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jadenlix · 10 months

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Camping at what cost?

Pairing: leeknow x afab!reader x Hyunjin

Summary: You have had feelings for Lino for a while, but recently feelings for Hyunjin have started to grow. Unsure of what to do, you make them both aware of the situation, but on a summer camping trip, you take with your eight friends. things become harder, yet clearer.

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Lino is a biker. Dom!Lino, sub!reader. very jealous lino, sappy in love Hyunjin, porn with a plot, foul language, exhibitionism, degradation kink AND praise kink, motorcycle Sex, fingering, finger sucking, genital slapping, Unprotected sex (wrap that willy y’all), spanking, orgasm denial, teasing, hickies, breeding (the reader is on birth control) words used like slut, whore, baby, sweetheart, pretty.

Word count: 4.2K

(lightly edited)

(Author note; this is my first proper fic on here! I’m a ex role player, aspiring author and have wrote previous fics before, please be kind :)) but also I’m completely open to suggestions on how to make things better! Requests are indeed open!! Enjoy this fic!)

“How the fuck do I do this”

You turn slightly to see Chan struggling to put up one of four tents the group of you brought to the creek.

It was late July, hot sticky weather with a little breeze if you were lucky. The guys had two weeks break until they had to start preparing for the next comeback. So, Lino had suggested the 9 of you go camping. Which you were down for. You loved going camping, especially with Lino.

You and Lino weren’t exactly official, nor were you exactly unofficial. The others knew something was going on, Changbin caught on first, noticing how you’d regularly visit dance practices. But only paid close attention to Lino, smiling to yourself as you watched him get aggressive with dancing as the practice went on. What Changbin hadn’t noticed, was that your eyes also drifted towards Hyunjin. He moved like water, only much more sensually. You couldn’t explain the attraction, but his dancing was the first thing that caught your eye. You knew he was attractive in his looks, that part was obvious, but his talents, personality, and overall sense of humanity had made him that much more attractive.

“I would help you, but I had to get Bin to help me with mine,” you say directed toward Chan, placing your hands on your hips, exhaling heavily.

“Then why are you sweating” Chan groaned, standing up straight to look at you with sour eyes.

“It’s hot Chan, that’s why I’m sweating”.

You wipe your forehead as gracefully as you could, heading over to the few coolers you had prepared. “Does anyone want a drink?”

As you had expected, all eight guys replied with a yes. You take your time with grabbing the cans out, making sure to position them correctly so they wouldn’t fall when handing them out.

“Need a hand?” you recognize the voice questioning you, smiling to yourself briefly before looking up at the man.

“shouldn’t you be helping Chan; he’s losing his mind” You hand him some of the cans

Hyunjin shook his head, “Changbin is going to help him, It took me long enough to do mine and Seungmin’s, let alone Chans as well”

You shrug “I just let bin do mine, said I’d pay him in smores later” You chuckle as you head back to the others to hand out the drinks. It was a well-known fact you were pretty damn good at making smores. Camping? No, but making stereotypical camping food? Right down your alley. That was probably why lino allowed you to tag along with him so much.

You and Hyunjin hand out the drinks to the others and meet back at the cooler to get your own drinks. Leaning against Changbin’s truck.

“Maybe this should be the first and last time we all go camping together” you suggest, taking a much-needed gulp of your drink. “Or at least next time we shouldn’t do it during summer”.

You watched as Hyunjin nodded, running his hand through his hair, he looked as though he was basking in the sunlight. He looked so comfortable in the wilderness, you couldn’t explain why, perhaps it was because his hobbies were so naturalistic. He had already walked around the area near the creek to collect photos for reference.

He did ask you to join him, but you declined as Lino had already asked you to take a look around the woodland area around the campsite you all had booked out. He had mentioned on the ride up here that there was a small waterfall nearby. So, both of you took off before setting up the tents. But no luck in finding it.

“Did you get enough photos earlier?” you asked, pushing yourself off the truck to stand in front of him. He nods, opening his eyes to look at you.

“I got plenty” he starts, pushing himself off the truck also, standing so he stood over you more now, “I would have preferred you to of been in them”.

You swallow, your eyes leaving him to look at your feet. “I already had plans to with Lino” Your response was hesitant. You knew Hyunjin liked you, he had come clean about his attraction to you a few weeks ago. You took a few days to properly respond to his confession. You knew you felt that way too, but also had it with Lino and had already confessed to him. It was a tricky situation to be in. You had no idea what to do about it. You knew polyamory was a thing, but it wasn’t your thing.

“We can go a bit later yeah?”

He responds with a nod, “Yeah, you sure Lino will be okay with it?” he teased.

“Shut up” you shake your head, turning to make your way back over to the others.

Luckily the others had finished putting up their tents by the time you both returned to the campgrounds.

“Is it too early to put the campfire up?” Changbin asked, looking around the group of you.

“I guess not, me and Y/N were planning to head into the woods for photos, we could get some wood whilst we’re looking around” Hyunjin suggests, sitting down on one of the fold-up chairs.

“You are?” Lino looks at you, his brows slightly furrowed with questions waiting to be answered. He wasn’t stupid, he knew he was practically competing with his close friend for you. And you hated that you were coming between them. Sometimes you just wished they would take it upon themselves to decide for you.

You just nod in his direction, he looks away, clearly annoyed. You felt bad, but there was no way you could win in this situation, someone was going to get hurt no matter what you did. It was a wise choice, to just figure out what you wanted before both of them get tired of waiting and lose interest.

“Y/N, come here” Lino called you over to him, and you obliged. When you reached arm’s distance from him, he reached out and grabbed your hand with haste. Pulling you gently toward his parked motorcycle.

He says nothing as he hands you the helmet he got you for Christmas last year, so you take it without saying anything, holding it for the brief second it took for him to grab his, putting it on. “we’re going for a ride”.

“Where to?” you ask, placing your helmet on, and getting behind him on the bike once he got on.

“you’ll see”.

The drive was quiet, and neither of you spoke, you were hoping it was just because the pair of you just wanted to take in the sights, but you did that together whilst talking, on the way up here. So, you knew it was because Lino felt some sort of way.

The sign at the base of the hill he was driving up said it was a viewpoint, perhaps he just wanted to talk about making things official.

Once he had parked and the pair of you got off the bike. You look up at him, questioning why he had taken you here.

His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking the area. “I don’t like that you’re hanging out with him more as the weeks go on” he admits with a sharp tongue.

You tilt your head into his hand more, keeping your eyes on his “But you know the situation Minho” you sounded soft, trying to defuse the tension. “I’ve been open with you, I’ve told you everything” It was true, you had told him everything, and communication was very good in whatever relationship you had.

“I know, but now I’m being open with you, I don’t like it” he takes his hand away from your face now.

You pout in response, half because of the loss of contact, half because he was making this hard for you. “I don’t know how to choose, I don’t want to choose, I’d rather this not be a whole thing”

He inhales deeply, looking around the area. Checking for any movement before he performed his next move.

His hands came up and around your ass, lifting you slightly to sit sideways on his motorbike. He stood between your legs, tilting your head up to allow your lips to graze against his. His breath felt hot against you, his eyes meeting yours once more, asking for permission. You respond by leaning up to press your lips to his. The kiss started slow and passionate, his lips felt tender against yours, but his tongue contrasted that by becoming desperate for an opening, grazing your bottom lip for entry. The kiss became filled with desperation, you lift your left leg to clamp around Lino’s waist. Both hands resting on his shoulder, nails digging gently as if you were trying to get him closer to you if that were possible. You felt him groan into the kiss, before tearing himself away from your lips, peppering kisses down the side of your jaw, down to your neck, sucking and kissing the spot just above your collarbone. You let out a small, yet tasteful moan, leaning your head back to allow him more access, causing your chest to press more into him.

As his tongue dances along your shoulder, you feel his hand beginning to creep down between your legs, unbuttoning your shorts, and pushing underneath the clothing. His hand cupping your pussy whilst he continues to leave his mark on you.

“Oh my god,” you groan softly, the mixture of light pleasure fuelling your craving for him. His middle finger began rubbing slowly and gently against your clit, applying only the tiniest amount of pressure, leaving you wanting more.

He pulled his lips away from your shoulder to watch how your face contorted into an expression of lust, “you like that?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“more” you reply with urgency. You needed more from him. More movement, more anything. You just needed it.

His movement stopped, “such a desperate whore” he muttered, pulling his hand out of your shorts, and bringing his fingers to your lips “Open your mouth for me” he asked, and you obeyed immediately, parting your lips for him to slide his middle and ring finger into your mouth.

“There you go” he hummed as he watched you take his fingers like you’ve done it a million times with his cock. “Good job sweetheart”

His cock twitched as he felt your tongue parade around his fingers, God how he wanted to replace his fingers with his cock. But to Lino, this was about you, this was about proving to you how much more he could give you. How he could make you feel so much better than Hyunjin ever could.

Lino pulled his fingers from your lips, his hands making their way down to your shorts again, tapping your hips. You obliged, lifting them so he could remove the clothing. Watching him as he fell to his knees. Lifting your left leg to rest on his shoulder. His thumbs massage gently against your inner thigh.

He leans forward, placing a small kiss against the plush skin of your thigh, “Look” another kiss. “At” He looks up at you through his eyelashes, in awe of how desperate you look, placing one final kiss over your clothed clit “You”.

Your hips bucked in response to the delicate pressure from his lips. “Lino...” you say under your breath, your right hand moving to rest in his hair, the ginger colour reflected the sun’s rays perfectly. Besides the obvious knot, in your stomach, you couldn’t help but pause to admire his dark eyes appearing like honey in the sunlight.

“What?” he asked, noticing how you were briefly lost in thought.

“Oh, I was-” A slight sting was felt against your clit, the pleasure causing a soft moan from you.

“Oh, did that take you by surprise?” he asked, the corners of his lips turning upwards into a smirk.

You didn’t know how to respond, just entranced by how Lino was being, of course, you knew he had a dominant side, but neither of you had fully explored that side of the other. So, this was exciting, to say the least.

“Please do something” you finally speak, you were truly desperate for him to do something.

He cocked his head to the left, furrowing his brows slightly “But why should I put that effort into you if you’re just going to run to Hwang?” he had control in this situation, and he was right.

You had nothing to say, you were putty in his hands right now. All on show for his eyes to see. The dampness of your underwear creates the most beautiful outline for Lino to keep his eyes on. His tongue traces his bottom lip as he studies the beauty that is you.

Without any words being spoken, he loops two fingers under your underwear, pulling them to the side to allow the fresh, cold air to hit you. You hiss slightly in response, but not in discomfort.

In pleasure.

He smirks lightly, watching the way your pussy pulsed as a reaction. He was obsessed with it. He couldn’t mentally hold himself back anymore, he had planned to make you wait, but now he was just as desperate as you, just as needy.

Within a few seconds, his lips had fit perfectly around your clit, sucking only slightly as his tongue slowly flicked up, massaging that perfect spot.

“f..fuck Lino” You lean your head back as you let out the most desperation-filled moan. You needed this. He needed this. The way his tongue danced around the slit of your cunt was practically magical, hitting every spot perfectly. The more intense his movements got, the more your chest rose and fell.

All that time he was staring up at you with those gorgeous eyes, God you looked divine to him, your noises were like ecstasy to him. He loved how easily he could make you squirm.

“I know your body inside and out sweetheart” he spoke when he pulled away briefly. Pushing his middle and ring finger gently inside of you, curling them up.

You were being undone by him. He had all the control, and you loved it.

His tongue met your cunt once more. The combination of his fingers and his tongue sent shivers down your spine. He had you here, a moaning mess on his motorbike, in the middle of nowhere. Your hands began tugging on the fistful of hair you had grabbed. Earning a low grunt from him.

“oh, my fucking god, fuck I’m close” you whine out, rolling your hips in a pattern with his movements.

He watched as you got closer and closer to cumming. He watched out for the signs, the way your mouth fell open, your hand tugging harder at his hair, how your perfect chest hilted as you held your breath in preparation.

And he stopped.

You looked at him defeated; your cunt desperate to be touched by him. He just stood from the ground, watching you with humor.

“Oh sweetheart” he purred. “If you want to act like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one”.

That got you excited, unsure what he exactly meant by that, what it entailed. He wasn’t going to let you cum.

He helped you down from the bike gently, turning you around to face away from him. His fingers started to trail slowly down your neck, moving the strap of your vest down. His lips left many sultry kisses after his fingers. Leaving your chest exposed.

You let out a breathy moan, the feeling of his fingers delicately prancing around your skin felt incredible.

His hand moved to squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple, his other hand then laid flat against your back running down your spine, lightly pushing you down, as his finger rolled around your nipple. Eventually being made to bend over the motorcycle. You felt the blood rush to your face, feeling his hands begin to massage your upper thighs.

“Is this what you want? To be bent over? Fucked like a whore?”

You nod, humming in response.

The sting of a slap against your ass “fuck...”

“I asked you a question y/n” he spoke, pressing himself against your ass, leaning down to your level, and nipping the lobe of your ear “Come on pretty, I expect you to answer me”.

“Yes... yes, I want it, please Lino” you whimper, noticing your shorts pooling around your ankles, you quickly kick them to the side.

You hear the zipper of his pants undo. Your heart began racing with each minor movement he made. The sound of his pants being pulled down was followed by his fingers once again arriving at your mouth. “spit” he ordered. And you obeyed, spitting down onto his hand.

Soon enough, his cock was lubed with your saliva. Soft groans escaped his perfect mouth as he tugged at himself. His other hand moved your underwear to the side once again.

The glorious mixture of your breathless moans and his moans of relief echoed throughout the woodland area, your hands clinging to whatever they could. The feeling of him stretching your cunt so perfectly. “Oh fuck” Lino groaned, his head falling back slightly, holding himself still for a short duration whilst you got comfortable. His hand rubbed up and down your back, as he stayed there “Good job baby” he whispered, sliding his hand round to your waist, holding on to it as he pulled out until just the tip laid inside you, rubbing your side in circles with his thumb before pushing back into you with force. His fingertips dug into your skin as his cock pulsated inside you. You were like his own personal drug.

“Oh fuck, god yes, feel so good baby” Lino grunts, “shit”. His hand moved from your breast to gather a fistful of your hair, pulling hard enough to make your head follow. Just enough so he could admire how you looked.

Your mouth felt open, moans being the only thing escaping, nose scrunched, eyebrows raised. His cock fit perfectly inside you, your stomach in knots as you embrace the feeling of him taking every inch of you, you were relishing in the sex. His cock hits your G-spot repeatedly.

His dominant demeanor fuelled your need to be fucked by him in whatever way he wished. You wanted him to use you in every way.

“Shit, darling” he groaned, stilling inside you for a brief second, pulling out slightly only to slam right back into you, stopping once again. “You liked getting fucked like this?”

“Yes, fuck yes” you speak in between whines. You didn’t exhibit the ability to form proper sentences right now.

“I know darling” he purred, his voice softer, soothing you almost, a far cry from his harsh and rapid thrusts. “I know”

You felt amazing, fitting like a glove around his cock. His girth wasn’t something you were a stranger to, but it always took you by surprise when the pair of you went at it. And God didn’t you get at it like you’d never fucked before.

“You like getting fucked like the whore you are huh?” he groaned deeply. His hand moves from your waist to start rubbing your clit. His other hand made its way to your throat, pulling you up so your back laid perfectly against his front “Dirty little slut, all mine” he moaned directly into your ear. His hand tightens around your throat, just loose enough to allow oxygen to your lungs.

You let out the most beautiful moan he had ever heard, in reaction to his new position. Your legs spreading to allow him more access. Hitting spots, he wasn’t hitting prior.

“Oh, my fucking god, f…fuck” You felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You knew you needed release soon. You hoped Lino also needed it. You didn’t want to be denied that again.

“Sound so pretty for me, my pretty” his moans became more common than his words. He was fucking you stupid, but you were making him pussy dumb, his brain filled with you, and your warmth wrapped around his cock.

His thrusts became more rushed, your swollen clit was beyond sensitive to touch. You were both at your max, neither of you knowing if you were coming or going.

“Mm, fuck I’m close” you whimper, your hands finding their way up to hold onto the arm that had been tight around your neck.

“Yeah?” a whine, he whined. You had almost lost it at that. ”Gonna fill you up so good baby” he moaned into your ear, his thrusts getting sloppier but his fingers still moving with perfect elegance against your clit.

“Cum inside me, please” your begging now, cock dumb, in the middle of the woods, out in the open.

“Oh sweetheart, I was planning on it”

His moans began getting louder as your walls clenched even tighter around him, the knot in your stomach at breaking point.

“Fuck, cum, cum for me baby”

And just like that, you became undone, your legs shaking as you let out a scream of pleasure, feeling Lino coat your wails with his warm cum. He stills his hips, but his fingers kept moving, pushing you through your orgasm. His hand left your neck to hold you up as your legs seemingly began to give way.

“f,f, fuck” you stutter as you try to catch your breath, nails digging into his arm as you attempt to hold yourself up but fail in doing so. Lino holds you up, kissing your shoulder before placing you onto the seat of his bike again.

He takes no more than 10 seconds to pull up his jeans, quick to kneel back in front of you, massaging the sides of your thighs gently, placing a gentle kiss on each one. “You did so good darling”

You smile down at him, but quickly hide your face, the realisation that you both had just fucked, rather loudly, in the middle of a public forest.

He grabs your shorts, helping each foot through before pulling the clothing up to your thighs. “You think you can stand for a few seconds?”

“You have high expectations of yourself huh?” you said playfully.

He looks at you with an ‘oh sure’ expression. Your legs were still shaking so you attempt to stand, holding his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls your shorts up, zipping and buttoning them up.

“You were saying?” he joked back, placing a kiss on your shoulder, fixing the strap of your vest after.

He was looking at you with those sweet honey eyes again, tilting your chin up so he could place his lips against yours once more.

But this kiss felt different, there was something different about this kiss, and you couldn’t pinpoint it straight away. But as his hand moved from your chin to your cheek, cupping it gently, it hit you.

You loved him. Your heart had picked. It was Lino.

You pull away only enough to look him in the eyes. You smile. He smiles back.

“Lino, I”

“I know” he smiles, pecking a kiss on the tip of your nose, “but we need to talk to him first”

And that was what you were afraid of. Breaking the news to Hyunjin.

You were still confused, you loved Lino, but you did have feelings for Hyunjin. But perhaps they were temporary, they’d probably go away eventually.

After a few moments of just enjoying each other’s presence. You suggested the pair of you should probably make your way back to the camp. It had started getting dark, and neither of you wanted them to worry.

The ride back was better than the ride up. You found yourself holding onto him tighter than ever before, resting your head on his back, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder at times. There was no way of finding out why your heart had chosen Lino, but God you were glad it did.

Once you returned, the others were set up around the campfire, making food by the smell of it.

“And where have you two been?” Felix questioned, noticing you both appear from behind Changbin’s truck.

“We needed to talk, away from you guys” he answered with a small grin. He was happy, and that made you happy. You and Lino sit beside each other in front of the campfire, your arm linked with his.

But you felt eyes on you, practically burning into your soul, you look up and see Hyunjin staring at you with hurt in his eyes. Shit.

“Minho, can we talk?” Hyunjin asked, standing up from his previous seated position.

You and the other 6 boys stared between the both of them, not particularly wanting to get involved.

Lino nods, obviously understanding the severity of it. He presses a last gentle kiss to your cheek.

“I love you” he whispers.

“I love you too” you reply.

You watch nervously as the two guys walk off toward the cars. The other 6 turned to look at you, appearing concerned and confused

You were happy now, but at what cost?

#straykids smut #skz smut #Leeknow smut #skz x reader #Leeknow × reader #stray kids fic #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #jadenlix smut #jadenlix

#straykids smut #skz smut #leeknow smut #skz x reader #leeknow x reader

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ginxparker · 1 year

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Ghost Drink Scale

i like this headcanon that lives in my mind, that Ghost is a excelent drinker, but a terrible one if we are talking about tequila.

So obv one day, los vaqueros bring tequila to a kinda off party that 141 is having (except there is no music, only a bunch of dudes in small circles chatting, drinking and being loud -and sometimes a little fight, but is all friendly).

141 knows for a fact that Ghost is a awful tequila guy, that is gonna drive someone insane that night, and give everybody headche tomorrow, but the AleRudy have never seen Ghost even tipsy so they dont belive that this is possible. In some way, Gaz convince Soap to prove for the couple that Ghost is indeed a horrible tequila drinker.

So Soap offered LT a drink and the mask man did not refuse while being swip by the nice talker.

And from that day they ended up creating a scale of how much Ghost can change with a glass of tequila:

One Drink Simon: He does space out more frequently, nothing too alarming for now.

Two Drink Simon: He is loud. You can hear his voice across the street. And he dont volume down if you ask, he only whispers loud and in seconds is being loud again.

Three Drink Simon: Extremely confident. He passes to flirt non-stop with Soap, witch makes Jhonny go red. Rudy is dying of laugh with Gaz, and he just promeses that makes better. Four Drink Simon: He speaks all in any language, but none of them are English. Seven of the ten sentences the group can decipher are profanity (Simon is a real potty mouth with tequila on his head), two are something inexplicable about Soap, and one is a dead mystery because they are 100% sure the language doesn't exist (it is dead Latin, and it's a recipe that reminds him of his family).

Five Drink Simon: He's kind of bummer. He is very sad. He doesn't cry, but he will question the existence of life with himself, that nothing should matter because everyone is going to die, and before he gets to damn emotional, everyone agrees to give it another shot of tequila.

Six Drink Simon: His head doesn't work anymore, he dont wants to know about sad things, or whatever. He just needs to move, he stands, he walks, he can't stay still, until Alejandro drop the best mexican music and Simon starts an awkward dance in place. (At this point everyone is so drunk they aren't the only ones dancing).

Seve Drink Simon: he is sweating duo the dance moves, but he cant care less. He is a little pervert horny guy trying to get in Soap pants like his life depends on this.

And at this point, Gaz is lost in some place with Alex, AleRudy are too distracted burning everyone in the dance floor to notice that Soap likes this Simon too damn much, and leaves with him to some room where them can do all the dirty things that Soap dind't know that Simon could even think of doing with him, but here he was, having all of this being whispered in his ear in one of the sexiest voices that he can ever hear.

They stop in Seven Drink Simon for now, but 141 and los vaqueros are not done with Ghost, some day he will not be able to run way with Soap before they can feed him another shot of tequila.

who would imagine that even the might Ghost have a little weakness like tequila. And, well, at least now they have Soap to relief the headche that Ghost in definilly give everyone in the next morning.

#tequila may not be able to kill you but she will kill your dignity #call of duty mwii #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #alerudy #inspired in b99 #english is not my first language #price is with Nikolai the whole time so he dont have the power to stop them #Ghost let himself be sweet talked for Jhonny #Ghost as Amy Santiago #AleRudy are killer husbands and dancers

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pleasingforharry · 2 years

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Cindy Kimberly

yourinstagram

liked by yourbff, y/nfan1, and 624,465 others

yourinstagram smiling in the picture

view all 29,864 comments

y/nfan1 how does one look so stunning ????

yourbff you make me happy, now marry me already

yourinstagram ofc baby ;)

y/nfan2 i never liked a post so fast omggg

harryfan1 ive never been so jealous of harry

harrystyles

liked by annetwist, yourinstagram, and 2,296,392 others

harrystyles Art.

view all 129,437 comments

harryfan1 this just called me single in 100 different languages

y/nfan1 shes mine harold

yourinstagram i sense the ‘art’ is the painting

harrystyles Oh wow, I didn’t even see that back there.

harryfan2 crying and throwing up everywhere

yourbff stop posting my gf like shes yours

yourinstagram

liked by y/nfan1, harrystyles, and 902,483 others

yourinstagram hot dog, hot diggity dog

view all 48,274 comments

harryfan1 omg i love this so much ahahaha

y/nfan1 y/n... whos dog is that?

yourinstagram stolen

harrystyles His name is Charles.

yourinstagram i thought we agreed on douglas

harryfan2 saved and sobbing

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, yourbff, and 1,761,745 others

harrystyles Distracted all night.

view all 365,022 comments

yourinstagram three applications of lipstick later...

harryfan1 HELP???

y/nfan1 i need to go on a date with y/n immediately

yourinstagram when and where?

harryfan2 she wins

yourinstagram

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2, and 703,859 others

yourinstagram damn bro, who got you smilin like that?

view all 84,183 comments

harrystyles My girlfriend. Have you seen how pretty she is?

yourinstagram meh, my boyfriend is prettier

harryfan1 i just want to eat him respectfully

harryfan2 cutieee

y/nfan1 jealous of harry ngl

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, harryfan1, and 4,178,172 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Raleigh, NC.

view all 430,704 comments

harryfan1 our king

harryfan2 i was there omggg

yourinstagram still sweating from all the dancing

y/nfan1 girlie you were dancing like no one was looking haha

y/nfan2 ayo your girlfriend stole your show

harrystyles Indeed.

yourinstagram we love a self aware king

yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbff, and 942,947 others

yourinstagram concert was alright ig

view all 53,284 comments

yourbff had so much fun w you bby

yourinstagram same, let’s do it again sometime :)

harrystyles Stalker.

yourinstagram damn you could’ve at least said i was hot

harrystyles Hot stalker.

y/nfan1 i love her, i love him omg

harryfan1 my parents

yourinstagram my child

#harrystyles #harry styles #harry styles instagram #harry styles imagine #cindy kimberly #harry styles concept #harry styles hslot #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles social media #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year

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A Stranger’s Mercy (11)

Summary: You reflect on the words exchanged after the tourney, and what it might mean for life at court afterwards.

Warnings: angst, some foul language, mentions of sex

A Stranger Masterlist / graphics by @saradika

Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12

The air was light and soft, as the pollen moved softly through the careful wind, carrying their seeds to the waiting flowers in the gardens of the Red Keep.

You sat with Lady Lannister, who was busying herself as you were, with embroidery carefully tucked between your fingers. Her melancholic spirits still remained, but there was an ease to it now that she finally knew her fate. She had expressed that part of her nerves about the entire ordeal was the ‘not knowing’. So it wasn’t the idea of being given away to any random gentleman who happened to throw their swords in a certain direction then?

Recently she had found solace in your company, having been ignored by the rest of Helaena’s ladies, for some unknown reason. You didn’t concern yourself with the gossip. People already did enough of that, with your name on their lips. You need not hear gossip concerning other people as well.

With the sun beating down on your neck and arms, your gaze flits up to the Septa observing so diligently across the gardens, beneath the shade of the archway. She was staring with such an unbreakable look, her eyes hooded by her brow, and to think she might be sweating buckets beneath her garb made you chuckle a bit. But more than that, it irked you how much attention was paid you now that you had been betrothed to him.

Aemond.

You scoff, looking back down to the embroidery in your hands.

“I hate this” you say quietly to Lady Lannister, she turns her head a little but does not break her gaze from her work. A small gesture to let you know she is indeed listening, “hate being stared at and…observed…as if we are doing something improper”.

You imagine the next stab through the fabric is the septa’s face, unashamedly.

Lady Lannister laughs, “Oh the burden of betrothed women, yet to belong to our husbands” her smile drops a bit when she sees you have not responded to her comment.

It had been a week since the tourney was won. And the dynamics of your relationship with Aemond had completely changed. Now you were to be watched, chaperoned at every event. Not to be left alone with your betrothed by any means necessary. It hardly seemed called for now. You’d lain with him, several times.

But that was a secret you would have to keep close to you. Be the pliant virgin until the wedding.

“I do not see any divine reason for it” you mumble, tying off the string.

Your companion laughs again, “It is true they pay special attention to you. Perhaps due to the outrageous manner in which the Prince won your hand?” she smiles.

You meet her eyes for a moment, thinking back. The afternoon following the tourney was bittersweet.

After Aemond had swept you off on Vhagar, he flew to Dragonstone. Both of you had been silent the entire journey there.

The rain pounded outside heavily, the humidity making your hair fly about at the ends. And your soaked dress was victim to it also, as it clung to your body uncomfortably.

The Targaryen family’s ancestral home had been neglected since the downfall of Rhaenyra Targaryen and her family; nobody had dared to set it up as their home since the end of the war. Of course, with Aemond as second-born son, it would eventually belong to him when he claimed it. Part of you wondered why he had not yet and why it stayed empty, collecting dust.

You could feel the frustration start to boil in your blood the more you stayed in Aemond’s presence, set to burst out in anger at any moment. And you feared that the second he opened his mouth, you would set upon him in insults. Your betrothed.

He stood awkwardly in the archways of the windows, watching the rain fall in sheets outside against the beach. He was sodden and raindrops still danced over his face, falling off the tip of his nose. And his hair, drenched, started to curl up at the ends with the heat of the rain. He had been completely quiet and had not yet said a word.

Your hand danced across the Painted Table, now neglected and dusty, your finger drew clean lines wherever they touched. In small writing, was your ancestral home. ‘Green Hill’ was inscribed there. It seemed so small on the map. Insignificant.

The candles were still on the table, half used, with their wax dripped down the sides, dry as a bone. You couldn’t imagine anyone living here. It seemed so haunted. Part of you wondered if you would be expected to live here, when you two eventually marry.

“Do you mean to ignore me forever?” you say, one hand leaned against the table shaped of Westeros.

He barely flinches and eventually turns on his heel to meet your gaze. With the stark clouds behind him, it makes him look almost ethereal. It’s here you wonder how bad you look in comparison. Wild and sodden, with a scornful expression.

“My lov-”

“Don’t” you say, eyes downcast, “Don’t call me that”

It comes out more hurt than you intended.

Aemond does not try and speak for a moment. At least, not until you tell him to.

Your eyes, to him, are like an animal’s. Wild and hunting.

“Explain”

As he usually does, he stands in silence, thinking about his words before he says them. And his eye pans about the room, wide and empty.

“Dragonstone was to be mine” he starts.

“Aemond I am not interested in tha-”

“Let me explain” his voice is stern, as if he has a point to make.

You don’t have the energy to speak so you gesture for him to continue instead.

“It was mine, by birthright. But after the Dance, I found I did not want it” he continues, taking in every detail of the room, “It was never my home, like King’s Landing was. I could not live easy here knowing that at this very table, my half-sister planned our deaths. My brothers, my sister, my mother even.

So I yielded it to Daeron”

You listen intently, waiting for said ‘point’ to come up.

“Daeron did not want it either. I felt as though I did not deserve it. For everything I had done”

He paces to the head of the table, where you imagined Rhaenyra Targaryen once stood, planning her fight for the crown.

“And what of this…I don’t even remember her name…Alys?” you spit. The name sounds foul on your mouth.

You feel the weight of Aemond’s one eye on you. He has never seen this fire in you before, and it both intrigues him and sets him off too.

“Alys was a wet-nurse at Harrenhal. I became acquainted with her when Harrenhal was taken-”

“Acquainted is certainly a word for it” you hiss in anger, “I care not if you merely fucked her, Aemond”

“You seem to care”

You meet his gaze again, eyes filled with rage, chest heaving.

“Only that you pretend to find some vision of her in me! You could not keep her, so you found another empty-headed woman with dark hair and enough of her likeness to sink your cock into” you spit, words biting at him.

“I am glad to hear you know my explanation before I have yet to say it”

You’re not in any state to stop this battle of words, emotions now run high and your mouth moves before your head.

“And to think there is a child amongst all this!”

“A child that is not mine”

“I am no fool, Aemond. I know how children are conceived and you are party to it”

“Stop”

“You say this child is not yours?”

“The bastard is not mine”

“How do you expect me to believe you? After all the things I have had to find out about you from other people?” you exclaim to him, slamming a hand onto the table with the extent of your rage.

Aemond is eerily still and calm as he barks back quickly.

“Perhaps you are a fool for believing them”

You let out a sarcastic laugh as he turns away from you, crossing the room to stand closer to him. And even though you laugh at the jape he makes at your intelligence, the tears in your eyes betray how you really feel.

“So I am a fool now” you scoff, “perhaps you are the fool, to allow your grandfather to stand between us like this with your lies”

He shakes his head, eye distantly looking to the horizon. You know very well, that if he were in a different mood, you could be in serious trouble for that.

“I have not lied to you once” he says in a hushed manner.

It almost makes you more angry that he is not as emotional as you are. And if he is he is doing an excellent job of hiding it. You’re almost jealous. Now you appear the hysteric naive woman everyone thinks you to be.

He doesn’t know what everyone says about you. What people say in hushed voices as you pass by.

He can fuck whoever he likes, sire as many bastards as he wants, with no repercussions.

Reaps the benefits of his sex, the benefits that your own mother fell victim to.

Gods, you were a fool.

To fall into the same trap, to complete the cycle. To finish what your mother began.

You imagined your father’s disappointed face. And for some reason this hurts you most of all at this moment.

Aemond is the one to speak next.

“Alys sought to extend her power, claiming the child was mine, so that if Aegon died, she might thrust the little bastard onto the throne” he spits, “the child could not be mine”

After a beat, you can’t bear to listen to any more of it.

“Where are you going” he barks across the room.

“Home”

He scoffs, “By what means, exactly?”

You flinch when he crosses the room quietly and tugs at your arm, a firm grip that completely encircles you. And you almost give the same reaction when you look up at his face, seeing the seething waiting anger beneath it.

“I only wish to leave”

“You are my betrothed and you will stay”

With a huff you yank your arm away from him, “It did take you long to claim ownership over me”

“I am to be your husba-”

“Aemond, I have given you my virtue, do not make me regret it.

I gave it not out of necessity, or in any divine plan to seduce you as your grandfather suggests, nor out of desperation. I gave it to you because I fucking loved you, Aemond”

He stands there for a moment, looking down at you. He takes a careful step towards you, sensing your anguish, but you try with all your exhausted strength to push him away with your hands flat on his chest.

He retreats a few paces, face still trained on you.

“I do not think you could say the same for me”

If any of the words you’d thrown so far had not landed, this one had. And it showed on his face.

“Y/n-”

It almost makes you cry out. He never says your name. It’s always ‘Lady Highgreen’.

But here outside the realms of duty, you almost lose it when he addresses you like he still cares.

“Who is to say you do not get bored of me and go off to find another, leaving me in a marriage where I am doomed to watch the man I love fuck others just to feel a slice of what I feel for you?” you exclaim, tears now threatening to fall from your eyes.

And the seething rage creeps up into his expression once more.

“Is it that you pity me? Does it make you feel better knowing that you gave that sad little child you ignored the comfort of an advantageous marriage-”

“Stop it”

“To save me the dishonour of merely being your whore-”

“Be quiet, you foolish girl!”

Everything seems to go quiet. He’s stepped forward, tall, broad form, invading your space. And his large hands are wrapped around your upper arms, shaking you as he shouts at you. ‘Foolish girl’ he called you. And with every syllable he shakes your body, silencing you from your onslaught of words on him.

For a moment, it makes you afraid. He has never been like this. Never once raised his voice. He had always been the soft spoken, quiet Aemond. But this, this was exhausted, enraged Aemond. The one you had expected to meet first before the former.

Your lips are parted, watching his expression once you’ve stopped speaking.

He breathes heavily, as if all that rage had been built up the moment you two had started speaking.

That tight grip remains as he speaks.

“You foolish girl” he spits, lower this time, but still shaking your body, as a means to make you understand his pain, “Judge me all you like, y/n, but when I believed I was going to die , when I believed my whole family. Aegon, Helaena, Daeron, even Mother. Were doomed to die. I sought comfort, in the only manner I knew how.

Yes, it was wrong of me to. And I do not expect you to understand me but understand it when I say that it was comfort, nothing more.

I had never felt so alone in my life.

And if fucking her gave me an ounce of an escape, then I took it.

So if you judge me for anything, judge me for that. Not for feeling alone”

You can only look back at him in disbelief, mouth dry and unable to speak.

And you remember what you had once told him, that night that Tyland Lannister struck you.

‘I could never blame a living creature for feeling lonely’.

But you never assumed he actually did. Tall, broad, powerful Aemond Targaryen. The Kinslayer. A powerful swordsman with great knowledge of various subjects, a key warrior during the Dance and rider of the most powerful dragon in the world…

…had felt alone.

And this fact, above everything else he’s just said, makes sadness sink into your skin, through your bones. You had selfishly assumed all this time, that only you had felt the loneliness, felt that wanting ache in your chest to be fulfilled but not knowing how.

Even now, you find you cannot judge him. True to your word.

His hands are so tight on your arms, you feel as if the skin is moulded to his palms. And he shakes with anger at the situation, but directed at you right now you can see why people think him fearsome. And after a moment, when he sees how your lips are parted in shock, his face softens and you bear witness as all the weight seems to disappear off his shoulders, like a large exhale.

And he loosens his grip just slightly, a shuddered breath is the only thing that escapes him.

“It was an accident” he merely says.

Your brows furrow softly in confusion and you speak quietly and gently, offering comfort in your tone.

“What was?”

His eye blinks quickly, as if willing the emotion to stay put behind them.

“Lucerys” he says, shaking, “I was never meant to start it…the war” he shakes his head. Reliving that dreadful night. And now, as he is shaking from the memory as well as the rain seeping into his skin, he remembers the muggy, horrid sensation of the rain pelting against him, staring down at what remained of his nephew, hurtling towards the ground.

“I lost control…of Vhagar…” he whispers, “I…only meant to scare him”

You know very little of the details of what happened during the Dance. Your House was so small, they managed to fade away into insignificance, remaining largely neutral during the actual conflict.

And it occurs to you at this very moment, that you almost met Aemond as he stands today when he unleashed Vhagar on the Riverlands.

Green Hill receives most of their takings through charging tolls for access to the Riverlands, so when they were decimated, your father felt it was safer to finally ally himself to the Greens. The memory of Vhagar flying overhead will forever serve to remind you just who Aemond was during the Dance. He seems such a different person now, standing, holding back his tears and trembling before you.

“I didn’t mean for any of it…” he says in a soft voice, one that shakes with grief.

“Aemond…” his name comes out of your mouth without any real effort, and so quiet it seems like he hasn’t heard it.

His hands on your arms remain, but he grips them like he needs the closeness of another person, and his left eye is closed softly now.

“Just-” he catches himself halfway, to really think about what he will say, “I have so much to say…”

He rights himself to stand straight, looking straight down to you, his one eye flits to both of yours, taking in the way the differing colours look.

“But for now, I tell you that I did not love her…and I do not believe I could ever love another…” he says gently, “You haunt my every waking moment. And I am convinced that if I ever wronged you in any way, you would haunt me still…and I would invite you to”

Your lips quiver at his words, feeling the hotness of tears in your eyes.

“But if you will have me…” he starts, “...I ask that you stay by my side, as my equal, my love. My wife”

A breath hitches in your throat.

You hardly realise it at the time, but when his thumb runs under your eyes to wipe away the tears there, you find your cheeks are wet with them. At his touch, gentle and controlled, you whimper. His face looks so pained, like there are so many things he wants to say, but chose this moment to dedicate to your love for one another.

One day, when he was ready, you would allow him to tell you everything.

But for now. You just kiss him, needing the closeness and warmth of his skin against yours. You let out a sigh of relief into his mouth when he pulls you closer to him, hands clamouring at your silken dress, waist, anything he can get his large hands against. It’s very quickly spiralling out of control, with hot, fervent kisses turning into sheer unadulterated passion, and his touch leaves scalding hot trails all over you.

You only pull away, breathing heavily, when he pulls you to sit atop the table, slotting himself between your legs, your skirts bunching up around your legs to accommodate him.

“Everything will change now…won’t it?” you whisper. But he does not stop, he leaves open-mouthed and needing kisses at the column of your throat, sparking every nerve with prickling desire, “we…won’t be able to be like this…”

“Hm” he murmurs against your skin, his large hands all but pulling the shoulders of your dress down your smooth arms. Your heart hammers in your chest with anticipation as his other hand runs down your dress, only to dip below the hem and fist the silk into his palm, tugging it back up the way he came. He rucks it up to your thighs, groaning at the skin he’s been dreaming of touching for weeks.

“Yes” he says lowly, fingers leaving red marks on the skin there as he sinks to his knees in front of you, “things will change”

You swallow nervously as he kisses your thigh. Eyes flutter shut, you’ve missed him…missed the way he can make you feel this way. Like it’s second nature.

He knows you far too well. And it’s so wrong for you to do this where you are right now, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop.

“So we will have to make the most of this moment…” he says quietly against your skin, his tongue leads a trail up, up, up.

Your hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles white at how he is teasing you.

“...won’t we, my love?”

“Y/n?”

The voice of Lady Lannister breaks you from the trance, and you look mortified at her, cheeks flushed at the realisation that you’d been day-dreaming at how the last meeting had ended.

“Yes?” you say, voice shaky, “I am sorry…did you say something?”

Lady Lannister merely laughs and shakes her head, “It is a rare enough thing, to be so in love”

You clear your throat, trying to rid the image from your mind of what Aemond had done to you that evening at Dragonstone. But the soft, welcome ache between your thighs reminded you of what he had said that day, and how you feel about him now. It is almost comical how the sun shines now. The air void of any humidity and stifled discomfort.

It’s as if those clouds that covered your judgement of Aemond have made way.

It hurt you greatly to find that you had judged Aemond in this way, and even more so to take accountability for it. You had hoped it was as simple as ‘Aemond was wrong’. But it was so much more than that. He did not feel the need to mention such relations before meeting you because there was no need for it. And the image of Otto Hightower springs to mind immediately, setting off a feeling of anger within it. For he’d done all this, spread such vile lies into your young, female mind, to keep you apart from him. To deter him from doing what he had wanted to do in the first place.

To wed you.

It was a mission now, you told yourself, to confront Otto Hightower.

For if you were to be family at some point, he needed to know you would not back down in your love and support for Aemond.

“There you are, my little faye”

Your eyes dart up at the nickname, smiling at once to see your father making his way in large strides towards you both. Eyes shine with love for him, but also a prickle of nervousness at the intent in his gaze. Hands behind his back, forcing that smile you know to be disingenuous, he stands before you both.

“May I speak with you, child” he asks softly,

Child. Not daughter?

Oh Gods that only meant he was angry, upset, or both.

You give a weary smile to Lady Lannister, standing up and brushing the grass off your skirts and abandoning the embroidery. You walk side by side with your father, hands clasped nervously in front of you.

“I am to return to Green Hill this evening” he says flatly,

“Oh? I am sorry to hear you will be missing the feast”

He hums, “And I am sorry to be missing it”

The longer you walk around the gardens, the more anxious you get, the hotter your skin becomes. Every single nerve awakens with the possibility of what he might say. He is acting out of sorts and it sets you on edge.

“Father, I understand if you are angry about the tourn-”

He scoffs, “Angry about the tourney? When my daughter is to be a Princess? My dear, it is a match even I could not have bargained for”

Then why are you acting so out of sorts? You think, looking back up at him, that same disingenuous smile.

“It is the manner of your relationship that worries me, child” he says.

You feel a chill as your blood runs cold. Face betraying the sheer worry inside. Your father and you alike come to a stop, with only the sound of the faint rustling in the trees to fill the silence.

He puts a hand to your cheek.

“The way the realm thinks of you, what it says, is precious, child” he says seriously, and though you cannot see his lips beneath his beard, you can tell they’re in a tight line, his eyes anywhere but your face.

“It can protect you or it can end you”

You feel a chill go up your spine as his hand remains at your cheek, making you look up at him, into his eyes now.

“What you have done does not matter, it is what people think you have done…” he says quietly this time, “...that is all that matters”

You swallow over the lump in your throat, as tears threaten to well up behind your eyes, hot and ready to spill over. Seeing you so desperately hold back, he slowly brings you in, cupping the back of your head into his chest. It feels like you are a child all over again, having scraped your knee or babbling incoherently about someone who had said unsavoury things. Inside your chest, your heart feels heavy. Though you feel that your father indeed loves you, you cannot help but feel like there is a lingering judgement.

“Please, think of that next time” he whispers and you nod softly, unable to say anything else.

He gently pulls you away to look at you, using his thumb to wipe away the stray tear that had escaped.

“Listen to me” he says, softer this time, “You are my daughter. A Princess-to-be. I am proud of you beyond words, and your mother would be as well. Protect yourself, child. I will not always be here to”

You nod, inhaling shakily, “Yes father”

He nods and lets a weary smile pass his features.

“I shall see you soon, child” he says as he turns to take his leave.

You watch him leave, taking a deep breath. His words are careful, but with a soft sharpness that can only come from a parent.

When you look back, Lady Lannister has gone from her spot, presumably to attend to Helaena.

And on the other side of the gardens, stands Alicent Hightower, hands clasped nervously in front of her, looking with those deep brown eyes in your direction. Having seen the entire thing.

Taglist: @m00n5t0n3 @boofy1998 @merakiaes @hanihoney88 @let-love-bleeds-red @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @heavenley1927 @ryswritingrecord @partypoison00 @gaeela-6 @saeselkie @padfooteyes @introverbatim @queenofshinigamis @thatkingofgirl @ryswritingrecord @dahlias-and-marigolds

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changsbin · 1 year

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[9:17PM] kim seungmin is not a morning person. every sense is overwhelming when he first wakes up. he opens his eyes, and it is immediately too bright. he can hear the routine drone of the crow that has seemingly nested right outside of the bedroom window. the feeling of sweat beading on his forehead has him shoving the covers away from his body, closer to you. as he tastes his morning breath, he almost gags—and the smell does him no favors either.

the fundamental components of morning are simply too much for him; seungmin is a night owl through and through. every day, the sun casts beautiful, gold-tinted shadows across the planes of his face, and you find him alluring as he settles into the evening’s peaceful embrace. seungmin has told you before that nighttime is relaxing—the day’s happenings have passed, his stomach is full, and he gets to spend time with you. and, in this regard, seungmin is a maximalist; he makes sure to watch at least 3 episodes of a drama with you before transitioning to your customary gossip sessions. after, he shuffles around in his backpack and digs out his ancient wired earphones, and the two of you trade song recommendations for so long that hours pass by like seconds.

you know and understand seungmin’s quirks like the back of your hand. he loves to have pop music playing through the speakers while you’re talking about your days. he hates the heaviness of the fluffy blanket while you’re watching tv, but tolerates it because he hates being separated from you even more. above all, however, he is adamant about health and cleanliness; seungmin refuses to sleep anywhere other than the comfort of your shared bed.

which explains your genuine concern for his well-being when you enter your living room only to find him comatose adjacent on the couch. his arm is hanging off the edge, and his fingers are brushing the carpet—you have to give him a once-over just to make sure he hasn’t stopped breathing. but, after your initial panic, a warm smile dances on the corners of your lips.

on a normal day, this is around the time when the two of you would turn on hometown cha cha cha. tonight, however, your knees press into the floor as you settle near seungmin’s head and gently fold his discarded arm over his chest. tilting your head to rest against his shoulder, you make yourself small to admire his natural beauty for as long as you are able. you watch the perpetual rise and fall of your lover’s chest, accompanied only by the quiet snore he produces on the inhale. in this unusual quietude, you swear the subtle beating of his heart is all the more audible.

“kim seungmin,” you murmur while tracing the bridge of his nose, “what happened to our hometown cha cha cha screening? don’t tell me you’re bailing ... ” you continue along your path, and the pads of your fingers make it to his plush bottom lip before his eyelids begin to flutter open. you feel him smile under your touch, and the lighting of the room grows dim at the mere conceptualization of seungmin’s happiness.

he hums, and the vibrations tickle your fingers. “i would never,” he chuckles through sleep, “i was just waiting for your glorious return.”

“mmh, glorious indeed,” you giggle before standing from your spot on the floor. “oh, also—there’s leftover seolleongtang in the kitchen. you know ... if you need some comfort after realizing that you’ve just napped someplace that isn’t under our covers.”

seungmin shudders at your words and pries himself away from the drooling jaws of exhaustion. his eyes are slightly swollen, and the hair at the back of his head is visible as he looks up at you. the glow emanating from the lamp frames his bedhead to create a halo, and for a moment, his lips move but you don’t hear anything—too enraptured by his presence.

“[y/n] ... you okay?”

directing your lovesick gaze back to his eyes, the amount of adoration held in your heart for kim seungmin hits you tenfold. craning your neck, you place a soft kiss on the top of his head and card your fingers through his wild, likely-still-gel-ridden hair. “more than.” pausing, you offer him a stupid grin, “so ... dinner and a show?”

seungmin scoffs to hide the sincere laughter threatening to spill from his mouth, “obviously.”

#skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fluff #skz x reader #seungmin #kim seungmin #stray kids seungmin #seungmin scenarios #seungmin headcanons #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #cass.writes: seungmin <3

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

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Elucien | The Joys of Gardening

type: fluff warning(s): none word count: 2,9k words request: how they eventually fall in love with each other and the secret looks and stuff.

Lucien Vanserra once again finds himself gazing at the door leading to the garden — his soul yearning, longing for the female who is standing behind the glass doors. She is just so beautiful, her gaze fully focused on the plants while she brushes the back of her hand over her flushed and in a thin film of sweat covered face, her hair—

Are these the gloves he gifted her all those years ago for Solstice?

Lucien’s lips part a little and he leans forward, now openly staring at his mate. His eyes narrow in on Elain Archeron’s hands and he gets the confirmation that these are indeed the gloves he gifted her.

She is really wearing them! Lucien’s soul seems to sing and dance when awareness dawns on him and he has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread all over his face. He does not want to make it too obvious that he has been staring at her again, Elain is still sometimes ignoring him and behaves rather reserved around him. But he made his plans without the High Lady of the Night Court.

Feyre, upon stepping into the room, clears her throat, the corners of her mouth already lifted when she silently regards Lucien and follows his gaze to her older sister. Elain is working in the garden, trying to move her plants around and Feyre decides that Elain definitely needs help with that.

“You could help her, Lucien.”

Lucien startles a little — first Feyre caught him staring and secondly she stepped into the room without announcing herself. Lucien draws in a deep breath and turns to look at Feyre.

She wouldn’t want me to help, Lucien thinks, but says, “No, I think she is fine.”

The High Lady of the Night Court does not feel like accepting that, purses her lips and braces her hands on her hips. She knows that Lucien is in love with Elain and that Elain, as much as she tries to deny it, has very similar feelings for him. Feyre has maybe one or the other time entered her sister’s mind when talking to her sister about Lucien—she wasn’t proud of it, but she got the confirmation that a million thoughts in Elain’s mind concerned around Lucien Vanserra and how polite and kind and handsome he is.

“I think she would appreciate it.” Feyre smiles softly, tilting her head a little.

Lucien ponders for a moment, looking at his fingers and up at the High Lady again. Feyre averts her gaze for a moment, looking directly into Elain’s face through the glass doors. In amusement Feyre raises a brow.

The middle Archeron sister’s forehead lies in furrows, she is nibbling on her lower lip, staring at Lucien’s back through the glass doors. For what feels like hours she has been carrying those stupid flower pots to the door and away from the door just so she could steal more glances at Lucien…at her mate. Just so she could catch him looking at her, but he never seemed to look. Which is good, so he would not catch her looking at him. But then…why is he not looking at her? There are so many thoughts in Elain’s mind, so many emotions bubbling up inside of her, she feels like she is going to explode any minute.

When the taste of metal reaches Elain’s taste buds, she lets go off her lower lip and realises that she has bit down a little too hard, being so caught up in her thoughts.

What is he talking to Feyre about? Elain wonders and thinks for a moment that she could just go inside and…wash her hands or something and then—

Lucien is getting up. Lucien is getting up!

And Elain’s heart starts racing when she promptly turns away from the door. She steps from one foot to the other, reaching down to lift up a flower pot, but it is the heaviest one and she can’t quite make it work, so it slips back to the ground, her hands still lingering on the edges.

Is he leaving already? Without even checking in on her? Will he just leave and not even say hello? He always said hello and now…would he just leave and not ask her how she is doing? Would he return to the mortal lands? To Jurian. To Vassa—

“Can I help you with anything, my lady?”

The breath gets knocked from her, her cheeks so hot all of a sudden. She stares straight ahead into the large garden, her feet rooted to the ground. Her heart skips one or the other beat when she focuses on a bird couple, happily sharing am earthworm.

“My lady, did you hear me?”

Elain’s hands lift on their own accord, she is waving them around in front of her body, gesticulating something when she spins around. She points her thumb into the garden behind her and then to where they are standing right now.

“I did. Hear you. I did hear you, Lucien. Lord Lucien. Hello.” Elain smiles a little awkwardly, her cheeks flushed and burning with heat she has just rushed through her greetings.

Lucien has to bite down on his lower lip, silent amusement etched into his features. His chest warms at the sight of her, covered in dirt and mud, culms of grass, leaves and petals in her hair and she is truly wearing the gloves he has gifted her. “Hello, my lady.”

His smile…he is like the sun personified, Elain summarises and once again it makes so much sense that he is Helion’s son. Their gazes meet, locking and Elain feels her heart beat in her throat, her chest warming. She holds his gaze, not wanting to look away, she wants to get lost in the russet and the metal, she wants to be consumed by his gaze because no has ever looked at her like Lucien Vanserra does.

The fiery male notices her look, no longer her shy glances and reserved glimpses at him, this look is filled with passion and longing. She looks at him the same way she does and he loves this. “Now, can I help with something, Lady Elain?”

Elain finally lowers her hands and wipes them down her pants. She hesitates. If she says yes, they will spend time together and she does not know if her heart can take this. And she…gods! Elain for the first time notices how…ruffled and absolutely gross she looks when she sees the reflection of herself in the glass door behind Lucien. Her breathing halts and her expression is a shocked one. “I…I…”

“Don’t need help. Yes, thought so.” Amusement and joy vanish from Lucien’s expression in an instant, like they have been wiped away. He lets his shoulders slump and is on the verge of turning on his heels when Elain lunges herself at him, grabbing his wrist in both her hands and she pulls him back. “NO!” she blurts out, her wide eyes meeting his. “I need help. I do. I really do. They are so heavy and I can’t carry them on my own. I really need you to help me. Someone as strong as you.”

She knows her face is the colour of beetroot red by then, but she ignores it, also what she looks like. If Lucien still manages to look at her like she is the most beautiful female in the world, it couldn’t be too bad.

“You do?” Lucien cocks his brow, loving how her small and gloved hands feel around his arm. The former frustration leaves him and joy and relief about her wanting to spend time with him fill every fiber of his body. He feels his heart skip a happy little beat, his eyes slowly starting to glow again. “I do!” Elain expresses, grinning up at him. Only now, for the very first time, does she really take in his height. Lucien is incredibly tall, definitely taller than Rhys and taller than Azriel, but it is not intimidating, rather gives her a feeling of security and safety. Like she wants his body to shield her from all the cruel things this world has to offer. Or him to lift her up, into his strong arms, carry her around, throw her over his shoulder or onto the bed.

Elain’s eyes widen when realisation dawns on her about what she has just been thinking about. Good gods! Only the male with the…fire in his veins —she still curses Feyre for telling her about it— makes her think things like that.

Almost as if he could read her mind, Lucien’s brows lift in silent amusement. “So what do we do? Where do we need to carry them?” “The really big one to the—oh sorry!” Elain quickly pulls her hands back, only having realised then that she has still been holding his arm. “To the small terrasse over there.” Elain points into the direction, it is half across the garden and Lucien understands that she really needs help. Even if the pot wasn’t so heavy, it would still be exhausting to carry it across the garden.

Tingles erupt in both their hands as their finger tips brush when they both move and place their hands around the pot to lift it up— they feel it even through the thick gloves.

“I see you appreciate my present,” Lucien says with a smirk on his lips, hoisting the pot up and lifting 90% of its weight. Obviously he would not make Elain carry most of it. She has to reach her hands rather high up to still hold onto it and can only peek over the edges of it to answer her…mate.

“They are good,” she says somehow matter-of-factly. The pot is just so heavy and all the air gets stolen form her lungs. But she forces herself to keep talking when they take their first steps. “Amazing. Amaz-ing, actually. They are amazing.”

Lucien smiles brightly in return, the muscles in his shoulders flexing when they slowly move over the grass, carrying the heavy pot. Veins pop on Lucien’s forehead and his neck and for a moment Elain feels bad that she asked him if he could help her move the pot — Cassian would have to move it back later. But she desperately needed to find something to make Lucien stay, to make him spend time with her and between the hesitation of wanting him to stay and being nervous about him staying it was the only good thing she could come up with.

“Here?” Lucien pants and Elain decides that here is perfect. They lower the pot to the ground and Lucien groans lowly. The sound is so purely male, so primal it has Elain’s toes curling and she looks at him with parted lips while brushing her damp palms down her thighs.

Lucien mirrors her movement, before he lifts his arms and moves his hands back to re-tie his hair. Due to sweating the white shirt perfectly clings to his body, his biceps flexes and all Elain is able to do is stare — mouth open just a little bit, eyes roaming her mate’s glorious body.

“Maybe you should ask Feyre to paint me, it’ll last longer.” Lucien winks at his mate, which makes Elain draw in a sharp inhale and she rolls her eyes. Her heart skips on or the other beat and sweat breaks out on her skin. “You are silly, Lord Lucien!”

“My Lady,” Lucien rebukes and behind his back dips his thumb into the wet soil of the flower pot. “Let me quickly help you. You have something…” He brings his thumb up to her face and before she knows what he is about to do, he wipes his dirty thumb over her cheek. “On your face.”

A shit-eating grin blooms on his face when he watches the incredulous expression creep into Elain’s features, her eyes ablaze with fury. It only amuses him more and makes his grin widen into a full toothy one.

“You are a foul one, Lord Lucien!” Elain shoots back and before he can help himself Elain grabs the bucket next to her, lifting it up and splashes the small amount of water all over Lucien who yelps like a little pup whose foot got stepped onto. There is nothing but challenge and cockiness in his expression. His hands reach for Elain, he pulls her to him and just a moment later her feet leave the ground, he lifts her up and throws her over his shoulder.

“As much as you are a noble lady, you deserve the punishment that is now coming for you,” Lucien hollers, his chest rumbling with loud laughter. Elain trashes her hands against his broad back, nothing but hard muscles underneath his shirt. She laughs loudly as well, not being able to hold back, while swatting at his shoulders now. “Lord Lucien! Let me down!”

And punishment? What would he do?

She gets the answer when first her butt, then her back touches something wet and cold and then her whole head is under water for a split second. He has thrown her into the little fountain in the garden?

Elain reaches for him, for anything she can grab of him and pulls Lucien into the water with her. She fights him onto his back, straddling him in the course of her doing and splashes water onto him. “You threw me into the fountain?!” Elain expresses loudly, tasting water in her mouth when laughing again. She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady her breathing and her rapidly beating heart.

“I sat you into the fountain, my lady. I thought you needed a cool down.” Lucien reaches for her hips, before taking her smaller hands into his bigger ones, so she could no longer splash water onto him. From his lowered position he can catch the perfect look at her, her hair wet and ruffled, face a little dirty and flushed and the sun high above them creating a perfect glow to her skin. Lucien forgets how to breathe, forgets how to exist.

“Even all wet and disheveled you are the most beautiful female I have ever seen.” His voice is hushed, breathless.

“You are a liar.”

“Am not,” Lucien breathes, eyes momentarily dropping to her lips, his eyes ablaze with admiration.

Elain looks at him in the same way he is looking at her, her own heart stopping at the sight of her mate. Lucien’s white shirt has turned transparent from being wet, his sculpted chest, his strong shoulders, the corded muscles of his upper arms now perfectly visible. Her breaths are ragged when Elain leans in a little. “I can only return that,” she says in a whisper, eyes tracking Lucien’s features.

“But wet suits you,” she then adds, grinning and loving how sleek Lucien’s hair looks when wet. “Wet definitely suits you,” Lucien chuckles, winking and only then Elain slowly understands the innuendo. If there has been one? Has there been one?

Her eyes widen a little —truly only he could make her things like that. Elain slides closer to Lucien, her fingers brushing over his forehead to wipe some small strands of hair out of his face. “Should we get out of the fountain?”

“Don’t you like it here?” Lucien asks, his tone amused. His is still smiling brightly, just like the sun high above them in the sky.

The Archeron sister wiggles her hips a little, her legs feeling a little numb from the position they are in. “I have to admit that it is getting a little cold,” Elain answers and it is everything Lucien needs to hear. With graceful simplicity he lifts her up and moves them both out of the small fountain and onto the freshly mown grass. “I think we really should do gardening more often, shouldn’t we?”

Elain’s grin and the glow in her eyes is answer enough — he knows only good things are coming for the two of them after today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel@aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo

#elcuien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar #acosf

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rmd-writes · 8 months

Note

Hi friend! 💕

If you’re still taking prompts for ficlets, may I request a 7 and 14 combo for firstprince? If those are taken, maybe 24? And if that is also taken lol, then one that was not requested, yet you wish to write? Covering all my bases here 😂.

Sending you all the ✨positive writing vibes✨ and hoping this exercise helps the words start flowing!

I’ve assigned each prompt I received a number and am using a random number generator to choose which prompt to write because I got quite a few from you all! If you’ve sent me one, I promise I will get to it!! Because I’m using these prompts to try to shake words loose after a bout of writer’s block, these are all just whatever I can come up with in <30min and barely edited 💖

Thanks so much for the ask Sonia! This has indeed helped the words to start flowing again!! 💖 I have already written prompt 24 (here), so here is your other request, though I've taken some liberties and this possibly doesn't quite hit the 'intimate moments' part of this prompt but I hope you like it anyway!

7. softly smiling at each other from across the room + 14. holding each other’s gaze

From his seat at the bar, Henry has a view of almost the entire room. He feels like his eyes would have been drawn to him almost as soon as he enters regardless though. How could his attention not be drawn to this beautiful, vibrant specimen of a man?

Between drinks and bouts of shouted conversation with Pez, Henry’s gaze is continually drawn to him.

Dark tousled curls, an easy smile, hands gesturing wildly as he speaks.

He notices Henry too. Henry catches him looking back at him, more than once, a smirk dancing around the corner of his full lips. Still, he doesn’t approach him.

Pez drags him onto the dancefloor. Henry does his best to move with the music but all he can think about is the view he has of the man dancing.

He’s mesmerising. Not simply because he looks like sex on legs, the curve of his arse clad in tight denim, the tight lines of his body just barely hidden beneath the sheer black shirt he wears unbuttoned to his sternum, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. As if that wasn’t enough, he moves like the music thrums through his veins, his heartbeat matching the thumping bass, like he was born to this.

He catches Henry looking at him and grins lazily at him, running his hand through his hair. He bites his lip and gyrates his hips and the whole scene makes Henry’s breath catch in his throat.

Henry flees the dance floor under the guise of needing some water. He has a shot of vodka instead. When he turns around, the man is no longer on the dance floor but standing a few feet away. Henry meets his gaze and holds it this time.

The man tilts his head back slightly, eyebrow raised. A clear invitation. Henry can’t help but return the almost shy smile the man gives him, as if despite his confidence, he’s unsure whether Henry will accept his invitation.

Henry moves towards him, anticipation dancing up his spine as he follows the man. He leads Henry to the dancefloor, rather than the bathrooms as he’d expected. He doesn’t dwell on it though, not when there’s a warm hand on his waist pulling him close, sparkling dark eyes framed with impossible lashes looking up at him and a sultry voice in his ear.

“This okay, sweetheart?”

(You can read all of my intimate moments prompts here)

#rwrb fic #firstprince fic #rwrb #firstprince #rmd writes #rmd writes: rwrb snippet #intimate moments prompts #prompt fill

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sirowsky · 1 year

Text

Part 17 - Remember Today

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Christmas is here, which means that Pero is about to have his first ever real celebration, and the family does not disappoint.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I’m happy to elaborate on what to expect from this part via DM.

Word Count: 4960 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 18

<><><><><><><><><>

“Good morning, pintora. Did you sleep well?” Pero’s drowsy voice asked from behind you, before his lips gently pressed against your neck.

“Perfectly well, thank you,” you answered, just as drowsily, wondering why it sounded like he was a bit smug. “How about you?”

“I did not sleep much, I’m very excited for today,” he said, and you could’ve sworn that the smile in his voice sounded even more smug then.

You twisted around to look at him, but by then he’d schooled his features to show only happiness, which you didn’t doubt that he was feeling, but you knew that there was something else going on too.

“What are you up to, mister?” you probed, and he just smiled wider, kissing the tip of your nose before almost leaping out of bed.

“Come on, get up! It’s Christmas Day, we need to get ready,” he chirped while pulling the covers clean off the bed and then stepping back up and starting to jump next to you, making you bounce on the mattress.

“I know what day it is, silly,” you laughed, unable to stop the giggles as you watched his childish energy grow with each little hop. “What’s gotten into you?”

He didn’t answer that. Instead, he reached down to pull you up, snaring you into a bouncy little dance, round and round on the bed until he was satisfied that you were fully awake. At which point he dragged you into the shower with him. The sparkling joy didn’t diminish under the warm water, more so the opposite, although he channelled it into really hot and slightly frenzied sex instead.

“Honey, I know that this is your first real Christmas, but there’s no rush,” you reminded him while getting dressed afterwards, watching him hurry his way through the whole process. “We want the festivities to last throughout the entire day.”

His only response was a happy little chuckle, so you just shook your head at him and finished putting on your knitted sweater. In this family, the holidays had always been associated with comfort, so no one dressed up or got all fancy. Pj’s were permitted to be worn throughout the day, should anyone want to. But you actually had your own little tradition.

You always wore the knee-long, naturally grey wool sweater with a pattern of white reindeer over the chest, that your mother had made for you to prove that she could indeed knit, even though she hated it. Wearing it always made you smile, because you remembered the look on her face when you’d opened the gift one Christmas morning and been completely shocked to find the garment. You really had thought that she couldn’t knit to save her life.

She’d been childishly happy to have proven you wrong.

Pero held your hand as you made your way down to the living room, and the newly decorated tree which stood against the large windows and the backdrop of the snow-covered landscape. Once there, his urgency seemed to lessen, and he came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you and holding your back against his chest.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he whispered against your cheek, and you repeated the words back to him. “Today is going to be perfect,” he continued. “No matter what happens, it will be perfect, because you’re here with me.”

Before you could formulate an equally sappy response to that, your father walked in, carrying hot cocoa and a loaded tray of sandwiches, wearing his comfiest sweats and his favourite plaid shirt.

“Did I hear you two jumping on your bed earlier? Like five-year-olds?” he asked with a comically raised brow, and you playfully jabbed Pero in the ribs.

“That was all him,” you accused, to which your partner merely grinned proudly, as if he could think of no greater honour than being told off for being childish.

“Well then, you’ll have worked up an appetite, I’m sure. Dig in, kids,” Dean offered, and you snorted a little.

“Who are you calling a kid, grandpa…” you huffed with a smile, and both he and Pero paused and grinned softly at you, so unbelievably happy that that would soon be a reality.

Then Abby came bouncing down the stairs, before jumping into the living room and setting off a confetti-cannon.

“Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals!” she imitated from the Home Alone movies, just before all the dogs came charging into the room.

But since Dean was all smiles and Abby clearly wasn’t any threat, they immediately settled down. She hugged each of you and then you all took a seat in the couch and turned the TV on to watch one of the channels that only showed holiday-themed movies all day, and Groot came to sit beside your legs while you had breakfast. As a rare treat, the other four dogs were also allowed to join you that day, either sitting with you in the couch or tangled around your feet on the floor, that was their choice.

You spent most of the morning like that. Just languidly watching funny and overly romantic films while chatting about nothing in particular, but all of you clearly eager to hop on any topic that could lead to more laughter. And when it came time to start thinking about lunch, you all moved over to the kitchen and prepared the meal together, while also getting started on a few things that would be served with dinner, but needed some time to stew first.

Lunch passed in much the same vein, the four of you and the dogs simply enjoying each other’s company and making the most of the light mood. Then you and Pero volunteered to check on the horses, taking the canines with you to let them run off some excess energy in the fresh snow, while you groomed. Groot played with them for a few minutes, but then came to your side again, as if he was worried about leaving you alone for too long.

When you got back to the house, your father and Abby had prepared the living room for boardgames and general playfulness, removing carpets and breakables so that you’d have some room to move. And since you and Dean were known to be unbeatable if you were ever on the same team, it ended up being him and Abs against you and Pero, which turned out to be a really even match.

There were games played with dice, others with cards, some with your own bodies and one which forced all of you to sing. Which led to the shocking discovery that despite your recollection of what he’d told Detective Jones that time at the café, about not wanting to inflict his singing on anyone, your partner’s vocal capacity was easily the best in the room.

“Uuuh… Yeah, you’ll be singing all the lullabies, honey. Sorry,” you smiled, and he laughed a bit nervously, clearly not sure if you were joking, since the entire mood of the day had been playful banter.

“Why? You can sing too…” he persisted, but you just shook your head at him.

“Nowhere near as good as you, you’re like… a smoother Johnny Cash,” you suggested, and Dean sucked in a breath.

“Oh, my god, Bee! You’re absolutely right!” he excitedly exclaimed with raised eyebrows.

Your father loved Cash, so you’d grown up listening to him, and Pero did sound a lot like him, just without that roughest, most gravel-like texture. A honey-smooth Johnny Cash.

“Pfft… Not even close,” your partner scoffed, waving a hand dismissively at you both. “Just tell me, did I get the point? Because if I did, we won…”

“Yep, you did,” Abby declared, “Which means we’re tied! And the house rules says that there must be a winner, so that means one more game.”

It was getting close to dinnertime by then, but none of you were tired of the games yet, so you settled on a final battle, which was going to be a physical challenge.

Basically, it was one of those “think fast” type of games, where you worked in pairs. One person would read a card with a task to be performed, which could be anything from touch your toes to tap the nearest metal, which your partner wasn’t allowed to help you with. It was just a matter of completing the task as quickly as possible, and then picking up another card to hand to your partner to let them do the next one. And the pair with the most completed tasks after four minutes, would be the winner.

And since some of the tasks required the performer to move to another room, while others could be completed within a single second, it was a truly exciting game, constantly shifting who was in the lead, until there was only time for one more task, and you were tied. Now, it could possibly be considered cheating, and indeed the rest of the day would see the topic revisited on numerous occasions, but the simple fact was, the rules didn’t say anything about ninja-moves not being permitted.

So, when both participants had to move clear across the room, Pero to write an invisible X on a piece of glass, and Abby to retrieve a music CD, there was a moment of confusion from all of you when it first appeared as though your partner hadn’t moved at all. And then…

“NO! You didn’t…!?” Abby growled when she returned with the disc after just three seconds, finding him seemingly still at the starting point, but with a smug smile on his face.

“No way, you didn’t even move…” even Dean was doubting it, because like you, he’d been sitting in the sofa to observe the match, looking at them both.

Excited to hopefully prove them wrong, you bounced up and trotted over to the nearest window, exhaling over the surface at chest-height, where he was most likely to have drawn, and sure enough, there it was.

“Argh! You fucker!” Abby admonished, lightly punching Pero’s shoulder, but he just laughed giddily.

“Not my fault you cannot keep up, perezoso,” he teased, and then added, “That means slowpoke,” before shooting her a huge, gloating grin.

“Oh, no, you didn’t!” she warned before launching herself at him in a mock attempt at a wrestling match.

You stood back and watched, laughing heartily at your favourite people having so much fun and being so comfortable with each other. That is, until Pero hit Abby with a full disappearing act, leaving her almost landing on her nose on the floor when his mass suddenly just wasn’t there to absorb her fall. And like Dopey in Snow White, he then reappeared perched on the back of the couch with his legs dangling, although he couldn’t wiggle his ears as impressively as the dwarf.

The scene was too funny for anyone to keep arguing any points, and you all just collapsed in fits of laughter. And once you’d recovered enough to start functioning again, it was time to get dinner started, and just like lunch, you all pitched in and kept talking and throwing the odd jab at each other throughout.

The food was excellent, and you all ate way too much, as was customary, leaving you warm and pleasantly sleepy for a good long while afterwards. You all piled up on the couch again, but this time tangled up so that everyone could lay down and give your distended bellies enough room to work, while The Holiday, one of your all-time favourite Christmas movies played on the TV.

It was getting late by the time Dean announced that it was about time for presents, at which point, Pero practically leapt out of the sofa, all excited and giddy again, which confused you. Because he’d been all sad about it, last night, realizing that he didn’t have anything for you, but he’d also been by your side all day, so he couldn’t have gotten anything since then either.

Yet, here he was, goofily smiling as he reached for something underneath the tree and then came back to sit beside you as he handed you a small, neatly wrapped present.

“Feliz Navidad, mi amada Abeja,” he purred, and you smiled warmly at his obvious joy.

“What’s this, now? You said you hadn’t gotten me anything…” you probed, but he just kept smiling while he watched you start to pull the paper off.

Once the gift was unwrapped and you held it between your fingertips, big blobs of tears started falling down your cheeks, because yeah, hormones, but also… this man was just too damned sweet. He must’ve gotten up sometime during the night and made it for you, because you really didn’t think that he’d been messing with you when he’d said that he didn’t have any present for you.

You would never forget that day, in the shade of your indoor trees at the studio, when he’d told you exactly how he felt about you.

“It was like I had become a falling star, doomed to burn up in your atmosphere. The moment I saw you again, I was trapped by your gravity, and there was nothing I could do but keep falling.”

That was his gift to you. Then as well as now, because what you were holding was a little wooden star threaded onto a thin gold chain that you recognized as having belonged to your mother. But he’d made the star of tiny fragments, and then put them together in such a way that it was somehow always moving if it didn’t rest against something. So, in a way, it was perpetually falling. Unless you kept it steady.

“Dammit, Pero…” you snivelled, too overwhelmed to think straight. “All I got you was an apron.”

That befuddled him for a moment, but then he remembered what that was in reference to, and he snorted into a laugh while he got up again to retrieve the gift in question. He snickered the whole time that he opened the present and then unfolded it on his lap, a simple cotton garment with the words “Caution Extremely Hot” followed by “no, not the food” printed on it, and he looked so fucking pleased.

“This is the best Christmas present I have ever gotten!”

“Well, yeah, it’s the only one you’ve ever gotten…” you countered, but he just smiled wider and gestured to the apron.

“Exactly! Which is why I will remember this forever, so good thing it was a clever one,” he retorted with a wink, and you had to chuckle.

“I should’ve gotten one of those that says ‘dad joke loading’ instead,” you offered, and he lit up like the tree behind him.

“I don’t know what that means but I love how it sounds.”

“I’ve got you covered there, son,” Dean chipped in while he got up to start handing out his presents to everyone.

And as if the stars had indeed aligned that day, of course he’d gotten his adopted son and soon-to-be newbie dad, a book full of dad jokes. It kept your partner entertained for the remainder of the evening, quietly humming with laughter every now and then while the rest of you settled down and got increasingly sleepier, once more crammed together on the couch.

He was kind enough to spare you from having to listen to any when you crawled into bed sometime after 11pm, but you felt certain that like a loaded gun, he’d be ready to shoot once the opportunity presented itself.

“Pero?” you asked after you’d snuggled up in bed together.

“Mm,” he answered contentedly.

“This was the best Christmas ever,” you declared, and felt his responding smile throughout his entire body.

“Yes. It was. We will always remember today.”

<><><><><><><>

You stayed for breakfast and a lazy morning the following day, and then helped to clean up the house a bit. And while Pero and Dean took care of the kitchen, you and Abby were in the living room, tidying up after the games and the unwrapping of presents, which led to your partner overhearing a very interesting conversation between you and your old friend.

“Hey, Abs… I’ve been thinking about something, concerning the studio and the future and all that.”

He’d been on his way to ask you if you wanted to take home some of the leftovers, but he stopped when he heard you say that, because he knew that the question about your future still weighed heavily on you, and he wanted to know if you’d made any progress. It wasn’t eavesdropping, he was just concerned… At least, that’s what he told himself when he deliberately stayed out of sight as he listened.

“Okay, what are you thinking?” Abby responded, and Pero heard you pause whatever it was that you were doing.

“I won’t know for quite some time yet just how much mobility I’ll be able to get back in my hand, and it seems stupid to start up my business again unless I actually have something to offer,” you said, and he didn’t like that you sounded so defeated.

“I’d say that it would be pointless rather than stupid,” your friend observed, “but I see your point. So, what? You got something else in mind?”

“Kinda…” you answered before pausing again, and this time it seemed like a very nervous sort of pause, which made your partner nervous too.

“Do I have to guess?” Abby pressed, and he heard you clear your throat.

“I want you to come and work with me, as my partner.”

The room went completely silent then, for what seemed like a long time, and Pero had to seriously restrain himself not to barge into the room and interfere. Because he thought that it was a wonderful idea, but he also knew that Abby might very well completely disagree, which was why your nervousness now made a lot more sense. She’d always been a free spirit, always refused to tie herself down with anything that might sprout roots and become permanent, so odds were, she would reject this without even truly considering it.

“You are so talented, Abs…” you continued after a beat, even though you knew that this was a woman that would never be convinced to do anything that she didn’t already want to do. “I’ve seen you make sculptures that could rival Michelangelo, out of fucking fruits or vegetables. You can write perfect calligraphy despite the fact that you’ve never once had use for it, you taught yourself how to make wire trees just because you like the aesthetics of them, you know how to bind books and crochet, how to work with leather, clay and ceramics-…“

You cut yourself off then, and he heard you sigh deeply, but there was still not a sound coming from the other woman.

“I know that you’re not interested in creating things just to sell them, that you only create when you feel like it or when you’re bored, but I’m not suggesting that you become a creative machine, sitting at an office and pumping out goods for the rest of your life. I’m suggesting that you keep doing what you’ve always done, just with me. And that instead of throwing away whatever your momentary creativity puts into the world, you let me find a use for it.”

Pero held his breath, hoping with every fibre of his being that Abby would at least agree to think about it, because this was a really good idea. It would allow you to buy some time to heal while still keeping your business alive and perhaps even your old client base from moving on. And even though your friend probably disagreed, it would be good for her too. Such a job would still permit her all the freedom that she was used to, just with a permanent base to stand on.

“Yeah, okay. I’m in,” she suddenly declared, and Pero felt himself go into mild shock.

Really? Just like that, she was onboard?

“A-Are you serious?” you stammered, clearly just as struck as your partner.

“I’ve never been very good at being serious about stuff, have I?” she asked, but it was less of a question and more of a statement. “Honestly, Bee… ever since the abduction, and then all the shit that followed, I’m not sure that I even know how to go back to life as usual. This past week, being back in my apartment, I’ve never felt so alone.”

“Oh, Abs… Why didn’t you call me?” you asked, clearly saddened to hear that your dearest friend had been struggling without telling you.

“Because for once, I wanted to actually deal with what I was feeling. For real, you know. I always talk to you when I’m going through something, but I never really let myself just be in that circumstance, in those feelings. But I did this time, and guess what? Nothing terrible happened. I was sad and I felt like everything I’d normally do to cheer myself up was just crap, and then it passed, and I was alright. The world didn’t end.”

He could hear a smile in her voice in that last part, and without even seeing you, he knew that you were smiling too.

“So, I’m not gonna pass up a chance to work with my best friend every day, and maybe finally carve out some actual meaning in my life. And if it helps you stay on your feet and feel like you have a chance to come back, then of course I wanna do it,” Abby finished, and he heard the two of you embrace and exchange soft laughter.

He left you alone then, deciding that leftovers weren’t important enough to disturb such a precious moment, and quietly snuck back into the kitchen. And when he came back there, Dean gave him a quizzical brow, clearly aware that merely asking you a question wouldn’t have taken him so long. Pero held up a finger to his lips, to let your father know not to ask about what he’d been up to, just in case you might overhear it.

Which was perhaps hypocritical, and a bit ironic. Then again, it was also harmless.

Later, in the car on your way home, he let you tell him all about your conversation, not once hinting that he already knew all about it, because you were so excited. For the first time since your hand had been damaged, you seemed truly optimistic about the future, ready to believe that even if you didn’t have all the answers yet, things would still work out somehow. And it made him so happy to see that hope in you.

But his joy was quickly snuffed out when you reached your house and found a police cruiser parked in your driveway and Detective Jones sitting on your front porch.

“Somehow, I’ve got a feeling that this isn’t gonna be a holiday greeting card exchange,” you mumbled as you unbuckled your seatbelt after turning the engine off.

“I’ll get Groot,” Pero said, but you put a hand on his arm to halt him.

“No. She knows what he can do, she might consider that a threat.”

“Preciosa, when an armed police officer is waiting for us to come home, I consider her a threat,” he griped, and you scowled at him.

“Let’s just find out what this is about before we start throwing punches. She’s helped us before.”

He wanted to remind you that she hadn’t really had much of a choice when she’d done that, and been ambivalent about her involvement throughout, but you were already stepping out of the car by then, so he quickly followed instead.

“Hey, Jones,” you greeted once you’d stepped around the car, and she nodded.

“Bee, Pero. I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news,” she offered, and you threw a worried glance at him as you both made your way up the steps to join her on the porch.

“What’s going on?” you wondered, crossing your arms over your waist, already subconsciously trying to defend yourself.

“Some corporate bigshot showed up at the precinct this morning, accusing the two of you of destroying his factory and killing all of his staff,” Kate bluntly explained, and you both froze. “Now, obviously I already know a lot more than I should about all this, which is why I’m puzzled by the fact that this man claims that it was Bee who did most of the damage.”

“That is a lie,” Pero countered, taking a small step forward, just enough that he was closer to the Detective than you.

“I know,” Jones confirmed, “but there’s more. This man has presented evidence of his supposed findings, in the form of video footage of Bee shooting a man in the head.”

Pero suddenly went cold. Because he’d taken care of all the evidence, the footage had been erased, and all prints and blood-smears had been corrupted by a chemical process involving gas. He knew how to leave no trace behind, even in a large building.

The brothers had never named who their investors were, but now that he thought about it, it was reasonable to assume that those investors would’ve had deep pockets and plenty of resources. Surely, enough to survey the Falcons without their knowledge, and if they were smart, create backdoor entrances into their systems so that they could steal or at least store all their data, in case it would turn out to be useful down the line.

He felt idiotic for not considering this earlier, because he knew how companies like this operated, it had been his job to understand and circumvent strategies like this. But he’d been so relieved to have it over with, to get to go home with you unharmed, that he hadn’t wanted to think about it anymore. Most corporate bigshots knew to cut their losses, to just let businesses die when they no longer generated a profit, so he’d told himself that it was safe to let it go.

Unfortunately, whoever this person was, he was clearly not your typical businessman.

“Bee is innocent,” he persisted, taking another step, putting himself more in between you and the Detective.

“I believe you, Pero. I know that she only did what she had to,” Kate offered, but her eyes were grim. “But I still have to take her in. I have to at least pretend to investigate this.”

“No.”

He took another step, this time completely blocking Jones’ access to you, and she took a step back, recognizing that she had no chance of getting to you unless he allowed it.

“Listen to me… I won’t let anyone take her away, or do anything to her, but if I don’t detain her and get an investigation started, I’m gonna have to explain why, and that would mean having to expose both myself, and your entire family in this mess,” she clarified, but Pero didn’t care.

He was not about to let anyone take you away in handcuffs, not even a cop that he actually did have a modicum of trust in. It simply would not happen. But then a warm hand slipped into the crook of his elbow, shifting his focus back to you, and when he turned back to look at you, you smiled softly and stepped forwards, until your back was turned to the Detective.

Then you let go of him and pulled your arms back, offering Kate the opportunity to cuff you, and Pero almost reached around you to snap her neck the moment he saw her reach for the metal bracelets.

“Honey, stop,” you said firmly, knowing where his head was at and that only you could halt him. “We can’t fight unless we know who’s accusing us, so I’m gonna go along and you’re gonna let me, because that is the fastest way that we’re gonna learn what this is and how we stop it.”

There was no fault to your reasoning, he knew that. But you were his entire world and if you left with the police, he wouldn’t be allowed access to you for an unspecified amount of time, and that was unacceptable.

“I will find them and stop them myself,” he growled, and he knew that it was a threat that he could make good on.

“I don’t doubt it. But if this man knows who we are, then what’s to stop him from using Dean or Abby against us? You can’t protect all of us, especially if you’re off hunting, and I can’t let them become targets again because of me,” you argued with clear determination, finally breaking through the red mist of anger that had settled over his mind, opening the gates to his fear instead.

“I cannot stand back and just watch you get taken from me…” he tried, but where his mind was crumbling, yours had turned into steel.

“Call dad and tell him to get Abby and go to a safe place,” you said, and it wasn’t a suggestion. “Then… we can fight.”

With that, you stepped forward and kissed his cheek, and then allowed Kate to lead you off the porch and into her cruiser. He kept his eyes on the floor until he heard the car back out of the driveway, because if he looked at you while there was still a chance that he could stop this, he would. You met his eyes for just a moment before the car turned away, and you still looked so solid and so certain.

But then you were gone, and without you, all of Pero’s restraint died.

===============

Link to Part 18

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

@idreamofboobear @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @sjdraws-00 @shsoba05 @radiowallet @thisshipwillsail316 @myfavpedrothings @cannedsoupsucks @bluegalaxyprime @tintinn16 @winter-fox-queen @shadesofnerdlygrace @tanzthompson @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @xlostitx @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @harriedandharassed @bilibiche

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x female reader #pero tovar x fem!reader #pero x reader #modern!pero #modern!au #the great wall modern au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #sirowsky stories

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haryuwu · 10 months

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🪞 Twisted Wonderland | Le Mirage

Author's Note: After updating chapter 2, I feel a bit more confident to share the next ones! Also, thank you for those who reblog them! I really appreciate that! ToT

"Aah! Merveilleux..! You've done a splendid turn, monsieur Crabapple!" An exclamation of praise showered the purple boy named Epel Felmier who has been rehearsing at the ballroom with Rook Hunt, the vice housewarden of the dorm. His groans and pants were echoing within the room along with Rook's loud applause.

"Will…this be fine…?" Wiping off his sweat with the towel Rook provided, he asks for his opinion about his performance. He was unsure if his skill is really improving or lacking during his vigorous training…Or was it Rook’s infinite positive comments that has led him nowhere?

"Oui! I am certain that Roi du Poison, even Mademoiselle Mirage, would be delighted to see your parfaite danse! Truly magnifique!"

"Uh…thanks," Receiving compliments from Rook, Epel felt much more confident to perform for the Saintess within the house of Pomefiore. Who wouldn't want to witness her being pleased about their act of service? To serve the Saintess for her second debut celebration would be such an honor for everyone. Just seeing her presence would be a huge blessing. But something has been itching him to speak about it.

"May I ask you something, Rook?"

“Of course, mon ami! Tell me, what has been concerning you?” typical of Rook, he openly accepts any inquiries that he thinks would be advantageous for his data gathering. As a hunter himself, something like this is natural especially when an individual is more curious of what has been going inside his head.

Unfortunately, he could not answer anything personal as he does not like anyone prying in his privacy. But answering Epel’s question won’t be a problem due to his hunch that his concern is not entirely about him.

“Well, I’ve been rehearsing this dance for the Saintess but…weren’t we told earlier by the Prefect and Grim that the ball won’t be adding any performances anymore?” Silence between the two suddenly grew, but the smile on Rook’s face did not fade. He may be looking unbothered by the notice the prefect of Ramshackle dorm has delivered, but it has been leaving Epel an awkward feeling to continue the rehearsal.

“Indeed, you’re right about that,” Rook finally uttered with his smile still unwavering. Epel on the other hand is beginning to think if Rook’s feeling rather upset about this news. He could only stare at his complexion that seems to be looking stable.

"But do not fret, this performance of ours is not all for naught! It would be such a shame not to share the beauty of arts we've been eagerly honing."

"So I have come to a conclusion! Once Mademoiselle Mirage sets foot into our dorm's lounge, we shall perform this dance without having to stand nor be in contact with her then everything will be swell!"

"So we have to let her be our audience while we perform? I see now, that's a great idea!" Epel got rid of his assumptions of Rook being upset about the changes of plans as he knew from him that hunters do encounter unexpected changes when they are out for a hunt.

Rook did mention this earlier before he ended his rehearsal for today. Although he still finds his hunter analogies unsettling at some point.

"I am glad we have come to an agreement, Monsieur Pomette! Now let's make haste and waltz out of the ballroom. We might as well greet Roi du Poison on our way to the lounge," after cleaning up the ballroom, the two left the room before heading for a bath. It was an exhausting day but their preparation for the event has yet to be finalized.

Rook and Epel soon stopped on their tracks when they saw Vil Shoenheit, the housewarden of Pomefiore dorm, walking down the hallway. Rook immediately noticed that their housewarden was looking troubled, so he called his name out of pure concern. "Roi du Poison, your brows are getting too close to each other. That wouldn't be good for your beautiful complexion! Is something troubling you on this wonderful day?"

Vil could only heave out a sigh before explaining his worry. "Ah, Rook. Epel as well…Yes, something has been pestering me the whole day and I couldn't get rid of it from my thoughts," he shook his head with arms crossed. He seemed even more restless after sharing it to the two.

"Another shocking news came to me and I had no choice but to show my face in front of the Mirages. I had no idea it was that lady in their family."

"Are you talking about the Saintess?" Epel took the chance to ask as he was curious about what the Saintess is like. Just knowing about their history is already overwhelming, but knowing who the Saintess is was undeniably a mystery for everyone.

"Well, Roi du Poison resides in the same homeland as the Saintess," Rook answered. He, too, was so interested in the existence of the Saintess that he couldn't contain his boiling exhilaration. "Alas, I wasn't able to know more about her. Not even her physical features, her routines, her preferences, none.

"She was pretty well hidden from the eyes of the public…" There was a glimmer in his eyes. No one could barely point out how this truly intrigues him due to his behavior that causes them great anxiety whenever they are pursued by him.

"Even a skilled hunter like you is having trouble knowing anything about her, huh…But what exactly is the problem here?" Rook and Vil glanced at each other, unable where they had to begin the story. It's not an entirely heavy subject to be discussed, but knowing the two for quite a long time now it is best to share this hidden experience that occurred to Vil years ago. Of course, even Rook has no idea about this happening.

"I have been a bit too reserved about my past, but I guess it wouldn't hurt telling the two of you. Just know that this also shouldn't be discussed nor gossiped about. I wouldn’t tolerate any of this being talked about throughout the event," Rook and Epel agreed on this condition before falling silent to let him tell about his past experiences with the Mirage family.

"Our families have been well acquainted for decades until I was born. As you two already know, the Mirage family has never left their spot as one of the powerful families of mages. They served the royalties and even gained the title as their royal aide."

"The reason why our families' relationship has become sour was because of me breaking our engagement when we're little."

"Engagement…You mean you were her ex-fiancé?!" Epel was stunned about this story they never knew about. He was immediately shushed by Vil whose brows furrowed about how much of a loud mouth Epel is.

"S-Sorry…"

"I cannot believe it, Roi du Poison! Why haven't you told me about such an important history between the two of you?" Rook, who seemed to be slightly saddened about this hidden information, asked about more about this.

As the vice housewarden and the closest aide of Vil, this is truly an important information for him to be able to help him avoid stress and improve his complexion. Dealing with a bothersome yet inevitable history between the two would completely ruin all of his hard work to look much more presentable in the eyes of the guests.

"I couldn't tell you about this as it is not that big of a deal between our families. But the fact that they'll be our guests in this school, they won't stop sending me these ongoing proposals I have been receiving for the past few days," Recalling the pile of papers on Vil's table has made Rook realize what was going on in an instant.

"Ah! Oui, those are letters on your desks that you've rejected. Most of those letters have the initials of L and M. Were those perhaps the initials of the future young administrator of Beau Company?"

"Correct. And she's the youngest lady of the Mirage family, one of the top influencers known not just me and Neige, the Saintess of the Land of Pyroxene," Faint gasps and shared glances, the two are slowly getting a grasp of the situation. Not only did the young lady of the Mirages become the known Saintess, she has already taken the hearts of other people and inherited the skills to be the next head of their family business as well.

She may have a face that the public has never seen, but she still holds an overwhelming power of influence. A star that shines not too brightly yet has always been known by her name.

Louise von Mirage.

Somewhere in Shaftlands…

"A-Achii…!" A lady covered her face and body with her cloak turned around to sneeze as she felt the wind blow coldly. She then adjusted her hood to properly cover herself from the chilling wind. "Have they noticed that I left the manor early? Well thanks to my mother, I was able to get my probation lifted and leave on my own…"

It took her hours to convince the staff of Hunt family’s villas to get her into the teleporters to travel faster. These teleporters weren't known by just anyone. As one of the known Mages, they’ve used these teleporters with consent from the Hunts despite them being away on journeys all the time.

Although she still doubted that her false reason for the staff to believe would last. So, using this teleporter will be her last one as she does not wish to return home without talking to Vil.

The lady prays that the recent letter she sent to him would arrive safely to his chamber and that he reads all of its contents. She does have a feeling that he ignores it all the time. The magic doesn't wear off from those letters, so perhaps he hasn't burned it into crisps.

"As long as it reaches him, he'll come to me…right?"

The lass' platinum gray hair swayed forward as a gentle wind tempts her to proceed to that direction. It hasn't been that long since she had arrived at the Isle of Sages where the Night Raven College can be seen in the north. But how will she step into their school?

The security has been doubled for some odd reason. She worries if it can detect her presence once she steps in and it will notify the headmage. She'll be discovered even if her presence will be acknowledged by the barrier as soon as they caught her sneaking in as well.

"They'll definitely be suspicious of me since no one has seen my face at all."

Walking past the terrifying looking trees, she began to stride on her way nearby Night Raven College's gates. Once she steps onto the pavement through the gate, there will be no chance for her to turn back.

"You'll be fine, they won't see you as long as you apply cloaking magic on yourself. That's right, you've practiced this before…!" Filling her nervous self some encouragement, she finally entered through the gates of the school after going through a repetitive act of reluctancy. Yet an ache still pangs her heart as she goes further into a place she has yet to be welcomed.

To Be Continued

Previous Chapter ➵ Next Chapter

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst rook #twst epel #twst vil #louise von mirage #rook hunt #epel felmier #vil shoenheit #lulu lore #fanfic #twst fan series #le mirage

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tarrenterror25 · 1 year

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Gotham Rogues’ Favorite Christmas/Winter Activities and Headcanons

some thoughts and ideas on what some of the rogues like or would do for fun during the holidays/wintertime!

Note: Mentions of wounds/scars and childhood trauma

Joker: Making obscene snowmen and snowball fights. He doesn’t like to admit it’s fun, he insists it’s only to make a point, but you’ll catch him making snowmen in compromising positions or being maimed all over Gotham. His face shows he’s deep in concentration when he’s making a snowman, but the best sight will be the small smile that graces his grin when he catches a snowflake on his tongue. Is also notorious for throwing snowballs at other Rogues when they least expect it.

Riddler: Loves going to see Christmas lights. He’s hitting you with trivia the entire time, too. He likes the intricate science behind the lights, the work that goes into them creating images or going along with music. He indeed sets up a Christmas display at his hideout and yes, it is the best out of all the Rogues. He’s the best at wrapping gifts and Christmas cards because he likes to make games out of them.

Two-Face: Actually really likes just staying inside and watching movies. The cold irritates his scarred side too much so he has to lotion up and wear long sleeves, sweats, and fuzzy socks. He throws on the humidifier and puts on his favorite movie which is The Grinch (just a bad guy trying to do some good). Winter is the perfect weather for soup which is the easiest thing for him to eat since it doesn’t require chewing and won’t mess with his exposed teeth. Super thankful for the Gotham equivalent of UberEats and Doordash.

Harley Quinn: Loves to make gingerbread houses and she’s really good at them! She gifts the other rogues houses that resemble them and their hideouts. She adds silly little details like a cookie that looks like Two-Face’s coin or one shaped like Batman falling into acid for Joker. Penguin was very impressed with her house made to look like the Iceberg Lounge. She did some sugar work to get the dance floor and glass fixtures just right.

Poison Ivy: Christmas is a rough for Pam since it’s plants being unalived left and right, not to mention all the trees being cut for firewood and to be used as decorations. She does enjoy ice skating though. She isn’t very good at it so she often prefers to go it alone. Harley insists they do it together because it’s more fun with friends. Harley holds Pam’s hand and assures her that not being good at it is nothing to be ashamed of. She didn’t learn her acrobat tricks without a little practice!

Scarecrow: He’s a simple man. He likes to start up the fireplace, cozy up with a good book, and enjoy a cup of hot chocolate. He loves watching the snow; how still the world is. There’s an eeriness to the weather that he loves. He and Edward swap book recommendations especially when the weather is particularly bad and they can't leave their hideout.

Penguin: He is out and about more often this time of year than any other; he loves it! His Iceberg Lounge is actually busier this time of year as well. He’s in a great mood this time of year and during the holidays is extremely generous. The Rogues enjoy visiting his lounge once a week for a free round of drinks. He enjoys giving presents to his fellow Rogues on Christmas.

Mr. Freeze: Hardly anyone sees Victor since he’s always working and is spending as much time as he can with Nora (while she’s on ice). During the coldest days of Gotham he does step out of his suit. He loves getting to feel the wind on his cheeks and being able to see with his own eyes rather than through his suit. He makes ice sculptures too. He’s taken up a hobby when he isn’t working and he gets to use the city as his canvas. Citizens are sure to spot the romantic sculptures around the city.

Black Mask: A total scrooge. People expecting gifts? A gift from him is not killing you. Christmas and this time of year reminds him too much of his childhood; his parents forgetting him while they went out to Christmas parties, watching other kids get gifts from their parents while he was lucky if his own even remembered he existed. Thankfully, Harvey knows what having a difficult parent(s) is like and he always extends an invite for Roman to come over and binge those Christmas baking shows while they eat pizza. Reluctantly will admit that he really loves peppermint and he’s addicted to candy canes.

#Gotham rogues #gotham #batman #arkhamverse #two face #joker #harley quinn #poison ivy #scarecrow #penguin #mr. freeze #harvey dent #rogues gallery #rogues #batman arkham knight #jonathan crane

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schlagerkopf · 1 year

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Ableben

On paper, I’m supposed to despise Naftaly Bennett, very much so. But I don’t. I think he’s a solid dude. His external look gives me some kind of chill vibe. He’s got that Cheshire cat look. He’s the type of person I want to dance with, soaked in sweat, in a wedding or a big event.

Maybe it’s not Bennett I should despise, but his manager – the genius who came up with the elections slogan “Something new is happening”. This insanely transmittable slogan that showed on buses and other random places I’ve been and went these last few months has kept reminding me that terrible moment in which I was given the bad news that “something new is happening”.

It happened today exactly one year ago. Friday night, 15th of June 2012. I was 26, two months and four days. Lying on my bed, my old N95 phone from 2007 was stuck to my left ear. My airconditioner was making noises of working, hardly making anything cool – I wasn’t cool in any way, not the situation, not me. On the Friday night news in the living room, my parents were watching the panelists laughing about something, while I was slowly dying in my sinking bed. The room was lit only by the hour on the digital counter on the TV cable transmitter – eternalizing the hour in which love died. I won’t be 100% true if I will argue it is exactly what she said – “something new is happening”. Maybe it was “something is beginning”. Her stream of words continued without pause, her voice sounding as if she is a little unsure, trying not to hurt – but knowing how much it hurts, how much pain it brings about.

“He’s not sleazy, he’s really sweet”.

And then started my elegant pleas for another chance:

“I love you”

“Give love another chance”

“Please”

And the likes.

That also had a pretty built-in response, that was pretty much based around “too little, too late”.

“It’s over Amir, you do not hear how many ‘No’s’ I’m giving you in this conversation”.

Then: “Good luck in the exams”.

That’s it. Alles ist vorbei. I’m left alone, shocked, crying like a baby with my old ass phone, while everyone’s already got smartphone, and she’s probably going to kiss him and do other deeds that I will never ever do again with her in this dimension.

She tapped that long red thingy on iPhones to end the convo. For me it was a simple “END” button. And when they were hit, that’s it, it was over. One year and ten months. 18 months overall. 547 days. And that’s it. A little button is pressed, a little dance of a finger, and we turn from actuality to history. A notable part of two people’s lives has ended. One, as it seems, only wants to forget it. The other, good god, a 26 year old and 4 months man, crying like a baby.

Yeshayahu Leibowitz was an Israeli public intellectual who said interesting things. On one show in 1994 he was asked if he missed old Israeli politicians, from the age of those who built up and founded Israel. He answered with his special accent that hints he was not born in Israel himself, that he does not understand the question.

“I do not understand the question. What does it mean to miss a person?”

The person who asked the question tried to sharpen, resulting in Leibowitz simply saying:

“All of these – they were right for their hour. And we are dealing in this hour”.

I watched this some sad evening and it lifted me up immensely. Here’s a role model. What is it to miss someone, at all? What good does it do? It helps nothing, it’s not constructive. What was once, was. What matters is now.

If Leibowitz indeed didn’t miss anyone, he was a superhero of sorts, and the strongest one. Superman can fly, yeah, sure, but doesn’t he miss someone? And Spiderman? Doesn’t Batman miss his parents?

Missing is my kryptonite. It makes me weak. Especially when I am in my bed, full of memories and so empty, and especially if it happens in a late-night hour.

Missing is a sort of alchemy. It’s not something real, existing, it’s not something you can touch or smell. Mine is the worst kind of longing. It’s for something that was but isn’t. I believe the Portuguese call it “Saudade”. You can miss your friend but you know you’ll see them next week. And you can miss your lover, knowing you’ll never see them again.

It’s hard to write about breakups. I wrote her a letter two weeks after the breakup. It was six pages and I’ve included some chocolate and a flower. It didn’t help. Because writing about breakups is futile, in a sense.

It’s hard to write about breakups because seemingly there isn’t much to say. I mean, yeah, ok, there is, but what will I say? It’s a paradox seeing that I’m in the midst of writing a long piece about breakups. It also doesn’t go with the fact that if it weren’t for breakups, most music we would be listening to nowadays would be instrumental. So, let’s agree that there’s a lot to say about breakups but at the same time there isn’t – life is complicated like that. I can say that I am hurting so much but how will I transmit this pain to you, the reader? The longing, the pain, the regret, the heaviness on the chest at 2am, when you wake up from a dream where she still loves you, and you realize reality is here and she doesn’t anymore. She used to, a lot, but no anymore. No more “good morning” text messages.

And what can you say anyway? “Time heals”. “Many fish in the sea”. I spent all of summer 2012 depressed in my room, what a waste. Sleeping on the pillow she bought me for my 25th birthday. A 90s boombox she once found and gifted me on a random morning where we said goodbye with a kiss, five months before she dropped the bomb on me – if to quote the Gap Band.

On the morning of June 5th 2012, after she spent the night over at my place, we just kissed and she got into her car and left to work. It was just another goodbye. How was I to know it was the last one ever? That it’s the last time I ever see her? The last time I see her in a world where she loves me? In a world, in a galaxy, where she has love for me in her loving heart? I thought about this moment for so long, about our last kiss – not knowing it is our last kiss. Maybe she knew already? Just a kiss and she left. I was clueless. Like I always am.

In university, I studied about Martin Heidegger the philosopher. The professor talked about a word in German named “Ableben”. Like many others in Deutsch, it has many meanings, one of them is “Came to an end.

I see the word as the following: “An idea that came to an end. An idea that died. The idea that was between her and me, love, has come to an end. Suddenly, one side decided it is over, and the other side must deal with that.

And that’s something I learnt about breakups in the sad year that I had since she said the words that ended up meaning “it’s over”. Breakups are TOTAL. That is why they are so hard to accept, why it’s so hard to let go. If you don’t accept the breakup you’re not in tune with reality. But reality doesn’t ask you. It’s a madness, like The Stranglers called it in their song “La Folie”. It’s crazy to think and cry about someone all the time, dedicating all that brain power to someone who, maybe on a good day, dedicates you two neurons. Why don’t you do something better with your time? It’s like dancing on a grave.

And here is the realness of “Ableben”. It’s not like somebody died. It’s an idea that died. It’s so abstract. No more good morning and night texts. No more emails that come in the right time in the middle of the day, filling you with love and hope. No more I love you’s, no more kisses and hugs. This all came to its bitter sad end at a certain moment.

I thought a lot about the moment in which love dies. I understand it’s a long process, stopping to love someone who you love dearly. You don’t stop loving in one second. But it feels like it’s some epiphany, some inner switch that you go to sleep loving Amir and you wake up not loving Amir anymore. And it’s so hard for me to fathom how you can stop loving someone you’ve shared so much with, that you were such close friends and lovers.

And it’s crazier that I lover her still, as I write these lines. Of course, not as strongly as I loved her last year, but I still love her. I’ll always love her, even if I don’t know who she is right now, she’s changed. I can feel closer to the woman in the grocery shop than her. And even though I am mad at her and understand that breakups exist and it’s part of life. I still can’t understand how you do that to someone who you call a friend. I stopped caring about the singing of the birds in the morning, and that’s the greatest loss.

And the memories, my my, the memories. They keep playing. It’s like self-torture. Some streets I won’t dare walk through in Tel-Aviv. The bench from August 2010 here we kissed on our first date. When something new was happening and nothing was ending. I still miss her and who she is and what we were. Our long hugs every time we met. And I regret my actions that led her to another’s arms. And still I bite my lips whenever I pass by that garden where we shared our first kiss and look at the empty bench and grass and try to understand that feeling that is so amorphic, knowing that something is dead and that something else, new, has begun, and that new thing is the most beautiful thing in the world but you’re not part of it, you’re dead in the water; for me the new thing died, and I continue staring at the “Game Over” screen.

#writing #love #heartbreak #sadness #romantic

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yutahoes · 2 years

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Just a crush

pairing: dance teacher! ice cream man! Osaki Shotaro x dance student! Y/N word count: 2.2k words genre: fluff summary: A chance encounter only made your dance teacher much attractive in your eyes. warnings: none that I know of

for the Summer Jobs Collab Call hosted by @bangchan-fairy I’m sorry if this is super late

taglist: @joepomonerof @iwannabreathetosetmefree @yujaesbestiee @jaesqueso @notmejustmymind @what-sarah @nuoyipeach @xxhaneulxx @degreeandfangirling @channie301 @a-place-filled-with-random @imjaeforyou @yeolsechanhun @multiyuta @notworthit24 @anonjyxd @sourirensoleille @ytzvivi @queensnowdon @yutiddies @blueeyedlove-blog1 @coolkimchijoy16 @mamamohatd0g @trashlord-007 @felixglow

The summer was scorching hot. The heat makes all the water in your body dry, making your body unable to move under the tremendous heat. You thought it was normal. Who would even survive a hot summer like this?

But maybe it's because of your age.

You aren't that old. But your little brother begs to differ. How come he had the overflowing energy under this heat? It also annoys you that you had to babysit him this summer season.

Instead of just staying in your air-conditioned room, reading romance books, and imagining your own romantic getaway on a tropical island, you have to come with your brother to the community playground and let him play or your mom would scold you.

It was super hot that five minutes from just sitting on the park bench had made you finish the water you brought. So this is how grilled meat feels like above the griller? You were sweating so hard that it feels like you just took a bath with how wet you felt. Should you go home now? But your brother would hate you. And you cannot leave him alone.

A bell ringing caught your attention and you stared at the source of sound where children are running to. An ice cream cart. Perfect in this summer heat. "Noona, let's go buy ice cream." Your brother called and you nodded. It's the only best thing he said this summer.

It does feel weird to be waiting in line in front of the ice cream cart and surrounded by small kids. You were tempted to ask your brother to just buy you ice cream when you caught sight of the person manning the cart. He looks just like Shotaro. Your eyes widened in surprise seeing the guy with moon-shaped eyes, wearing his cap backward. "What can I get you?" It is indeed Shotaro Osaki. He looked startled seeing you as well. "Oh, Y/N. You live in this area?"

Wait, he knows who you are?

“Noona, you know each other?” You had to nod and introduce the other as your dance teacher in the academy. “That’s so cool! The ice cream man is also your dance teacher.”

Shotaro giggled, his eyes forming crescent moons that made him so charmingly boyish. His persona is so different when he’s in the dance academy. Your brother introduced himself while the other guy started scooping ice cream into the cone. You’re not used to him being this chatty since he’s always serious while dancing. “Noona,” your brother called, which made you shake your head, breaking your trance. Shotaro was handing you a cone of ice cream while smiling.

You took out your wallet for the payment but he only shook his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. But this will be our little secret, okay?” You nodded, thanking him and promising that no one in your dance class would know. He smiled at the other kid, which is your cue to leave.

The interaction was so bizarre. It felt so confusing.

How can your serious dance teacher be the smiley ice cream man? Does Shotaro have a twin brother that you weren’t aware of? That’s the only logical reason why he had a three sixty degree change in personality.

When your eyes met in the dance studio, he gave you the same smile as he did in the playground. Your brother was right, the ice cream man is your dance teacher.

To be honest, there’s nothing wrong with that. From the other students, you heard that he lives alone in your country and that he’ll probably need all the money to survive alone. Hence, all these jobs. And selling ice cream in the middle of summer is just genius.

What’s weird is how you felt about this fact.

You cannot deny that you found Shotaro admirable the first time he introduced himself as your dance teacher. He’s not that old, probably just around the same age as you. But he already established himself as a great dancer. Watching him dance is like watching art. You were always enthralled by the way he made choreographies easily and his charismatic performances. Now, seeing him outside the dance academy with a friendly aura is making your heart tremble. You don’t know why his smile would make your knees weak. You didn’t know why you wished that only you could see this side of Shotaro.

“You like him, don’t you?" Your brother asked that made you whip your head in his direction. The two of you are on your way home, eating the ice creams Shotaro had given you for free, again. “You were blushing so hard when he gave you the ice cream cone.” You weren’t. It’s just the heat. “Noona, I think Shotaro hyung likes you too.”

You stopped in your tracks, the ice cream melting on your fingers, as you stared at your brother in surprise. "What?"

"He always gives you free stuff." he claimed then licked his ice cream. "It's a sure sign that he's into you."

Why is your brother saying those words? Is he that clueless about liking someone? Shotaro liking you? That's impossible.

Maybe it was the thought implanted by your brother in your mind that you have seen Shotaro in a different way. He seemed like he was shining on the dance floor and even if he was getting mad at the students, he still looked charming. Whenever he would greet you, with a smiling face, while buying ice cream, your heart would beat crazily in your chest. What is this conspiracy?

It felt weird seeing him. You cannot have these feelings growing for him when he's just being nice to everyone. Your feelings felt wrong so you decided to shrug it off. The decision to quit the dance academy, although you love dancing, came along with the decision of not coming with your brother to the park.

Your mother and brother were both surprised when you told them you wanted to stay home at first. "Did you and Shotaro hyung fight?" You shook your head, surprised at what your brother claimed. Your mom asked who Shotaro is and the younger nonchalantly exclaimed, "The guy noona likes."

"I do not!" But your mom was already giving you a knowing smile which made you pout. Is it really that obvious?

The air in your room feels cool, a complete contrast to the scorching heat outside. You spend days reading books and every time the lead male character does something romantic, you envision your dance teacher in your head. A satisfying movie scene in your head that you would quickly try to erase. That would be weird. So to distract yourself, you would just go outside your empty home to get something to eat. Ice cream is the best choice because of the heat. But it will just remind you of the ice cream vendor in the park.

Why does everything remind you of him? You need to distract yourself away from thoughts of Shotaro.

--------

The loud trendy sound of the club welcomed you as you entered the place where you were meeting your friend. It really is surprising that you agreed to meet her when you were so lazy going out. "You're the only dancer I know so I want you to assess my moves," she begged and you only smiled, nodding at her. How would she react if she finds out that you quit the dance academy? You can't also possibly say that the reason is your dance teacher because that will be weird.

A sigh escaped your lips. You were supposed to distract yourself, that's why you agreed to meet her. But why are you thinking about Shotaro again? In annoyance, you just drank the pink lemonade in one gulp. "Hey, calm down. You can't be drinking that much." Your eyes widened in surprise seeing Shotaro taking your now empty glass. He chuckled realizing what your drink is. "Sorry, I thought you were drinking alcohol."

What is he doing here? Why is he here? When your friend greeted him, you realized why. You didn't know that they belong to the same dance team. She asked why you knew 'Taro' and you quietly said that he's your dance teacher. "Before she quit the academy." Your friend looked surprised and you mouthed an apology to her.

The name of their dance crew was called to the stage and you clapped, shouting to cheer them on. Shotaro was placed in the middle and smiled your way before the lights turned off. Your heart kept beating in your ear. You weren’t even sure if it was because of the bass of the music or because of the main dancer’s charisma. Your eyes would always lock with Shotaro and he would smile, or occasionally smirk, making the heat come up your cheeks. Now, you are sure that you cannot shrug off these feelings anymore.

Once done with their performance, you excused yourself from your friend. You needed to get out of the club, breathe in fresh air and stay away from these feelings for Shotaro. Should you call for your mom to pick you up? Maybe you’ll just take the subway since it’s still early. Yes, maybe you can still think clearly while on your way home. “Y/N!” someone called and you turned to see the person you were running from. “It’s already dark. I’ll walk you home.”

What? “No, it’s fine. I’m taking the subway.”

“I’ll walk you to the subway.” You cannot say anything. How should you decline his offer? This is bad. You should make an excuse to be alone. “Are you alright?” You whipped your head in his direction, looking really curious at his question. Do you not look alright? “Are you uncomfortable with me?”

Quickly, you shook your head to refute his words. “I don’t.” Although you are. You hated how your heart kept beating so loud in your chest, how your cheeks were heating up when he moved to the dangerous side of the road. You felt like puking at the idea that you like Shotaro very much but he’s just a friendly guy who is nice to everyone. “Why would you think that?”

“I’m sorry. I just thought that maybe I was making you uncomfortable with my feelings.” Your eyes widened in surprise. His feelings? “I like you.” You blinked twice then even tried to mentally kick yourself. This must be a dream. Shotaro wouldn’t say those words in the middle of the crowded street. “You were always smiling in dance classes and I’ve seen how passionate you are when dancing. The first time I saw you with your brother in the park, with how caring you are even to the other kids, I thought you’re really charming.”

A heavy breath escaped your lungs. Wake up, Y/N! This dream is getting out of hand. “I was surprised when you quit the dance academy then you stopped going to the park.” He continued. Although you want to, you cannot stop him from spewing words that made the hope in your heart grow bigger. “When I asked your brother about it, he teased me saying that I have a huge crush on you.” You rolled your eyes, maybe you’ll kill your brother later. “But your mom also said that it’s obvious that I like you so I thought you also knew.” His voice became quiet as you gasped, “I’m sorry for burdening you with my feelings but I really like you, Y/N.”

The sight in front of you makes your heart clench in your chest. You were used to seeing a charismatic Shotaro whenever dancing and a boyish Shotaro whenever smiling with his snapback. But now, with his puppy eyes and two hands covering his face, he looked like a little boy. How cute! “For the record, I didn’t know about it.” You confessed then breathed heavily. “I also like you, Shotaro.”

His eyes became moon-shaped, lips curled up as a small giggle can be heard. So cute! “Then should we start again and let our feelings grow together, Y/N?” You nodded. Why is Shotaro so adorable?

“Do you want to get ice cream?”

He laughed while holding out his hand in front of you, palm up. You slipped your hands on his, fingers laced on each other. “Ice cream it is.” He claimed in his soft voice, squeezing your hand while pulling you closer to him. He stopped in his tracks which made you look at him, “Speaking of ice cream, I think I have to come clean as well.” You raised an eyebrow, curious at what he was going to say. “Selling ice cream is just an excuse to see you. I only have to do it the first time but when I saw you, I kept begging my friend if I could take over his job.”

You laughed wholeheartedly. Why is he getting cuter and cuter every second that you’re together? “You do have a huge crush on me, ice cream man.” He grinned, looking like a schoolboy.

From charismatic Shotaro. To boyish Shotaro. Cutie Shotaro. Ice Cream Man Shotaro. And now, schoolboy Shotaro. You wondered how many personalities of Shotaro can you discover while dating him.

You squeezed his hand, moving closer to him. Well, you’ll just have to find out.

#summer jobs collab ☀️#shotaro #osaki shotaro #shotaro fluff #osaki shotaro fluff #shotaro fic #osaki shotaro fic #nct shotaro #nct osaki shotaro #shotaro x reader #osaki shotaro x reader #nct collab

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namii-fm · 2 years

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under the sun | jjk

The summer sun was nearly unbearable-

The suns rays scorched your skin, not to mention the air that was smoldering. The heavy heat made it difficult to breathe, much less work in these conditions.

Yet, here you were. You stood in the back of the greenhouse displacing your last order of the day. You worked quickly to transfer the last few calla lillies from their plots and into the arrangements. Calla lillies were the prettiest summer flowers, in your opinion.

A bunch had been ordered earlier in the day, and a nice lady on the phone reserved them for pickup- but that wasn't until after your shift. You grabbed the last of the arrangements and headed back into the store where you set them in the stand behind the counter. As another bead of sweet pearled between your brows, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

jk ♡

you're headed home now right honey ? make sure to drink some water, its only getting warmer out here

A small smile bent your lips, and you quickly confirmed to your boyfriend that you were indeed clocking out and on your way back home.

Your boyfriend Jungkook was the sweetest and most caring man you had ever known in your life. He was also one of the busiest, and most talented men you have ever known. He toured the world, composed music, perfected dance routines, performed, and even in that never ending list of things he was responsible for, he still somehow managed to squeeze being your boyfriend into the very top echelon of his priorities.

The last few months had been rough, his group seemed to achieve levels of success they had never before pictured, and they were closing out on the biggest tour of their lives thus far. But Jungkook had let you know a few days ago that it all was coming to a close and as sad as he was that it was ending, he really could not wait to come home to you.

"-Mhm and guess what I found while we were in the city? That lego set you wanted, the orchid one!"

You had squealed in excitement, recalling the first time JK came home with a lego flower bouquet for you. After that night where you and him sat on the floor of the living room putting it together, sharing little kisses in between the lego pieces, you insisted you had to have the entirety of the botanical collection.

"I can't wait for you to see it, I really just can't wait to see you at all actually. I love what I do endlessly and I couldn't imagine my life any other way, but god I think I love you just as much. I've had a great time here but I just can't wait to hold you again. Guess what baby? I'll be home in only four days now!"

You walked home in bliss. The sun was blaring like it had been all day, beads of sweat dampened your scalp and god did your feet hurt from a busy day at the shop, but even just the thought of Jungkook was enough to satiate your discomforts.

Before you even recognized it you turned the corner onto your street and approached the home you shared with Jungkook, whenever he wasn't away that is. You reached to press your key into the lock and realized that strangely enough, the door wasn't locked at all.

This made your eyes grow just a bit, because you were sure you locked it on your way out for work. You gripped the mace on your keychain before meekly pressing on the door to open.

"There you are! I've been waiting for you for thirty minutes!"

"Jungkook!"

The minute his doe eyes met yours, it fully set in that he was sitting before you on the living room floor. On the coffee table in front of him sat a bouquet of calla lillies, the prettiest summer flowers, you always believed. Along with them were other small gifts he had picked up around the world that made him think of you, and lessened the ache of longing in his chest when he thought about how excited and thankful you would be to see them. The lego orchids were nearby as well.

You barreled towards him in a haze. Pebbles of tears had managed to fall from your eyes, and you launched yourself into his arms so forcefully it sent the two of you rolling backwards onto the floor.

"I missed you so much Koo, gosh you didn't tell me you were gonna be here earlier!" If you weren't so busy attacking his face, squished between your two palms now, with kisses on every surface of his skin you would have scolded him properly. Jungkook's laugh was his first response.

"I know bug, I just couldn't miss the chance to surprise you though. And I think getting here earlier has earned me some extra kisses,"

He raised his eyebrows at you in innocence, and you couldn't help but giggle at his cheesiness. "Whatever you want Koo."

Even though the summer was unbearable, and Jungkook had a long and dazing trip back. Even though you had worked all day in the greenhouse, with the sun perspiring on your skin, you and Jungkook remained tangled in each others arms on your living room floor for the next hour. You shared sweet kisses, ran your hands through his dark hair, and enjoyed the feeling of being returned to your rightful spot within your lovers embrace.

The relief of having each other so close after so long was one that was unspoken, but present between you and Jungkook on the living room floor. Unspoken, but present tears graced both of your faces, but smiles did too.

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #bangtan #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #bts imagines #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts scenarios #jungkook x you #bts x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x yn #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot #jungkook scenarios #jeon jeongguk

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four-loose-screws · 1 year

Text

FE7 Novelization Translation - Chapter 10 Section 6

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

Chapter 10: New Resolve (Section 6)

And so, they decided to go to the Nabata Desert, and immediately started to make preparations to leave.

Their destination was a blistering hot desert… In this case, they would need to buy extra drinking water, camels to carry their belongings instead of horses, and many other supplies.

In the midst of all the activity, Oswin visited his lord in the commander's room in secret.

“...Is that you, Oswin? Ah… Ack!” Uther saw his retainer appear, then was hit by a brutal coughing fit. His entire body broke out in a sweat, and his face became even more pale than it had been when Hector first noticed it.

Uther's condition sent Oswin into a panic, who quickly closed the door, then rushed over to his lord and rubbed his back. “Lord Uther, you really should have stayed to rest at the castle…”

“That, I could not do… my brother came to give a report of critical importance. I needed to meet him and hear it directly…" Uther said as he sunk into an armchair.

After Hector left on his journey, Uther had followed Oswin's suggestion and made an appointment with a doctor. That was how he learned that he had the same incurable illness that took their parents.

No matter how powerful the healing staff, nor how great an herbal treatment was said to be at treating all kinds of illness, they could only lessen his symptoms, and not cure him.

When Uther had listened to Eliwood and his allies' report just now, and taken a break for a moment to think about it, he was of course indeed shocked by the severity of the news, but the main reason he left was because he could no longer hold back his cough.

Uther strung his words together through ragged breaths. "...I may not have much longer. If so, then I at least wanted to see Hector’s face one last time…"

"Please, Lord Uther! Don't say such weak-minded things!" Oswin shouted instinctively at his exhausted lord.

But Uther himself quietly shook his head. "I know very well what condition I am in. …There is not even a slim chance that this illness could be healed." Uther was always calm no matter the situation, and remained composed as he handled the challenge in front of him. Even when ill and facing the reality of his death, that did not change. "...If the time does come, Oswin, I will trust your judgment. Please take care of Hector…"

"Lord Uther…"

At those words that could be interpreted as his lord's dying wish, it took Oswin everything he had to hold back the emotions welling up inside of him.

☆

"...It seems that someone is coming our way." Inside of a temple built during ancient times buried within the desert, an old man sensed someone moving towards the desert.

Both his long hair and beard were entirely white, and though he looked very old, he was still able to maintain proper posture and spoke clearly.

"Perhaps it is Lord Pent?" The person next to him asked.

She had beautiful blonde hair, charming purple eyes, and striking facial features, all making her exceptionally good looking. Though her clothes were easy to move around in and lacked any excessive decoration, they were made of fine silk that shone with a smooth luster. The graceful curve of her hand on her cheek, as well as her proper posture even when she was relaxed, were proof that she was of noble birth, and trained in etiquette and dance since she was a child.

"No, they were sent by Uther of Ostia. Hawkeye has already noticed them, and will likely bring them here." The old man answered, then closed his eyes, and focused his mind on the desert.

He had obtained the power to see a place just by picturing it in his mind. With it, he could grasp the location of whomever he wished, without going out into the scorching desert.

"...Your companion is still searching the desert."

"He just can't find it, can he?"

“No, he will obtain it shortly. …More importantly than that though, is that the group of thieves living in the desert has begun to move. By my calculations, they will find and attack him."

"Oh dear…" At his words, she put her hand over her mouth in an expression of concern.

"Are you worried about him?"

"No, Lord Pent will be alright on his own. But if this makes him late to return here, then…"

"Then what?"

"Will you take your dinner before us? I will wait for Lord Pent, but you must be hungry, Archbishop."

"Ha ha ha ha…." He chuckled lightly at her strange choice of words.

"What is it, Archbishop?"

"Louise, you are a truly amusing woman. Ever since Pent brought you here, I've laughed ten years worth of laughs! I am grateful for all you've done."

"I'm not sure exactly what you mean, but what is most important to me is that we have been helpful to you."

Her answer just made him laugh once again.

But the moment Louise said her next words, the Archbishop immediately stopped laughing.

"...By the way, our visitors are from Lycia, correct? For what reason are they coming here?"

"...No one can stop the wheels of fate. But as long as they have hope, humanity will continue to try. …They do not know of the despair awaiting them…"

The archbishop's face had been that of a good, kind old man until now, but it instantly changed to that of a strict, serious expression, like that of a fortune teller foretelling an omen of complete destruction.

#fire emblem #fe7 #fire emblem 7 #fe #the blazing sword #the blazing blade #japan #japanese #translation #gba #lyn #lyndis #eliwood #hector #novel #light novel #game boy advance #fe7 novelization translation

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