is something money couldn’t buy.. After you hugged Tom you noticed Frankie wasn’t around. As awful as it sounded, a part of you hoped he would cancel out on the trip because of the awkwardness between the both of you.

“Catfish is inside, he’ll be out in a second.” Will commented as he noticed your wandering eyes. You just nodded before going back to your car to pull out the cooler. Benny followed behind to help without being asked. 

You purchased half of the food for the trip. Everyone had agreed to pitch money in for different parts of the trip. Food, supplies, gas, and so forth. You pulled your backpack from the backseat before locking the doors, fully ready to start your little adventure.

“Hey,” Frankie’s voice came from behind you causing you to jump. You turned to look at him before mumbling a quiet hey back. You noticed how he looked at you in a way that seemed like he was studying your face rather than simply looking at it. His brown eyes scanning over your features.

You knew he wanted to say something about your disappearance the past week. You could see it on his face. He was fully ready to confront the situation, and he would’ve if your mutual friends weren’t standing behind him.

You looked at each other silently for a moment. Frankie was looking at you like a kicked animal, and he felt like one too. The emotional and physical distance you placed confused and hurt him more than you knew.

You shifted your stare past him to break the uncomfortable eye contact only to find Santiago watching the moment unfold. You pushed past Frankie without a word before heading to the van.

Normally, in any situation, you had unspoken rights to sit beside Frankie. It was just an unofficial rule that everyone naturally followed by now, and that’s probably why Tom and Santiago stared at you suspiciously as you crammed yourself in the back seat with Will instead.

The hurt in Frankie’s face wasn’t something you were blind to. He sat down with a huff coming from his chest as he found a spot in front of you beside Ben. The whole situation was becoming ridiculous and you knew that, but you couldn’t find the strength to talk it out with him. You found it so much easier to avoid the situation completely as selfish as it was.

Will wrapped his arm around you and snickered, “Looks like I stole your girl, fish.”

You cringed in response to his words. Frankie crossed his arms as he adjusted in his seat. If someone didn’t know Frankie well, it seemed like he just ignored the statement completely. A joke that he didn’t find funny possibly. However, you could read his body language. His shoulders remained tight as they often did when he was stressed out.

You wanted to shrink under the vision of Tom who looked at you from the sun visor mirror. It was only a small moment of eye contact before he lifted the visor back up. This was going to be a long three days… 

+

The rest of the car ride wasn’t terrible. The conversation moved to different topics like Benny’s upcoming fight, which you promised to go to. Sunset was already in motion once you arrived at the location and so the six of you carried stuff down the trail as a team.  It kind of reminded you of the past and it was a little heart warming of a thought.

You all agreed on a spot that was far out from the other campers. It could have been the bitterness of a grumpy old man but none of you wanted to deal with people on this trip. It was meant to be total isolation with friends.

“Wait a minute, what’s this?” You asked as you picked up the box. A tent labeled for four to six people. No, he did not. “Will, you seriously expect everyone to sleep in the same tent for three days?”

All eyes shifted to Will. Tom letting out a dramatic huff with a ‘isn’t that fucking great.’ and everyone else let out some sort of complaint at the thought of being squished together for several days.

“What?” Will shrugged as he pulled the box from your hands. He walked back over to where the tent was supposed to go  soon as he snickered out. “You guys scared I’m gonna cuddle you or some shit?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m more scared you’ll get the wrong idea. I don’t think you’re our type, sorry Ironhead.”

The joke earned a few chuckles from the rest of the guys. Will hardly looked over at you as he replied, his focus remained too busy on pulling out the tent materials. “Apparently nobody’s your type. I mean, seriously, when was the last time we’ve seen Ghost date somebody?”

Your face felt warm from embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong though, it had been nearly two years since you’ve been on an actual date. Tom chuckled as he looked up from the little travel grill he was setting up for dinner “He’s got you there. You batting for the other team or something, (Y/N)?”

Everyone pretended to continue their tasks but you could feel their attention on you. You handed him the supplies for dinner as you mumbled out, clearly unhappy by the question “No, I just… haven’t found someone is all.”  

A certain pair of eyes were burning in the back of your head. A pain in Frankie’s heart as he heard the words. It was not only a confirmation that you regretted the week before, but that you weren’t interested in him at all. He wanted to go home already, this was a stupid idea.

There was a weird shift in the air before Will returned to the original topic at hand. “There’s another tent over there. Walmart only had two left in the camping section,” 

And sure enough there was. The second tent was much smaller and by the time you helped finish setting them both up, you realized one of them would only fit two people inside. You fell back into the chair looking at the work you accomplished in the thirty minutes. 

“So, who is sleeping in the peasant tent?” You joked.

“You and Frankie.” Santi commented casually as he helped Tom. The both of them focused on the burger’s he attempted to cook on the small travel grill. Frankie watched you to see your reaction.

“What? Why us?” You mumbled popping the top off your beer. 

Santi continued “Why not? The two of you have already shared a bed before at the rental house. That is unless you’re trying to sneak me into your tent, (Y/N).” He winked before looking back at the food. He flirted mindlessly but it was never serious with Pope, he saw you as a sister at the end of the day.

 “Frankie it is then.” You laughed but inside you wanted to die. You had to sleep next to Frankie for three nights after the awkward tension of sleeping together. What did you do so wrong in the world, you wondered.

Time had passed by pretty quick. Everyone was full from dinner and sitting around the fire with a beer. You found yourself next to Will once again. At this point it was simply to avoid putting your chair next to Frankie to put some distance between the two of you. 

Benny was talking about some girl he was seeing for the last two months. “Yeah, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s going to work out.” He sipped his beer as he stared into the fire.

“What, why?” You asked.

“I think she’s more into the idea of hooking up more than anything.” He shrugged. 

You hummed in acknowledgment before Tom chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re complaining about having sex with someone.”

“Leave him alone, Benny is a teddy bear. He needs a little more care with his lovin’” You mumbled with a teasing smile as you pulled your jacket tighter around you. Benny let out a small ‘whatever’ while laughing, not caring to explain himself further.

“Hey Fish, whatever happened to that girl you were seeing?” Tom looked over at him and everyone followed the action to watch Frankie now.

He looked a little surprised at the sudden attention. When the conversation wasn’t on him, he liked to sit back and listen in silence for the most part. He tended to be a quiet person like that, not wanting to put forth too much.

He shook his head as he looked back down at the fire. His words coming out nonchalant and not interested in the topic, “Tina? That was over two years ago.” 

“No, not that one.” Tom said without much thought. Frankie stiffened as the realization washed over him. He never thought the situation would be brought to light. Tom continued on, “That one hookup a couple of months ago. You two didn’t have anything going on?”

Frankie found himself frozen under your sudden stare on him. His eyes caught yours, and he wanted to die in his seat.

It was a mindless one night stand… That happened twice, funny enough. It was the one thing he never mentioned to you in fear it would ruin his future chance. The whole thing happened seven months ago. Someone close to him passed suddenly and he wanted to forget it for a moment, and a woman he knew from high school happened to be in the bar two weekends in a row. 

“You never told me about that.” You tried to sound uninterested, but the look in your eyes spoke loudly. 

He cleared his throat. The ability to say anything helpful in this situation left him, and he just looked at the bottle in his hand. “It was a mistake anyway.” He said before pressing his lips to the top of the bottle and swallowing a mouthful.

You didn’t know why you were this upset. You sat miserable watching Frankie avoid your stare. 

Your jaw tight from anger building up inside. Not only were you hurt by him keeping secrets, but that wasn’t the part that hurt the most. Jealousy had washed over like some sort of fire. A painful and filled with an unstoppable burning inside. 

“Whatever, I’m going to go piss.” You muttered under your breath as you walked away from the men. You just wanted to be alone and away from him.

Santi shook his head as he stood up from his chair, “You’ve really done it now, Fish.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Frankie muttered as he crossed his arms and leaned into his chair hoping to sink into the ground.

Santiago ignored him as he followed you into the woods. He knew this was just some lame excuse to walk away from the situation. If sexual tension was ever in the air, the first person to find it would be Pope. He knew what was going on with the two of you, he figured it out after spending the day watching the both of you interact.

“So, when did you and Frankie sleep together?” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice. Santi matched with your now slowing steps as the both of you stopped completely. Far enough out of view from the boys. You recovered from the small scare before rolling your eyes, “What are you talking about Pope?” 

He chuckled with a small smirk on his face. The moon was the only reason you could see his face considering you forgot your flashlight in your hurry. “Oh, come on. You don’t think I know?”

You considered not answering because you didn’t want to admit out loud. The situation is humiliating enough already. A small sigh left your lips before you nodded in confirmation, your tone sounding defeated. “Alright, yeah. We slept together last week, but we were pretty drunk… It was a mistake.”

“I don’t think it was.” Pope commented as he found a tree to lean against. He watched you for a moment before continuing. “I know this isn’t my place to say this, but… Somebody needs to because Frankie won’t grow a pair. You know the real reason him and Tina broke up?”

You shrugged, “Something about not liking me around.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that was a part of it.” You watched as he chewed on his lip for a moment. He wasn’t nervous by any means, but deep in thought about what he was about to reveal. “They were in some argument one night, she asked him if he loved you… And he couldn’t say no.”

“What?” You were left stunned. Your mouth felt dry as you processed the information. 

Santi walked over laying a hand on your shoulder, “I’m telling you, (Y/N). It wasn’t a mistake.” He patted your shoulder as he walked past you and continued back to the campsite.

The talk was short and sweet, but it left you more confused than before. Did Frankie actually love you? He mentioned she didn’t like you in the past, but you didn’t know that was the reason. What if Frankie really stayed single this long because he was trying to find a chance with you?

You walked back in silence to the spot you came from. Frankie focusing on you as you walked into view before sitting down again. Nobody mentioned the situation with Santi, or how long you had been gone. It wasn’t worth ruining the conversation over. 

You found yourself leaning on Will’s shoulder sleepily. The chatter of friends filling your ears as you sat there quietly. You didn’t know if it was the emotions draining you or the day of travel. The longer the night went on you found yourself more and more tired.

You closed your eyes to rest them. It was supposed to be a second, but it must’ve been much longer because you opened them again and you were safely in the tent now.  You could tell Frankie was in the tent, his body as far away from you as possible as he slept. When did you fall asleep? When did everyone call it a night? You wondered silently.

You shivered in the drop of temperature. You didn’t think it would be this cold tonight, the weather throughout the day was so warm on your skin and now you had goosebumps. 

“Are you cold?” Frankie’s quiet voice scared you. He shifted from his side onto his back as he looked over at you.

“Shit, you scared me.” You let out a quiet laugh before clearing your throat awkwardly, your voice thick with sleep. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

He paid no attention to your comment as he moved his extra blanket on you instead. You attempted to make out his features as he moved to lay back down in his spot away from you, the darkness of the tent made it impossible though. A moment passed as you listened to the sound of his quiet breathing.

You swallowed hard trying to settle your nerves before speaking up in a whisper. “I’m sorry by the way.”

“For what?” He asked, turning his face towards yours. He wished he could see your beautiful face.

“Everything… I shouldn’t have avoided you, you know?” 

He heard you, but he didn’t reply. The soft sound of crickets outside filled your ears instead. You decided to continue even if it wasn’t the ideal location to do so. “Do you regret sleeping with me?” 

“No…” His voice croaked from whispering. He cleared his throat after a bit before asking “Do you?”

“No,” You admit and although you couldn’t see it, a small smile formed on his face. A chance of hope flashing through his eyes. 

“Can I tell you something?” You breathed out.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Frankie stiffened when he felt your hand brush against his. When he realized you were reaching out to hold it, his fingers automatically linked between yours and he squeezed your hand softly.

“Don’t laugh at me, okay?” Your voice broke with emotion before you let out a breathy chuckle. His thumb subconsciously began to stroke your hand in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since the first time we went on a helicopter ride.”

He stopped to recall the memory. Both of you were still in the army together when Frankie wanted to take you on your first flight. You were so nervous in the beginning, he had spent half the flight talking to keep you distracted. “That was over five years ago.” Frankie commented, the shock was noticeable in his voice. 

“Yeah, I know.” You laughed.

Frankie moved closer to you. His movements slow and careful in case you asked him to stop. He was leaning above you now, you didn’t realize how close he was until you could feel the warmth of his breath. Your fingers moved to run through his hair similar to the way they did the night you slept together. He was hesitant to move in as if he wasn’t sure if he should kiss you, so you leaned in pressing your lips to his. 

The kiss was slow and drawn out this time as if Frankie was soaking in the moment. Unlike the night before when the two of you were nearly falling over each other. He pulled away pressing his forehead against yours “I’ve known since the time you made me a cake for my birthday.”

“Frankie, that was our first year in the Army?” 

He chuckles as he pecks your lips, repeating the same line you used, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why did we wait this long?” You asked out loud. Your arms wrapped around him before he pulled you down to lay on his chest instead. His body heat warming you up within seconds.

He shook his head. He should’ve done this so long ago. A smile settled on his face as the realization settled in he finally got his girl.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier catfish #triple frontier x you #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier #Pedro Pascal #Pedro pascal fanfic

[the-girl-in-the-box]

Can You Imagine? IX

A/N: Answers! There are answers here, finally! There is also a tw for graphic descriptions of violence here. I hope you don't all hate me for what the answers are, but I also hope things do make much more sense. The explanation in this is still a little vague, but fear not- you will have a very clear cut explanation shortly. So, until then, skål!

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

--

The Unimaginable

King Harald had no warning. He had no time to prepare, hadn’t even heard that he had lost in Kattegat. This was all because Freydis and Lagertha had chosen to launch an attack on Vestfold before word could reach him of his defeat. When no news had come, Harald had begun to suspect something, but the armies of Kattegat had been on him before he could do anything about it.

Thus, he found himself on his knees, restrained by red smoke, looking up into the eyes of a woman he’d never believed could do harm. But her clear blue eyes now glowed red, and not one muscle in his body would move without her approval. Though, his eyes could follow her as she spoke to Lagertha, who he had never imagined would work with the wife of Ivar the Boneless, and with Björn, and Ubbe, and Torvi.

They were allies against him. The thought might once have stung, or perhaps he should have been concerned that it didn’t sting, but instead, he found he wasn’t all that surprised. They all loved Kattegat, and not one of them wanted him to rule it. Regardless of which brother was King, regardless of what woman was Queen, they wanted the throne to remain in the line of Ragnar Lothbrok. At least, Harald thought, he could take comfort in the infighting which would come now Kattegat had been defended.

Eventually, Freydis seemed to finish discussing whatever it was with Ragnar’s family, and she turned to walk toward him. His eyes followed her across the room as she approached, the only part of his body he could move. Even so, he could tell it was only happening because she was allowing it.

The witch crouched down in front of him, her eyes narrowed as she watched him. Red smoke danced at her fingertips, reflecting the red glow of her eyes. He was fairly certain no Völva appeared this way, but truthfully, he could explain her power in no other way. At the very least, she was unnerving.

A small smirk stretched across her lips, and he wondered very briefly if she could feel his fear. He wouldn’t put it past her. “You know what I want,” she told him, and though he had been about to question her, he realized he did know.

“You want me to tell you how to find your husband and your son,” he said, and chuckled. “They are dead. I had them killed, in case I lost against your Kingdom. Clearly, I made the right decision.”

Her eyes narrowed. Not one word of his answer was false, and he had even seen both done. For a few moments, he had debated keeping Baldur for his own heir, but he needed his own blood to inherit what he would leave behind. Not the son of Ivar the Boneless.

“They are alive,” she said after a few moments of silence. “Try again. You know what I want.”

Harald couldn’t help the chuckle that left him. “You want me to tell you how to find your husband and your son,” he surmised. “They live, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said flatly. “I have everything under control. Why should I be afraid?”

“You think we do not feel your fear?” he questioned, tilting his head. “We feel it in our chests, it pounds in our heads, echoes in our minds. Your fear, and your pain, Queen Freydis. You are in control. But what good does it do if you fear so much, and feel so much pain? You control everything, everything but the truth.”

Something in her eyes snapped, and she lifted a hand. Harald gave a strangled gasp as he felt a sharp, horrible pain in his neck. The pain was so bad, he tried to swallow. But, he did so only to discover he couldn’t. He couldn’t breathe, either, and the answer to why was sitting right in front of him, the red glow in her eyes more intense. Her hand was lifted, red smoke dancing from her fingers and wrapping around his throat.

“Another word, and I will rip out your throat,” she hissed. “You do not understand my pain. Do not pretend you can. Where are my husband and my son?”

Harald panted when he was finally released, and he gave her the answer. How could he deny her? In the end, she nodded, leaving him to watch as she walked away. There was still a red mist gathered at her fingers, though it seemed far more thinned out than it had just a moment ago. Perhaps that was how it looked when she called her magic back to her.

As he watched her return to Lagertha and the other Vikings, he realized something in his body felt… wrong. It felt as though his bones were crumbling in his body, his blood leaking out into his body. Harald’s heart was pounding as he felt this, felt himself… deteriorating on the inside, and he looked up at Freydis again.

“Witch!” he called. “What are you doing to me?”

Freydis turned back to him with a hardened look in her eye, not even bothering to smirk at him. “I am making you more familiar with pain and fear,” she said. “They will be the last things you know.”

Harald began to hyperventilate, until he felt his lungs turn to dust, and he could no longer breathe. Finally, Freydis smirked, and she lifted her hand. “You will also know how it felt when you stole my son from his bed, and kept my husband captive here,” she told him, and flexed her fingers just slightly. A feeling of dread settled in his core. “It felt like this.”

Without warning, something broke out of his chest, and he watched in horror as he felt no beating behind his ribs, even at the sight of his heart held in the Queen’s hand. His pain didn’t even last another half minute, before his body began to disintegrate just there, until King Harald Finehair turned to dust, and his heart became liquid which slipped between her fingers.

Freydis gave a shake of her hand, and the blood splattered across the ground, ridding her of the excess. “I want to find my husband and my son,” she told her new allies.

“We follow you, Queen Freydis,” Lagertha replied, and gave a respectful bow. Freydis nodded curtly, and began the walk to where Harald kept his prisoners.

The door creaked as it opened, and glowing blue eyes met glowing red. But the red of the Queen’s eyes faded the longer she looked into those of the King’s, and the magic at her fingertips finally died off, retreating into her body until she might have further use of it.

Tension filled the air as they stared, until Freydis finally crossed the room to him, and to the child he held in his arms, curled up and shaking against his body. Their son.

“Baldur,” she said softly, and her hand brushed through his hair. His eyes opened slowly as he looked up at her, and she smiled adoringly at him. “Baldur, my son, you are safe now.”

She waved her hand and the chains holding her husband and son down all fell open, dropping off them and setting them free. “We should go home, now. Kattegat is waiting for us.”

Freydis took Baldur into her arms and stood, cradling her son once more and kissing the top of his head. She would never take that for granted again, not having had to fight so hard for her family.

As they left the prison, they came to Lagertha, Torvi, Björn, and Ubbe, all standing and waiting on the family to emerge. Ivar’s eyes widened when he saw them, and he immediately brought his free hand on his wife’s shoulder, pulling her slightly back. This brought an amused smile to Lagertha’s face.

“Do you think we could hurt your wife?” she asked him. “She is too powerful for anyone to hurt. And her love for your Kingdom, and your family, is to be commended. She is a good woman, and we…” Lagertha turned back to those who stood behind her, all of whom nodded to confirm what she was thinking, before turning back to Ivar. “We are proud to have fought for her.”

Ivar blinked a few times, but then his eyes narrowed, and he stepped around Freydis, approaching Lagertha and watching her closely for a few moments. After a while, he nodded. “You have come to the aid of my wife, and of my Kingdom, and my people, in their defense from King Harald,” he said. “Years ago, you killed my mother, but now you have fought alongside my wife.” There was silence for another few tense moments, and then finally, he said, “The debt between us is paid.”

That night, there was a great feast in the halls of Kattegat. The Sons of Ragnar were all home, Lagertha and Torvi drank with old friends, and the celebrations went late into the night, until it could be certain no work would be done by any citizen of Kattegat. For the first time in many years, there was peace.

And then that peace ended.

Many days had passed, when Freydis began to feel a pull. It was a pull all in Kattegat knew well, the one which would bring any person to the Seer’s doorstep. She did not knock, but simply stepped inside, looking for the Ancient One who would be able to answer why she felt the need to see him.

“Ancient One,” she greeted, and the Seer gave no more than a grunt in return. “You know why I have come, don’t you?”

“I know only what I am allowed to know,” he said. “And I must guide based on those things.”

Freydis tilted her head slightly. “What things do you know?” she questioned.

The Seer looked to her, and she gazed down at his face with a thoughtful expression. She knew what he needed, knew for sure when he stretched out his hand, silently asking for hers. She presented it to him, her palm up, and he took her hand in his to keep it steady as he leaned forward and licked it. Her heart jolted.

“You have seen only what you wish to see,” he told her then, and leaned back. “All your senses deceive you, and your heart lies broken in the Great Hall of Kattegat, in the woods beyond the gates. However far you run, betrayal runs in your shadow, and when you wake you will face it a final time.”

Freydis narrowed her eyes at him, and crossed her arms then. “Speak clearly, Seer,” she chastised. “Who will betray me?”

“Your mind already betrays you,” he said. “It has given in to your heart, your deepest desires, and put them before your very eyes. All has been lost, and you refuse to leave the past.”

“I don’t refuse to leave anything,” she snapped. “Unless you consider the rescue of my son and husband a refusal to leave the past, in which case you are a fool. What woman would leave her family to die, when she has the power to save them?”

“You know my words do not refer to what is done in this world, but the existence of this world at all,” he countered. “It is the past, and you deceive yourself with good things, things which will slip through your fingers, and have done so before.

“All have gone into the dark. Those who are not yours, they feel the agony in your body, your nightmares are their own, and so you have freed yourself from them.”

Freydis glared harshly at him then as she leaned toward him. “You speak lies, Seer. They do not feel what I have felt. I would never allow that for these people. No one deserves to feel what I have felt.”

But in her mind, she remembered what Harald said before she took his life. Things had not gone as she wished for them to have gone. What she had intended to do, she had not been able to pull off perfectly. Her pain and anger bled through, filled the people in this world, and they suffered so she did not have to.

“I know only what I know,” he told her. “And I know what you have done. You are not the Queen of Kattegat, you are the Queen of Chaos, and the magic in your veins will leave destruction in its wake.”

“And you mean for me to destroy this world I have created,” she said, and frowned. “You mean for me to return to the world I know, where I am alone, and I carry this pain alone. Is that true?”

“If you choose for it to be,” he answered. “Or you may not be alone. Your decisions will write reality. The nature of the magic under your skin will bend the truth to your will. But you must wake, or all will be lost.”

He was right, and that was the worst thing. Freydis knew she could never have anything, truly, if she did not wake from this dream. It had been a good one, while it lasted, but the trouble was that it could not last. Not in any good way.

She swallowed, and he could see the hostility melting out of her. “How long do I have?” Freydis questioned.

“You will have until night falls,” he said. “And when there is new light, there will be new life. Take it, and build what you have loved here again. Your magic is chaos. Bow to no order.”

The Seer’s words haunted Freydis as she walked through the streets of Kattegat. As she looked around herself now, she recognized the truth. She had always known it to be true, had known her control came from the fact she had created this, but she had created something false. Her heart had broken, it needed repair, but the repair it needed would only come in what was real.

It would come in a small apartment, through fighting her husband, through hearing him, and through speaking to him. It would not come from an idyllic life which was not real, and could never satisfy her.

Her feet carried her beyond the gates, beyond the wall which surrounded the world she had once called home. They carried her to the woods, and eventually, to the place where King Ragnar Lothbrok and King Björn Ironside once sat and looked over their Kingdom, the weight of the crown fresh on their head.

She looked down at her hands, and looked up to the mountains behind her. If she began undoing this all now, it would reach the Great Hall at nightfall, and by dawn, she would wake.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she lifted her hands, as her magic poured from her fingertips, and it enveloped the world she loved. The world she lost. And she wept, she wept as her heart broke once more.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927, @punkrocknpearls, @pomegranates-and-blood

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #freydis #queen freydis #ivar x freydis #freyvar #alex hogh andersen #alicia agneson #ivar's heathen army #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #can you imagine? #chapter nine

[unfortunatelysirius]

UNEXPECTED | Regulus Black, Marauders Era

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

Request // Regulus finds something unexpected—at a Slug Club dinner party, with a girl named Y/N L/N.

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

Sorry if this sucked.

        LOVE.

                Even the word itself felt like a promise. It could come like a metaphor, as gentle as misted rain, or it was a broken idea, radiating animosity that maimed worse than misplaced surgical lesions. Some folks went their entire lives without knowing it, feeling it, getting the chance to embrace and relish it—while others did indeed get a taste only for it to scorch like too-hot coffee. A funny little thing, love was. As scary as it was delightful.

        Regulus Black didn’t know much about love. He only knew bleak sun—and a yearning that churned his stomach like butter. If he let his thoughts wander off too far, they’d explore territory too disturbingly foreign he’d have no choice but to retreat. His parents taught him discipline and obedience, but “love” was a rare occurrence; truthfully, the only person who ever even had an inkling of understanding for it was his brother Sirius, and the bastard left Regulus to bleed under the ripe moon. He knew what hatred felt like, same with spite, same with betrayal, same with repulsion.

        Then he descended on the path weary travelers couldn’t cross.

        It all started at the start of his fifth year, getting worse from there. He began noticing the Gryffindor who never stopped challenging professors and requested an extension on nearly every Charms essay. Who always wore an untidy uniform with the shirt untucked, cloak rumpled, and two different stockings. Who could be more quiet than a fairy’s whisper but the loudest personality in the room. Who once punched Giovanni Rivera, some snob in Hufflepuff, so hard in the nose he stayed slumped unconscious by a knight in the open dungeon corridor for an entire night.

        He noticed you.

        It was entirely accidental. Regulus was not someone to dive head-first, always treading the shallow end before walking into riptides that couldn’t be foreseen. He was caution in a world of chaos. He didn’t want to know the definition of “love,” even though he thought that was what he felt for Sirius. Brotherly love. The love someone had for another that protected them, provided for them in times of need. Then Sirius was labelled the family disgrace, shunned by Orion and Walburga; the perfect little Slytherin son, Regulus shunned him too. Regulus lost that feeling and failed to find it again, even in his circle of friends that mocked tainted blood and wanted more than meager lives. They aspired for a Wizarding World cleansed of impure magic; Regulus wasn’t sure what he wanted.

        He quickly became lonely. As the days turned to months then years, he preoccupied himself with his studies—working diligently to fabricate a living lie like he had any future outside of the Dark Lord’s bidding. He envied Sirius for breaking from the family so soon, forcing Regulus into a compromised position; their parents scrutinized him more carefully now and expected more than he would have had to provide if Sirius was the pride-and-joy firstborn they could have turned into a great ally, rather than an adversary.  Regulus hated it, hated that whatever he liked and the little joys he had in life were useless now that he had one reason to live. There was little to his life except growing up to be part of the Dark Lord’s army. Regardless of anything, he did know what he hoped for. The only thing that truly, truly belonged to him was his hope. It was different from his aspirations, as even those were polluted by conditioned hate.

        He watched you frequently. He watched you curse his own brother, Sirius, for calling you a suck-up. He admired your appearance, from your Y/H/L Y/H/C hair to your facial structure, the effortless way you stood and walked, the kindness in your expression when guiding none-the-wiser first years. You were the same year as him, fifth year, and an entire breed of your own. Regulus didn’t know when he began falling for you. Well, the idea of you. You encompassed freedom, and fuck if Regulus didn’t crave freedom. He wanted to see himself careless, able to act out and be himself inconsequentially. This was an impossibility he loved to consider, like a dreamer in a room of realists. His parents expected the most out of him and in his crystal ball, all that laid in wait was the Dark Mark etched in his skin. Death and destruction. His head dark and heavy. It wasn’t happiness that killers strived for—it was pleasure. Power, too. Regulus knew he was different from the others. He had to hide it and fight every inch of himself that wanted what Sirius had. Freedom.

        Regulus wanted to unleash every idea, every desire, every unspoken dislike. A brave heart scratched from under his skin, itching to have a say.

        Sirius was the courageous one, not him.

        He stuck to watching from afar.

-

        You hated Potions class. You hated parties. You hated Slughorn. Most of all, you hated Slug Club parties. Dammit, you hated your life.

        “Why did you drag me here, Lily?” you complained for the umpteenth time, fidgeting in your Gryffindor-red attire. You didn’t even like this shade of red. It was one of those colors you got tired of after seeing at every waking hour. All the assholes that prided themselves in the House the Sorting Hat bellowed, uniquely chosen for them… bleh! Dawning red and gold, parading around in Gryffindor scarfs bought for a bargain. You couldn’t be bothered. Lily had begged that the two of you go in a matching set, as one of your good friends. You never envisioned yourself agreeing. Fucking Lily, conniving you into wearing a dress like looked like it was sewn from a red Christmas stocking and attending a Slug Club party.

        Lily smiled innocently. “You owed me a favor!”

        A favor. You wracked your brain for any situation you’d been a part of where Lily offered her help. As your honorary big sister and a sixth-year prefect, she was the one calling for damage control whenever you did something warranting of punishment… and you didn’t want to fulfill your duties as a serious student. She chastised you at your worst but boosted you up too. Your best consisted of her praise and affection. You loved her, yes, but you didn’t love what owing her favors implied. It always wound you up in some unlikable predicament, such as this godforsaken party.

        “I don’t owe you shite,” you grumbled, pinning your eyes on a table of refreshments over by the door. You belatedly noticed a figure standing by it. The air went still and silent, your blood pulsating like a gushing river of red. Your eyes narrowed just the slightest bit. Regulus Black was sharply—no, impeccably dressed, standing with his glossy dark hair in a neat do and his gray eyes watching the floor indifferently. When he got too close to looking at you, you quickly turned away. Lily was already raising a brow. “What? I don’t.”

        “Yeah, okay,” Lily said amusedly. As she reopened her mouth to remind you of your every last unreturned favor and escaped week of detention, she spotted something over your head and a look of horror struck; you gauged this by the way her eyes bulged at the sockets. “Oh, Merlin—why the bloody Hell is he here? I’ll talk to you later, Y/N. Try to have some fun.”

        She retreated like a squirrel from a hound, her body launching at the occupied Slughorn over half a room away. As she was nearly there a bulk dressed in black dress robes followed, at a tame pace compared to Lily’s. You knew it was James only by the unruly mess of black hair you saw from his enrobed backside profile.

        You rolled your eyes and snuck another glance at Regulus. He wasn’t looking your way.

Try to have some fun, my arse.

-

You were here. Regulus didn’t know how, but you were. He hadn’t calculated what he’d do if you attended this party, not knowing you were a member. He assumed you weren’t, a rash assumption by all accounts, and that costed him. He didn’t want to be dogged by the thought of you all night, and now that your presence was mere feet from him, his mental duties seemed like lost causes. The burning urge to stare at you, consequences be damned, was incinerating—and control failed him left and right. Fucking hell.

Regulus filled a drink for himself. A punch of some kind. He drank it in one go, hoping the taste would eliminate you from his mind. If it were bad enough he could instead be hounded by his throbbing throat, gagging like no tomorrow. That would be better than this.

The punch didn’t work its magic. He looked again at you and calculated the inevitable penalty of making an approach.

        Cursing his luck or lack thereof, he felt less inclined to drown himself in the punch bowl upon the appearance of a bloke he had in Potions, Terrence something. He was a Ravenclaw know-it-all, but he was Pureblood. He could go overlooked conversing with the fellow. Regulus was a master of mimicry and had his haughty Slytherin performance down pat.

        The bloke asked too many questions and was evasive on topics Regulus had no interest in discoursing, but he was a well-welcomed distraction. Or ill-welcomed. Regardless of the reception, Regulus’s ambivalence towards you transitioned to an annoyance towards Terrence. Annoyance, that he could work with. He felt it most days. It was familiar territory. A stroke of olive on a canvas of emerald where you were lavender.

        It worked. It worked until Terrence bid a hasty farewell, trailing after some quiet, expressionless brunette from Slytherin.

        Regulus subtly scowled. Out of the corner of his eye he looked at you, surreptitious in a way he remembered from parties he went to hosted by well-known Pureblood families. You were in mid-conversation with some Gryffindor he knew from a mutual class the three of you shared. It was a bloke whose mouth seemed too keen on keeping a conversation going and hand was swaying too closely to your waist. Regulus’s eyes hardened without his meaning to, and before he knew it, his feet were in complete control; he walked to the two of you with renewed purpose.

-

        You were ready to unleash your inner ugly. Random people kept coming up and trying to talk to you, each of them more mentally-taxing than the last. First there was Cornelius, an absolute walking disaster, then there was Dave, who went on tangents without checking to see if you were listening. Then Kala, then Paisley, then Travis. Finally, there was Justin. Justin was a compulsive flirt. You politely tried to get him to fuck off, but he just wasn’t catching the hint or acknowledging your blatant apathy in what he had to say. He wouldn’t understand discomfort on the part of his conversational partner if it slapped him in the face.

        It was like a blessing and a nightmare when Regulus Black, wearing a cold expression and marginally more perfect up close than he was from a distance, appeared.

        “Can I borrow you for a moment, L/N?” he asked, something off about his voice. Your eyes narrowed. If you had to garner a guess, you’d say he was straining to maintain a calm disposition, truly angry. The cold in his expression was cracking, giving way to heat. Had he noticed your wandering eye and wanted to clarify with you that he had no interest except to exterminate your muddy self from the Wizarding World? You were unsure; it was a common ideology among extremists, the hatred of non-Purebloods, but Regulus didn’t give off that ambiance. He didn’t feel like a future monster.

        “Sure,” you said, sneaking a glance at Justin. Justin’s face wasn’t aggravated at the interruption, just confused that Regulus Black had been the one to interrupt. Regulus kept to himself usually… and he hated anyone who wasn’t pure of blood, supposedly. “Sorry to cut this chat short, Justin. I’m sure there’s plenty of other birds to talk into a stupor around here…”

        Justin’s eyes lit up, disregarding the annoyance in your voice. “You’re right! Thanks, Y/N.”

        You raised your eyebrows at him but bit back a less subtle remark, following Regulus when his hand prompted you at the shoulder.

        “So, what was that back there?” you boldly asked, trying to avoid smirking. It was almost adorable, the way he swooped in and rescued you from a dolt. He couldn’t have approached you just to chastise your invasive stare or threaten you with death. You were taking a chance in assuming he came to save you the burden of dealing with Justin Doley’s bland chatter, but you didn’t care. You really didn’t. It was a sweet gesture if that were his true intention, but a niggling suspicion refused to believe it was. “Thank you, by the way. I was ready to lock my knees just so I could escape.”

        Regulus’s face blanched, a tinge of hot pink flooding his cheeks. His brows made a cute little furrow that gave the impression of a natural unibrow. “Why would you lock your knees?”

        “When you lock your knees, the blood stops circulating and can lead to fainting,” you said. Now you smirked. “Trying to avoid an answer? I’m hurt.”

        He frowned at you. “I’m not trying to avoid anything. It was nothing. You looked uncomfortable…”

        “I was more annoyed than anything,” you said, a correction you weren’t obligated to make. Seeing Regulus squirm was a pleasure on its own. He would already squirm, caught willingly communicating with a Gryffindor, but you had a tendency to go over and beyond in putting others on the spot. It made you a childish shade of giddy both inside and out, not that he would be able to tell. “You don’t have to keep talking to me, you know.”

        “Oh,” Regulus said but didn’t move. He stayed rooted where he was, watching you with a piercing gaze. Now that you were close enough to reach a finger across the distance and graze those gaunt, knife-sharp cheekbones, you ogled him. You knew he was gorgeous from the brief times you interacted and the long, solitary moments you took to dissect him outside lessons, but being so close and with no time limit, you took a chance. Your chance was a rescue mission disguised as a private discussion.

        A smile tore at your lips. “You clean up nice,” you said, your ogling session finished. You could stare at Regulus much longer than you deemed appropriate and actually did, but he was a moment and moments had the ability to pass you swiftly by. In this case, he’d leave without you getting to properly know him. Opportunistic as you were, you wouldn’t let him leave without taking what you could.

        Why would you even want to know him? you asked yourself. He’s probably a Muggleborn-hater. The heart wanted what the heart wanted, try as you might to logicize.

        Regulus frowned. “Thanks,” he said. He hesitantly snaked his eyes up and down your figure, stopping on your neckline. A beautiful necklace with your favorite gemstone adorned it, a gift from a Muggle relative. He cleared his throat aggressively. “You do too.”

        He’s a shy bugger, isn’t he?

        You inched closer, moving on a whim and putting your hand on his arm. Your fingers tightened around the material of his sleeve. He drew closer, like it was instinctive, and your eyelids fluttered as you basked in his perfumed, intimate proximity. You’d regret advancing on a Slytherin, especially one as admired and esteemed yet dark and dangerous as Regulus, but he just had this air about him. Like going from an altitude that took your breath away to one that had enough air to burst you at the seams. Like a butterfly with clipped wings, a scorpion without its stinger. He was tempting, but beautifully broken.

        I know. I just know.

        “When you came over, I thought you were going to confront me on how I haven’t kept my eyes off you all night,” you murmured. You met his gaze evenly, ignoring your pounding heart and fluctuating nerves.

        Regulus froze immediately. “What?”

        “Oh, did you not notice? Silly me,” you said, flaPping a hand like it never mattered in the first place. Truth was, your thoughts were frozen and fixated on his ignorance—ignorance you had just given a reality check. There had been no point, absolutely no hidden objective, in admitting your inability to overlook Regulus. Yet you had—and now he was staring at you like you had turned the color orange and horns magically sprouted from your head.

        Then, like a switch went off that had full control over Regulus’s emotions and the way he expressed them, he smirked. It wasn’t a full smirk, just apparent enough you noticed it. All the tension contorting his face flattened, leaving him like he was relaxed, the opposite of how he looked mere seconds ago. Always the skeptic, you stared at him with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing him from head to toe. He didn’t lose the smirk, his arms crossing over his sleek robes in a devil-may-care fashion.

        “Presumptuous of you to think I ever notice you in the first place,” he said, in that pompous voice you were used to hearing from Sirius’s favorite Slytherin, Severus Snape.

        You laughed at his audacity and, hearing the music change tone and tempo, reached out a hand. You forgot your wit and lost all possible responses to give his arrogant retort. “Dance with me, Black,” you said softly, “before your brother comes to ruin my night, like the prick he is.”

        Regulus raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t deny you. He interlaced his fingers into yours and his free arm, moving at whim and ease, came quickly to your side, enveloping your waist in a delicate embrace. A formal embrace that bespoke of the distance between you, the invisible rift. The dance he swept you in was unfamiliar, but it was simple enough that you could match his pace without tumbling over your own feet.

        You felt everyone staring, but nothing mattered more to you than the feeling of his hand on your waist and the deep, unreadable waters of his foggy gray eyes. He was an enigma that swept coast to coast, tainting the sand with his attendance but leaving wild imaginations to run rampant wondering why he was there, what he did, who he was. Everyone knew of him, but no one knew him. You couldn’t deny you also didn’t know him. Really, you knew nothing about him except that he was a Slytherin in your year, the younger brother to Gryffindor’s infamous playboy, and a supposed Pureblood extremist. You were curious, though, and wanted to know all the dismissive facts that made up his mind and crafted a mental narrative even you found ambiguous. He had consciousness, and there was no way in Merlin’s sodding Hell he was a host to someone else’s thoughts, opinions, and interests the way so many other future killers seemed. Every now and then he showed you something unusual—a mannerism individual to him, words you recoiled back at hearing from his mouth. After he smirked at you and accepted your demand to dance, you lost yourself in the shock of his dismal composure cracking at the folds.

        You never really believed in love.

-

        Regulus never really believed in love.

-

        But if you wandered too far into the bittersweet fantasy of happy endings…

-

        Regulus could get lost.

-

        The song changed again; slow and calm it became. Pressing your cheek to Regulus’s chest, you let the soft fabric of his dress robes sway you into an admittedly false sense of security. The hawk eyes following your every move disappeared with every cyclic step Regulus took. You were hypersensitive to his heartbeat now. It pounded against your cheek like a drumstick, a vibrato of epic proportions. You felt delirious with delight, yet a piece of you was stuck to the path your half-conscious feet made through the slow dance. It’s like you left a trail, and you’d have to pick up the pieces once Regulus became sick of your pathetic antics.

        “Are you asleep?” he asked amusedly, his chest vibrating against you. It rattled you enough to awaken some semblance of nerves.

        “No,” you said, shaking yourself out of the daze. You pulled back from him, bridging enough space to look him in his eyes. He had beautiful eyes a silly girl like you could get lost in. Any girl really. They were pools of fog made of spring mornings and forest hues. You just wanted to kiss his eyelids. What a strange desire, but you felt it all the same…

        Regulus blinked and you were drawn back in the moment. He had said something.

        You hummed in question, your eyebrows raising.

        He shook his head, his face flattening until it was expressionless. “I have to go,” he said. You knew what lies looked like. He was a good liar, but you were a better observer. “I have a matter to discuss with Slughorn.”

        You laughed. “That’s too bad,” you said, voice coming out like a purr. Your hand rose until it settled on his chest; your fingers curled around his robe, until fabric was fisted and cupped into a swirl. “We could have had some fun.”

        “No,” Regulus said firmly. Almost too firmly. His hand jerked up to meet yours and his larger fingers interlaced yours, tugging in an attempt to prompt your release. Your refused to let go. “Y/N.”

        “I like it when you talk all authoritative,” you said teasingly.

        His face blanched and it was enough of a shock to make him lose all incentive to fight the good fight. You took this chance and drew him in, his feet stumbling in a clumsy attempt to regain balance. “Y/N, I—”

        “What are you so afraid of?”

-

        Regulus was afraid of a lot of things. He was afraid of what his parents would do if they figured out he didn’t despise tainted blood the way he was raised to. He was afraid of his peers shunning and scorning him for being caught dead with a Half-blood. He was afraid of losing himself in the moment just to sate his deadened hope and watching you get killed in the crossfire of his foolish, self-indulgent mistakes. He was afraid of many things.

        He would never dare utter those fears aloud.

-

        You watched the conflict flit across his face, erasing itself seconds after.

        “What?” you innocently asked, noting that he had gone stiff. You were unaware to how deep his issues ran. You knew from Sirius’s running mouth that Pureblood households were devoid of tender moments and affectionate caresses. You wanted to imagine an alternative for them, but Sirius was a hellish hailstorm when honest; his feelings were subjective, but his experience was likely to ring alarmingly true. Regulus was quiet and allowed things to fester, so no one would ever know how he felt.

        He looked at you now, a lock where his mouth was. No key in sight. His eyes were piercing and unquestionably inscrutable.

-

        He had to leave before he lost control of his mouth. He couldn’t afford to involve you in his mess. He was a hurricane and you were summer rains. He would destroy you.

-

        “I have somewhere to be,” Regulus said, no room left for an argument. His arms disappeared from around your waist and he tore his eyes away, like it was physically painful to do so.

        You grabbed his wrist before he could melt into the dancing crowd. “Regulus, wait,” you said. You hated the way you sounded. You didn’t know him, but you felt strongly anyway, like he mattered more to you than was plausible for a girl and boy from two separate worlds. You couldn’t explain why you cared; you just did. He hid himself under the pretense of a rich, spoiled Pureblood who stood above the rest. He was hypnotically beautiful and bathed in greens and silvers. He was brilliant in ways Gryffindor House could only aspire to be.

        Regulus didn’t respond to your plea. He stared at you, waiting briefly to hear what you had to say.

        You didn’t have anything to say. You had something to express—and words weren’t always the best at expression.

        You reached up to his face and palmed his cheeks, finding little skin and mostly bone. His cheekbones jerked underneath your grip. His eyes went slightly wide, like he disbelieved you had taken physical initiative with him. Your fingers didn’t dig or tear at his skin, nor did you impulsively decide that you had him in your grip and now was the time to hurt him. You didn’t want to hurt him. You wanted to show him that he didn’t have to be risk-aversive; he could fall clumsily into risk with you and the two of you would make it work. As long as he felt this bizarre, unnatural connection same as you did.

        You’d find out.

        You pressed yourself flush against him and drew your lips until you were a breath away. Then you kissed him.

        The room and its occupants disintegrated, leaving only Regulus and you. Regulus dissolved into putty. His arms went around you again, one of them circling your waist entirely and a hand gripping your hip tight like letting you go would mean you never came back. His lips were soft if slightly chapped, moving against yours like they belonged there; there was no hesitation, no anxious energy. Regulus had lost himself in the moment, same as you. He wasn’t a Pureblood and you weren’t some Half-blood Gryffindor who had spent half the night pinning after a Slytherin who would keel over dead before wanting you. Regulus was different, and you hadn’t failed to sense it.

-

        Regulus abruptly remembered his place and pulled from you. Your eyes were still fluttered shut, and it took several seconds before you noticed he was no longer wrestling with your lips.

        You stared. Regulus wiped all emotion from his face, refusing to let you know he wanted a second kiss. You were not a good deceiver and every emotion you felt showed on your face, from confusion to lust to apprehension.

        “That should not have happened,” Regulus murmured, glancing around. There were people staring; even some of your Gryffindor friends, like Lily Evans and Marlene Mckinnon, were aghast, eyeing the two of you like you had just committed a murder.

        “Why?” you said confrontationally. “Did you regret it?”

        Regulus glanced at you but didn’t say a word.

        You could feel your heart plummet to your gut. “Yeah, okay,” you said, shaking your head. You knew he was being dishonest, but that didn’t stop you from feeling hurt at his blatant favoring of his reputation over a chance at this… this relationship. You jerked out of his slackened grip.

      You fought tears as you walked away.

-

        Regulus watched you go.

        He knew what it felt like when towers crumbled and empires fell, as it happened frequently. His life fell apart more than it came together. He missed you the moment you left but he knew this was for the better. That kiss had meant more than Regulus would ever admit. He felt the connection and he knew there was a future that would happen if he allowed it, if he chose not to intervene. He was the inhibitor of a lot of good things, but he would rather see himself drown than another person swallow their breath underwater.

        So he stared at your retreating back, wishing things were different.

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