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cinnamon-girl-writes · 2 months

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mastermind ✧ ‧˚₊ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧

Getting assigned your first case after getting accepted into law school is exciting-- unless you're paired up with your least favorite person and rival, Hiromi Higuruma.

academic rivals to lovers, no curses au ₊ ⊹˚✧

by @cinnamon-girl-writes

You didn't hate any of your peers.

Your lab partner was always pleasant. The group of girls that always sat in front of you was friendly enough. Even the guy that always asked you for a pen wasn't too bad. And then there was Hiromi Higuruma.

You had never met a person more infuriating. His aloof personality coupled with his seeming desire to always outdo you in every test and every case drove you insane. It was in his casual nonchalance and natural aura of intelligence. You could hardly show up to class without thinking about outshine him that day. Is he prepared? You've written your entire case report. What would he wear? You would dress nicer. Where would he sit? Would you be able to see him from there?

Today was a special day. You had been given your first ever case to apprentice as a law student. You had studied your case files all night and you flipped through the pages as you entered your classroom, choosing a seat near the front. As you sat, you smoothed out your skirt and ran your hands over your legs. For some reason, you were unusually nervous for the lecture to start.

Your professor entered the class a few minutes later, carrying a stack of papers. You leaned in eagerly, wanting to get more information on your case study.

The man set the papers on his desk, coming forward to the class and speaking, "Due to unforseen circumstances, you will now have assigned parters for this project." Partners? Okay, this couldn't be too bad. At least you'd have some help if the workload was too much.

He began calling the names of groups and one by one, they'd walk up to the front of the class and recieve their packets. In your head, you counted down how many people had gotten their groups already. You were starting to panic when you realized most of the people you know had already been paired up. Hopefully you'd be with someone competent at the very least.

"Y/n L/n and Hiromi Higuruma."

You freeze in your seat. Seriously? Out of all the people in this class, you had to be paired up with your least favorite?

Lost in your stupor, you didn't notice Hiromi walking down the aisle to the front. You mentally scolded yourself for letting him be more on top of things than you.

You followed him to recieve your respective packets. You noticed the way he thankde the professor cordially, making sure to do so as well. Again, you followed him back up the stairs to your seat. God, this is going to be awful.

When everyone had been partnered up and had returned to their seats, your professor explained a little more about the project. "I hope this change of plans won't be too much of a burden. Your partners were chosen based on similar GPA's and test scores, so you should be matching on intellectual levels."

Of course, that's why you were placed with him. You knew for a fact that you had the two highest ranks in your class, mostly because you were always struggling to keep your lead.

For the rest of class, you couldn't think about anything except him. You almost fell out of your seat when everyone started getting up to leave, surprised that the class was over already.

As you're getting your bags together, you feel someone walk up to you. "Hello, I'm sorry we didn't get to talk earlier . . ."

Turning around, you come face to face with Hiromi. You greet him and finish gathering your things, starting to walk out the building with him trailing beside you.

"I'm very interested in our client's case. Have you studied your files yet?" he asks.

"Yeah, I read them all last night. But hopefully this new information will give us a little more insight," you say.

He nods, "I agree. Are you free for coffee sometime? To look over the case together."

You're a little surprised. After all, you would have plenty of time during study hall and probably some time after lectures. "Sure, sounds good to me."

He sports a small smile, "Tomorrow, 9 o'clock?"

You agree, and soon you make your way down the sidewalk together to where your paths diverge.

"Oh, and Y/n." You look up, and he looks at intently. "I hope there's no bad blood between us."

You straighten a bit, offering him a hand. "Of course."

He accepts your handshake, and you notice his grip. It's firm and his hand is warm and soft. You feel a little disappointed when he takes it back.

You quickly exchange phone numbers before saying your farewells and going your separate ways on campus. As you head back to your dorm, you can't shake the thoughts of everything that had happened that morning: how kind he was. The feeling of his hand in yours.

This was going to be a long few days.

The next morning, you were leaving your dorm at 8:30 am on the dot. In all honesty, you were really looking forward to your coffee this morning.

The air was cold and crisp, and you felt leaves being crunched under your shoes. As you walked, it dawned on you that there was now only two days until the hearing. You'd have to spend more time with Higuruma than you anticipated.

Eventually, you entered the quaint cafe that Higuruma had invited you to. You liked it here, with it's large windows that let in plenty of sunlight and homemade coffee. You wonder if Hiromi likes it here too.

Seeing him wave, you walk over to the table he's seated at. The contents of his case file are currently spread across the table in what appears to be a methodical order. You examine the notes he has written down, comparing them to your own.

The rest of your meeting goes well. After getting your coffee, you continue to compare notes and discuss the case.

After a few moments of silence, each of you reviewing your own work, you asked, "Hiromi?"

He looked up from his notes, humming to signal his attention.

"Do you think we can really win this case?" you asked. "I mean, there's enough of evidence to convict, but this is the first time either of us have done this. I can't help but think . . ." you trailed off.

He set his papers down, taking one of your hands in his. "It's going to be okay, Y/n. You're capable, I know you are."

You felt your cheeks warm. "Thank you. I just really want to do well."

"I know," he says with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

— The day of the trial was finally here. You shuffled your files nervously as you made your way into the courtroom and sat down at the prosecutor's counsel table. You layed your files out in front of you in the same way you had seen Hiromi do at the cafe. You chided yourself for imitating him, but you had to admit, you did look up to him.

Speaking of the devil, a few moments later, he joined you at the table, his dark hair neatly combed back and his clothes elegantly pressed. Watching him from the corner of your eye, you envied how calm and collected he looked. Sure, you can study all you want, but natural skill is just as valuable as the all-nighters you pulled.

You look over at the defendant's lawyer and think maybe you're in over your head. A large, burly man sits at the table, reviewing his files with a self-assured look.

Hiromi set his files on the table next to where yours were spread out. "Good morning, Miss Y/n."

You nodded politely, "Good morning."

He sat, flipping through his case files. "You look lovely this morning."

You uttered a small thanks, fighting to keep the blush from your cheeks and hoped you were wearing enough makeup to conceal it.

Sooner than expected, the judge made her way into the courtroom and the session had began. Since neither of you were technically lawyers yet, you had a mentor there to take care of the logistics of the courtroom.

The judge, an older woman with spiky brown hair, announced to the jury, "Mr. Sato has been accused of embezzling funds from LSA Real Estate Company." She goes on to state that the accused has pleaded not guilty at his preliminary trial, which is why this session is taking place.

She announces that it's time for the prosecutor to make their opening statement. Higuruma stands, as it was agreed upon that he would take this job. His claim is short and precise, unlike some of the drawn-out opening statements you've heard, and he delivers his words with confidence and conviction. You're astonished by how good he is at this. You felt like you've been pacing the floor since you were assigned this case a week ago.

When he sits, you call the witness to the stand. She takes her oath, swearing to tell the whole truth, and begins her testimony. She claims that she's seen the defendant purposefully transferring money from the company's account to his own under his work title. You know what she's saying is true because you've got the security camera images in front of you and you shared a copy of them with the judge before the trial began. When she's done talking, the judge asks if you have any more witnesses, which you don't. She then instructs you to make your closing argument.

With shaking hands, you stand and smooth out your skirt. But before you could move to the front of the table, you felt a hand grasp yours and give yours a reassuring squeeze. Hiromi. You knew it was his before you looked down because of the way his hand felt the other day and the day before that. You're a bit embarrased that you remembered the feeling, but before you have a chance to react, you're in front of the jury.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we've provided ample evidence as to why the defendant is guilty. He has been proven by the witness to have embezzled funds from his company. I trust that you'll make the right decision in the name of justice." With that, you're taking your seat next to Hiromi. You want to thank him somehow for his reassurment, but you feel that now isn't the appropriate time.

The defendant's lawyer stands and makes his closing argument. It's good, you have to admit it. It seems like it's going to be a close call.

As he finishes, the jury exits the room and begins their deliberations. You want to say something, to reach out to Hiromi, but the room is nearly silent and the jurors could come in at any minute, so you decided against it. You don't look over at him, instead opting to scan your files one last time, but you can sense him becoming more and more anxious to hear the results.

Tensions in the room were rising when the jurors finally come back into the courtroom. At this point, the verdict has aready been decided, and you're anxious to hear it.

The judge picks up the verdict written by the jury and reads it aloud. You're on the edge of your seat as she says, "Mr. Sato has been found guilty of embezzlement against LSA Real Estate Company."

You'd done it, you'd won the trial! Although you wanted to celebrate, it would be improper to do so at the moment, but you risked sneaking a glance at Hiromi. He had a silently triumphant look on his face which you relished in. You'd done it, and though it was against your pride to say so, you'd done it together.

The verdict is announced; he'll serve six years in federal prison.

The session was adjourned. The defendant, now in custody, was being led out of the building. As you gathered your things to leave, you started to think anxiously.

You realized you didn't want this to be the end. You wanted to spend more time with Hiromi. You wanted to study with him and talk to him and hold his hand again. You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

The court made their way out of the room, filing one by one into the lobby. You got outside as soon as possible, deciding you needed some fresh air.

As you walked outside and started down the cobblestone steps, you hear someone burst out of the courtroom doors.

“Y/n!”

Higuruma appears behind you, his files in a messy pile in his arms.

“You never said goodbye,” he explains. “Aren’t you happy we won the case?”

You look up at him, feeling a little sad. And then you were embarrassed that you were sad, because you hardly knew him and you were supposed to hate him.

“Yeah, sorry. I just figured you’d want to leave soon,” you say.

His face falls a little. “No, I wanted to talk to you. About the case.”

You faltered. Did he want to talk to you about something else?

“Plus, I didnt want to leave you just yet,” he says.

"Oh . . ." you trail off. What does he mean? "Okay. Is there something about the case you wanted to ask? Or can it wait for some other time?"

He held his eye contact. "No, it's not about the case." You waited for him to explain. What was this all about? Was there a problem?

“I . . . I really like you, Y/n. You’re dedicated and intelligent and I want to spend more time with you.”

You step back slightly, which causes you to nearly topple over, forgetting you were on the stairs. It's Hiromi's arm that catches you just in time, looping around your waist as his other arm grabs onto the rail for stability.

He's alarmingly close now, so close that you can feel his nose touching your own.

"Y/n, are you okay-"

"Kiss me," you say, "Kiss me, Hiromi."

And he does; he leans in even closer until his lips are flush against your own. It's hot and it's intimate and you're sure there are people watching you right now but you don't care. The kiss deepens and you taste him, golden honey and mint and things you can't name but want to memorize.

All too soon, he pulls away. He helps you down to the sidewalk with his hand still on your waist. He kisses you again, but this time it's slower, more intentional.

You share many kisses that day, and even more that night. You share kisses for the rest of the semester, and the rest of the year.

Needless to say, you're growing more and more fond of Hiromi Higuruma.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #higuruma hiromi #higuruma Hiromi x reader #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #hiromi higuruma #hiromi jjk #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma smut

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jasonsknight3 · 7 months

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Finally got this out! Turns out it will be a two parter! I mean unless y’all want more or I think of something else. Enjoy part one!

Zombie apocalypse

Jason Todd x reader

Part one

Over a year, it’s been over a year since it began. It took about 24 hours of screaming, panic, choking, and pain for it to spread like wildfire, it took a couple days for the screams to turn into quiet gurgling sounds. All it took was one week for the majority of humanity to turn. Not sure how it started, but this wasn’t like the movies. Not in the slightest. These “zombies” weren’t rotting, they weren’t falling apart, they weren’t slow, they didn’t eat flesh, some only bite for the purpose of spreading the disease. Some give the kiss of death erasing what humanity you had. The mindless creatures were pale green with irritated red under their eyes, some had thick vines creeping painfully out of the mouth, nose, eyes, or all three. A truly horrific sight.

“Unsure meetings”

Running through the trashed streets of Gotham you panic. Your warm breath being seen in the winter gray air. Hoots and hollers getting closer behind you. Your legs feel number and number by the minute. How long have you been running? How far could the adrenaline take you? You felt yourself slowing down. Up ahead were boxes, barrels, and stakes made of different materials. A normal thing to see in the streets these days. However, usually these places were abandoned. You wished you could get rid of these guys on the stakes but they were human. Somewhat smarter than the mindless creatures. “Come on pretty lady! We just wanna talk!” One of them cooed loudly while others laughed and encouraged. Zipping between barrels and other things you make your way. A scream cut through the air making you look back. You see one of the guys bleeding, nails embedded in his face and whole left side. It was a sucking sight, torn flesh, the nails contorting his face. The other men were trying to console him, stupidly pulling the nails out of his face. Looking back was your worst possible mistake. Your ankle caught some thick rope making you fall. It was so quick the sound of crunching didn’t even seem real. Your eyes watered, heart pounding, your arm felt…numb. Swallowing the fear you turn your head to a horrific sight that makes you shriek in horror. The pain was extreme as it all suddenly came rushing to you. Bloods leaked from your bear trapped arm. Unfortunately the group of men hadn’t forgotten about you. They all started approaching.

In a hurry you tried prying off the bear trap to no avail. After all, bear traps required two hands instead of one. “Well well well, looks like our little lady got stuck.” One of them taunted. “Well, looks like we don’t have to catch er’ now.” Another said laughing. Quickly you pulled out your knife pointing it at them. You hated that you shook. They could see the fear. “Oh sweetie. No need for that, let just say we’re a couple of guys that need a- a little affection.” In response you cursed at them. “Back off!” You yelled. “No need for that little lady.” One of them kicks the bear trap causing you to drop the knife and shriek in pain. In a single moment they had you pinned to the ground, your face on the cold dirty asphalt. You scream at them, and cry desperately for help. The men talked among themselves. “It’s not like she needs both. We could just cut it off.” Another interjected “we could just take off the bear trap dummy.” Another one huffed “but if we cut her hand off she’ll be less of a fighter.” They all agreed your eyes watered as you pleaded. “Pl-please don’t!” They only laughed. The one on top of you pulled out a knife. “This might hurt little lady.” You squeeze your eyes shut, the blade touches your skin but nothing more. A weird silence followed. Something warm dripped on your face. Opening your eyes you see the man above you. Red leaking from his throat. A blade covered in blood stabbed through his jugular. The man gurgled but was quickly thrown to the side taking the wait off of you. “Walter!” One of the men screamed. “You gonna pay for that!” Trying to get away from the commotion you crawl away as far as you could and sit up. Just before you was a bloody scene. A larger man was in a bloody battle with these guys. Blood was everywhere. Using skill and accuracy he sliced and stabbed to kill. They got a few hits on him but it did little to nothing. Within a few moments of agonized screams the winter air fell quiet. Zombies you could handle, this- this was true horror. Living in Gotham before all this was pretty dangerous but this was one of the most violent things you had seen personally.

You attention strayed away from the dead bodies to the approaching figure. “No- please! Don’t hurt me! I- I’ll leave! I swear!” You plead. The man crouched down. “Stop.” He demanded abruptly. Being quiet you take note of a few things. This huge man was wearing plated armor that had some sort of red symbol on the Breast plates, wearing a brown leather jacket over it, he had some waist holsters obviously for guns and a knife sheath. Leaning down you could see he wore a red handkerchief over the bottom of his face. his eyes. One green the other blue Strangely soft and a scar between his thick eyebrows. He took a hold of the bear trap. “Hold your breath.” He ordered and you comply. The sound of straining metal claws was a relief and painful. The exhale was sharp and the inhale quick. The man put a hand over you mouth muffling the screams of agony. The trap clamping on hurt just as much as coming off. Tears streamed down wetting you flushed cheeks. “You’re alright. You’ll be fine. Come on.” Taking a hold of your upper back the stranger lifted you up and started taking you to a building. He looked around aware the sound of the infected getting worked up. “Need to get off the street.” He said aloud more to himself than you. “I’ll take care you.” He assured you.

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bellamyblakru · 1 year

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✨merlin rewatch 2023✨

okay, with the way ive planned it, we can get the whole thing done right before the start of @merthurweek2023 !!!

here’s the deal: one episode every five days, unless it’s a two parter, then it’s both episodes within those five days. under the cut is the schedule i made. you can save them if you want to♥️

you can watch with the schedule, you can join for a few random weeks, you can pick and choose which episodes you want to watch or make a creation for—all up to you!!

(you can join my discord server, too, if you want to watch when others do & we can talk about it)

no rules. no stress. just a simple merlin rewatch in the year 2023🫡

the event: you can just watch along with us, or you can participate in this low-stake challenge opportunity that i made. either way is perfectly fine!! i had a few ideas, but these are just a few possibilities. the creative liberty is all yours, and you can do what you want to. just tag it with #merlinwatch2023 so i can see, reblog, and love on it pls

the challenge:

for gifmakers,

a gifset an episode (what i am personally doing. it’s gonna be hard but ill try)

a gifset every few eps posted during our collective watch time

a gifset after we finish a season as an ode to what we watched

for writers,

a coda to the episode during it’s watch time

a divergence au that follows after the episode

a fix-it of what you wished happened during the episode

for watchers,

a post about your feelings/thoughts during the episode

possible meta about what something could’ve meant

a possible fic idea that you want to suggest to the world

for artists and video makers,

for the schedule below, i used color coding for each season! you could explore an idea you had during an episode with the color of the season

any relationship between characters that you wished you saw more of during an ep/season

anything you want to capture in your style from what we’ve watched

#merlinwatch2023 #bbc merlin #bbcm #merlin #alielook #xuserann #userdorksinlove #merlin event #merlinfests #merlin fest #signal boost #merlin bbc #long post

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fe-fictions · 1 year

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I am just OBSESSED WITH DIAMANT, KAGETSU AND ALFRED !!! Would you mind writing your morning after stories for them pls ? Or at least one of them, the one you prefer ! Have a nice evening ! :)

(WE ARE STARTING OUR FE ENGAGE STORIES WITH A BIG THREE PARTER!! ENJOY!!)

Alfred: For the golden retriever prince, waking up beside you is something that is jarring and enthralling. He’s practically over the moon, recounting the previous night’s events.

The whirlwind wedding, the joy on all your friends’ faces, and most importantly, the adoration that mirrored in your eyes just as poignantly as it did in his.

It was a magical day from start to finish, but the prince was far happier when he woke up and found you sound asleep beside him. He was practically shocked by it.

To think that he had actually married you. He confessed to you, you told him you loved him too, and…and how here you were…it made him start to freak out.

But it was a freak out in a good way. At least, that’s what he thought. Alfred smiled to himself, giddy and completely unsure of what he was going to do next. He reached out, brushing his fingers along your cheek, unable to fight the joy that swelled in his chest.

It was real…you were wearing his ring, he had the Pact Ring glittering on his finger, and you looked so, so cute when you were sleeping! He just wasn’t sure what he was going to do with himself.

He worries about waking you up, but then he remembers that it’s the Somniel; it’s rare you’d wake up on your own unless someone came in to rouse you with a loud but tasteful announcement.

Then he remembered that someone wakes you up every day.

Alfred, being the dutiful (new) husband that he is, quickly slips from the bed, wraps a sheet around his waist, and hurries to the doors to make sure they’re locked.

After all, it would be awfully inappropriate for the Divine Dragon to be seen so very, very exposed….and he wasn’t sure h ewanted any of his comrades to see him in such a state, either.

Satisfied that the door was firmly locked, Alfred nods to himself and turns on his heel to return to you.

At least, until he looks back at his new wife and discovers that you are awake and rubbing at your eyes.

“Oh, no!” Alfred eeks out, “You’re supposed to be sleeping!”

“You got out of bed.” You yawned, propped up on your elbow. Alfred’s shoulders drop and he returns to bed, falling face first onto the mattress by your legs.

“I was trying to make sure that nobody would come to wake you up, like usual!”

“Well, considering what day it was yesterday…I don’t think any of them would be silly enough to try.” You smiled softly, petting your sweet husband’s soft, blonde hair. “Maybe Clanne and Framme…Vander, even…but they’d figure it out pretty quick.”

“I-I know.” He blushed, peeking up at you, “I just…wanted to make sure! I’d be beside myself if somebody came in and saw you like this.”

“But you wouldn’t mind if they saw you?” You quirked an eyebrow, teasing. Quickly he pulled himself up on the bed, scrambling to correct himself.

“No, no, not at all!! I just meant that…I mean, you’re the Divine Dragon!! I’m a prince, sure, but you’re the Divine Dragon!”

“When it’s just the two of us, though…I’m just Alear.” You reminded him softly, “You’re not going to refer to me by that title all the time, are you? Even when we’re alone?”

Alfred buried his face in his hands. “This is not how I saw our first morning together going.”

You laughed, pulling him into your arms. As if he wasn’t already blushing enough; it was a different situation entirely when wrapped in the open (naked) embrace of his loving wife.

“No? It’s precisely how I saw it going.”

“That’s because you take great joy in messing with me.” He said with a sharp sigh, though there was no malice detectable. He instead relaxed in your embrace, resting his head against your chest.

“I guess I do tease you a little too much, huh?” You mused softly, “Should I go easy on you, today?”

“Maybe not the whole day. I doubt you could hold back that long!” He joked, relaxing in your arms as you laced your fingers into his hair, playing with the soft strands.

“You’re awfully gracious, Alfred. But I’ll behave myself. If only for today.” You promised to him, and your morning continued in the hazy beams of morning light, the beginning of your new life together starting off just as you both hoped (though with a little more messing around than expected).

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Diamant: He is staring at you with a reverent fondness, drinking in every single detail. You, in kind, were privy to this when you first woke, though your eyes had remained closed for a long while.

It was strange to find him so conemplative, but it was clear that the adoration he held in his heart for you was unmatched.

The Pact Ring glimmered on his finger, adorned upon the hand that now held yours, linked together tightly in the soft light of dawn.

He is practically beaming at you; he is known for having the loudest laugh in the army, but among his closest family and loved ones, he is known for having the most precious of smiles.

The high prince of Brodia is a sight to behold, and one you haven’t been able to tear your eyes off of since the day you met. But ever since your wedding day nearly 24 hours earlier…well, let’s just say there’s nowhere you’d rather be looking.

“What are you thinking, Alear?”

“Me?” Your gaze flickers away from his, just for a moment. But quickly you return, albeit a little more shyly. “I just…nothing.”

“It must be something.” His finger hooks your chin, gently turning your attention fully back to his. “What’s going on in the great dragon’s mind?”

“Really, it’s…it’s nothing. I’m just…I was just thinking about how lucky I really am.”

At this, his eyebrows rose with great interest. “You’re the lucky one?”

“Of course I am…I mean, you’re the one who agreed to marry me.” You remind him, running a finger over the ring that glittered so handsomely on him.

Diamant shook his head, “If I recall correctly, I believe we proposed to each other. I’m not the only one with a ring on my finger.”

“Well, yes, but…you’re my husband now. I don’t think anyone else could ever be so lucky to call you their spouse.”

“And I could say the very same about you.” He countered, bringing your hand to his lips. You blushed at his sweet gesture, but it is no more intimate than the two of you lying there, quite bare beneath the thin sheets of the Divine Dragon’s bed.

“To think we have the rest of our lives together.” You sighed softly, snuggling into his side. Your hand fell to his chest, listening to the comforting thump of his heartbeat. “What are we going to do with ourselves?”

“I’m sure we’ll find plenty of ways to fill our time. Spending mornings like this is certainly an excellent start.”

You smiled up at him, earning a kiss on your forehead.

The morning was a sweet, joyous preview of what was to come. Only happiness awaited you, for the rest of your days.

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Kagetsu: He was practically beside himself with glee, the morning after your first night together. He had always deeply valued your friendship, but when it blossomed into something more…oh, it was exquisite. And the fact that you reciprocated his feelings made him feel like the luckiest, happiest man alive.

Kagetsu’s family could not attend your wedding, but you did endeavor to spend your honeymoon with them. The wedding ceremony was lavish and festive, a more than welcome celebration after the hells you’d all gone through during the war against your father.

But now…all was at peace, and you were bonded with your lover for a life of eternal happiness.

The wedding ended late that night, and Kagetsu was glad to escort you from the Somniel to his hometown. Prince Fogado graciously offered the swiftest of Solm’s pegasi, and before long, you and your new husband were arriving at his secluded home.

His family did not know you were both there yet, though. That was by design; you wanted to spend your precious first moments with Kagetsu alone. Just the two of you, for a little while.

The rest of the world would be able to greet you on your debut later. But for that night, and the morning that had followed, it was just yours and Kagetsu’s little world.

A beautiful world that had the handsome swordmaster with his hair down and tousled, spilling all about his face whil he snuggled up to you.

“So…are we going to take the morning off only? Or are we going to take the whole day before we tell anyone we’re here?” You asked your husband, breaking the dreamy silence of the inn.

Kagetsu hummed, feigning deep thought, all while he nuzzled into your chest, wrapping his arms around you. To think your new husband was so clingy; it was utterly adorable.

“Well, at first, I thought it would be best to greet them right away. But now that the morning has come…is it wrong that I wish to spend the day with you all to myself? Just the two of us. Perhaps with the hot spring bath attached to the room…and in the dining room. They have excellent onigiri that you simply must try, here!”

You laughed softly, petting Kagetsu’s fluffy hair as he blurted out his plans as they came. “So I’ll take that as a yes, we are taking the day for ourselves?”

“I think so, yes.” He lifted his head to grin at you, giving you a soft squeeze. “I do not wish to spend my time with anyone else, today. Just the two of us…husband and wife!”

“And hot spring…and onigiri.” You added, making him chuckle. Kagetsu rolled over so that you were lifted on top of him, holding you gently at your rather exposed waist.

“I wish for you to experience my home, while we have this time to ourselves. It is a very special thing, getting to welcome you into my traditions. I hope that you will enjoy them; and if you do, I am excited to see such special moments between the two of us.”

“My, what a sweet talker.” You shook your head, tapping your fingertips along his chest. You could feel his little heartbeat pick up when he met your sparkling eyes. “Then, shall we get up and start our day? There’s much to be done, it sounds like.”

His grip tightened, pausing the dancing of your fingers.

“Perhaps…we can wait a little longer. I would like to enjoy the closeness with my sweet wife a little longer.”

“Only a little?”

Kagetsu swallowed thickly, the blush quickly blossoming across his face when your mischievous grin reappeared from the night before.

“If the lady wishes, I suppose we could take longer than ‘a little’.”

“I do wish it,” You kiss him sweetly, which was all he needed. “I want to thoroughly enjoy you, Kagetsu.”

The romantic morning was the perfect start to the rest of your precious marriage to Kagetsu. Eventually you were able to drag him out of bed, where he could show you the luxurious wonder of the hot spring bath, and the delight that came with the delicious riceballs he was so obsessed with.

His family was thrilled to meet you once you were able to peel Kage away from the inn. His nervousness at introducing you to the family was quickly replaced by how proud he was of his dear, dragon wife.

They were quick to welcome you, and you were even quicker to enjoyhis family and all the new world they had to offer you.

Truly, the two of you could not possibly be happier.

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flowerwrites06 · 1 year

Text

lion and the fox VI — jjk

Plot: In a turbulent world of crime and intrigue, a fiery journalist makes an unlikely alliance with one of the country’s most notorious bosses. Pairing(s): Mafia Boss!Jungkook x Journalist!OC (Name: Belle) Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+ Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series Word Count: 2k+ Genre: Mafia AU | Vintage (1940′s vibes) AU Tags & Warnings: crime, violence, explicit sexual content, forced prostitution, mild scenes of harassment, some misogynistic behaviour, mentions of a war, heavy mentions of drug use, infidelity. Authors Note: hope you enjoy this new chapter! Disclaimer: Please note that while some historical research has been done for this story, the MAJORITY of it has been altered in some way with creative liberties to match the themes and motifs of the plot.

When the night darkened, Belle packed up her things at work and made her way into her car. Things had gotten quiet in the underground after the divorce. And her slip-up with Jungkook had her staying far away unless she was needed. Belle had no intentions of hiding what his father did to her family but it still felt wrong. Her skin felt raw and bruised. The worst part was it was easy to speak to him, be angry at him and show the ugly parts of her without needing poise or control.

She needed to fix that quickly.

Belle stopped at the door of her car. Everyone had already left and it was just her and Hoseok. Hoseok already stepped inside but Belle’s eyes flickered at movement near the curb.

“You okay?” Hoseok asked.

Belle didn’t answer. She saw people in a car. Spies, panic ensued.

But no. It was Hansuke. Usually he did stay back but always stuck in his office. His office had been locked. Supposedly to give the impression that he was busy working. Instead her boss sat in his car with a woman, her hair blonde and dress made from fine silk.

The face was familiar. Angel.

Hansuke was no innocent person. He spent all his years staying at Jungkook’s feet but this. . .this was not really obscene. Belle had probably done just as bad to actual families. No this was evidence. Evidence Seokjin could use against them. If Hansuke cavorted himself in brothels then his affiliation with Jungkook will be questioned. Jungkook will be questioned.

Belle climbed into the car in a rush as soon as Angel dipped her head between Hansuke’s legs.

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asked. “What did you see?”

“We might have a problem.”

Belle travelled to Cho No Su the next day, her thigh prickling from memory. Hoseok had been adamant on her painkillers and despite the frustration to just steal them, the dependence subsided with a lot more ease. Though now as she stood in the establishment where the attack happened, one painkiller wouldn’t have hurt.

She tried to go through similar motions of a customer. High in the daylight, there weren’t many people around. Belle made sure to look for the features as closely as possible and found Angel on the listing.

The receptionist made her wait. Then called her into a room.

Except amongst the silken mats and incense, it wasn’t Angel but a woman with orange hair and a golden black katana on the floor next to her. Kim Hyuna, the Madame. “I know you mean well but I can’t let you see Angel without some questions.”

Belle walked inside and sat at the floor table. “Go on.”

“My workers are not to be harmed in this cat and mouse chase of yours. If you are to get information from her, you guarantee her safety to me.” Hyuna gripped onto the hilt. “And I mean a clear guarantee.”

Belle nodded and pulled out a piece of paper. A plan written on it. “This is what’s going to happen.”

Hyuna looked confused for a moment. The writing was messy, created overnight but she knew it would work. As Hyuna read it, she seemed to think the same as her expression softened. Then she laughed. “You’d be a good Madame. Ever considered it?”

“I prefer journalism.”

Hyuna hummed with a smile and burned the paper to protect it. “Kim Namjoon.”

The name was familiar. Yet Belle had never dove into his background too deeply. He was a Korean boss who garnered his success in Shanghai and created his connections from there. But why him?

“You’ll find aide there for your. . .little predicament. He’s had history with Seokjin before. Bad history. Ripe for the picking.” Hyuna smirked before knocking on the door.

The door opened to Angel. “You get the usual hour.”

Angel smiled and perched in front of her as if Belle really were a real paying customer. “What did you need me to do, Ms. Sol?”

“Please, relax.” Belle gestured. “You have a history with the assassin who came here.”

Shock spread across Angel’s features. “Assassin?” So she did know him. But not fully, it seemed.

“I’m afraid so.” Belle nodded, giving an apologetic look. “He was responsible for the attacks that happened on your fellow workers.”

Angel took a deep breath. “Taehyung.” Her eyes began glossed with tears, fingers shaking. “I had a feeling something was wrong but—”

“We don’t always choose where we end up,” Belle said. The bruised truth behind it cut through her a little too deeply. What would her father say if he saw her working with Jungkook? Feeling things for him?

Angel’s expression softened and nodded in understanding. “What can I do to help?”

Belle leaned forward, pushing the tar-like dread that filled her chest. “Listen to me very carefully. We can’t have any mistakes.”

Angel saw Taehyung in his old home. The run-down ancient thing plastered with so many memories deep at the outskirts where nature had consumed it. It was their old house for a while. A small time but lovely and beautiful. It was also the only location Holangi Pa would never recognize.

Angel dusted away some of the debris from the old kitchen counter. She saw the engraving made of their names. Her actual name. Anantheia. Their parents hadn’t always been in the underworld. They were regular people at one point but resorted to crimes and gangs to get by. Taehyung and Angel thought. Hoped. Maybe if they ran into this old run-down place and built a life, things would be okay.

But Japanese gangs were running amok in the whole country, scouring every inch to get rid of any Korean influence. As young people do, they took shelter in the largest wing they could find. Korean gangs that were still powerful enough to put their foot down. Angel found Kim Hyuna giving protection in her brothel while Taehyung had clearly chosen assassin work. It wasn’t pretty but it was survival.

Taehyung walked through the rickety door, pulling Angel out of her trance. His face twisted in fear. “What happened? Did someone find you out?”

Angel shook her head, padding closer to him. “I have a way for both of us to get out of here.”

Taehyung’s expression softened. A vision of the old Taeyhung peeking through. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Angel kept her voice low as if someone were to rip them away from this place at any moment. Delipidated but precious. “But you need to do something. They need information.”

Dark brows furrowed. “What kind of information?”

“On Holangi Pa. Their weak point, anything. If we get them that information, we can leave.”

“How can you guarantee this?” He asked.

“This person saved my life.” It took a while for Angel to fully realise but she would forever be grateful. It had been a while, not since Kim Hyuna, that someone valued her life. “They’re the reason you had to come back and—finish the job.” Her heart twisted.

“Theia. . .” Taehyung rubbed her arms. “If I’d known—”

“It’s okay.” Angel cupped his cheek. We don’t choose where we end up. “But they are here to help. I promise.”

Taehyung thought on it for a while. Eyes twisted and skin creased, battling his loyalty for the gang and what he wanted right here. In this moment. Then with a hardened expression, he spoke. “The teahouses. They’re his main source of income. It’s how he was able to get Akira’s family to agree to a marriage. If you weaken that part, it’s only a matter of time everything topples.”

Angel smiled. “We’ll meet here again later, okay?

“Be careful.” Taehyung traced his thumb across her chin, standing close. His hands shook from being gentle. Soft. But Angel didn’t pull away, nudging her nose against his. “I missed you.”

She leaned in to kiss him. It was the loveliest thing Taehyung experienced in years. The memory of her lips that had become so distant now burst into fresh bitten sweetness. This was worth the sacrifice.

“Teahouses,” Jungkook mused. They sat together in his office as the sunset blushed through the windows. “I suppose that makes sense.”

Belle still kept her posture professional, standing and wearing her yellow work dress with puffed sleeves that cinched at the wrists. Her arms crossed.

“Courtesans get paid thousands more than prostitutes. Not to mention the better reputation, easier to show off in high profile occasions.” Rosyne waved her hand, her deep berry lips pursed.

“Peace and Honey is one of the more popular establishments,” Belle said, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze and focusing on Rosyne. “Aside from the courtesans, teahouses have intense rules of etiquette and privacy. Enough to make any deal whatsoever.”

“Discretion is a form of a power,” Yoongi said, tapping his cigarette at the window sill.

“That’s all great but teahouses are painstakingly expensive,” Rosyne said. “We could buy off the indentures for the courtesans to undermine Seokjin’s income. But that needs finance from us. A lot of our finance came from Hebi Pa.”

“That’s why we need an alliance,” Belle said as she brought a thick file and quickly placed it on Jungkook’s desk. Her eyes only focused on the veins of his hands as she opened the pages to Namjoon’s general information.

She felt his gaze burn into her but thankfully, Jungkook focused on the title. “Are we that desperate?” He asked.

“So you don’t have a good history with Namjoon either?” Belle asked, looking over at Rosyne and Yoongi for confirmation.

“Namjoon isn’t a huge fan of Korean bosses who took Japanese allies,” Rosyne explained.

“His mother and aunts went through a lot of crap during the war.” Yoongi’s face turned grim and Belle didn’t ask further.

“He’s one of the most powerful Korean bosses that also has connections in Shanghai.” Belle stepped back from the file, letting Jungkook flipped through it with a defeated sigh. “Japanese allies are gonna be hard to find, this is the best we have.”

Jungkook tapped the file for a few moments before closing. “Fine.”

Belle nodded and taking the file back. “He’s coming in from Shanghai next week.”

“I’ll arrange a meeting with him,” Rosyne said.

Jungkook nodded as Belle handed Rosyne the files to get all affairs in order.

Rosyne and Yoongi seemed to leave the office much faster than Belle could get her things packed. It was a brief second. The smallest second that they were alone. And Jungkook noticed it like a hawk.

“Belle. . .” Jungkook kept his voice soft.

“We don’t need to talk about it.” Belle’s word cut harsh, hoping that it would force Jungkook not to be so sweet.

Jungkook stepped closer, his footsteps echoing against the wood until she could feel him at her back. “I don’t want us to leave our conversation at that.”

“You made a deal.” Belle grabbed her purse to her chest, pretending the room wasn’t warm and lovely with him this close. “I’m expecting you to keep to that deal. That’s all.”

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to be my friend,” Jungkook muttered. “But there is a part of me that wants something different.”

Belle should’ve left the room right there and then. Should’ve been angry. Should’ve thrown a drink. Something. But she stayed still. “I won’t be your whore.” It was the only response she could come up with.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Jungkook’s voice turned serious. “You’re not the only one who observes me closely.” He walked close.

His cologne suffused the air around Belle, turning her mad. Stop. Turn away. Belle’s chest rose and fell. Like a snap, Belle lurched for him, pulling for a kiss. Jungkook gripped onto her body, so tight and safe but desperate, yanking at the fabric of her dress.

Jungkook broke the kiss. Belle let out a small whimper from the lack of touch. Something Jungkook didn’t fail to notice as he smirked and grabbed onto her chin. They stared at each other, breathless. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, teasing and taunting. But Belle didn’t care. She wanted to be here, she wanted him to see every part of her.

Jungkook walked over to the door and locked it.

Belle smirked, reaching under her dress and clipping her panties down until they rolled to her ankle.

Jungkook walked over to her, fingers delicately gripping crumpled thin clothing and peeling it off her ankles. Belle tapped her feet up his torso, teasing the buttons of his shirt. Jungkook kissed up her legs, warm and gentle. He spent a longer time over the scar that formed on her thigh, placing the softest presses of his lips before they hovered over her core.

The way her skin tingled could’ve turned her to intoxication. Belle hated how relieving it felt to indulge in her own wants. How her thighs trembled when he placed the first kiss on her exposed core. Then devoured it. A desperate whimper left her lips, hand buried in his hair as he moved faster. Unflinching in giving her pleasure until Belle had no choice but let out a choked scream that shook the old wood of the estate.

Jungkook latched off her then, glistening lips stretched into a satisfied grin.

Belle unbuttoned his shirt as he lifted back onto his feet. Hands scoured the different tattoos peppered on his skin. One of a fox just at his lower belly. She let her fingers trail at the trousers hem.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asked, holding her face in his hands like she was something precious.

“So good.” Belle chuckled with a bliss. She unbuckled his belt, letting his member rest heavily on her palm. Just gently stroking until she heard a trembled sigh emit from his lips.

Jungkook gripped onto her hair, firm enough for a spark in her nerves. Lovely and delicious. He unbuttoned her dress, revealing her black bra. Rough hands caressed over her skin, kissed over the plumpness as Belle guided his length at her entrance. She heard Jungkook’s moans like music in her ear, hot breath down her chest as he slid into her.

Belle hadn’t realised how snug it felt. How long it had been. Except this time it wasn’t under the influence or to get information, it was her and him. Nothing to come between them, at least not now. Belle relished in that thought, biting into his neck as he fucked into her, deep and desperate. “You feel so good,” he whispered.

Belle chuckled softly interrupted by a moan as he moved deeper. “You feel good too.” Her voice became more breathless by the minute. She wanted to say so much more. How she hadn’t felt this good in years. Felt this full and delighted.

Jungkook moved relentlessly, shifting the table, scratching the wood. Belle dizzied at the friction against her clit. He could feel him twitch, panting as he reached his high. The furrow of his brows as he concentrated on rolling to the edge. His thumb rubbed over her clit, focusing as he sped to his climax.

Then a burst. Like sweetness filled her in both own pleasure and Jungkooks’. Belle’s knees melted, holding purely onto Jungkook’s grip as he stayed inside her, letting his seed drip onto the wood.

Jungkook carried her then, making her laugh as he placed both of them onto the couch. They cleaned themselves. Lay together, catching onto their breathing.

“Hansuke is a customer for Cho No Su.” Belle covered her lower half with a blanket.

“I think you’re a workaholic,” Jungkook said.

Belle laughed, patting his chest. “It’s just as good for you.”

Jungkook caressed her hair. “You could get him to pay you more.”

“I actually have a different idea. But I might need your—” Belle tapped her fingers on the fox tattoo. “—connections to get what I need done.”

Jungkook raised a brow. “Were you trying to seduce me into doing this?”

Belle smirked. “Yes, I’ve beguiled you into doing my dirty dealings. Is it working?”

Jungkook laughed. “Kind of.”

Belle leaned in and kissed him. Her face soft and intimate.

“You can come with me to Namjoon. It’d be good to have someone like you next to me.”

That was a big invitation. Belle had been used for missions but for a discussion with a big name like Namjoon. Being by his side like someone important. “Are you going to get me a new dress?” Belle tried to keep it light-hearted even though her heart felt as if it was embraced.

“So I am going to constantly buy you things.” Jungkook grinned.

Belle hummed, nodding with confidence. “I’m thinking a deep blue.”

@outrofenty | If you’d like to be added, please read the guide!

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mickyaltierisgf · 1 year

Note

I have a Romickey idea that has been rotting my brain and you do not need to write this but I’m gonna pitch it…and you can decide! So basically it takes place after scream 6 or somewhere around then… Reader is Randy’s sibling… 💕

Reader gets a call and it’s ghostface, but behind the voice it’s Mickey… reader and him dated in college and they haven’t seen him since the night he revealed himself in ‘97. Then the call ends, they are scared but reader goes about their day and another call happens, ghostface again, but this time it’s Roman. They dated during the events of scream 3, reader was still trying to get over Mickey but thought Roman was a good replacement. Reader then sees the two men and realises Mickey and Roman have paired together to try and win reader back and she ends up becoming a secret ghostface to seek justice for Randy… no idea if that is good or not but yeah! ☺️

It's been a while, but here it is anon. This will likely be a two parter. Kinda nsfw at the end. | mdni

poly!romickey x fem!reader

he'll appear out of nowhere

You looked through your closet, sorting through your clothes with a little huff. For some reason, none of them appealed to you, and you wondered if you’d make it in time to go shopping before your date tonight. You checked the time on your cellphone when a call suddenly came through, the ringtone startling you and causing you to drop it.

You cursed, checking the screen for damage and noticing the "Unknown" alert. You didn’t like answering calls unless they came from a name or number you could recognize, but ever since going into freelance work, you didn’t always have that luxury.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Y/N?"

You frowned a bit; the voice didn’t sound like anyone you knew, yet somehow it felt familiar to you.

"Yes. Who’s asking?"

"I missed you. Did you miss me?"

"I don’t even know who you are," you said flatly.

The still-unnamed voice laughed, and you wondered if they had caught your reference.

"You know me pretty well," they answered almost suggestively. "And you’ll get to know me even better soon."

"I’d rather..." you trailed off as the line went dead. "Not," you muttered belatedly.

You decided it was probably some stupid punk playing a prank. It happened every so often. Someone found your webpage, recognized your name, and decided they’d mess with you a bit. In the past, you’d had to change your number a couple of times. Nowadays, you just blocked and moved on.

You tossed your phone on the bed and continued to rummage through your closet. You should buy yourself a new purse and a pair of shoes, too. Might as well complete the look.

You tried to open the door with one hand while juggling your bags with the other. You had a few hours left before you were meant to meet your date. Your cellphone rang, and you dropped off the bags in your bedroom before fishing your phone out of the pocket of your jacket.

You eyed the "Unknown" with a bit of trepidation before answering with a tired "Hello?"

"Hello, Y/N."

"Gonna tell me who you are?" you ask, tugging your shoes off.

"Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise."

"Yeah, I guess I should let the police unmask you themselves," you respond, annoyed.

"They’d never catch me. Definitely not before I got to you."

"Gonna start threatening me now? Good. I kind of have plans for tonight," you mention, laying out your new outfit for later.

"I know, you had a date. I don’t think he’s going to make it," the voice says cryptically. Now you felt a chill run through you. "But don’t worry, you can still get all pretty for us."

"Yeah, well, sorry buddy, but I’m just not that into you," you say and hang up. You block the number and let out a breath.

It hadn’t been that long since there’d been an actual Ghostface attack, which made you worry that maybe this could be a real thing and not a prank like you’d suspected. Your niece and nephew had been mixed up in the last attack, and maybe that’s why this was happening again. Every time a Ghostface was brought down, a new one would rise to take its place. And you were, regrettably, intimately familiar with not one but two of the worst.

Mickey. Your first real love. You were as gone for him as Randy was for Sidney. No, you were worse. Because at least Randy had known the real Sid, just as he’d been able to see through to the real Mickey. But it wasn’t until the mask was lifted that you finally saw him yourself. And by then, it was too late. There was no saving Randy from him or his partner, Nancy Loomis, who had almost sent you to your own grave.

You and Sidney both dropped out of college after that. You were alone and miserable for a few years until you met Roman Bridger. You couldn’t explain what had attracted you to him so much. There was something about him that reminded you of Mickey. In truth, that should have been the first major red flag that turned you off of him. But instead, it only made you cling to him more.

That ended up just as bad as your first heartbreak. Learning that once again, you were just a means to an end. And then you were left to mourn your lost love, even knowing that the men you grieved for had never really loved you back.

You pushed the thoughts away forcefully. You had no reason to believe this wasn’t another lame attempt by some bored asshole to scare you. You weren’t going to hide away in your house. You had a date. You were going to go out and put this whole thing out of your mind.

You took a quick shower just to refresh, rubbed some scented lotion on your skin, and slipped on a silk robe. You blow-dried your hair and brushed it until it was gleaming. You pulled it away to work on your makeup, and once you were satisfied, you put on your new dress. You admired yourself in the mirror, loving the way the dress looked even more now than when you’d tried it on at the store.

You checked the time on your phone before tucking it in your new purse along with your wallet and your keys. You made sure all the lights were turned off on your way to the front door. You stepped out, and as you reached inside your purse for your keys, a hand came up to your mouth. You gasped, your eyes going wide as saucers, and tried to scream. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought you might have a stroke.

You dropped the purse and tried to fight off your unseen assailant, but they easily caught both your hands, and another hand flew to your mouth to stop you from shouting for help. You gasped again, seeing the eerie white mask looming close to your face. Your purse was kicked inside, and you were dragged back inside forcefully, trying in vain to reach for the door as it slammed shut.

"Don’t scream," the creepy voice behind the mask said.

"Not yet," the one behind you added.

The hand on your mouth fell away, and the killer restraining you loosened his grip, though he didn’t step away. The door was locked, and you were dragged into the living room, almost tripping over your own feet in your heels. Neither one of them seemed to be carrying a knife or any type of weapon, and maybe that made you feel a bit bold, so you reached up for the killer’s face and grabbed the mask. They jerked back as if surprised, but didn’t resist as you yanked the mask off.

Your hand shook, and the mask slipped out of your hand and onto the floor at your feet. "Mickey..." you whispered as your eyes rolled up into your head and you pitched backward. Mickey caught you swiftly, but you were already unconscious before he could lay you down.

You blinked your eyes open, Mickey’s face slowly coming into focus. He was tapping your cheek lightly, and he smiled at you as your eyes met. He was infuriatingly beautiful, just as he was the last night you saw him. He’d been manic, with wicked glee in his eyes and a maliscious grin stetching his lips in a wide smile, his teeth glinting white and sharp, and a gruseome gash spilling ruby blood down the side of his face. Even then, he still looked like the most beautiful creature you’d ever laid eyes on. And all these long years later, with a bit more stubble and a hint of gray at his temples, he was still the prettiest man you’d probably ever seen. Time had not diminished his beauty in the least.

Despite this, you still scrambled to sit up and scoot as far away from him as you could. You were seeing ghosts now. No, demons. Because Mickey had to be projecting his image to you from hell. Could demons do that?

"Am I dead?" You asked and looked at the other robed figure beside Mickey, who still hadn’t removed their mask. "Oh my God, is that Mrs. Loomis?"

"C’mon, Y/N, give me a little more credit than that. I wouldn’t team up with that crazy bitch again," Mickey replied.

"You’re not dead," the other Ghostface said, still in that artificial voice, as they finally pulled off their own mask.

"Of fucking course," you say, as Roman’s face is revealed.

He looked almost exactly as you remembered. His skin was maybe a little less smooth and a bit more tan, but that's all. He smiled a bit and your eyes were drawn to his lips. They looked plush and inviting and you wanted to reach out to test their softness. You wet your own lips but you held your hand firmly at your side and darted your eyes away. There wasn’t one visible flaw you could detect. He was still as 'ravishingly handsome' as you recalled the magazines describing him when you first met.

"Am I in hell?" you say, more to yourself than anyone else.

"You think we’re in hell?" Mickey asked, somehow sounding offended.

"Last time I checked, homicidal maniacs were supposed to go to hell when they died, yes," you informed.

"I’m not a homicidal maniac!" Roman immediately denied.

"You killed at least nine people! I’m pretty sure that’s more than anyone else who’s worn that ugly freak costume!" you accused.

"I killed a few people before I even became Ghostface," Mickey interjected unhelpfully.

You simply stared at him as Roman shook his head. Roman rose to his feet and extended a hand to you. You looked at it and at him, hesitating to accept his help. Suddenly, Mickey was standing and hauling you up. He picked you up easily, and you clung to him, gripping his arms, as you hadn’t expected to be yanked up so quickly like that.

"Put me down!" You insisted.

He plopped down on the couch, positioning you in his lap. You squirmed in his grip, but his arms locked around you, keeping you in place. Mickey seemed to nuzzle the side of your head, rubbing his cheek against your soft hair and inhaling the scent. The more you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, the more you unintentionally rubbed against his crotch. The little groan he let out next to your ear made you stop. Roman sat beside you, a gloved hand resting on your thigh. Your dress had ridden up and was barely covering your legs by this point. He stroked the inside of your leg, the material of his glove tickling you slightly.

"How are you alive?" You blurted because you still couldn’t reconcile how not one but two of your until recently assumed dead exes could be here in your house practically molesting you. "Mickey got shot at least 15 times. And I saw you die holding Sidney’s hand." You narrowed your eyes at Roman accusingly.

"Holding hands, huh?" Mickey spoke, matching your expression as he looked at Roman over your shoulder.

"She grabbed my hand!" Roman defended. "I was injured and outnumbered. They thought I was dead, and I let them believe it."

"You let me believe it too." You said darkly, trying to move your leg away from his touch. Roman frowned, but he didn’t let you go, still rubbing circles into your thigh as if trying to soothe you. "And you?" You barked, pinching Mickey wherever your hand could reach him.

"Their aim was shit. Sid and that bitch Gale shot the wall behind me more than they shot me."

"You went flying," you scoffed. "There’s no way they missed all those shots."

"But here I am. Alive..." He kissed your neck. "And well," he said suggestively, moving you just enough that you could feel how hard he was under you. You felt a pulse of heat go through your body, which only intensified when Roman’s hand moved higher, disappearing under your dress. He moved even closer to you, his full lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as you tried to turn your head away.

You avoided his gaze, and your eyes settled on the fireplace across the room. Specifically, the numerous picture frames of your family and especially Randy. You felt your anger and indignation flare up hotly again, and you snarled as you renewed your struggle so you could escape both their holds on you. But it was futile. They had you closed in, and they were too strong for you to force them to let you go. You thought to dig your heel into Mickey’s foot or Roman’s, whichever was easiest, but the shoes they wore were too heavy for that to hurt.

"What’s eating you now?" Mickey asked, and the slight edge of irritation in his tone had your blood boiling.

"My brother being dead, which is your fault!" you spat, furious.

"That wasn’t me, Y/N." Mickey said, a little condescendingly. "I wasn’t even there; that was Nancy. He wasn’t supposed to die; mommy dearest was trying to get Gale, not him. But Randy could never just keep his big mouth shut."

"Let me fucking go!" You all but yelled.

"Y/N, relax," Roman said authoritatively, grasping your chin in his hand. He gripped it tighter as he felt you try to jerk away. He pulled you into a forceful kiss, and you bit down on his lip. His eyes were black as he licked the blood and fed it to you through another kiss. His tongue tangled with yours, preventing you from trying to bite down again.

"I wouldn’t have killed him," Mickey spoke softly and almost apologetically to you. "I wouldn’t have done that to you," he assured, nuzzling you again. The words you wanted to say were muffled by Roman’s mouth still devouring yours. Even though you still tried to pull away, his hand moved from your chin to the back of your head, preventing you from breaking the kiss.

His other hand was touching you between your legs, rubbing against your underwear. One of Mickey’s hands slid up from your side to cup your breast and squeeze it in his palm. When Roman finally broke the kiss himself, you felt a bit dizzy from the deep kiss, the lack of oxygen, and the scalding heat engulfing your body.

Roman’s hand in your hair pulled your head back and to the side, making room for Mickey. He gazed at you with rich brown eyes, and you felt he’d caught you in a spell. He kissed you with equal fervor, which was almost enough to distract you from what Roman was doing until you felt him move your underwear aside. Instinctively, you tried to squeeze your legs together, as if to stop him from going any further. But you only managed to pin his hand between your legs, and you heard him chuckle lowly as he pressed a finger inside you.

Mickey was tugging at your dress, trying to squeeze your tits through your bra. You heard a tear, but you couldn’t make yourself care, and you just moaned into the kiss, the sound being swallowed by Mickey’s tongue.

tbc

#scream #ghostface #mickey altieri #roman bridger #ghostface x reader

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

Text

The Silver Dragon (41/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 8030

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: On the first day they have spent apart since they were wed, Aemond and Arianwyn fly far away from each other on missions for the new King.

Warnings: none, unless you count frat-boy-esque characters

Author's Note:

I'm back! And I'm so, SO sorry for the wait!!! Those few days I warned y'all about kind of turned into an impromptu hiatus! But, I hope that the veritable FEAST I'm about to give y'all will make up for it.

The story of what Aria and Aemond get up to on their respective missions was originally going to be just two, regular sized chapters (one for Aria, one of Aemond). But… it kinda turned into a monster as I was writing.

So, instead of two single-POV chapters, y'all are getting a three-parter! Both Aria and Aemond have roughly equal time in each, so you won't have to go without either of them. Today, I'm posting the first part. Part II will follow tomorrow, and part III the day after. Each chapter is longer than any that have come before it. This one is just over 8K, part II is a WHOPPING 18K, and part III should be coming in at around 10K…

Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

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Three Days, Part I

On the 23rd day in the ninth month, 136 years after Aegon’s conquest…

As she soared over the Westerosi countryside, Arianwyn found herself wishing that the Vale and the Eyrie were somehow further away so that she and Emrys could stay in the skies for even longer.

But there it was.

Just coming into view was a great expanse of sparkling blue-green water, bounded on either side by a patchwork of towering sandy dunes, salty marshlands, small fishing villages built entirely upon stilts, and a hundred small streams.

The Bay of Crabs. The border separating the Crownlands from the Vale – her adopted home from the place of her birth and the land of her ancestors.

Some small part of her that still yearned for adventure and unrestricted freedom urged her to turn Emrys from his path. If she turned east, it would only take a few hours to reach Essos. If she followed the water to the west, she would find herself at the mouth of the Trident in the Riverlands.

Perhaps another day, she and Emrys would pick one of the river’s forks on a whim and follow it to its end – with Aemond and Vhagar beside them.

But today, she had a mission.

She hadn’t held Emry’s reins for hours – hadn’t needed to. After they had left King’s Landing, she only needed to direct him once. North and ever so slightly east. Then she had simply let him fly.

He needed no encouragement beyond that. For so long, he had been restricted by Daemon’s threats against him, his cherished rider, and her home. He could hardly go half a mile from Dragonstone’s shores before fear gripped them both, and he had rarely been in the air for more than a few hours. Now, he was flying further than he ever had before.

It was not entirely a blessing.

They had left not long after dawn, and it had only been a short while since the sun reached its zenith, but his wings were aching with effort and overuse. After one particularly strong beat of his wings, to combat the wind he was flying against – a shooting pain went through his right shoulder, and he faltered a bit, causing Arianwyn to sit up in her seat and seize the reins again. He let out an apologetic roar, struggling to right himself and fly steady.

“Issa sȳz, Emrys,” Arianwyn called over the roaring wind. “Iksan sȳz. Issi ao?” It is fine, Emrys. I am fine. Are you?

He grunted in reply, the sound strained.

She sighed and leaned forward to pat the scales of his side. “Iksan sīr vaoreznuni, ñuha byka ossȳngnon. Iksi va naejot Wickenden. Kessa daor sagon bōsa, se pār kostā emagoniā mība ēdrugon.” I am so sorry, my little dread. We are near to Wickenden. It will not be long, and then you can have a short rest.

Indeed, Otto had anticipated this. That either Emrys or Arianwyn would tire before they reached their destination. The Hand had therefore sent a raven to the Lord of House Waxley, asking if they would host the newest Targaryen princess – and Lady of Runestone – for an afternoon tea as she made her way to the Eyrie.

Lord Waxley had been all too eager to accept. Wickenden had never had the honor of hosting a member of the Royal house before. It had been planned for King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne to visit during one of their many progresses, but an assassination attempt on the Good Queen had ended the tour before they had been able to visit the castle – which was conveniently located just over halfway between King’s Landing and the Eyrie.

As they flew over the Bay of Crabs, Emrys flying valiantly, Arianwyn made a note to thank Otto for his foresight when she returned. She whispered encouragement and praise, laughing at the dragon’s eager yelps as they finally began to descend toward the picturesque town, the humble stone castle that looked over it, and the great fleet of beehives that stood like soldiers in the fields beyond.

A large bonfire had been lit in one of the fields on the western side of the town – the signal for where Emrys should land. He did not need Arianwyn’s encouragement to aim toward it, but she had to pull up on his reins to ensure he didn’t descend too quickly. His tail, tipped with the same horns that ran from the crest of his head down his spine, came dangerously close to tearing through their beautifully thatched roofs and ensuring that a Targaryen would never again be invited to Wickenden.

Lord and Lady Waxley themselves were waiting in the field to receive them with genuinely warm formalities. They were older, bordering on truly elderly, but in good health. Both had a friendly air about them, and their cheeks were flushed as they gazed in awe at the dragon before them.

Every person who beheld Emrys bore that same look.

Regardless of their education, every person in Westeros knew of the Balerion, the mighty black dragon that had won the Seven Kingdoms for Aegon the Conqueror. Whose fires had melted the very stones of Harrenhal and forged the Iron Throne itself. Nearly two hundred years old at his death, he had been the last living creature who had known the glory of Old Valyria.

Though Emrys was smaller, younger, and had no great feats to his name, no one could look at him and not recall the legends of Balerion the Black Dread.

Arianwyn had a sneaking suspicion that he somehow understood why people looked at him with such amazement and that he relished in it. Why else would he always preen as he did now?

Emrys let out a pompous huff as he stood tall despite the ache in his muscles, and Arianwyn was sure he was holding a great breath in his chest to make himself seem larger than he was.

However, his posturing ended when Lord Waxley summoned a wagon full of chained goats and large barrels of water. Emrys, exhausted from their flight, eagerly bounded toward where knights began to unload his provisions. He was so thirsty that he shattered one of the water barrels between his teeth as he hurried to gulp it down.

Arianwyn gave her flustered apologies for his inelegant behavior to her hosts. They were overly gracious and assured her it was unnecessary, seemingly relieved that her fearsome beast was indeed not fearsome, but rather more like an excessively large, frighteningly deadly herding dog. Albeit, one not quite fully trained.

Emrys was fully trained, technically, but still filled with youthful wonder and joy at the world. He was not a creature of war, and Arianwyn was glad of it.

Dragons were not weapons, though her ancestors had so often used them as such. And they were more than beasts of burden or even beloved pets. They were more akin to peers than any other animal. Companions, partners, friends. Viserys had told her something of the like once, not long after she had taken her first flight.

But looking back at her friend as she climbed into the Waxley’s carriage to ride to their castle for a short visit and some refreshments, Arianwyn realized that the mission they were on suggested that neither of them may have a choice.

War was looming. If it came, Emrys might very well be forced to become a creature of war.

Arianwyn was repulsed by the thought. She let that revulsion and fear settle within her, let it become something heavy and sharp in her gut. It made her muscles tense, her heart beat faster, and her mind race.

She savored the feeling. Though it was uncomfortable, it sat well next to her burning desire to bend to Aemond’s wish to go to Runestone together – to leave the court and King’s Landing behind. She had not realized how much it appealed to her until she let herself imagine Emrys in the moorlands of Runestone, flying along its coasts and resting in its Dragonpit.

Emrys would love it there, especially if Vhagar was there with him. The old dragon would, of course, join them as well. And for the first time in decades, she would not be alone.

Smiling at her hosts, Arianwyn silently vowed that she would do anything to succeed in her mission – for Emrys and Vhagar, Aemond and herself, and the peace they all wanted.

Vhagar was old, and slower than she once was due to her massive size, but she still loved to fly. Aemond had to laugh each time she trilled joyfully whenever they caught a strong updraft or passed through a group of clouds. At least she could still fly fast enough that the lingering water from the clouds dried within moments.

Still, the flight to Storm’s End was longer than she was used to, and her vocalizations had become less joyful and more irritable the closer they got to their destination.

Her groans of protest as they ascended higher to fly over the mountains of the Crownlands were particularly crass – or they likely would have been had she been able to speak rather than roar. Aemond had no doubt that if Vhagar could form words, she would delight in cursing like a Braavosi sailor.

“Kesi jiōragon konīr aderelo jī toliot,” he shouted to her as he slackened his grip on the reins. “Yn lo ao drējī jaelagon naejot, kosti jikagon grevenka.” We will get there sooner if we go over. But if you truly want to, we can go around.

Vhagar’s answering growl echoed through the stone of the mountains. If anyone below had heard, they would be terrified. Aemond, who knew by now what each noise meant, was only vaguely annoyed.

The sooner I can get you off my back, the better, she had seemed to say.

He rolled his eye and tugged on her reins – not to give any order or direction, but to show her he did not appreciate her sentiments.

“Issa daor ñuha gaomilaksir bona iksā uēpa se ēdrugī,” he laughed. “Se nyke gīmigon ao jorrāelagon nyke, se ao jorrāelagon issare isse se jēdar. Iksā biare naejot sagon kesīr lēda nyke, se ao daor ruaragon ziry.” It is not my fault that you are old and tired. And I know you love me, and you love being in the sky. You are happy to be here with me, and you cannot hide it.

Indeed, she could not hide it. But she could huff delightedly as she spun herself around, flexing her wings just right to keep her airborne as she crested the mountain peak upside down. She roared with glee when Aemond finally began shouting for her to right herself.

“Vhagar, kesā mazverdagon nyke ropagon lo jā olvie tolī,” he screamed as the blood rushed to his head, and he strained to keep his hands on the horns of the saddle. “Kostilus? Iksan vaoreznuni!” You will make me faint if you go much further. Please? I’m sorry!

Satisfied, she righted herself. She was impressed by how long he had lasted. He was getting better. Soon, he may be able to go longer than even Visenya had. She gave a low roar.

Very good, little Prince. You shall be fierce yet.

Aemond rolled his eye again as he smoothed down his hair, but his heart swelled with pride. If only Arianwyn had been there to see that, she would have proclaimed him the dragonriding superior to the Conqueror then and there.

His chest tightened at the thought of his sweet wife alone on her journey, hundreds of miles away from him. By now, she would be in Wickenden or, ideally, already departed from it. He hoped she would not linger there too long, for the thought of her arriving at the Eyrie in the dark – or worse, getting lost in the mountains at night – was unbearable.

At the thought, his hand drifted to the hilt of his dagger. He had intended to send it with her so he could offer her at least some protection. But Ser Ruban beat him to it, giving her the first dagger he had ever owned as they climbed into the carriage. It was obviously made for a boy not yet grown, and as such, was the perfect size for Arianwyn.

She had protested, insisting that such an heirloom should be passed down to his own sons, but Ruban had vowed he had no intention to marry or sire sons and that it would be the greatest honor of his life for her to wield the blade. Who could have refused that?

Still, Aemond was glad, in the end, to have his dagger with him, for it reminded him of Arianwyn. She had bit down on the hilt so hard when he was buried between her thighs that she had left teeth marks in the leather and dented the gold wire wrapped around it.

Normally, such an imperfection would have frustrated Aemond to no end. But nothing she ever did could ever be called imperfect. He ran his thumb over the marks, his heart lightening at the memories it brought back. If she had thought he was ravenous yesterday, she would be amazed by what he planned to do once they were both back in King’s Landing.

Three days, he reminded himself. Then, gods willing, they would return to each other, having successfully won the allegiance of two of the most powerful houses in Westeros. An alliance that would surely dissuade his half-sister from pressing her dubious claim to the throne.

There would be no war, no death. Nothing to stop them from going to Runestone and starting their lives together.

He only had to wait three days.

Vhagar’s curmudgeonly roar stopped his mind’s wanderings.

Wake up, little Prince, it said. We are nearly there, and you must be ready.

Aemond had been so far into his daydream that he was well into picturing him and Arianwyn walking across the hills of the Vale with their flock of sheep and their small army of children.

He set those wonderful images aside, retaking Vhagar’s reins to guide her down toward the castle perched on the seaside cliff. Its singular tower reminded him of the descriptions he had once heard about Dragonstone, where the bricks used in its construction had been fused together with dragonfire, for even his keen eye could find no seams in the stone.

But Storm’s End was far older than the arrival of dragons on this continent. No, it had been constructed by men – or the Children of the Forest and a demi-god, if the legends were to be believed. The stones were so precisely cut that there were no seams, no vulnerable spaces for the winds that racked Shipbreaker Bay to find purchase.

Storms that Aemond had just noticed were conspicuously absent. Clouds covered the sky, yes. But no rain fell, and no thunder crashed through the sky.

Perhaps the gods were on his side.

When they finally left Wickenden – more than two hours later than she intended – Emrys was rested, well-fed, and eager to resume their journey. Lord and Lady Waxley had been so sweet and kind, and so excited that their humble castle was finally hosting a Targaryen that Arianwyn had not had the heart to interrupt the tour they insisted on giving her, along with a detailed history of their house. That part, at least, Arianwyn was mildly interested in.

She had only reached her limit when they began to escort her to the apiary itself, casually mentioning their more than five hundred beehives. Thanks to Helaena, Arianwyn had spent more time around insects, including bees, than most nobles. But the sheer number of bees that would surely be in those fields was too much even for her.

So, she hurried back to Emrys’ side and stuffed the ridiculous number of scented candles Lord Waxley had gifted her with into his saddlebags. She was sure at least half of them would be snapped or smashed by the time she reached the Eyrie, much less King’s Landing.

But she had grand plans for those that survived. A candlelit night with Aemond was precisely how she wanted to celebrate their return – and, hopefully, their successful courting of the Vale and the Stormlands.

That was what she needed to focus on right now. Her mission. Her duty to her family and her King. Her role as a Princess of the Realm.

Although, as the soaring peaks of the Mountains of the Moon loomed closer and the sun set lower behind them, she realized that her delay in Wickenden meant that making it to the Eyrie easily would be difficult – and arriving before sunset was impossible.

Aemond would be so upset. Though by the time he found out, she would be safely back in King’s Landing, he would nevertheless worry retrospectively and fuss over her relentlessly. She smiled at the thought. To all the world, he was such a fearsome warrior, yet he would fall nearly to pieces just from her arriving at her destination after dark.

The fearsome ‘One-Eyed Prince,’ indeed.

By the time they were well within the mountain range, snow-capped peaks extending beyond their view, it was truly dark. It was only thanks to the glow of the nearly-full moon off the snow that Emrys was able to navigate his way through the stony maze.

Though there were several close calls.

Arianwyn was reduced to prayer the further into the mountains they got. She would have to go to the Grand Sept itself to beg forgiveness for the string of curses that interrupted her beseeching of the Crone when Emrys suddenly swerved to avoid a peak he had not seen.

Eventually, there was a light other than the moon beckoning them. Seven other lights, actually. A fire had been lit atop each of the Eyrie’s spires, and every window in the castle was illuminated.

“Kirimvogon se Sīkuda. Se ao, Emrys. Īlon vēttan ziry,” Arianwyn muttered, as reverently as any of her prayers. “Ao vēttan ziry. Ao gōntan sīr sȳrī, Emrys.” Thank the Seven. And you.We made it. You made it. You did so well.

Though she could still hear the nervousness in his voice, Emrys trilled triumphantly as he rose above the castle’s white walls and lowered himself into its large garden.

Arianwyn leapt off the saddle, grateful to feel solid ground beneath her feet once more. Emrys immediately turned his head to nuzzle her, equally grateful that he had gotten her here safely. He made a soft sound, questioning whether she was alright after their harrowing flight.

“Iksan sȳz. Ao gōntan sīr sȳrī,” she assured him again as she stroked his snout. He was as much of a worrier as Aemond. Now that she thought about it, her husband and her dragon were, in fact, quite similar. I am fine. You did so well.

She looked around the expansive gardens, surprised at the wealth of greenery within. The Maesters must have toiled for years to get anything to grow atop the tallest mountain in Westeros.

While it was beautiful, but all Arianwyn could think of was its rich history.

Leaning into Emrys as she heard hurried footsteps approach from within the castle, Arianwyn whispered gently to calm him. “Vhagar māstan kesīr istin, ao gīmigon. Lēda Visenya, skori ziry jiōraton se Vāle.” Vhagar came here once, you know. With Visenya, when she won the Vale.

Emrys glanced around the large courtyard as if he would still be able to find a remnant of his new friend, and sniffed deeply to see if her scent lingered after more than a hundred years. But, of course, it did not. And his attention was soon drawn to the small party emerging into the gardens.

“Aria!” Ser Gerold called as he ran to her side and pulled her off the flagstones and into his warm embrace.

She squealed with undignified delight as she hugged him back, laughing with joy at finally seeing him again. He had made many entreaties to visit her at Dragonstone during her time there, all soundly rejected by her father.

But now, he stood before her, holding her at arm’s length as they inspected each other.

Gerold’s hair had gone entirely white in the last six years, and his hairline had receded even further. He was heavier, too, and wearing a different set of armor than he had when she saw him last. There were shadows under his eyes, so like the ones Alicent wore. But his gray eyes were bright and shone with tears of relief as he looked at Arianwyn and cradled her cheek in his large hand.

“Oh, Aria,” he sighed with a half-smile. “You are a woman now.”

She blinked tears from her eyes and laughed sheepishly as she smiled back at him. “And you are an old man, cousin.”

He laughed with her when she ruffled her hand through his hair. “Now we really look like family, don’t we?”

“Next time you come to King’s Landing, we can try and pass you off as a long-lost Targaryen Prince!” Arianwyn snorted, her eyes wide as her mind turned mischievous. “If Aegon is drunk enough, I know he will believe it!”

Another laughing voice joined them, soft and feminine despite its deep tone. “As much as watching this long-overdue reunion warms my heart,” it said, “I should like to be introduced to my godsdaughter, Gerold.”

Arianwyn peered over her cousin’s shoulder to look at Lady Jeyne Arryn – her godsmother.

Jeyne’s dark eyes were filled with nearly as much pride as Gerold’s, and her thin lips were curved in a hesitant, hopeful grin. She extended a long arm toward the girl, beckoning her forward. “Come, it had been nineteen long years. Let me look at you at last.”

With childlike enthusiasm, Arianwyn obeyed, taking Jeyne’s hand and even giving her a quick twirl as he godsmother looked over her. But her impatience grew as the Lady remained silent, thoroughly examining her – and her bronze armor.

For a moment, she was afraid of rejection, that she would somehow be found wanting. Indeed, Jeyne frowned when she ran a hand along her braided silver hair, but then she lifted her chin to look at her eyes, and beamed.

“You look so like your mother,” Jeyne whispered, her voice breaking.

Arianwyn stifled a sob. No one had ever told her that before. She had only ever heard how unlike her father she was. To know that she resembled Rhea, and not some distant ancestor she never knew, was cathartic.

She was a Royce, in more than just her eyes.

“Oh, but I have forgotten my manners,” Jeyne tutted, releasing the girl as she lowered herself into a curtsy. “You are more than just my godsdaughter, the child of my oldest friend, and the Lady of Runestone. You are now a Princess, if rumor is to be believed.”

“I have told her it must be true,” Gerold added as he came to stand by the girl’s side. “But our Lady has always been hesitant to believe gossip. And since you did not write to confirm any of the rumors…”

Jeyne rolled her eyes. “You would be wary as well, were you the subject of so many whispers over the years. And if the stories were as contrary as what we have heard.”

“It is true,” Arianwyn said, cutting off whatever witty reply Gerold had planned. He was so much less awkward now, here. She liked him like this. “Prince Aemond and I were married. I am so sorry I did not write, but it was… the last few days have been quite strange.”

“They must have been for you to be wed in a secret ceremony,” Gerold reasoned. “Unless that particular detail is untrue?”

He and Jeyne both took Arianwyn’s blushing and stuttering as confirmation.

“Well, I cannot wait to hear the real story,” Jeyne said, looping her arm through the girl’s to lead her out of the garden. “You would not believe what people are saying, my dear.”

Gerold followed close behind. “And I cannot wait to hear what delayed your arrival – you were expected hours ago. I was quite worried, Aria. I was almost ready to send a raven to Wickenden to ask after you.”

“Oh,” Arianwyn gasped, waving a quick goodbye to Emrys, who was already wrapping himself around a smoldering brazier to sleep. “I am so sorry! Lord and Lady Waxley kept me longer than I intended, and they were so sweet that I could not bring myself to stop them.”

She told them the story as they led her through the winding marble halls of the Eyrie, finally depositing her on a blue sofa before a roaring fire. A servant quickly brought her a hot meal, and she was introduced to Jessamyn Redfort, a dear friend of Jeyne’s, before Lady Arryn bombarded her with questions about her childhood and youth.

Arianwyn nearly choked on a piece of her roast chicken when Jeyne asked whether she had first kissed Aemond before or after she had flowered and if their relations had progressed further even than that before they were married.

She looked at her godsmother with wide eyes. “I… we never did anything like that until we were wed. And the bedding ceremony.”

Jeyne laughed so hard she nearly spilled her wine – her fourth cup of the night; she and Aegon would get along famously. “Gerold tells me the two of you were practically inseparable from the time you arrived in the capital, yet you mean to tell me you never even kissed before your wedding?”

“Well, we came close a few times,” Arianwyn said, thoroughly flustered as each memory of their relationship flooded back through her mind, “But I had never felt that way about him until I came back from Dragonstone. At least, I wasn’t aware of it if until then.”

Gerold sighed, “Aria, I can assure you that you were aware of it, though you were too young to know how to do anything about it. When you love someone, you cannot hide it, even from yourself.” He smirked, glancing to where Jeyne and Jessamyn shared a couch. “From what I saw, you have loved each other from the time you could walk, perhaps earlier.”

Jessamyn sighed dreamily, resting her head against Jeyne’s shoulder. “Your story is so lovely… how did those horrible rumors even start?”

The room fell silent, no one meeting her eyes. The hour Arianwyn had been here had been blissful, without a single mention of those rumors, or what happened the morning after her wedding.

They could not ignore it forever.

“It was my father, actually,” she explained. “Lies he concocted to try and have the marriage annulled. He could not stand to see me happy, or more than that, finally free from his control.”

Gerold grimaced. “Daemon Targaryen is a monster. It is simple as that.”

Arianwyn solemnly nodded her agreement, turning to Jeyne. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. Or rather, something related to it. I don’t know how much the Hand told you in his letter, but…”

“Not tonight, Aria,” she snapped, her wine-flushed face turning stern for the first time that night. Arianwyn could, at last, see the great Maiden of the Vale in her godsmother, the woman who had soundly put down three rebellions against her rule. “I know why you are here, and I will happily listen to your petition – tomorrow. But, for tonight, I simply want to know you. To hear about all I have missed. Will you grant me that?”

Truthfully, Arianwyn was glad not to have to make the case for Aegon’s rule so late at night, when she was tired and already starting to feel quite fuzzy from her wine – Jessamyn had hunted down the sweetest vintage in the Eyrie’s stores to suit her fickle tastes.

She took another sip and looked back to her godsmother. “What would you like to know?”

Despite its impressive size, Storm’s End was still not large enough for Vhagar to land within its walls. But, by this point in her life, she was more than used to it. So, she contentedly settled beside the castle walls, where a great number of braziers and chained cattle were already laid out for her.

“Hāre tubissa, Vhagar,” Aemond murmured as he climbed down from her side. “Lēda biarves, kessa daor daomio, se kesā sagon arlī naejot se bāneves hen Dārys Tegorīr gō ao mirre ūndegon iā iōrves.” Three days, Vhagar. With luck, it will not rain, and you will be back to the warmth of King’s Landing before you ever catch a chill.

She only groaned in response, looking up at the clouds above them. Though no rain had fallen, the sky roiled with brewing storms.

Aemond sighed, a bemused grin on his face as he patted her worn scales. “Kesan ūndegon nūmāzma mirri ruaragon syt ao, sepār naejot sagon ȳgha.” I will see about some cover for you, just to be safe.

As he was escorted through the castle gates, he politely requested – he would never presume to give orders to another Lord’s servants, even if he wasn’t so determined to make a good impression – that some kind of shelter be arranged for Vhagar. He didn’t particularly care when the man started blustering about the labor and expense of such a thing. After being on dragonback for more than eight hours, his patience for other people was running dangerously thin, and he would need all of it when he finally met with Lord Borros Baratheon.

His mother and grandfather had warned him that Borros was perhaps the least refined Lord in all of Westeros. Their descriptions painted a picture of a man that, had he the choice, Aemond would have gladly avoided.

But they needed his allegiance. Aegon needed it, if he wanted to keep his throne.

So, Aemond would ensure he had it.

When the servant brought him before a set of dark wooden doors, he willed his face into one of his many masks, this one of pleasant indifference. He did not try to look friendly – he knew he couldn’t manage it, even if he wanted to. He had given that up long ago, even before his scar turned him into something truly terrifying to behold.

Indeed, when the doors opened, every man in the room looked at him with a healthy measure of fear as they stood and bowed their heads to the One-Eyed Prince.

It was not the throne room, where a Prince of the Realm should be received, but some sort of garish trophy room. Each wall was covered with horns and the stuffed heads of boars, deer, and even a few more exotic creatures. A few smaller animals were fully preserved, and posed in poor imitations of how they had been in life.

Aemond found the whole thing revolting. Especially the shadowcat pelt on the floor in the middle of the room, its head stuffed and frozen in an eternal howl. Even in death, such a creature deserved more than being trampled on by countless muddy boots.

Still, he kept his face impassive, not letting his offense at either the disrespect of greeting him here, or his personal disgust at Borros’ crude choice of décor show.

The Lord of the Stormlands was easy to identify, not only by the chain of office around his neck, but by the way every other man in the room looked at him expectantly. He was as Aemond expected – a thick-bodied old Lord with graying hair and a beard. What he hadn’t expected was the keen look in his eyes, though it faded quickly as he took another drink from his cup.

By the smell that pervaded the room, Borros and his entourage had been enjoying their ale for some time.

Ale – not wine. A drink more suited to the slums of Flea Bottom than the castle of a great Lord. It was nearly as vulgar as the décor.

Aemond crossed his hand behind his back and stared at Borros. He had tolerated the slight of his humble reception, but he still expected a formal greeting befitting both their stations. Though, even if he did not receive it, there was little he could do about it.

He would not fail Aegon.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen,” Borros began, his voice somewhat arrogant but respectful enough. “Welcome. You honor us with your presence.”

“The honor is mine, Lord Borros,” Aemond replied with a gracious bow of his head. “You have my gratitude for agreeing to host me with so little notice.”

Borros gave a tight smile. “How could I refuse? Our houses have long been allied, and you are the brother of our new King, after all.”

“Your loyalty to the crown is much appreciated,” Aemond said as he conceded a slight grin. This may not be as difficult as he was anticipating. “King Aegon sends his warm regards, as well as an offer – ”

“Oh, but where are my manners?” Borros interrupted, with an distinct lack of manners. “You have had a long journey, my Prince. Let us eat, and you can entertain us all with the tale of your brother’s coronation, since none of us were present – or even invited to attend.”

Aemond only nodded, for if he said anything, it would no doubt be rude and quash any chance he had of charming this brute of a man.

This would be just as difficult as he thought.

Very few of the men seated at Borros’ table were Lords themselves, or even highborn. Only half were even knights. It seemed all they had in common was their love of ale and the favor they held with their Lord.

Aemond had taken note of several who introduced themselves with the surname ‘Storm.’ They were too old to be Borros’ own bastards, though perhaps they could be his half-brothers or cousins. Whatever the relation, if there was any relation at all, their presence at the table was yet another poor omen for Aemond’s success.

He would not be able to argue that Rhaenyra’s bearing of her own bastards, and insistence on their legitimacy, posed a threat to the realm should she press her claim.

The first omen, other than the boorishness of Borros himself, had been the conspicuous absence of his wife and daughters. When Aemond inquired after them, under the pretense of paying his respects to the Lady of the Castle, he was told that they rarely eat with the men, especially before a hunt. Apparently, Borros and his men were ‘too rowdy for the women’ when they were together.

There could be no doubting the veracity of that statement.

More ale was brought to the table, along with a single bottle of wine for Aemond, which he did not drink. Though he had to admit to being tempted. If only to dull his mind and make the meal more bearable.

The food was not terrible, though there was a severe lack of vegetables in favor of nearly obscene amounts of meat. But the company was precisely what Aemond hated about court.

Boastful men telling tales of their exploits, brazenly embellishing their feats to a mythical degree. At least the stories were mostly about hunting and battle, not other, more vulgar conquests.

Whenever possible, Aemond tried to insert himself into the conversation so he could steer Borros to the actual reason he had come. But each time, Borros brushed him aside, calling instead on one of his men to tell yet another tale.

Aemond had resigned himself to silence when, at last, Borros turned to him.

“Tell me, my Prince,” he said, picking the last remaining scraps of meat off the bone he held. “Do you hunt?”

“I cannot say I am accomplished as you or your men here,” Aemond said cautiously, surprised that he was addressed directly. “But I have hunted, though not for some time.”

Borros looked somewhat conspiratorially at the man sitting to his left before turning back to the Prince. “And when you hunt, do you ride your horse or that dragon of yours?”

Aemond was surprised by the question, by its boldness and sheer ridiculousness. “Hunt with Vhagar? Certainly not.” He started, choking on his water as he realized how his words may offend his host. “I… she is far too large for most hunting grounds. And any prey she caught would either be swallowed whole or burnt. There would be nothing left to bring back. It would not be an effective method of hunting.”

“I see,” Borros muttered, refilling his mug of ale. “A shame. I was hoping you would join us tomorrow. I sense you are eager to get to whatever business your brother has sent you on. However, this hunt has been planned for months, and I will not postpone it simply because Aegon wants something of me.”

It took great effort on Aemond’s part to not scowl at what he was implying – that the Prince would be forced to wait until Borros deigned to meet with him.

But he could not wait that long. Rhaenys had no doubt told Rhaenyra of Aegon’s coronation, and by the time Aemond and Arianwyn left the Keep, two Kingsguard had gone ‘missing.’ Dragonstone, that hateful place, was no doubt already buzzing as Daemon prepared for war. Even a day’s delay in securing Storm’s End could have devastating consequences.

Besides, Aemond promised Aria that he would be back, and they would be reunited, before their three days were up.

So, he forced a polite smile and his voice to remain calm. “Then surely it would be wise for us to settle the business tonight, would it not?”

“Is there some pressing need for haste, my Prince?” Borros asked smugly.

“Regrettably, yes,” Aemond bit out. He clenched his hand under the table at the smug look on the faces surrounding him. It would be unwise to give his true reason for wanting the business done quickly.

‘One should never reveal more than is necessary,’ as it was written in the book of warfare he was still reading. The same book he had been reading when Arianwyn climbed atop him…

He gave a short laugh and what he hoped was a charming smile to the men that were watching him. They were so simple, so easy to read. And though he hated to discuss his dear wife in such a way, he knew precisely how to ply them.

“I am sure you have heard that I have been married,” he explained, knowing he would feel guilty the next time he saw Arianwyn. “It has not yet been a week since that happy night, and I confess I find myself impatient to return to my wife.”

“And her bed,” one of the men further down the table snickered.

Aemond drew his hand into a fist so fast that his nails dug into the skin of his palm, but he said nothing. Instead, he smirked, hoping it would be interpreted as a sign of amusement and not the dangerous rage he truly felt.

Borros rolled his eyes before facing the Prince again. “Normally, I would be happy to accommodate your request. I remember how reluctant I was to let Elenda out of my sight when we were first wed. And our own courtship was not half as…” he carefully assessed Aemond before finishing his sentence, “hasty as your own.”

“Where is your lovely wife now, Prince Aemond?” One of Borros’ men – one of the Storm bastards – asked.

A seemingly innocent question, but Aemond knew what he was really asking. Larys had said that Daemon’s accusations had made their way throughout the realm. How, he had no idea. But this confirmed it. As had the two score sets of eyes that immediately turned to him, waiting for his answer.

“The Princess Arianwyn left the Red Keep just before me this morning,” he said, noting exactly which men looked surprised by his words. “She and her dragon flew for the Eyrie. They should be there now, assuming they were not delayed in Wickenden.”

He could have sworn he saw two men exchanging coins under the table. The payment of a wager on whether the One-Eyed Prince had truly captured his bride – whether he was the monster he was rumored to be.

Aemond took in a heavy, calming breath before he continued. “It was my hope to return to King’s Landing before her, so I can welcome her home when she arrives. Neither she nor her dragon have been on so long a journey before; she is bound to be tired.”

Another chuckle went through the men, and several lewd comments Aemond pretended not to hear as he turned back to Borros. “I trust you can understand my haste, then?”

“I can,” Borros conceded. “But I still cannot postpone the hunt. So, you will join us, and we can discuss whatever business you have then.”

Though he would rather dine with the Stranger than spend time in the woods with these men, Aemond agreed. And hastily excused himself from the meal. If he was to endure the next day without killing or maiming one of the men, particularly the bastard who had made the crudest comments about Arianwyn, he would need his rest.

And no small amount of prayer.

After an hour of beseeching each of the Seven for the strength he would need to survive the hunt, he, at last, settled into his bed. His hand reached for the scrap of periwinkle cloth he had held close to him for so many years, but it was not there.

He had given it to Arianwyn the day after their wedding.

“I have the sapphire,” he had said, tapping the gemstone with his finger. “It is only fair you have a reminder of our love too. Particularly since I have not had the chance to get you a ring…”

She had been so delighted that even now, as he longed for some reminder of her, Aemond could not bring himself to regret it. So instead, he stood from the bed and retrieved his dagger – secure in its sheath – before sliding back between the sheets.

Aemond fell asleep brushing his thumb over the marks she had left on its hilt.

Arianwyn yawned – again – in the middle of telling Jeyne the very last details she could recall of her first flight as a dragonrider. “After that, King Viserys threw a small feast in my honor. He also had an auroch sent to the Dragonpit as a treat for Emrys. And…”

She was interrupted by yet another yawn, which was soon echoed by Gerold.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, rubbing at her eyes to try and clear their blurriness. “I must have had a little too much wine. I’m afraid I’m quite tired.”

“Nonsense!” Jessamyn said gently. “It is we who have kept you up too late with our thirst for stories. You have had a long day. Of course you are tired.”

Jeyne signaled to a servant, “Perhaps some tea to wake the Princess?”

Gerold groaned and slid his face into his hand. While he loved listening to Arianwyn, he had already fallen asleep in his chair twice, and had been promptly scolded when his snoring interrupted her stories.

“I think,” Jessamyn insisted, grabbing Jeyne’s wrist and lowering it back down, “that we should let her sleep and recover from her journey. We will have more time to talk tomorrow.”

When Jeyne turned back to her godsdaughter to send her to bed, the girl’s eyes were already closed, and she swayed slightly, even as she continued to hold her wine goblet aloft. Gerold, too, had fallen back asleep.

“I am afraid you are right, my dear,” Jeyne whispered to her companion, pressing a brief kiss to her firey red hair. “Forgive me. I’ve wanted to meet her for years, and I let myself get carried away.”

Jessamyn caressed Jeyne’s cheek and smiled sweetly. “It is perfectly understandable, my love. Though, tomorrow you may want to rein your enthusiasm in – just slightly. I am fairly sure she made up many of the details you asked for. Though I cannot blame her. I can’t remember what I wore on my sixth nameday either!”

“Yes, most of that wasn’t actually that important, was it?” Jeyne asked with a wince. “I just want to know everything I missed. Everything Rhea missed…”

They were interrupted when Arianwyn’s hand went slack, and her goblet fell to the floor with a loud clatter. She and Gerold were both startled awake, the old knight stumbling out of his chair and reaching for his sword.

“What happened?” he asked, glancing around blearily.

“Nothing,” Jeyne assured her friend, then looked back at Arianwyn. “Nothing but an old woman being foolish. I’m sorry dear, of course, you should rest.”

The Princess was too tired to do anything but nod gratefully as Gerold offered his arm to lead her to her chambers. But Jeyne and her close companion did not mind. They only smiled fondly as she left the room.

Arianwyn had nearly fallen asleep on her cousin’s shoulder when he opened the chamber doors for her, and she stumbled into the room.

“Servants retrieved your things from Emrys earlier. I am told he did not wake once. Do you need a maid to help you?” Gerold asked. “I can find one to wake and send to you, if you wish.”

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” she said. Then, mustering the last of her strength, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I missed you very much.”

He gazed warmly at her, cupping her chin in his hands to kiss her hairline. “I missed you, too, Aria. Sleep well, and I will see you tomorrow. There is something I would like to give you before you leave. A wedding present, of sorts.”

Her smile fell at his words, but then she laughed bashfully as her cheeks flushed. “I… I forgot that I would be sleeping alone tonight. I have so quickly become accustomed to having Aemond next to me.”

“Oh, Aria,” Gerold pulled her into a tight embrace. He laughed with her as he stroked her hair, tears once more coming to his grey eyes. “I am so blissfully happy for you.”

“I am blissfully happy, as well, and nearly as tired,” she giggled, pulling away from the embrace.

Gerold patted her cheek once more. “Then I will leave to your rest, my dear.” He took a deep breath, and Arianwyn thought he might cry again. “I love you, Aria. And I am so proud of you. Your mother would be, too.”

She brought a hand over her mouth as she held back a sob. Every bone in her body cried out to hug him again, but she knew that if she did, she would cry through the night and not get any rest. She lowered her hand as she nodded furiously and whispered her thanks as Gerold left and shut the door behind him.

Thankfully, her tears had calmed by the time she removed her dress – Jeyne had been only just convinced to let her remove her armor before her meal. She was too tired to cry and too tired to don a nightgown. She slid into the bed, wearing only her chemise to cover her, and holding a small scrap of periwinkle silk in her hand.

Aemond had given it to her after he noticed it on the floor the day after they were wed, to be a placeholder of sorts until he found her a wedding ring. But she had already decided not to give it back to him, even after she had her ring.

It smelled of Aemond. His scent of parchment and steel thoroughly steeped into the fabric after he kept it for so long in either his breast pocket or under his pillow. And somehow, it seemed to retain some of his warmth, as well.

Arianwyn fell asleep cradling that small scrap of silk to her cheek.

Next Chapter

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theboywithburninghands · 1 month

Text

Okay. Executive decision. Posting the first chapter of my two-parter here, because I'm loaded with caffeine and I want you guys to see what I've been up to all week. Uh it's pure Funnybunny, so sorry if you wanted some Ragatha romance stuff... Uhhhhhh also like... it's a bit long? And character driven rather than romance driven. Hope you like it anyway! Oh and I'm linking the AO3 if you'd prefer that. T/W: Mild cartoon violence, self hatred, a sex joke

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55822147/chapters/141729268

Like Rhinestones, Falling From the Sky (Part 1)

he grounds of the Digital Circus had two states. Daytime and sunny, nighttime and clear. It was a constant that no one bothered to disturb. Caine could grant a lot of requests around the circus, but rarely in any way the asker might want. Ask for a few wildflowers to add some color on the grounds? Congratulations, now there was an entire field of flowers, flowers that smelled like cheap, nose-tickling perfume and grew so thick and snared that it was impossible to walk around outside. Ask for a cool, dim day because you wanted a nap? Hey presto, now the entire circus was engulfed in an impenetrable fog that made Silent Hill look like the Aouzou Strip. The performers all followed the same motto when it came to the weather:

If it’s already broken, don’t break it any more.

Due to this motto being in place, it was a complete mystery as to why all the performers were shaken awake early one morning by a skull-rattling crash of thunder.

Kinger was the first out of his room, bursting through his door with a melodramatic wail.

“They’ve finally arrived! The harvest has commenced! They want ALL of our garmonbozia!!!”

Zooble was out of their room next, screwing their head back on their torso and limping over to the eldest performer.

“Relax! Chill the f#%@ out, old timer, it’s just thunder.” they snapped, still not quite awake.

As if on cue, another rapturous tremor of thunder tore through the air, Ragatha emerging from her room and staring worriedly at the ceiling before joining the group.

“Are you guys okay? That’s some crazy weather we’re-“

Ragatha let out an “eep!” as Kinger seized her by the front of the dress.

“Ragatha! We’re under attack! What’s Morse code for SOS?!”

Ragatha gently took hold of Kinger’s wrists and guided them off of her dress. She smiled and her voice took on a warm, fuzzy tone.

“Hey… no one is attacking us, Kinger. It’s probably been ages since you’ve heard a thunderstorm, hasn’t it? There’s nothing to be afraid of.” she cooed.

“Unless that’s what they want you to think.” came a slippery voice from behind her. Jax leaned against the wall, one foot flat against it. He sported a tired but nonetheless smug grin.

“Jax, quit it. Can’t you see he’s scared?” Ragatha chided, but Jax continued as if she hadn’t spoken, walking right up to Kinger.

“Who knows, maybe they’re after your bug collection, Kinger, or- OW!”

Zooble silenced Jax with a single, well aimed punch to the cheek.

“Can you shut up? It’s too early for your schoolyard bull#%&$.” Zooble drawled.

Jax massaged his cheek and gave a petulant “Jeez…” under his breath. Pomni was out of her room next, stirred from sleep like the rest of them. Her black eyelids hung over her eyes like an eclipse, and she dragged her body over to the others as if it had weights tied to it.

“Hey, morning, Sunshine!” Jax smirked, a hand still on the cheek Zooble punched.

“Go #%&$ yourself…” Pomni mumbled, staring off into the void.

“YEESH, everyone is crabby this morning. I can’t even say hello withou-“

KRK-BOOOOOOOMMMM!

A peal of thunder like a boulder tumbling into a dump truck shook the air again, everyone instinctively covering their ears (or where their ears should have been.)

“Okay, we should see what’s going on! Maybe it’s part of a new adventure..?” Ragatha proposed as soon as the rumbling subsided.

“Wait! Where’s Gangle?!” Kinger cried.

There was a soft click as the door to Gangle’s room was opened just a crack, the ribbon girl peering just one eye out and trembling like a leaf.

“What’s happening…?” she mewled.

Zooble pressed their foot on top of Jax’s to keep him from speaking up.

“It’s just a storm, Gangle… We’re gonna go see what’s going on. You wanna come with?” Ragatha smiled and approached Gangle’s door, offering a hand. Gangle gulped and took Ragatha’s hand with one of her ribbons.

“Okay…” she whimpered.

Jax made a “gag me” motion but remained quiet.

The six performers headed out into the main room, nearly tumbling onto the chessboard floor from another apocalyptic boom of thunder.

“Does this sort of thing ever happen out of nowhere..?!” Pomni shouted, her crabbiness from lack of sleep bubbling over.

“Didn’t you hear Caine when you first got here? ‘THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS IS A PLACE WHERE ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN!’ Chaos is sorta par for the course.” Jax replied. His impression of Caine was actually pretty good, and might have made Pomni smirk a bit if she wasn’t so irritable.

“Jax is right,” Ragatha chimed in from further ahead. “Around here you have to expect the unexpected, and prepare for what isn’t there.”

“Yeah, but the way I said it wasn’t stupid.” Jax replied.

The six of them reached the tent’s exit. It was zipped closed, but quavered feverishly. A small pool of rainwater oozed through the bottom of the flap, occasionally lit bright pearly blue by unseen flashes of lightning from outside.

“Okay, so it’s definitely storming. Now we know.” Jax drawled, crossing his arms.

“See Kinger? No one is coming, it’s just bad we-“

Another tremendous crash of thunder interrupted Ragatha, and a half-second later, all of the lights in the tent sputtered and died. The only light left was the heavily censored sunlight from outside filtering under the tent flap.

“I f#%&$ng hate it here…” Zooble sighed.

“Okay, no one wander off. Let’s all stick together and find our way back to our rooms…” Ragatha began.

Gangle jolted with a yelp. “Someone grabbed me!”

“Jax!” Zooble growled.

“It wasn’t me! I’m all the way back here, Hodge-Podge!” Jax retorted from the darkness.

“It was me, Gangle! I grabbed your hand…” Ragatha interjected. “I’m sorry, I thought you would need a hand to hold.”

“Tha-That’s not my hand-”

The performers squinted as a corona of light bloomed in the middle of the room. From the center of the ring, Bubble appeared, glowing with an iridescent, rainbow colored light.

“And God said, let there be LIGHT!” he announced, his squeaky voice echoing throughout the tent.

“DON’T BE RIDICULOUS BUBBLE! IF ANYONE’S GOD AROUND HERE, IT’S YOURS TRULY!” Caine floated down from on high, emitting his own faint light, just enough so he could be seen clearly against the backdrop of darkness.

“There is no God here…” Zooble muttered.

“Amen.” added Pomni.

“SO MY LITTLE SUPERSTARS! IT SEEMS YOU’VE ALL BEEN MADE AWARE OF OUR INCLEMENT WEATHER!” Caine unzipped the tent entrance. The sky was charcoal black and arcing with threads of lightning. Rain slashed across the grounds in great sweeps and the howling wind eagerly pushed its way into the tent, bringing in a spray of raindrops that doused the six performers, who covered their faces and demanded Caine close the tent again, which he thankfully did after just a few seconds.

“BUT NOT TO WORRY! WHILE I FIX THIS BROUHAHA, YOU ALL-”

He paused for another crash of thunder.

“-YOU ALL WILL BE ENJOYING AN ADVENTURE!”

“La dee da.” Jax drawled.

“SO, PLEASE ENJOY YOUR TIME IIIIN-”

Caine snapped his fingers. There was a moment or two of silence before Caine looked down at his fingers and snapped once again. Then again.

“Huh. That was supposed to open a portal.” Caine said sheepishly.

“Did you try turning it off and on again?” Bubble asked, squinting one eye.

“Havin’ issues there, Caine? It’s alright, it happens to guys your age.” Jax said with a grin. Pomni felt the corners of her mouth raise, despite herself.

“I DON’T APPRECIATE YOUR INNUENDO, JAX!” Caine declared, brandishing his cane with a trembling hand. He tried a few more futile finger snaps.

“So, we’re stuck here..?” Gangle asked, wringing her ribbons together. “In the dark..?”

There was an ill-timed crash of thunder that made her jump and squeak a little too loudly. She covered up her mask as bright pink blush marks formed under her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m with Ribbons, Caine,” Jax said, jabbing a thumb at Gangle. “Everybody knows monsters like the dark since it’s easier to hide.”

“Okay, cut the Twilight Zone bull$#!%.” Zooble scoffed.

“As someone who’s actually seen The Twilight Zone,” Ragatha piped up. “The quote is ‘There’s nothing in the dark that wasn’t there when the lights were on.’ So we’re fine, Gangle. It’s just us.”

“Nerd.” Jax replied.

In the midst of this whole exchange, Caine had snapped his fingers a good two dozen times before clapping his hands to his face/teeth and bellowing in frustration.

“Excusemeforjustonesecond!” he spat before disappearing in a flash of light and some confetti. Bubble looked around, barely managing a “Bye-!” before popping, dousing the light and plunging the room back into darkness.

There was a moment or two of silence before another peal of thunder shook the tent. Gangle let out a quiet, uneasy groan as everyone tried to get their bearings in an almost total absence of light.

“I’m going back to bed.” Zooble announced flatly. The only indication that they were leaving was the sound of careful footsteps receding into the black.

“Wait, can you find your way there?” Pomni asked.

“I’ll figure it out.” Zooble replied, nothing but a voice from the darkness. Pomni listened to their receding footsteps before she began to pace back and forth.

“I can’t believe it, he just left us here. Not even a flashlight! Isn’t this place supposed to be magic?! How does the power even go out?!”

“It is the first time I’ve ever seen this happen since I’ve been here…” Ragatha admitted. “What about you, Kinger? You ever seen anything like this?”

“Right now I don’t see much of anything…” Kinger replied matter-of-factly.

Another roar of thunder, Gangle making an unhappy noise and clinging to Ragatha. Since it was dark, Jax couldn’t see, and thus couldn’t tease her for it. Ragatha patted her on the mask.

“I don’t want to go off by myself… What if something happens?” she whimpered.

“Come on, Crybaby, you’re not seriously worried about monsters, are ya?” Jax drawled.

“You’re the one that put the thought into her head, Jax.” Pomni replied.

“I was joking .” Jax snarked, as if it was the most obvious fact since “water happened to be a little damp.”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“Yeah?” Jax’s tone darkened. “Well unfortunately, Clownface , the funny guy-”

They were interrupted by a dry, metallic scratch and a spark of orange light. Kinger held a silver lighter in his hand, which supported a tiny yellow-orange flame.

“…That’s my lighter.” Jax said after a moment. “Where did you get my lighter?!”

“Wait, Jax, why do you have a lighter at all?” Ragatha interjected.

“None of your business. You need to stay outta my stuff, Hoo-Hah.” Jax took a few steps towards Kinger.

“I only found it.” Kinger said, taking an equal number of steps back.

“Bull. I don’t leave my stuff layin’ around. Hand it over.” Jax stuck a gloved hand out.

Kinger looked down at the lighter, then to Jax, who put his hand forward more insistently. Kinger snapped the lighter closed, smothering the fire and disappearing into darkness.

“Hey! Where’d you go?!”

“Kinger, wait! We need the light! Don’t go!” Gangle begged.

There was a grunt and a crash somewhere in the dark, the thunder replying in kind. Another dry, metallic scratch and Kinger reappeared, illuminated orange and standing over by Gangle and Ragatha.

“What was that?!” he cried, stiffly holding the flame out in front of him.

“It was me, you moron!” Jax’s irritated voice called out from somewhere in the void. “I couldn't see my hand in front of my face! Now hand over my lighter before I-”

Kinger yelped and snapped the lighter closed again.

“Both of you, stop it!” Pomni shouted. “Jax, I don’t give a $#!% if it’s yours or not, it’s all we’ve got for light right now, so quit acting like a p&!€# for two god&@#% seconds! Kinger!”

They heard the jester take a breath and soften her voice.

“Kinger. We need the lighter to see. Can you please turn it back on so we can at least get back to our rooms?”

There was a pause, another rumble of thunder, and at last, a metallic flick as the lighter sparked again. Kinger’s hands shook.

“Thank you…” Pomni said with a weary smile. “Lead the way, if you don’t mind.”

The five performers made their way towards backstage, slowly and methodically in the cavernous tent. They passed an overturned pile of brightly colored shapes, Jax delivering a well aimed punt to a mint-colored cylinder, which sailed off into the darkness and landed out of sight with a drumroll of thuds.

“Was that the thing you tripped over?” Ragatha asked, her smile audible in her voice.

“Felt like kickin’ something.” Jax replied tartly.

After a few minutes of careful maneuvering amidst peals of thunder, the five of them made it to the corridor backstage.

“Well… what do we do now..?” Pomni asked.

“Do we have to do anything?” Jax replied.

“Well… not really. But I think it might be fun to have a slumber party!” Ragatha said brightly.

“No offense, Ragatha, but I don’t know if any of us are really in a party mood…” Pomni said, rubbing her left arm with her right hand.

“No, no, it doesn’t have to be an actual party. We can all just hang around in my room! I’ve got some candles we can light so we can see, and I’ll teach you guys how to make a blanket fort-”

“You have candles?” Pomni interrupted. “Oh, that’s really good news… Now we don’t have to sit around in the dark. How many do you have, Ragatha?”

“Oh gosh, um…” Ragatha rubbed her chin with her hand. “30? No, 40!”

There was a period of silence. Kinger held the lighter out so she was illuminated.

“What?” Ragatha asked, putting her hands on her hips defensively. “I need to de-stress every once in a while too, y’know!”

“If the tent ever burns down, we know who to blame.” Jax quipped.

“Oh stop it!” Ragatha flapped her hand dismissively.

“Can… we have a few? Just to have a little bit of light around here…” Pomni asked, touching the tips of her fingers together.

“Yeah! Absolutely, come on!” Ragatha led her fellow performers to her room, unlocking the door with a bit of flourish and motioning them inside. “After you!”

The four of them entered her room, Kinger leading the way with the lighter. Ragatha’s bedroom was… on brand. In the dim light, they could make out some plastic furniture that would have been right at home in a dollhouse. A pink, squat tea table surrounded by some plush and frilly cushions. The table came complete with an old fashioned white China teapot and cups, a glazed pink and yellow flower painted on the side of the pot, and the rims of both the cups and pot were lined with gold leaf (or at least a serviceable imitation of it). In the opposite corner, a CRT television sat within a yellow floral patterned hutch, and a game console was hooked up to it. Her bed sat neatly made on the far end of the room, a canopy like Pomni’s, although striped with magenta and cotton-candy pink rather than red and blue. At the food of the bed sat at least a dozen stuffed animals, a teddy bear, a camel, a tiger, and more, all in a neat pile. While they should have looked cute and inviting in the light, in the near dark, they looked uncanny. Their shoebutton eyes caught the flame’s reflection in such a way that made them look insectoid, and their vacant, pleasant expressions staring off into nothing gave off the impression of someone who had lost their mind gazing into the abyss.

Ragatha hurried over to the hutch, opening a drawer and taking out a brand new white candle.

“Here’s my stash,” she chuckled, rummaging around in the drawer a bit more. “I have a couple that are scented too. Do you guys like… apple cinnamon or toasted marshmallow more? I’m more of a sandalwood gal myself…”

Jax made a noise of disgust. Kinger stared intently at a stuffed elephant, as if waiting for it to blink.

“Nanny cam…?” he whispered to himself.

There was a crash of thunder and everyone jolted. Gangle covered the top of her mask with her ribbons and Kinger fumbled with the lighter, managing to keep hold of it.

“Good thing you have that, Jax. I just ran out of matches…” Ragatha sighed, setting up a neat cluster of candles

“Okay, um, I think we should use a couple to light the hallway, if it’s okay with you…at least until Caine fixes things.” Pomni said. “Um, and if I could borrow one or two for my room-”

“Me too please.” Gangle chimed in, raising a ribbon.

“I need to get my camping stove…” Kinger muttered, still engaged in a stare-off with Ragatha’s stuffed elephant.

“K-Kinger, you have a camping stove?” Pomni asked.

“The h@!! do you need one of those for?” Jax also asked, crouching beside Kinger to see what was so interesting about that and stuffed animal.

“…In case the power goes out.” Kinger replied after a moment.

“This is the first time the power has ever gone out…” Ragatha admitted, but she smiled anyway. “I’m glad you’ve been thinking ahead though.”

Ragatha then gasped. “Oh! We can make tea! I have the best recipe I need to show you guys! It’s perfect for a day like today!”

“I’d like some tea. Something warm to drink would really hit the spot.” Pomni said with a faint smile. Gangle also nodded.

“Hey, I got a suggestion too.” Jax called, raising a finger.

In one swoosh, Jax snatched the lighter out of Kinger’s hands, closing it with a clink and extinguishing their one source of light.

“Jax, hey! I can’t see!” complained Ragatha.

“My lighter, my rules. I’m heading back to my room.” he said.

“What…? Jax, you’re kidding. We need the lighter for just a little longer, then it’s all yours.” Ragatha insisted.

“It’s already all mine. You stole it. So now I’m keeping it.” Jax replied from somewhere in the dark.

“Jax, come on!” Pomni shouted. “Everyone could have light again if you would just-”

“Everyone will have light again when Caine gets the electricity working. Just be patient.”

“But… But Jax…” Gangle began, her voice quavering. “I’m… I’m scared of the dark, please just let us light a few candles…”

“Nope. Your eyes should adjust soon enough.”

The sound of Jax’s retreating footsteps and the open and shut of the door were muffled by another churning rumble of thunder. Ragatha sighed from her place in the dark.

“Well, don’t worry everyone. We can have a slumber party even in the dark. It’ll take a bit more time to set up and we can’t do as much, but-”

Everyone jumped at a sudden angry yell and thunk. Pomni punched the wall, then felt her way towards the door, throwing it open and stomping out into the hallway.

“Pomni’s very angry.” Kinger said in a hushed voice. Ragatha set her candles down on the hutch, a few of them rolling off and clattering to the floor as she carefully made her way to her door in almost complete darkness.

“Pomni? Pomni, where are you going?” she called out into the hall.

It wasn’t too difficult for Pomni to find Jax’s door feeling around in the dark, it was right across from her room, after all. Her right hand aching from punching the wall, she banged on his door with her left.

“JAX! GET OUT HERE!” she bellowed.

“Pomni, hey, it’s okay-!” Ragatha insisted, alarmed at the newest member’s sudden explosion of rage.

“NO! No, it’s not okay! I’m sick to death of him acting like this! It ends right the #%@& now, you hear me?!”

Pomni shouted all this as she feverishly twisted the handle of Jax’s locked door. After several mighty turns, she scoffed and took a few steps back.

“You wanna hide like a coward? Fine!”

“What’s going on?!” Zooble’s voice shouted. They had poked their head into the hallway after hearing the racket outside.

Pomni took another couple steps back until she was almost touching the opposite wall, then ran forward, barging Jax’s door with her shoulder. Thunder roared.

“Pomni!” Ragatha cried, her voice cracking. “Pomni, what are you doing?! Are you okay?!”

Pomni took the same number of steps backwards and ran forward, smashing into the door again, eliciting a splintery crunch from the jamb. She backed up once again, both her right shoulder and right knuckle ached now, but she barely felt it. Truth be told she couldn’t pinpoint just one reason why Jax’s behavior had enraged her so badly. She was angry from lack of sleep, she was angry that Jax was being such a selfish bully for no reason, she was angry that he had the capacity for kindness and yet chose to act like this-

Her rage burned blue-hot as she charged at the door, bracing her shoulder for impact. The impact never came. She sailed right past the point where she should have met hard wood, stumbling forward into a boneless somersault. She tumbled over herself and ended up in a sitting position.

Jax’s room had incredibly faint daylight filtering in from his window. The sky was still the color of a dusty tire, mostly black with flecks of lights. Flashbulbs of lightning popped from within swollen thunderheads.

Pomni heard the door shut behind her. In the faint light, she saw Jax turn the lock on his door before turning to look at her, arms crossed.

“You almost broke my door, newbie.” he said with almost parental condescension.

Pomni didn’t say anything in return, only glaring. Anger prickled down her back. Thunder boomed.

“You know what? Take it.” Jax took the lighter out of his pocket. It shined in the stormlight. “If you’re gonna throw such a hissy fit about something so tiny, you might as well have it so you don’t embarrass yourself more than you already have. Go on. I don’t want it anymore.”

Jax held his hand out, the lighter on his palm. Pomni reared back and slapped his hand away, the lighter bouncing off the wall with a weighty thud, doing a few midair loops and finally skittering to a stop a few feet behind her.

“What the h@&&?! I gave you what-”

“SHUT UP!!!”

Pomni barked this order with such ferocity that Jax immediately fell silent. It seemed to have shocked the jester herself, as she took a moment to find her voice afterwards.

“…Why? Why did you do that?” was all she managed to get out.

“I don’t like people touching my stuff.” came Jax’s reply. Despite his shock at being yelled at, he managed to keep his tone cool and even. There was a millisecond flash of lightning. Thunder rumbled.

“Not that. Just… why do you always..? I know you’re capable of being kind. I’ve seen it firsthand. They don’t do anything to you, Jax! So why do you just keep picking at everyone?”

“Because they let me.”

Pomni felt her anger froth to the surface again.

“Oh. OH. That makes perfect sense! So you’re cruel because you can be! Nice to know you’re just a sadist then! Ha! That saves me a lot of time, then! We’re through. Get outta my way.”

Pomni snatched the lighter off the ground and pushed past Jax.

“…I’m not a sadist.” he said without turning around.

“You just said you’re cruel to people for fun. That’s the definition of a sadist!” Pomni unlocked the door to his room and placed her hand on the knob.

“It’s not for fun.”

Her hand slid off the knob. There was a rolling growl of thunder.

“So what is it then?!” Pomni turned back to Jax, walking up to him and poking him in the chest. “You keep changing your story! First it was ‘I want them to hate me instead of their situation,’ now it’s ‘I do it because I can.’ So what is it? Tell. Me. The. TRUTH.”

“You want the truth, huh?” Jax said. Half of his face was silhouetted in shadow, his tone steeped in frosty ire.

“YES. Or you can forget about us. About all of this. It’ll be like we never met.” Pomni asserted.

“FINE.” Jax hissed. He turned to the window, looking out on the maelstrom of clouds and wind and rain. Another blinding flash of lightning and grumble of thunder.

“I… I hate myself.”

For a good 10 seconds, the only sounds were that of the rain on the digital grass and the wind buffeting Jax’s window.

“S-S-Say again?” Pomni finally asked.

“I hate myself.” Jax repeated, not taking his gaze off the storm. His affect was neutral, but his eyes were distant.

“You… hate yourself?” Pomni echoed.

“Yeah.”

The jester chewed on one of her gloves. A flicker of lightning and a softer, yet prolonged burble of thunder rolled across the grounds. She removed her glove from her teeth.

“How do I know that’s not a lie too?” she asked, looking intently at the floor.

“It’s not.” Jax immediately replied. “I guess, just, believe me.”

Pomni continued chewing on one of her gloves. She jumped a little at an especially loud crack of thunder, but otherwise remained rooted to the spot. An excruciating minute passed.

“…Okay. You hate yourself.” Pomni finally conceded, throwing her arms out and letting her hands slap against her hips. “So?”

This query got Jax to turn towards Pomni. The icy glare on his face could have shriveled flowers. “The £@€# do you mean, ‘so?’”

“Exactly what it sounds like.” Pomni shot back.

“So? You hate yourself so you treat everyone but me sometimes like trash?! What kind of excuse is that?”

The corner of Jax’s mouth twitched. She had prodded a nerve with that one. He turned back to the window, looking out on the storm-swept grounds.

“Get outta my room.” he ordered.

“No.” Pomni said with a humorless laugh. “You seriously think I’m gonna go ‘Oh you poor baby, I didn’t know; all is forgiven?’ just because you said you hate yourself? It doesn’t work like that! I hate myself too and I don’t act a FIFTH as awful as you do!”

“What do you mean, you hate yourself..?” Jax demanded quietly.

Pomni took a deep breath. Well, he had been honest with her. She waited for the latest boom of thunder to quiet down before continuing.

“I don’t remember everything about outside… but I remember that before I came here I… I was alone. I never went out drinking or dancing; I had no one to go with. Hadn’t kept in touch with my college friends and didn’t associate with anyone at work. How could I? I never had anything to talk to my coworkers about, I never reacted right to anyone’s jokes, I only went to team building exercises if they were mandatory… But it wasn’t like they didn’t try! I got invited to dinner or to birthday parties, and I always said no, I was busy. You wanna know what I was doing?”

“Pomni-” Jax began

“No! Ask me what I was doing!”

Jax didn’t reply. Pomni finally shrugged after a moment and answered her own question with a phony smile.

“Nothing. £@€# all. I was doing sudoku, or watching a movie I had already seen, or scrolling on my phone in bed. And I hated myself for it! I would cry into my pillow, I was so lonely! I would tell myself how stupid, stupid, STUPID I was, and how I was an idiot who didn’t deserve friends! I had every opportunity to get out of the hole I dug for myself, and I didn’t, because I was scared they would hate me even more than I thought they already did.”

Pomni felt her anger rise once again.

“Uh huh. But guess what? I never picked on anyone. I never made anyone else feel worse! I hurt so badly some days I wanted to DIE and I still tried my best to smile and treat everyone around me like a PERSON! You hate yourself? SO F#%&ING WHAT?! That doesn’t give you the right to make everything around you worse!”

Pomni panted, doubling over to catch her breath. She braced herself for some sort of projectile Jax might throw at her. Instead, he only stared at her before turning back to the window. Thunder rumbled.

“I’m… sorry you hate yourself. Really. It’s the worst feeling. But it’d be so much better if you just… didn’t hurt people. Let them in and helped you heal. It’s what I needed, and now that I have friends…”

Pomni stopped herself. She stared down at the floor again. She hated eye contact already, eye contact after an argument was like staring at the sun.

“So… why do you hate yourself?” Pomni asked after some more silence.

“What does it matter?” Jax replied.

Pomni scoffed. “Don’t give me that. Has it occurred to you that I actually care about you? If I didn’t, why would I even be asking? Why would I have kissed you after you made me salmon a few nights ago? I like you, Jax. But you can be a real p&!@% sometimes, and that isn’t okay, even if your pain is real. Why do you hate yourself?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jax said firmly.

Pomni let out a protracted sigh, chewing on the finger of one of her gloves and looking down at the floor one last time before looking back up at Jax. He was looking out at the storm.

“Okay. Thanks for at least giving me a real answer. I’ll bring your lighter back in a bit.”

Pomni headed for the door once again. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and she practically jumped out of her skin with a sharp gasp. She whirled around and took a few steps back, Jax pulling his hand back in shock.

“W-What?! Don’t… don’t touch me!” she snapped reflexively.

“…I’m…” Jax began.

Pomni crossed her arms and waited, looking everywhere but in Jax’s face.

“…I’m…” he tried again. “I’m not being… I’m not just being difficult. I don’t remember.”

Pomni quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t remember what?”

“Why. I don’t remember why I hate myself. It’s just gone. Poof, right along with my name.”

Pomni licked her lips. She was thirsty from all the shouting.

“You’re… being serious right now? You aren’t just trying to weasel your way-”

“No. No, I’m- I’m totally serious.”

Pomni managed to look into his eyes for a moment. They were big, but his pupils were tiny despite the extremely low light. Just the way he’d looked after she had seen him have a nightmare. Scared.

“…That’s horrible.” Pomni said, looking away after she began to feel itchy. “I… can’t imagine how horrible it must be to hurt and not know why… like a pain in a phantom limb.”

Jax didn’t say anything, looking back out at the window. Lightning flashed, a bright pink-white splinter across the clouds, and there was a tremulous rumble of thunder that followed.

“But… you shouldn’t take it out on people. Even if it makes the pain stop. There are other things you can do…” Pomni added. “And… And I’m willing to listen to you whenever you’re hurting. Even if I’m hurting too.”

Jax looked back at the jester, who immediately stared down at the floor.

“Why? You barely know me. You said it was so hard to make friends back in the real world. What makes me so special?”

Pomni swallowed. She really needed something to drink.

“I know. That it’s bizarre for me to like you when I’ve always had such a hard time. But… I want to help you anyway. Isn’t that weird?”

She managed a smile and to look him in the eyes again. Jax gave a short “heh…” and looked away this time.

“Thanks, Pompom.” he said.

“Anytime, Bunny-Boy.”

The two of them shared an awkward chuckle. Pomni cleared her throat.

“Um… do you want to come with me? I’m gonna go have tea with Ragatha and the others…”

“I think I’m okay…” Jax replied.

“Jax, come on. It’ll be fun… Please?”

Pomni offered a hand.

“Alright, alright. But only ‘cause you said please.”

Jax took the jester’s hand, Pomni sparking the lighter and leading the way back to Ragatha’s bedroom.

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #jax x pomni #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc #oh no cringe #tadc ragatha #autistic pomni

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jazeswhbhaven · 13 days

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We outside with a Bad Boy~ (Satan Attacker Prologue React Part I)

I would say *spoilers* but this card has been out for a minute now so lol FINALLY, A BIH POSTED THIS

So let me first say, thank you all for sticking around and waiting patiently for my reacts to start up again. Now that I've been getting my sources from the lovely mooties and oomfs with the addition that there's some down time lately for content with PB so now I can hurry up and post some shit before they start hitting us with Belphegor and the next chapter which I assume will be all at once. A simple two-parter! Grab yourself a smol snackie snack and let's gooo~

Belial bae <3 So today is a rare day for Gehenna where the devils don't need to fight any angels and instead, everyone's doing their part and cleaning up and little and the nobles are doing their part as well! As you see Belial/Jjyu here telling everyone to take it easy because it's pretty much a "day off".

So Paimon is strong asf because he picked up a pile of rocks which turned out to be a damn wall lmao Thank you Zagan my babes, <3 that is a wall and he shouldn't pick it up

But nah Paimon can pick my fat ass up with one hand and just hold me up if he can pick up a damn wall.

Lol look at Leraye....being cute as per usual and then we get Astaroth warning everyone to be careful what they wish for when it comes to chaos returning quickly to Gehenna. Like I'm with Ro here...because enjoy your day where you don't have to fight through flying debris, rubble, and having those nice ass homes destroyed in a blink of an eye because Gehenna is literally a fucking war zone 90% of the time. But where there's down time...there's chaos somewhere....

AND that's when we pan over to MC in Satan's palace....btw his conference room looks so official like I love it for Satan.

But we've got our three kings here and they've showed up for some reason. It's funny that we get to see why...

First...MC was asking a question about what's going on in each country as to why they're there at the same time. Levi hit 'em with the "stay out of grown folks business" and I wanted to swing on him immediately because no one asked you to get snarky.

he tests my patience every day i swear

Beel is just speaking plainly but MC brought up a good point where he's never away for a moment his ass is ALWAYS gone lmao

Bael is throwing punches in the air rn if he could hear Beel say this, I know he is sick of him

Yes. That is mine. All of it. Bring it to me.

*Ahem* wait what were we doing? Oh right ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

So Mammon is just confident that his nobles are handling it well while he's gone. I mean in the first couple of chapters we see that it's clearly Eligos and Valefor holding down the fort since Bimet goes everywhere with him.

I love how Sitri is just always annoyed as hell when it comes to people gathering around MC like this. But I mean I don't blame him because why are all of them there?

So Beel just straight up says he came there to go on a date with MC (he's so cute I love him, where we going bae?) and then he proceeds to grab them by their waist (gawdddddd) and then he does his thing where he's sniffin' up on their clothes.

we know damn well he has money he just spends it too much lmao so the buying clothes thing would definitely happen

FORAS BBY HI :D

so he whisks MC over to Levi, and he apologizes for grabbing them so suddenly. like i feel we don't deserve Foras because he's so nice and soft and I just want to squish him.

So Levi wants MC to come to Hades for a serious test reason (as if Levi we're on to you) and Beel is like ah so you wanna go on a date too. (clocked him that's most likely why lmao) and Levi gets irriated but he doesn't hang him.

I have my own theory on why he makes empty threats with the kings, and it's mostly because he likes interacting with them and doesn't really want to hang them unless they really piss him off. So empty threats are his communication with them and that's why they all keep calling him "Levi" for short lmao

So Mammon comes up with his reasons for having MC, and he says he's happy to see everyone get along and wishes the other three were there (so yeah I would assume he gets along with all the kings since he wants to be around them) and he calls Bimet forward. So my boujie noble is here saying that since Mammon is a pacifist he just wants to pay everyone for allowing MC to come to Tartaros since the country is swimming in money and they can afford any price tag. Proceeds to then say low key everybody broke asf so don't even try.

Levi and Foras take that personally as you can see them being irritated. LMAO Bimet is always gonna call someone a broke bitch it's a given.

Beel is so cute I swear because he literally does not care about what's going on with what the other kings said. As far as he's concerned MC is going on a date with him and everyone else has to wait their turn.

"That's fixed"

Damn right it is, like, you tell 'em Beel <3

Okay so Levi got some hands with this clapback because he said that with no remorse and with the quickness.

So imagine how tall Mammon is right, imagine that the room shook when he stood up like that and looked down at Levi.

He's smiling so he's not even being threatening he's just like :D hey Levi real quick...

So Mammon is basically telling him, that he needs to act correctly because MC belongs to Tartaros and therefore he needs to respect their wishes to come with him to spend the day together. Levi of course is irritated again because everyone keeps cockblocking him.

Look at this sneaky little devil, being all like "there's gonna be a war in this room so let's go" as if he didn't cause any of that by agitating Levi in the first place lmao (granted Mammon also has been blocking Levi too)

What's weird is that Mammon and Beel have been blocking Levi but Mammon hasn't really directed any of that energy toward Beel at all so it feels like a strange dogpile on Levi. But honestly it's tension all around this room to where MC is feeling a certain way about it and feels bad that they can't be in multiple places.

I love this banter so far between them because this is truly how they interact when it comes to claiming MC and it's going to be a real treat when the other kings start getting involved.

SO this ends part 1. See you all in part twooooooo <3

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb beelzebub #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb screenshots #whb attacker cards #whb stories #spoilers?#satan's showing up next but ya'll knew that probably

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neverevan · 1 month

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i'm ngl this is a big reason i would have preferred they just killed the bachelor party totally. i love buddie having fun but it felt rushed, like an idea they came up with before the crunch of the short season hit and something they didn't want to cut/compromise losing even though they didn't have the time to do it justice and it added nothing to the narrative. i loved the scenes and shenanigans but it also felt super out of character for both buck and eddie to be getting so drunk and irresponsible literally hours before a day they both would have cared a lot about going off smoothly for their friends and family. like buck was that uptight about the bachelor party but not his beloved sisters wedding??? he and eddie are both willing to trash his very expensive hotel room and let chimney wake up to that on his wedding day and didn't even bother to set an alarm? x to doubt. unless it was truly a reaction from buck getting cut out of any wedding planning or the wedding party and he was overcompensating it just doesn't sit right for me.

yeah I feel like there was more to the story about that party getting so out of hand, which I think would've became clearer if we had heard Buck's drunken ramblings to Eddie and not just the yet another uber advert lmao

but also don't forget that 1) the og party was meant to be karaoke and sliders with friends, it didn't look like getting totally shitfaced was on the agenda until everyone left and Buck and Eddie probably thought "well fuck, if they don't care, nor do we" which you can say it's out of character, but like... looking at all the goofy stuff they get up to when not being actively traumatised, I think it checks out, but I guess that's more of a personal taste kinda question.

cutting the party scenes wouldn't have made sense imo bc someone had to notice that Chim was gone and if we only got the boys waking up in the mess, that would've just left more questions (or if we flip the whole story and the news is found out differently than these two otherwise important characters need a whole another storyline to still be a part of the main one)

also from start to finish that entire thing (including the flashback when Chim tells Buck he doesn't want the party and up to the point of finding his empty room) was 5 minutes and 15 seconds — the rager being 1 minute 25 secs or so — personally, I think that is a very reasonable time slot to set up the story

yeah, I would've loved it to be a 2-parter instead of cutting all that out, but I also think the editors done a good job keeping in the important bits in and sometimes important bits barely move the story ahead, but provide relief from the stress of it all and that counts too

#buddie #911 #911 abc #ask #anon

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

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Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 36

It's such a treat to get sensible two-parters, look

And we're back! The cliffhanger is resolved by the Doctor sternly telling the gas mask zombies to go to their room because he's very cross, and they meekly do. This is actually a very clever way to get out of it, I think. It's nice when Moffat manages a genuinely clever twist.

Also, it means right before the opening credits roll, the Doctor breaks the tension by saying "I'm glad that worked, those would have been terrible last words." Eighteen years ago, in a student house in Rhoath, we shat ourselves we laughed so hard. Still a great line.

Anyway, fuck, this is SUCH a good episode. The plot is actually relatively brief (it turns out that ambulance Jack crashed here was full of medical nanogenes, and the first thing they found was a now-dead child still in a gas mask. But they'd never seen a human before, so they 'healed' him to a zombie creature. Now they're trying to heal all humans. The reason they're asking for their mam is because it's Nancy! Not his sister after all.) But, the episode contains multiple repeated creepy scenes to fill in for the lack of plot, and they're all bangers and all undercut with just the right amount of humour to be a foil. Love the Doctor replacing Jack's gun with a banana. Love the line "Rose, I'm trying to resonate concrete." Love Rose discovering that the future of the human race is to fuck its way across the stars and that Jack has probably fucked a space squid. All great

It's just a shame about all the cringeworthy sex and romance talk disguised as a dancing metaphor. That made me wince two decades ago and time has not made it better. Even editing doesn't give Moffat the ability to write anything romantic that doesn't feel like unsettling wet noodles. Sometimes, being synaesthetic is a curse.

Ultimately Nancy tells the Bluetooth zombie that she's his Mam and the nanogenes realise her DNA is the correct one. This means there's an absolutely delightful bit where Christopher Eccleston throws his whole pussy into yelling "Just this once, Rose, everybody lives!" and the day is utterly saved. It's true, that is rare. I am still haunted by Horror of Fang Rock. What an awful story. Never forget poor Vince.

This means Richard Wilson lives!

"Uh, all your patients will in fact be fully healed," the Doctor says. "Just quietly take credit and send them along."

"Doctor!" says a random woman. "My leg's grown back! When I came to hospital I only had one!"

"Well, there is a war on," says Richard Wilson, with devastating comedic delivery. "Is it possible you miscounted?"

And then Rose and the Doctor rescue Jack before his ship blows up, and then the episode ends EXACTLY ONE SECOND after Jack enters the TARDIS, yes that's right, there is NO MORE OF THE EPISODE. They most certainly did not ruin this incredible story with one of the most nauseating and awful scenes in televisual history that still gives me bone-creaking second-hand embarrassment. Nope. It ends when Jack walks in. He says "It's bigger on the inside" and we all just... move on. We're done. The end. Tidy.

Anyway!!! Only one new plot thread, I think - Jack reveals at one point that he used to be a Time Agent, but they stole two years of his memories. Exciting!!! That has also happened to the Doctor. I wonder if it's related?

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up (unless she’s Missy. NEW INFO: she is definitely not blown up)

The TARDIS has blown up (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole

(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)

Why is Amy’s pregancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?)

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory?

Is Rory plastic or not?

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

How did the Doctor forget Clara?

Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?

How did Nardole die?

When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?

When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?

Whittaker is falling to her death rn

Was that ring relevant?

Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?

When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?

When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?

What’s happening with the bees?

What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?

What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?

What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”

If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?

How did the rest of the Time Lords die?

How and why did Amy melt?

What’s the question that will make silence fall?

Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?

How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?

How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?

What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?

Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?

What happened with the space whale?

When does Rory defend Amy for 2000 years?

How does the Doctor survive River

How does he erase himself from history

Did Captain Jack lose his memories to the same people as the Doctor? What did he lose?

#doctor whom #and yet we are continuing

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aprillikesthings · 2 months

Text

oh god oh god

HEY GUESS WHAT I'm down to the last two episodes of She-Ra in my rewatch

On a related note, should you desire to read them all starting from s1ep1 for some godforsaken reason, here's the link. Please be amused at my claims that I would not do this for every episode and my repeated attempts to cut back on how much I copy/paste dialogue and/or explain the entire plot instead of just making jokes and commentary

If, somehow, you are New Here, I've been rewatching all of the 2018 She-Ra, ostensibly for fic-writing reasons as I had forgotten huge quantities of the plot. I have since become deeply obsessed, as one does.

I make a lot of adult jokes, random asides, references to other things, commentary, and a lot of cursing and crying. I love Catradora and I love Catra especially and have a tendency to add a screenshot every time they so much as look at each other. It seems silly to warn for spoilers at this point, but yeah, this is a RE-watch. It's just that I forgot a lot of it because I watched it the first time as it was coming out (pun intended). The shit I did remember is so fucking random tho lol

The last time I tried to do a two-parter in one post the number of times I had to reblog it because tumblr only allows 30 images per post got real stupid, so while I do still assume I will have to reblog multiple times per episode, I'm doing each episode separately.

HERE WE GOOOOO

s5 ep12 Heart (pt 1)

jfc i'm full of adrenaline lol

Also I have a beer, it's a citrus IPA because I live in Portland and it's required by law

(not really I just genuinely like them. that and IPA's that taste like gnawing on a douglas fir. also fruit sours.)

LOL I was so anxious I looked away from this post and consumed most of my beer this is gonna be hilarious

ALSO my goal is to finish these two episodes before the Easter Vigil service tomorrow night at 8pm

Theoretically I should be able to watch two episodes of TV in a day and a half, right? AHAHA

Bow should play Wonderwall

she always looks so soft with her hair down

but also having that thing just floating in front of your chest like that has gotta feel weird

ON A RELATED NOTE I know I made the joke in the last episode about how many people have the failsafe as a tattoo but the PROBLEM is that now I literally LIVE with a tattoo artist whose work I like--I already have two tattoos they've done, here and here, and the temptation is extremely high?? but I don't have any other obvious fandom-related tattoos (unless you count the title of a Björk song) so it feels weird to start with this one???? Like I don't have any LoTR or BBC Sherlock or SU or K/DA tattoos (to list off a bunch of fandoms I was devastatingly obsessed with at the time) so getting one for THIS fandom feels kinda weird. But like, also, if I got it kinda small on one wrist it would look kinda cool and be a nice loud DID U KNOW I'M GAY kinda thing. Gyahhh.

She's struggling to do She-Ra, and I'm sitting here YELLING because IT'S BECAUSE CATRA LEFT and UGH I want to murder Shadow Weaver

(eyyyy I won't have to, ha ha oh god)

Oh she manages to transform anyway. Without making any noise or glowing lights, just pop, She-Ra

awwww but also lol

related aside but like, every culture that figured out bows and arrows invented at least one kind of string instrument. Literally archers just fidgeting with their bows and going "oh this makes a nice sound, what if I put more strings on this thing." So many different places and cultures invented things like a guitar or like a harp or like a violin. But also I want to know who the FUCK figured out the hurdy-gurdy??? oh my god I just looked up the hurdy-gurdy and I'm cracking up because one of the earliest depictions of it is from the 1100's, in the Santiago de Compostela cathedral. A place I have been. Because I did the Camino last year.

oh right plot

I would like to take a moment and be grateful for the people who put together the transcripts on the fandom wiki for saving me typing up long bits of lore-heavy dialogue

She-Ra: "Prime is getting closer every day to figuring out how to access the Heart of Etheria. If he succeeds, he can use it to destroy worlds, galaxies, maybe even the entire universe. The Failsafe is our only chance at stopping him."

"His hold over them grows stronger every day they're chipped. If we don't free them now, we might lose them forever. Prime holds every advantage in this fight. He'll be ready for us. But we have a plan. Entrapta?" Entrapta: "I finally succeeded in cracking Prime's signal pattern. If I get access to his Spire network, I can use it to broadcast a jamming frequency that will disable all of the chips on Etheria, freeing everyone at once!" She-Ra: I need you all to get Entrapta to the Spire and keep Prime's forces distracted while she jams the signal."

"We're going to make sure that Prime can never hurt anyone ever again. We're ending this today. For good."

oh lord so Shadow Weaver is still there, sulking and looking away, and she looks over at her and starts almost losing She-Ra and being Adora again

have I mentioned how much I hate Shadow Weaver >:(

Adora goes outside...and looks around. I know who she's looking for. *sobs into a pillow*

NO. she's LOOKING for her GIRLFRIEND

I made that joke and then Glimmer literally says "Any sign of Catra?" I have to remember that at this point in the story literally everyone knows how in love they both are. Except them. Of course.

Adora: "She's not coming back." ;_;

Adora: I mean you don't have to come with me this could be dangerous Bow: the fuck are you talking about of course we're going

And she turns into She-Ra again, roll intro

Okay so they go to the Crystal Castle thing where Light Hope was

it doesn't look so good

but also that's creepy

anyway they tell the hologram (not Light Hope, the other one) that they're looking for the Heart of Etheria and that they're Friends of Mara. She-Ra gets scanned and then a door opens into a passageway. Bow and Glimmer take her hands and they walk into the hall but:

she's still looking for someone

I have to deal with another episode and change of her looking for Catra ghghggh this hurts meeeee

OH SO OF COURSE they literally switch to showing us Catra

bahaha okay so she sits up and looks behind her kind of sadly, and Melog just skids to a stop so hard they throw Catra off

And Melog looks at Catra like she's fucking nuts. Catra's like, wtf is wrong with you??? and Melog looks back like BITCH WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU??? Catra what did you think was going to happen when you got a therapy animal that can literally read your moods. Melog knows you're being a dumbass and has NO reason to pretend to believe your surface "I don't give a shit" act!!

Melog does airplane ears at that. And then just pounces Catra.

Time for pressure! Just like a real therapy animal. Big weighted blanket!

oh shit I forgot about this bit

Catra just immediately starts crying.

Catra: "You saw what happened! Adora chose Shadow Weaver, okay? Not me!"

*sobs into hands* you useless fucking dumbass that is your abysmally low self-esteem talking literally every living semi-sentient thing in the galaxy knows Adora's in love with you EXCEPT YOU

I can get frustrated with AU fics where these two both pull this "but what if she doesn't like me back" thing for ages while everyone around them is face-palming in frustration, but like. You have to admit. It's accurate to canon.

(It's also accurate to lesbians in general, lbh. Either fucking on the first date or doing the "but what if she's not into me" thing for months-to-years. Sometimes both, including in some of the fics I've written, heyooooo.)

Melog purrs and licks her face. A clone approaches and they both go invisible and then follow it.

MEANWHILE

the rest of the rebellion is attacking Horde Prime's ship thing

Wrong Hordak helps Entrapta get into the spire. The whole point of this fight (which I didn't bother screenshotting lol) is to give Entrapta time to disconnect everyone's chips from Horde Prime.

Lol once inside Entrapta does another one of those "holy shit this stuff looks so cool...OMG FOCUS" things

Back at the Crystal Castle Glimmers like "omg are you scared" and She-Ra says "No, I just hope this works." Liar.

Bow: "It'll be okay. And when we get back, it'll be a whole new world."

this poor girl. she's so heartbroken.

(meanwhile the plot of my fic-in-progress is literally them breaking up. (not forever.) but it's hilarious of me to get SO UPSET over this scene when I'm going to force them to repeat it. like it's a mutual decision in my fic but it doesn't make it hurt any less.)

PFFT I unpaused it, and IMMEDIATELY:

I just said OH SHIT out loud lol

oh god I saw someone talking about this in a youtube video right around when I started my rewatch

It's a hologram, she's not actually there. And Catra goes through multiple other ages, including her kid self, being chipped on Horde Prime's ship, when they were Horde cadets, etc; before going back to looking like she does now.

Adora's sharp little gasp of shock here

Adora goes to touch Catra's hand and the hologram disappears

(good lord she's beautiful here)

And I think I agree with the youtube video: Adora knew she was upset about Catra running off, but this is the moment she specifically realizes she's in love, and it breaks her heart into tiny pieces.

(Hah, I actually say a very similar thing in part of my fic that they mention in the video--that previous to this, she refused to let herself want this or even think about it. "I didn't even realize this was something I could want.")

BUT ALSO so like is this a remnant of Light Hope's programming that tortured them with childhood flashbacks in season one (in order to drive them apart) or what

LOL NO

I know I made this joke before but I'm suing Nate for emotional damages

She-Ra: "We need to be careful. It looks like this place can still project memories."

oof

A still-invisible Catra follows the clone to where Horde Prime's ship is and is visibly terrified and shaking. A clone who might be Hordak turns around with that white in his eyes that means Prime is using him to see, and Catra just tries to be quiet and not move but she's obviously triggered, and I mean that in the literal PTSD sense.

Horde Prime (via Hordak?): "My brothers. The time has come at last. No longer shall She-Ra stand in my way."

oh okay so Horde Prime's actual ship is still in space (just orbiting Etheria I assume) and the planet-side thing is him speaking through one of the clones via the hive mind.

"Begin the acquisition process!"

are they just gonna straight-up drill into it?

apparently yes

the whole area lights up with that sickening green light, including all the lines that characters kept noticing on the ground that looked like some combo of circuit boards and First Ones' writing.

meanwhile, Adora keeps slipping out of being She-Ra for split seconds and is clearly stressing The Fuck Out and possibly walking in the wrong direction in her distress, only to walk into another memory/hologram.

And I've predictably hit the image limit, but 13:30 to go which is better than last night pfft okay gonna reblog

#april rewatches spop #heart pt 1

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