#love on hold. but the winds are in favor of a win. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chattahoochiecoochie · 1 year

Text

Audience

Summary: A girlfriend wakes up in bed with her boyfriend(s), and an audience.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Exhibitionism / Excessive Roughness / Voyeurism

A/N: For starters, I strictly watch college football so this whole AFC nonsense is beyond my understanding. If it doesn’t involve an SEC school, I’m not watching. Second off, y’all don’t even want to know how long I sat at my desk looking like a lunatic trying to figure out the physical bit of it all. Madness. If you hate it, I’m innocent. If you love it, I’m gods gift to you. Anyways, find the rest here.

It’s warm when you wake up, a mix of sunlight and body heat radiating over the bed. Sam is already awake on your left, sitting with a water glass in one hand and his phone in the other. With a leg tangled between yours and a hand on your stomach, Joe is on your right, still snoring faintly, the tiniest little sound bleeding out as his chest rises and falls.

Slipping out of his reach, you curl against Sam’s waist, burying your head against his thigh—taking the covers with you to shield yourself from the sun that’s slipping through a gap in the curtains. For half a second, you miss your own bed and the fact that you wake up to windows facing the west most days.

A heavy breath passes through your nose, and you can feel Sam shift beside you. If he’s noticed you’re awake, he doesn’t say anything outright. There’s a shuffle above you, the sound of glass meeting wood as he sets his water down on the nightstand. Soon after, there's a rustle of bed sheets and then a hand on the back of your skull, fingers tangled in your hair. You sigh subconsciously at the sensation, forgetting the thought of your own bed entirely. The attention that's paid to you in this one is worth being woken up by the sun. Smiling softly against his waist, you nuzzle your nose into his boxers.

“Baby?” His voice is low and tentative, sending a warm tingle down your spine. You move against him, letting the duvet slip down from where you’ve been holding it.

The movement answers for you, and slowly but surely, his hand falls from your head as he slides his calloused palm beneath your shirt and over your skin until he lands on the spot between your shoulder blades. Clipped nails scrap against your spine, short up and down motions until you shiver beneath his hand.

With heavy eyes and an arm keeping the pillowy cotton of the comforter at bay, you peek up at him, blinking slowly through the sunlight. He’s looking at you, phone forgotten in his lap. Blue eyes red-rimmed, face slack and tired. It makes you wonder how long he’s been up. It's not unusual for him to be up before you and Joe, often falling victim to his internal clock. But he deserved to sleep in today—with last night’s game and subsequent win—they both deserved a day or two in bed if they wanted it.

You smile softly at him, releasing the comforter altogether in favor of clinging to him. Winding an arm around his waist, you find the other side of his boxers and let yourself play with the band while he waits for you to get your bearings. He’s gentle with you in the mornings, they both are—whether you wake up in their bed or your own—keen on the way you take forever to come to.

“Morning, babygirl.” It’s raspy, said in the same low voice as before. You’re slow to respond, smiling softly at him as the words fall over you.

“Morning, champ.”

His mouth quirks at the nickname, lips curling into an easy smile as he draws his hand upwards, dragging on your spine to reach the base of your neck, tussling your hair until he’s caught in it.

“You sleep okay? Last night was a lot.” He’s earnest, eyes searching your face for an answer before you can even think to give one. The truth is, it’s the best night sleep you’ve had in a while.

Exhausted by the game and the revolving door of tweaked knees, you’d been unprepared for the whirlwind that came after the win. In an instant, they’d gone from third and goal to six points up, with the AFC north championship secured for a second year running. It was madness. The aftermath on the field, the cigars in the locker room amongst a swarm of press personnel. The partying afterward downtown, with fans on every corner.

By the time the three of you stumbled out of an Uber at nearly three in the morning, you could hardly keep your head up or your eyes open. You can pick out flashes of it—them giggling and screaming up the driveway, sudden hushed tones when you’d gotten through the door and into the dark. Someone had carried you up the stairs to bed. Someone else had undone your shoes and gotten you out of your dress. It was a blur, and the sheets had been so warm and so sweet—you’d been gone the moment your head hit the pillow.

You don’t tell him this, instead smiling to yourself as the image of him in the end zone, staring up at the scoreboard, crosses your mind. “I’m good. It was good.” You say, fingers playing across his abdomen. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Yeah?” He’s smirking softly at you, never one to shy away from praise. His success matters to him, and he’s eager to know if it matters to someone else, to you.

You watch with a tired smile as he slides down into the bed next to you, rolling onto his side to face you, smirk permanent on his lips when he’s finally at eye level. His brow is raised, daring you to praise him again. You do.

“Very. You are,” You pause momentarily, pretending to think hard about your next words. “The best defensive back I know.”

“So you know a lot then?” He plays at curiosity, feigning jealousy. You shrug at him, trying to seem playfully nonchalant.

“A few.”

“They’re not like,” He glances down at the mattress for a moment before looking up at you through his lashes, letting them flutter for dramatic effect. The effort makes you giggle. “Two-time AFC North champions, though, are they?”

“Well, lets see, there's Jeff, Trey, Joseph—”

“Okay, let me ask you this then.” He wiggles next to you, putting an arm over your waist as he gets even closer. “You’re not doing all this with any of them, right?”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“You know, waking up in their bed, in their jersey, looking all pretty with your hair a mess.”

You grin at him and shake your head quickly, blushing. “Nope. That’s all you.” You look down at your chest for a second, chin tucked as you inspect the jersey you’re wearing. Glancing back up at him, you smirk. “I think this is Joey’s though, if that matters.”

“I’ll get over it.” His mouth is over yours, the stubble on his chin scratching your skin as he kisses you. He’s softer than usual, dulled by the night before. The hand on your waist is steady, slipping slowly until he’s cupping your face and pressing you into your pillow, tongue sliding on your lip. You let him in, relaxed by his touch.

For a moment, you stay there, underneath him, feeling hazy. He’s easy on you, all smiles and playful bites. Smirking against him, you feel your jaw slacken when his teeth hit yours. He smiles at the contact, grinning against you. Nipping gently at you, his hand leaves your face, pulling what's left of the comforter off of you.

You shiver at the sudden change in temperature, clinging to him as he takes its place over your body. Leg draped over your thighs, he kisses you deeper, sighing when you make a sound under him. He’s sweeter this morning than he often is, gentle as his tongue sweeps over yours. Sweeter still when his hand ghosts over your chest, skimming your breast before landing on your hip, holding you steady when you writhe beneath him.

Arms around his neck, you roll into him, whimpering when your hip meets the heat growing between his legs. It’s searing, pouring off of him in slow, steady waves. You’re so close to him, but if you could just—

You stop short as the mattress dips on the other side of you. Sam goes still on you, watching closely from the corner of his eye as Joe squirms beneath the sheets beside you, shifting closer to you until an arm finds its way around your waist and he pulls his weight to your back, fingers splayed to clutch you tightly.

“Joey?” Asks Sam, peering over you with a brow quirked.

“Morning.” The blond has his face buried in your jersey, drawing shallow breaths against the fabric. He’s warm, the sleepy kind that’s soft and almost damp. He’s hardly awake, it seems, still heavy and rigid on the bed beside you.

“There’s the big guy. How you feeling, buddy?” Sam’s attention fractures and you move against him impatiently, mind clouded by the nerves that had just begun to wind in your stomach.

“That’s king in the north, to you.” You can feel him smile against you as he moves behind you, slipping the jersey off your shoulder to leave a kiss in its place.

“Woke up with an ego, huh?” The words are half lost when he kisses you again. Finally. Forehead against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles against you, there’s a soft smirk playing on his lips when you peck at him, a whine in your throat.

“Something like that. Y’all in the middle of something, or?” Joe leans over your shoulder, resting his chin on your collarbone as Sam nips at your lips, taunting you every time you buck up against his weight.

“Sort of.” It's playful, Sam’s tone. Gentle and teasing, but guilt strikes you anyways, splitting the warmth between your legs like a knife when you glance back to see Joe looking curious.

It’s never been one without the other—ever. Your brow knits in sudden panic. “Did—we can—”

“—Go ahead, then. I’ll watch.” He says it plainly, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. He’ll watch.

Sam looks at you, a familiar glint in his blue eyes. “What’d you say, baby? You wanna give Joey a show?” Your lips part, an answer catching on your tongue. Yes, you want to say, but all you can manage is some sort of nervous squeak.

Understanding you in a way that only they can, the grin on Sam’s face stretches wide. Arm around you, he rolls onto his back, pulling you onto his bare chest. The tired sweetness from before is forgotten, replaced by all the aggression you know he’s capable of.

He’s heavy on you, everywhere all at once. Nails dig into the skin of your thigh before dragging deep scratches up your hip. Hand under your jersey, he’s got his palm on your breast, pressure mounting as he works his fingers over your flesh. It’s blinding—the swell of nerves that flash down your spine with every touch. You fumble next to him, knees weak and hands uncertain as you grasp at him.

He’s enormous compared to you and impossible to grasp at. Going for his waist, where you know you can at least hold the band of his boxers, you miss, skimming his front instead. You groan, lips parted as he kisses you hard—forcing the air out of your lungs as his hand finds your throat.

“Slower Sammy, let her catch up.” Behind you, Joe speaks up, gentle as ever. You’re suddenly aware of him once more, registering the dip in the mattress as he adjusts himself. On you, Sam’s slow to the take, grunting incoherently before finding some of the patience that comes so easily to Joe.

You gasp as his hand relaxes on your neck. Reaching again for the band of his boxers, and with more focus than before, you find the elastic, letting your fingers slip over it to touch the curve of his adonis belt. Sam makes a sound, bucking his hips into your hand. There’s a whine on his tongue when he kisses you next, lips pouting on yours. Hand over yours he pushes your fingers down, holding them over the fabric.

“Tell her what you want.” As if he has to. You can feel him in your hand, heavy and hard and waiting. Needing.

“Touch me.” His voice is raw, husky. You tremble against him, shaking hands tugging at the checkered cotton until he’s bare in your hand. Cradling your head, he’s light underneath you, watching through dark eyes as you touch him.

He shudders, twitching in your hand as his hips buck involuntarily. You glance up at him, blushing when you find his jaw slack, head dropped against the wall. Slowly, you feel him out, dragging your nails up his shaft, delighted when he trembles again. He’s in a plain state of agony, straining to trust you, to be patient.

“Like this?” Brushing your thumb across the head, you look back at Joe. Curious eyes finding his, you let your brow quirk, feigning innocence. He nods at you, mouth set in a tight line. Just like that.

Wrapping your fingers around him, you gently stroke him again before bringing your hand to your mouth. The sound you make is indecent, dribbling as you spit into your palm. Seconds later, you’re reaching for him again only to find his hand in your place, pulling hard.

Putting your hand under his, you do your best to follow his pace, stroking with him until his hand falls to the mattress, limp as he lets you take over. “That’s it. Don’t forget the rest of him, either, pretty girl.”

Beside you, Joe’s flat on his back, head turned to watch you as he rubs a palm over the front of his briefs. His eyes are heavy, voice thick when he speaks. He’s watching you alright, and liking it too.

You follow his instructions, looking over your shoulder at him as you let your nails drag over Sam’s balls, drawing out a loud groan when you roll them between your fingers. You forget them only a second later, pulling your fist back up his shaft as his body rotates into you. Brows knit together, you keep stroking, lip pulled between your teeth as you split your focus between the two of them.

“Baby…” Picking his head up, Sam looks down at your hand, patience waning. “Please.”

“Don’t be mean to him. Go on and use that pretty little mouth.” You glance back at him, shivering as a pulse runs down your legs. Put your mouth on him. Give Joey a show.

Shimmying down the mattress, you’ve got your eyes on Joe when your lips find Sam, tongue sliding over the tip to taste the fluid leaking from it. He’s warm and salty on your lips when you put your mouth over him. The weight of him, the feeling of their eyes on you—you’re drooling in an instant.

“Look at him.” Joe nods towards Sam, rubbing himself steady over his briefs as a stain starts to pool on the fabric. “Look at her Sammy, being so good.”

You can see him above you through your lashes, right hand clutching at his chest, left hand searching for something to hold. He’s got his eyes open, jaw slack. You fight a smirk, hollowing your cheeks instead before taking him deeper. He’s too big and too thick to take for so long, but you try anyway, gagging and drooling as you lose your breath.

“That’s a good girl. Go slow. In through your nose.” Joe’s steady beside you when you glance sideways at him. He’s nodding, baby blue eyes looking eagerly at you. “Hold her head, Sam.”

Moments later, his fingers are in your hair, gripping you tight as he holds you on himself, forcing you down further. He’s deep, pushing past what you can take, and you can feel tears pricking at your eyes. It’s so much at once—too much—and then he’s giving you slack, watching closely through heavy eyes as you cough and gag when his hips relax.

The motion repeats over and over again. Too deep, for too long, and then a second to yourself until tears are running down your face. You’re rubbing your thighs together, watching Joey with panicked eyes as he mouths off more instructions to Sammy. You can hear him, see him, but it’s too much to focus on him as you struggle to breathe.

“Touch.” You catch him saying. Touch what? “Touch him.”

You do, weak hand at the base of his shaft, fingers dragging over his balls as he bucks up into your mouth. His hand is tight in your hair, hips sharp as he thrusts himself into your mouth, meeting the back of your throat with a groan.

“Fuck, Joey. I can’t—” The hand on you goes limp, falling to the mattress as he spills into your mouth, pooling on your tongue until you can do little else but swallow and drool. It’s warm, familiar, and the finality of it makes you sigh heavily as you collapse onto his lap.

It’s quiet for a moment, save for Sam’s racing heartbeat and your own shaky breath. Joe’s somewhere close, looming next to you when you finally summon the strength to open your eyes. Your lips are tacky, and you swallow hard before licking at them, a shallow mewl slipping out when you taste what’s left behind.

Leaning up next to you, Joe’s reaching for you, wiping the drool from your chin with his thumb before bringing it to his lips. He sucks it off with a playful moan, trademark spark in his eyes. “You’re all tuckered out, huh?”

You mumble something that sounds like a yes, struggling to keep your eyes open, and he laughs softly, stroking your chin once more. “Sammy, what about you, big guy?”

“I’m good. I’m good. Where’s she at?” He’s breathing heavily, gasping in between sentences. A heavy hand swats your head, fingers grabbing at nothing before finding a bit of tangled hair to grasp at. He tugs at it, pulling gently at you like some sort of overgrown child. “Give her here.”

“You sure?”

“Please.” Lifting you with delicate hands, Joe helps you crawl up Sam’s lap until you’re resting on his abdomen, fingers playing across his ribs as you settle into him. He’s warm, damp with a faint sheen of sweat. Breathing deep, you press your nose against him. It’s musky, an indistinct powdery smell drowned out by something vaguely acidic. You’ll never be over it, the scent of them lingering on your skin, on the sheets, on the clothes they let you borrow.

A memory of the night before flashes through your mind—Joey’s slipping his jersey over your head in the locker room, grinning at you. You can still smell the nylon, the scent of sweat and pinewood that stayed on your mind all night long, standing in his place when he wasn’t at your side. You can smell it now, just barely there, if you focus hard enough.

You look up at the blond in question, eyes softening when you find his face. There's stubble on his chin and bags under his eyes, yet somehow he’s just as handsome as ever. Smiling, you reach for him, searching for a bit of skin to touch, for something to hold on to.

“I’m right here.” He says, taking your hand as he makes space for himself beside the two of you, head falling onto Sam’s shoulder. “I’m right here, pretty girl.”

A/N: I think its safe to say my niche is funny dialogue, but hey if you don’t get out of your depth you’ll never learn. That being said, it’s back to brocedes for now.

#i have digital blindness from staring at my laptop so long but whatever #its fine #I'm fine #its race week and i have a thousand things to do but its fine!!#chattahoochiecoochie writes #boyfriends!#joe burrow #sam hubbard #joe burrow x reader #sam hubbard x reader #joe burrow smut #sam hubbard smut #bengals smut #nfl smut #joe burrow fic #sam hubbard fic

443 notes · View notes

venuscrashed · 9 months

Text

Together - Spider-Noir x Vigilante!Male Reader

For all the Spider Noir lovers and my non minor readers

Spider-Noir x Morally Grey reader

Spider noir was the “hero” compared to you. He fought for his beliefs and had the better morals. He fought for the people.

You fought for yourself. The selfish, unaware vigilante. The one the police would rather capture so you can get off the streets. Although you just did Justice for the city and left without acknowledging it, causing the news to claim it as your game. You would kill if it came down to it, you were the “villain” compared to him.

Society put you two in your respective boxes. Unknowingly they made it interesting for the both of you. It started off as a favor for the police out of boredom but be soon fell for you. The game of cat and mouse soon turned to a sick twisted game. You would take his enemies from him, and leave right when he got there causing him to get the credit.

He did his research, attempting to find you. He would patrol a bit longer to see if he could find you. He would hang around your spots to catch a glimpse of you in action. He would monologue and stand in the rain thinking about you. He didn’t know if it was the thought of you or you yourself that drove him to insanity or love.

All his questions would be answered if he got to you. Maybe that’s why you were trapped on the building with him. He wasn’t going to let you become the villain anymore. He was going to bring Justice to you and your name. He could be the villain.

You stood on the roof staring down at the city bellow you. War raged on and people struggled along the streets, begging for a life. You would let people do what they needed to do but the minute something was illegal you would step in.

Noir was patrolling, looking for some Nazis to punch. He saw you and knew that he needed to seize the moment. He swung towards the roof and landed lightly. Walking towards you his spider senses went off, you anticipated his arrival. A piece of wire went across the roof with some contraption coded to go off.

“If you wanted a normal conversation you could have gone up to me,” you turned around and walked towards him.

“I don’t know who you are,” he stood up straighter. Ignoring his spider senses that something wasn’t right. The city was filled with crime the police can handle it without him for five minutes, hopefully.

“No,” you smirked through your man. “But I know who you are.”

His breathe hitched with his whole body tensing. He stepped back a bit before regaining his composure. He noticed your confused body behavior before placing a hand out to you.

“I thing to dancers should know their partners names. Why don’t you tell me yours.”

You laughed before grabbing his hand and shaking it. “Nope.”

He jumped over the wire and wrapped and arm around your shoulders. He walked you both to the ledge and grabbed a cigarette.

You watch as his mask was lifted and the cigarette sat in his mouth. He lit it before puffing smoke out. He looked down at the people and crime ridden city. For a couple of moments you two stood there, watching as life went on.

Once he finished his cigarette he dropped it and put it. “The paper puts you on the same levels of the Nazis. Why don’t you take credit for you achievements. I never seen a boxer win a match and not yell at the top of his lungs.”

“Maybe some people don’t want to be know by everyone.”

“Like a flapper girl and her stage name.”

“What,” you snorted.

You two looked at each other before he grabbed you again. His arm went around your waist as he stared into your eyes. “Hold on. This may be a gas. So new yelling like this is your fathers car going over 80.”

Before you could ask he aimed his arm towards a building and jumped off. “Wait Noir! I’m not ready,” you screamed as he swung from building to building.

The wind pushed against you as your guys speed went up. He swung faster all while acting cool while his webs slowly ran out. He had no idea where he was taking you, all he knew was that he enjoyed the thrill.

You two sat above the city on the tallest sky scraper you can find. Your head rested on his shoulder as you two talked about the superhero world. Noir went on about the life he would want after the war, and the time he had before it.

You would hum in response before grabbing his wrist. He watched as you sat up and held his hand close towards yours.

“Let’s make a promise.”

Noir looked at you, his gaze falling towards your exposed lips then going to your eyes like it didn’t just happen. “What?”

You sucked in some air before lowly stating your thoughts. “When all of this is over we rule the world.”

He smiled softly and left your declaration in the air. His pinky went towards yours and softly wrapped around it. He softly said one word, “Together?”

Your pinky wrapped around his, “Together.”

#x male reader #x male y/n #spider noir x male reader #spider verse x male reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #spider verse x reader #spider noir x reader #x ftm reader #vigilante reader #vigilante male reader #venuscrashed

131 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 6 months

Text

Stage reveal

[Teapot]

Paimon:Three hundred wishes! An indomitable will! One golden hair boy’s determination and not to mention 75 pity! It all happens here!!!

Aether:Nice intro.

Paimon:Felt appropriate. Though it might be anticlimactic if Furina shows up in one go.

Aether:That’s the point! *throws ten wishes*

Golden Meteor!

Keqing:You really think it’s going to be her?

???:HAHAHAHAHA~

Nilou:Judging by that sound…yes.

Aether carefully runs with his arms out until the gold light finally fades and Furina lands squarely in his arms.

Furina:Splendid! Simply splendid! Bravo in participating for my wonderful entrance!

Aether:*mutters* You had no land strategy, did you?

The whimsical girl completely ignores the absolutely true accusations, favoring to stand on her own two feet and greet the gaggle of people who attended this glorious occasion.

Furina:Greetings! I’m-

Everyone:We know.

Ayato:He’s mentioned you.

Nahida:More than that. He’s asked us all to help build you for awhile now.

Aether:She didn’t need to know that.

Lynette:My brother is gathering your flowers as we speak, upon Aether’s request.

Aether:I thought I invited friends, not enemies here.

Furina:Well, well, *turns around* well! It would appear despite your blatant shenanigans towards me, you actually wanted me around? Isn’t that adorable?

Paimon:Big talk coming from someone dedicated to letting people wait. You fell faster than anyone Paimon has seen. Didn’t even entertain the idea of making him “work for it”

Furina:I- I just happened to weigh the options is all! It was impossible for me not to arrive, so why not start off with a bang and allow more time for the real drama to begin!

She dramatically points to the weapon banner vendor. Suddenly, nobody but Nilou and Furina were having a good time. The only thing guaranteed was pain but yet they held join in the idea of things working out. Aether decided not to waste time and started lighting the sky with colors from his wishes.

Yaoyao:…Huh? *holds constellation* That was unexpected.

Keqing:That tends to happen from time to time. Congratulations. That’s your second one.

Kaveh:*holds constellation* What the?

Nilou:(Wow. I really do win today.)

Mika:*holds constellation* Oh wow. I got one too!

Eula:Now get five more.

Aether:(Why is my luck for characters better on here than the standard?)

Golden Meteor!

Kokomi:Heads up. It could be anything.

Furina:Ha! Anything!? The answer is as clear as water. *holds hand out*

The light falls straight down into her hand brilliantly. As it fades, Furina’s own gaze lights up as she brandishes her blade.

Furina:See!? Clear as water! (Oh my gods, that could’ve been sooo embarrassing!)

Everyone:(She’s trembling…)

Aether wastes no time in dumping more wishes until another gold light. Unfortunately …

Jade fall splendor

Baizhu, in the distance:Pull for me now!

Aether:Let’s all pretend that was the wind. *spends more primos*

Jade fall splendor

Bahizhu:Puuullllll

Aether:Not gonna lie, this hurts.

Nilou:I don’t even feel good about this outcome.

Ayato:So you’re giving me the sword?

Nilou:Mmm, no. I’ll just cherish it more.

After several painful wishful, the dancer gained her new blade.

Paimon:Okay then. Cheer up Aether! Now let’s use the remainder to get Charlotte! You still around 130.

Aether:*toses 20* I know it just sucks a little to-

Golden Meteor!

Everyone:…..*looks at Furina*

Furina:…..*reveals constellation* Praise my generosity! Let the good times return!

80 wishes later….

Aether:I just want Charlotte around!!! Is she at work or something!?

Tighnari:Look at the bright side. *holds constellation*

Aether:…Look, I love ya man, but you should probably be helping Collei. She’s drowning in coins.

Collei: *buried* I kinda like pressure if I’m honest.

Furina:Let me try. Clearly your luck ran out.

Aether:And your any better?

Furina:I don’t need luck. What I need… *toses wishes* Is an interview!

Charlotte: *falling from the sky* An interview!? Say no more! I even brought a gift for the occasion! *shows constellation*

Furina:Hahahaha!

Aether:*covers face* Unbelievable.

Paimon:Look at it this way. We can invite Navia to join us soon enough!

Keqing:Who’s that?

Paimon:This cool and sweet lady who holds…a Geo vision….

Everyone:Those still exist!? That’s so brave of her!

Navia, in the distance: Hey! Have optimism! It’s fine!

As fanfare died down and everyone went back to doing their personal tasks, Aether took Furina aside just around a hill.

Aether:Alright. Curtain is closed. I won’t mind if there’s something you wanted to get off your chest before I tell you the r-

Furina:*hugs him* …..Happy to be here.

Aether:…*hugs her back* Me too.

#genshin impact #gi aether #gi paimon #gi furina #keqing #gi charlotte #gi nilou #kamisato ayato #gi navia #gi baizhu #gi nahida #gi tighnari #gi yaoyao #mika schmidt #eula lawrence #gi lynette

89 notes · View notes

gareleia · 1 month

Text

THE KNITTING SAGA BUT MAKE IT SAD

part 1 part 2

lets talk about relationships, shall we. i'm gonna focus on Athena & Telemachus this time, but Hermes will have his turn later

let's be real, Athena is a hardass. sure, she cares, but she's so emotionally constipated that it really doesn't show that much. especially before she goes through that character development arc after her break with Odysseus in My Goodbye

(and what a crisis that is)

(because her masterpiece??? failed her??? but she trusted him??? she made him as in her image as possible??? he was supposed to be perfect???)

(and if he's not perfect, then she failed,,, and she can't fail, she doesn't fail,,, she's a goddess,,, war strategy is her domain, surely there is no way her plan could be flawed,,,)

(what even is the point of her if she's not perfect)

so yeah, she's a hardass. even on baby Telemachus who'd never held a sword before - especially on baby Telemachus, because he's the son of her favored Champion. he may be waaay younger than any of her previous pupils, but she's expecting him to shine just as bright.

Athena, on the first day: let's get down to business! make your father proud! you won't have a weakness! by the time we're done! you're the saddest pupil that I've had! and you haven't got a clue! but I will make a man outta you! Telemachus, a literal toddler, holding a wooden sword as big as himself: ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

and for years to come she trains him relentlessly. she's honestly trying to be nice about it, too. it's just that Athena doesn't do soft or gentle, her default is a neutral face of displeasure, and her idea of encouragement is saying you're not as bad as you used to be, or something along these lines.

Telemachus: *succeeds at something* Athena: *raises an eyebrow in a slightly different manner than usually* Telemachus: *le gasp* could it b-be? am I doing a good job??? Athena: it's… acceptable for your age.

she never once tells him she is proud of him. because surely he already knows. he doesn't need to hear it. his father didn't, after all (odysseus so fucking did)

and this goes on until Telemachus reaches double digits. then My Goodbye happens, and Athena has Feelings™. she's having an existential crisis, and has to confront the fact that she had done something wrong while training Odysseus, and she can't understand what. which is terrifying, because what if she makes a mistake like that with Telemachus. will he fail her too?

will she have to leave him too, so she doesn't watch him die horribly in a tragedy that could've been prevented if only she had made him see-

so Athena doubles down and starts demanding more and more from Telemachus. the praise goes from sparse to non-existent, and nothing he does seems to be enough anymore. she goes from tough love to borderline verbal abuse, thinking that it's the only way to keep him safe and prepare him for the future.

and Telemachus endures. he has to, because he doesn't want his mother to worry. doesn't want to appear weak. Odysseus had done it, so it's only fair his son should too. and when his dad comes home, he'll be sooo impressed. he can do it!

except…. not really. it's been a losing battle since the beginning, and deep down he knows it. he cant win with Athena, not on his own.

???: if you want to impress her, you'll need the blessing of a certain god! divine intervention! someone who's not afraid to- telemachus: aeolus, what are doing in my closet?!

so anyway, Aeolus and winions start helping him via winds and stuff, and Telemachus actually starts exceeding everyone's expectations. it's not that he'd been bad before, but he's soft, and not quite strong enough physically to make up for his gentle constitution

everyone is cheering him on. he's the talk of the palace! his mom is so proud! the suitors start sizing him up with consideration instead of dismissing him outright! (and tele, baby, that's not a good thing! ಠ_ಠ). Athena seems pleased for the first time in ages!! but he knows that it's all a lie, and it's killing him.

cause he's a good, honest boye, and he wants to succeed on his own merit, not because of cheating and lying to everyone he loves. that's vile and dishonorable.

que some very important island-wide competition that everyone is expecting him to join and win. maybe it's even his duty as a prince. like, a right of passage from complete boyhood to adolescence.

and there's,,, a lot of pressure on Telemachus to suceed. everyone and their mother are telling him that of course he's got this, he's a prodigy! def his father's son! nobody doubts his incoming victory! he's got this! he definitely won't disappoint them!

random noble: we'll be cheering you on, young prince! truly, we are blessed by the gods to have such a talented successor to the throne! we'll watch with keen eyes as you triumph over your foes and bring even more honor to your family! b(￣▽￣*) telemachus, eye twitching: y-yeah… thank you… (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

so, the night before the competition Telemachus can barely sleep, he's so wrecked by guilt and nerves. he keeps thinking - what would his father do in this situation? all the stories he'd ever heard of Odysseus always painted him as some kind of invincible, righteous, all-capable genius. so the idea of his dad ever grappling with guilt and feelings of inadequacy is just laughable. (oh, if only he knew)

so, he goes to his mom for advice. because Penelope is awesome. but he can't bring himself to admit that's he's cheating - what if she's ashamed of him? he brought dishonor to his father's name, and if anyone knows - will he get exiled?

so yeah, he basically has a panic attack and cries for like, half an hour straight.

telemachus, bawling: if I lose tomorrow, will you hate me? will dad hate me? I can't do anything right and I'm a failure and a horrible person and- just- what do I do, mother? penelope, holding him: oh, love. sometimes you're so similar to your father I wonder if the gods haven't returned him to me in spirit through you.

because no matter what everyone else says, Penelope knows the truth - Odysseus always followed his heart. oh, how he may have tried to forget he had one, to only ever use his head. but a heart he did have - does have, they have to believe that - and it's a bright and a gentle one. he may have been hardened by years of pain and struggle in a way that Telemachus hadn't yet (and Penelope's heart breaks from knowledge that her son will be, one day). but deep down, at ther cores, Odysseus and Telemachus are strikingly similar. and she loves them all the more for it.

and so, with his mother's blessing, the young prince does just as she told him to: follows his heart. he thanks Aeolus for their help, and asks them to stop giving it from now on. either he'll suceed on his own merit, or he'll wear his failure as a badge of honor and an incentive to do better.

and he loses. badly.

and the world,,, doesn't end? sure, the suitors sneer and jeer, but there's a surprising lack of disowning and exile going around. and the nobles tone it down significantly with undeserved adoration, which is definitely a plus, as far as he's concerned.

the only thing is. Athena.

oh boy.

because she's not stupid. Telemachus may have gotten away with cheating so far, but now he'll have to answer to her why he had flunked so badly, and she won't buy his go-to excuse of 'I got nervous!'

athena, expression unreadable: so. care to explain yourself, my stupid pupil? telemachus: w-well, you see… ha-ha… it's, uh… a funny story… athena: you threw away your best advantage! you've had a god perfectly willing to assist you and yet you still somehow managed to lose! telemachus: wait, what-

so yeah, Athena knew all along.

athena, mildly insulted: how stupid do you think I am, boy? telemachus: but! but! but!.. you never said anything! didn't even scold me for cheating! athena, even more insulted: child, I am the goddess of war strategy, where did you get the idea that I ever play fair abd straightforward? leave that to ares, the simple-minded fool!

to clarify, she's not upset at him for cheating. she's upset that he stopped doing so. so she throws some choice words at him, implying he lacks both talent and intelligence

and Telemachus defends himself by saying that he'd rather fail on his own merit, than abandon his principles and win by lying and dishonoring his family. in response, she calls him naive.

he tries to implore to her connection to his father by saying that he was just trying to do what's right. he was following his heart, just as Odysseus had always strived to. and he's training to fight for his loved ones, not for glory of being known.

it's a one hit K.O., because it reminds Athena of her recent break-up with Odysseus. of everything they spat at each other during My Goodbye. of anger, if hurt, of disappointment, of betrayal, of I loved you and you failed me, of I loved you and I failed you, of good riddance! and y̶͈̔o̴̘̖͆u̶̻̱͆͒'̸̫̩̌̉r̷̼͝e̴̩̒ ̴͎̻̈́̎ȧ̸̦l̵̗͙͌̐o̸͚͕̚n̷̟̯͠e̵̳̩͠

and is their whole line just cursed? is it their way of punishing her for something? why do they both hurt her so? is it her fault?

telemachus: athena? are… are you okay? (‘-’*) athena, coming off MG flashbacks: well, obviously, boy, why would you even ask that (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Telemachus just hugs her, because she obviously needs it. and she melts into it like never before.

because she wasn't made for empathy or kindness. she's born to be ruthless and cold. she's not supposed to love and be loved care about anything but winning. it doesn't come natural to Athena, until recently she had truly thought herself unable to, and yet-

yet here, right in front of her, is a boy who loves for the both of them. loves the whole world - sincerely, selflessly. a truly kind and caring soul (the noble even joke that is true father is Polites).

she can't love.

but maybe… maybe he will teach her.

maybe he already did.

or maybe she always could.

she forgets sometimes, that her fingers know not only the roughness of swords and spears, but also the gentle softness of weaved silk. creation goes hand in hand with destruction, and she can bind countless threads together without breaking them.

and what are humans, if not strings, waiting to be cut by the fates?

also, if Telemachus can teach the goddess of cold cynicism and detached cruelty kindness of all things, then she can teach him swordplay.

yes, it's a threat.

22 notes · View notes

pettyprocrastination · 1 year

Note

roller derby!abby seeing reader for the first time? ❤️‍🩹🫂😔❤️‍🩹

I can't decide if I want it to be a reader who is already doing derby or maybe a newbie reader so I'll do both lol

Newbie Skater

The first time Abby sees you is at a scrimmage. You aren't playing- your'e just a spectator. Another face in the crowd but one she hasn't seen before. You aren't wearing their team shirt or colors- but she sees the way your eyes light up as the bout begins and by half time your shouting encouragements in their favor. There's a moment of brevity, when the jam is over and she's leaving the track when she looks up and meets your eyes before you look away with a bashful smile in favor of whispering something in your friend's ear- she doesn't let herself get distracted but maybe she shows off a little bit. A show of strength and brutality for the pretty little thing in the stands watching her with bated breath- it may cost her a penalty or two but it's worth it when she sees you at concessions after the bout is over and you compliment her skill.

When she sees you at the first Incoming Skater Lesson run by the local league the week after her scrimmage, there's a pride thrumming in her chest because now she gets the one to comment on your form and teach you how to do crossovers, she just has to make sure not to say anything stupid when you reach out and grab her for stability each time you feel wobbly on your skates.

Veteran Skater

The first time she sees you is at a scrimmage your both competing in. There's always a kindness between the two teams, many are old friends who have played together years before or those who connect in mutual Facebook groups for their shared love of the same sport, something that overrides the aggressive thrumming in each player's veins they moment they step off the track and congratulate the same people that just minutes before they were trying to destroy.

When she first sees you on the track behind her, the opposing jammer eyeing the outside lane she simply sinks down into her heels and tells her team to hold you.

If only it was that easy.

You're fast. The type of fast that has her shouting to her teammates that you're going to take the inside but then you twist and dance along the out, taking long gazelle like steps on your toe-stops past her in a gust of wind that makes her blood boil each time you do. Abby hits you hard, sending your body crashing to the outside of the track before you pop back up and approach again with the same speed, the same intensity and the same passion that has her digging against the slick floors of the court they play on to keep you in place but you just keep fucking going. By the final whistle she's earned enough penalties trying to keep you from scoring points than her bench coach would like- but they win nontheless. There's that little part of her- the smug jackass that lives in her heart from years of not "being enough" that wants her to rub it in your face but before she gets the chance you take out your mouth-guard and offer her a dazzling smile with a breathless "good job" before you head to the locker room.

It's two hours later that she sees you again. After sharing sweaty but albiet love-filled hugs with friends who came to watch her play that somebody from your team taps her on the shoulder and tells her of an after party at a local bar. Part of her wants to decline. She drove by herself and is far too tired to endure any conversation deeper than "good job" and wants nothing more than to take a steaming hot shower and get some rest but finds herself going nonetheless- she tells herself it has nothing to do with their annoying little jammer who had the audacity to smile at her in the parking lot but Manny thought otherwise.

When Abby walks in she's greeted with the husky lure of Fleetwood Mac and the smell of greasy burgers. She barely gets to the bar before she sees you- now dressed tight top and a skirt that reaches down to your ankles, flaring out each time you turn like a character in a fairytale gesturing wildly while talking to your teammates. You look up, meeting her eyes and a wide grin grows over your face.

"You!"

Crossing the room in quick strides you raise your hand for a high-five, one she cautiously returns and tries not to think about just how tiny your hands are in comparison to hers.

"You hit like a motherfucker."

It's a compliment. Praise that makes her breath stutter and her voice shake when she says thank you. But then you make it worse because you're pretty. Even with your hair still a mess from wearing a helmet and your voice cracked from shouting all day you have the audacity to look cute when you should be frustrating her just as you did before. But you smile and talk about gameplay while praising her strength as a blocker on the track.

She knows she's in trouble because her heart is beating like she just ran a 4k and then you have the gall to lift up that skirt high on your thigh to show-off an already blackening bruise that you claim she gave to you and Abby realizes this Jammer isn't going to be leaving her mind anytime soon.

#also i should say: when somebody hits you hard enough to leave a bruise we call it a 'derby kiss' which is just. perfpect potential right #anyways im not gonna shut up about this anytime soon #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #derby!abby #sorry these suck I had to word vomit them before my night class starts

126 notes · View notes

dawneternal · 2 months

Text

Take the World in Your Hands | Eris x Elain | Eight

Summary: Eris's brothers catch wind of his proposal to Nesta. They plan to find and deliver her to their father as a gift, surely winning his favor. Their plan takes a turn when they kidnap the wrong Archeron sister and Eris finds her in the Autumn Court dungeon.

Notes: we're nearing the end, friends 💛 there's a couple more parts and then an epilogue. I've thought about writing an alternate ending bonus chapter, let me know what you think. Sorry this one isn't as polished.

Warnings: 18+, smut (it's kinda filthy srry)(did someone say Mr Eris Bodice-Ripper)

Word Count: 2.8k

Ao3 Link / Masterlist

Elain laughed, head fuzzy from whiskey, dizzy from spinning around and around. Eris laughed with her, holding her tight against him as they danced.

The night had turned around, transforming into something sparkling with alcohol haze and dazzling with the rush of being seen. Perhaps it was terrible for her to feel so high on the wicked thing she'd done. But at the moment, she couldn't find it in herself to be sorry. She was not even sure if it was the deed that had thrilled her, or just the fact that she'd managed to do it.

Eris had taken full advantage of the cut of her dress, constantly finding her bare skin as they sat at the long table. His touch was reckless, pulling a deep blush from her every time he ventured a little too far. Rhysand glowered as if he knew exactly what was happening under the table. Because he did know, and it was exactly what he would do in Eris's position.

This was a gift that Eris had not anticipated. Watching Rhysand attempt to swallow a bitter spoonful of his own medicine. It was a gift he savored.

Same as he savored the glittering gem of a girl in his arms, her laughter like a song as she danced and spun. This was turning out to be, perhaps, the greatest scheme he had ever thought of. He had twirled her away from the others a few times, into some little alcove to kiss her and drink in her giggling and teasing.

It was in one of those alcoves that he discovered she had foregone underwear. Of course, she blamed it on the cut of the dress. If she had worn any, the high slits would have shown it. Then she had smirked at him and practically skipped away, knowing he would be at her heels chasing her.

Eris intended to whirl her back into that unsupervised corner as soon as the current song had ended. His desperation was growing and his standards were dropping at the same rate. He felt that his hands had touched every inch of her skin but the place he wanted most.

But before they could begin something truly scandalous, Eris was swept away by some political nobody to a dull conversation with other representatives.

Had his senses been a bit sharper, he could have avoided it. But he had downed one too many fancy drinks, garnished with sugar stars and mint leaves. The taste of revenge and Elain and sweet mint all together was intoxicating on its own without the alcohol. Thus, he found himself pulled away and Elain found herself standing alone.

"Elain," Rhys's voice drifted to her and she turned to find him staring down at her.

Hands in his pockets, face cold and emotionless. It stung, just a little, to be on the receiving end of that mask. She had seen it used on many others. But never her.

"Rhysand," She said, too aware of her slightly slurred speech and pink cheeks. Perhaps she should not have had so much to drink before he had singled her out. She knew he was going to. At least Feyre had not joined him.

"You look lovely," He said, the sincerity giving Elain a pang of guilt.

"Thank you," She blushed and cleared her throat. Trying to remember what she had wanted to say.

"Why Eris?" He said, voice quiet. "I understand you were upset with me. And I wish things had happened in a different way. But I was only trying to do what was best for you and Azriel-"

At the sound of Azriel's name, Elain's anger returned. Her mind cleared.

"I should have some say in what's best for me, shouldn't I?" Elain snapped, finally looking into his midnight eyes. They did not muddle her thoughts as they had when she first met him as a human.

"Of course," Rhysand spoke through pursed lips, "But I'll admit I don't understand your choices. What of Lucien? What of Mor?"

"Lucien will know nothing, unless you tell him," Elain gritted out, "And you are making a good deal of assumptions, Rhysand. You know nothing of what's happened the past few days."

"Mor may not forgive you," Rhys said, ignoring the rest of her statement.

His words did not seem to be as cleverly thought out as usual. Perhaps she had flustered him more than she anticipated. He appeared to be grasping at whatever he could to affect her in some way. Elain had triggered an anger that was beyond reason.

"There are many things you don't know," Elain drew herself to her full height. Barely rising to Rhys's shoulder. If he had asked honestly, kindly, she may have told him the truth. But not now.

"Enlighten me," Rhysand drawled, rather predictably.

"You know the rumor, Rhysand. But I know the truth. Tell her where I've been and note her reaction. Is her concern for me or for her own feelings? Perhaps you should finally ask her to tell you the story herself."

Elain did not hate Mor. She was not mad at Mor. She softened her tone before adding, "I would hope she understands what it is to make difficult choices to get your loved ones to hear you. She should know how it feels to be drowning in the need to be seen as you truly are."

Rhysand must know there was some truth in her words. His fury had cooled to a mere simmer. But he hadn't calmed enough to sort through what she had said, just yet. Instead, his eyes flicked down to the dagger strapped to her thigh, and Elain wondered if he recognized it as Eris's.

"Do you even know how to use that?" He said, tone one of disdain.

In one swift motion, just as Eris had taught her, she unsheathed the dagger, gripped it in her hand, and had it hovering an inch from the High Lord's neck. He did not flinch, did not move in the slightest as he stared at her, darkness and anger swirling in those violet eyes. Behind it, something else glimmered. Something that looked like pride.

"Very well, Elain," He placed a gentle hand on her wrist and lowered the blade away from his neck. "Point taken."

He turned on his heel and disappeared, hands clasped behind his back. Elain stared after him, trying to unravel her emotions. Then Eris was at her side, a firm hand wrapped around her waist.

"Are you alright?"

"I think," Elain sighed, letting her body slump against him, wondering how much he had heard, "That if this does not make them listen, then perhaps they just don't want to hear me."

"Come," Eris pressed a kiss to the top of her head, tightening his grip around her, "You're in need of desserts."

Desserts turned out to be kisses in that hidden corner. He was not wrong in assuming that it would cheer her up. Though the heat between them was rising to a dangerous height. Whatever had been settled between Elain and Rhysand would be undone if they were caught this way. Pressed against each other, Elain's leg hooked over Eris's hip as he held tight to the bend of her knee. Lost in a deep and feverish kiss.

Eris pulled away and grasped her chin, thumb pressed against her lips. Elain captured it and pulled it into her mouth, caressing the pad of his thumb with her tongue.

Eris made a low sound deep in his throat. Then he dipped his head to her chest and began to trace the line of lace over the swell of her breasts. The hand around her leg held firm and the other ventured under the velvet skirt yet again.

"Eris," She breathed, grasping fistfuls of copper hair and pulling his head away.

"Yes, darling?"

"I'm done here," She whispered, chest heaving. Eris eyebrows drew upwards. "Take me somewhere else and finish what you started."

Eris eyes darkened, his grip on her tightened, and then they were winnowing.

Eris winnowed them to a dim, stone corridor, arched doorways at intervals as far as the hallway stretched. This must be some hall of guest rooms in the Hewn City, as the marble floor matched the one in the ballroom.

He grabbed her hand and led her to one of the aged wooden doors, pulling a key from his pocket and unlocking it.

The room was large and cozy, lit by candles and sconces housing fae lights. A large bed sat centered on one wall, draped in soft sheets and fluffy blankets with a velvet canopy hovering overhead. A fire blazed in the stone hearth and a doorway on the back wall led to a washroom. It was all warm colors, maroon fabrics, cobalt rugs, and dark wooden furniture.

"I didn't think about where we'd stay tonight," Elain said, toeing off her shoes and feeling the plush carpet under her feet.

"I did," Eris flashed a wry smile. "And I thought of something else, too."

He padded to one of the nightstands on either side of the bed, one with a lidded silver tray resting on it. Eris lifted the lid with a flourish.

"Desserts!" Elain cheered. She crossed to him and threw her arms around his neck. "You're too good to me."

"Oh, I'm not done yet," Eris chuckled, replacing the lid and wrapping his arms around her.

He kissed her fiercely, charged with the wicked energy of the evening. Elain kissed him back, hands in his hair, standing on her toes to press her body into his. Eris's lips were everywhere. On her neck, her jaw, the hollow of her throat, the expanse of her pale chest. Elain's head still buzzed with the remains of the alcohol and it only added to the heat in her stomach. She pulled and met his gaze, wild-eyed and disheveled from the revelry.

"There's something I want to do," She whispered, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

His eyebrows drew up as he helped, unfastening each button with more precision than Elain could muster. She pulled at his belt instead, much easier to undo. When he had been released from his clothes, she pressed her hands to his bare chest and kissed him before he could begin on her dress. She smiled against his lips as her thumbs brushed his nipples and pulled a delicious shiver from him.

Then she pushed him, hard, and watched him stumble back against the bed. Eris watched her, enamored, pupils blown with desire. Elain locked eyes with him and sank to her knees between his legs. Her hands went to his thighs and wandered, noting which tender places made the muscles in his jaw twitch.

Then her lips and teeth replaced her fingers and she left a trail of punishing bruises on the inside of his thighs, relishing the groans and whimpers that left him. She soothed each spot with her tongue and kissed it softly. Finally, she drew his length into her mouth, running her tongue over the arousal dripping down the tip.

Eris moaned her name and threaded his fingers through her curls. Elain arched her back at the sound of it, hips grinding against nothing as she bobbed her head and wrapped her hand around the length that wouldn't fit. She pulled away, swirling her tongue over the underside of his cock, tightening her grip. It was too slow, too teasing for the desperation that had gathered within him.

He let his head fall back, his eyes close, and he grasped handfuls of her hair to pull her in closer. He urged her into a faster rhythm, fingernails scraping against her scalp and spreading goosebumps across her skin. His groans became closer together, a long string of cursing and pleading. Elain sucked her cheeks in tight around him as her eyes watered and he fell over the edge. Heat bloomed in her throat, each erratic thrust of his hips releasing more against her tongue. Elain swallowed, gazing up at him while he watched.

"Fuck," Eris breathed, loosening his grip. He stared at her, the tears gathered in her eyes, her lips red and swollen, the self-satisfied smirk she wore. Her dress was rumpled and her hair was a beautiful mess. It was enough to heat his blood all over again and he grabbed her chin to pull her up toward him.

He kissed her, tongue in her mouth tasting the remnants his release. Then he returned the favor of her marking bruises, nipping with enough force to pull little yelps from her throat. But she did not stop him, only held on tight.

"Eris," She breathed, as his teeth nipped at her collarbone.

"Tell me what you want, dove," Eris purred, returning his tongue to her skin.

"Fuck me," She whispered, pressing herself tighter against him. The first time she had ever spoken the word in his presence.

Eris paused, heart jumping into his throat. Then he grasped the front of her dress in both hands and ripped. Beads scattered, bouncing to the floor with a shower of clinking sounds.

"Eris!" Elain gasped, holding onto the fabric at her waist to keep the dress from falling off completely.

"I paid for it," Was all he said before his mouth was on her exposed breasts.

Elain had determined to remain indignant, but the scrape of his teeth against her sensitive nipples was enough to undo her resolve. She moaned and pushed her chest further into his mouth. Eris gently wrapped his fingers around her wrists and pulled her hands away from her waist, letting the dress flutter to the floor and reveal her body.

Then Eris removed his mouth from her and stood back, admiring. The fae lights carved out her form in golden slivers of light, illuminating her soft curves. He was memorizing, saving the image in his mind.

"Make sure you admire both sides equally," Elain admonished and flipped over, bending over the tall bed and presenting her backside to him. She was more than ready. She was burning from a night full of secret touches, Eris's terribly behaved hands always reaching for the exposed skin of her back, her thighs, her cleavage. He had never ventured between her thighs and discovered her soaked skin, ready and warm and aching. So she would show him.

Eris made a desperate sound and she felt his warm hands at her waist, running over the curve of her back, the swell of her ass, every inch of skin she presented. He spread her thighs apart and admired her glistening folds, waiting for him. There was a pause as he grabbed his length in his fist and aligned, and then he thrust into her in one motion, hips pressing firmly against her bottom.

Elain gasped and grabbed a handful of comforter, pushing her hips back against him. Eris moaned, unmoving.

"Patience, dove," Eris murmured, spreading her even further apart to push in deeper.

He could feel her pulse around his cock, warm and desperate. He relented to her body's pleas, pulling out almost all the way and then slamming back in. He repeated it a few times, relishing her cries and the way her back arched.

"Please," She begged into the blanket, "Fuck me."

Eris obeyed, beginning a ruthless pace, skin slapping against hers. He hoped that if the High Lord had stayed in the Hewn City tonight, his room was nowhere close enough to hear Elain's sounds. Or at least, maybe no one would not recognize the sound of innocent Elain begging harder faster more.

"Do not stop," He gritted out, voice low, "I want to hear you."

Eris reached underneath her and circled her bundle of nerves, rewarding him with a chant of his name. She pinched a nipple with one hand, the other attempting to brace against the mattress as her body was shoved backward and forward by his movements.

"Come with me?" Eris groaned, feeling too intensely every time she pushed her hips back against his.

"Yes," Elain sobbed, feet finding purchase against his on the floor.

"Good girl," Eris breathed as his release crashed into him, whole being trembling with the force of that pleasure. Elain's hums and cries were muffled by the comforter, her legs trembling against his. He could remain in that world of bliss forever, so aware of every place their skin touched. He chased the feeling as long as he could. It never lasted long enough.

Eris pulled out, seed leaking down Elain's legs. She did not notice him leave, gathering her wits as she remained bent over the bed. Arms curled underneath her, golden hair silky against her bare shoulders, she let out a contented sigh. Pleasure still coursed through her, like her body singing thanks for its release after hours of teasing.

Elain jumped at the feeling of a damp towel against her skin, relaxing as Eris cleaned her thoroughly. When he was done she flipped over and flashed him a breathless grin.

"Alright?" Eris asked, climbing into the bed beside her.

"Almost," She said, wriggling under the sheets. She pulled the tray of desserts onto her lap and handed him a fork. "Now I am."

19 notes · View notes

toweroftickles · 4 months

Text

Mini-Fic: Tulin Tickles

I completely 100% blame @otomiyaa for this. 😂 Here I was working on normal things, and she went and reblogged an old Tulin post that got my brain working. So this is not great and was spit out very quickly. Lol

The warm Hebra summer wind blew through Tulin’s crest as he nocked an arrow into his Swallow Bow. This was his last shot…he had to make it count. His tongue poked out of his black beak, and he squeezed one eye tight…the wooden bullseye, scarred by dozens of arrowheads, bobbed up and down on a Korok balloon, 200 yards ahead.

“Come on, Tulin, you’ve got it!” Zelda cheered him. Link tossed her a glance that playfully asked “Whose side are you on?”

“Heck yeah! I’m the best archer in Rito history!” declared the young avian, cocky as always. One last cheeky wink at the competition, and then he took off.

Wings flapped. Claws pulled at taught string. The arrow fired off like a rocket through a spiraling wind, and time seemed to stand still. The target was dancing quickly in the air. With a loud and vibrating THUNK, the arrow struck home…

…on the target’s outside edge. It pulled to the side just in the nick of time to avoid a bullseye.

“Ohhh, that was so close!” Zelda announced. “Sorry, Tulin, that’s 30 to 29…Link wins again!” She dove toward Link excitedly and pecked him on the cheek. Tulin’s face fell.

“Awww, maaaannnnn….” he grumbled and kicked the dirt, pouting. All he wanted was to be a great warrior, just like his dad…and Link. But no matter how hard he pushed himself, it never felt like enough. Teba always told him to “take it easy” or “you’re still a child” or “don’t try too hard” and other boring parent stuff…still, nothing excited him more than tearing holes in the sky with his bow. Why, just imagining all the upcoming practice he’d have to do…it quickly turned his frown into a determined grin.

“Well…I’ll get you next time, Link; you just wait!”

Link smiled and nodded at him, and even flashed a thumbs-up for good measure. Tulin returned the favor…he couldn’t possibly stay grumpy with his friends. But as he turned to retrieve his arrows, he didn’t look where he was going, and clumsily bumped right into the princess, who appeared in front of him as if from nowhere. She didn’t seem to mind, though…she was smiling down at him, her head framed by hanging streaks of golden hair, and she was giggling like a schoolgirl who knew a dirty secret. Tulin looked up into her eyes.

What’s she up to?

"Heehee! Remember the rules, Tulin…”

Oh no.

“…the loser has to pay a penalty.”

When Rito became nervous, their whole bodies prickled like fuzzy pinecones as their feathers stood on end. And at that precise moment, Tulin looked like a very fuzzy pinecone indeed. His eyes were the size of dinner plates.

"W-wait...hold on! We don't have to..." The young Rito stumbled backward away from the princess, stammering, seemingly having forgotten that he could fly. She was slowly walking toward him, hands tucked behind her back, her sunny smile hiding evil intent.

"I'll train EXTRA hard for next time, and...a-and...yike!"

Before he could flutter his wings away, Zelda grabbed Tulin by the shoulders and pushed him down into the high grass. He tried to squirm out of her grip, but his leader plunged her fingertips through his feathery coat and wiggled them up and down, pinching like crab claws under his arms and all over his belly.

Oh no.

"Uhuh-HAA!! *hic* Ah HA-HA Ha-Ha Ha-Ha!! *gasp* Aw...vnnn...ffffHA-Ha Ha!! Huh-Heh HA!!" Tulin's chipper voice kept cracking, his hysterical boyish laughter peppered with shrieks and hiccups as he struggled wildly. He was flapping around like a...well...a Cucco with its head cut off.

"Heh! Your giggle is contagious, Hn-Hn Hn!" Zelda cooed sweetly, lost in her own joyful snickers. She was loving every second of this. “Heehee! Awww, Link; he's sooo ticklish...”

"Luh…Link, HA-HA HA! M-make her stahahop!!” Tulin’s cheeks were hot with embarrassment, and they hurt from smiling. He hated this…why wouldn’t Zelda stop treating him like a baby? Surely his closest friend, his big brother, the Hero of Hyrule, would rescue him. Surely…right?

No such luck. Link was laughing too. Instead of helping, he knelt down and rummaged through his travel pack, ever the sovereign’s obedient knight…the gears in his head were visibly turning. Out of his supplies he pulled a strange, squirmy object and tossed it near the tussling knot formed by his two friends.

It was a green Lizalfos tail.

The severed appendage, unaware its owner had died, suddenly snapped like a whip and coiled itself around Tulin’s right ankle. It felt cold and craggy and squeezed too tight. Was it trying to snare prey for a non-existent mouth? Tulin couldn’t say…

…he was too busy cracking up. The tip of the tail was flicking back and forth and tickling his foot. He was laughing so hard he’d almost gone silent. Tears stung his eyelashes.

"Hhhhuh, Ha-Ha Ha-Ha Ha! *gasp* Heheh...NGHa-Ha Ha-Ha HAA Haha-Ha!! H…Hehehelp! Uncle!!!"

But then, out of nowhere and quite instinctively, Tulin was startled to remember something: his Vow.

A huge, cold gust of wind blasted from his flapping wings. The Lizalfos tail ripped from his leg and careened far into a field beyond, and the princess of Hyrule was thrown into the air with the force of a Hinox arm.

She cried out in surprise. Link immediately hopped up to catch her, and although his arms were at the correct height, he misjudged the distance. Zelda’s butt crashed right into his chest cavity, and the wind was knocked completely out of him. He choked, eyes bulging, unable to breathe, and the two crumpled into a heap on the knoll.

Spurred by a mix of shock, guilt, humiliation, and a sore stomach, Tulin sat up in the grass and stared, jaw hung open.

He wanted to be mad. He wanted to huff and pout and not talk to either of them for a day or two.

But looking at Link and Zelda sprawled on top of each other like that, all Tulin could do was laugh.

**************

27 notes · View notes

cashiew · 8 months

Text

Woke up to the news of the cancellation this morning and have spent the day trying to swallow it. I was so looking forward to seeing our girls again and have my fingers crossed that we can see another miracle.

But for now, I offer the gretson playlist I made last year. It follows the spiritual beats of their story, circling themes of flight, making a mark, and finding your way home.

Seven - Sleeping At Last So I look to the future, and I book another fight / When everything feels heavy, I’ve learned to travel light

More to Give - Isabel Pless I keep burning my own bridge whether I lose or win / I’ll always wish I had more to give

if i were a friend - BLU EYES If I wasn't in my head / I could help me settle down / Make all of this make sense / Cuz it doesn't right now

Why Am I Like This? - Orla Gartland Oh, it's like I'm looking down from the ceiling above / Never in the moment, never giving enough

One - Sleeping At Last The list goes on forever / Of all the ways I could be better, in my mind / As if I could earn God's favor given time / Or at least congratulations

Twenty Something - Bre Kennedy Had my first kiss at the corner bar / Fell in love with a stranger in the dark

Everything Has Changed - Alex G, Jon D 'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello" / And your eyes look like comin' home / All I know is a simple name / And everything has changed

Apple Pie - Lizzy McAlpine I found you under an April sky / And you feel like / City life, apple pie baked just right / Home is wherever you are tonight

Ordinary Love - Nick Wilson Just for once / I want ordinary, ordinary love / No smoking gun

Maybe - Duce Williams Maybe, we should hope against the odds / Maybe, fate will place our cause

if i built my home from paper - Lexie Carroll Cause I may be getting older / But maybe I'm still scared / It's a trouble living in this world / But it's home when you are there

Magnificent - Oh Wonder In the sticky summer heat, I got grass stains on me knees / And I'm infinite / Couple lovers running free, eyes are looking straight at me / And I'm into it

hate to be lame - Lizzy McAlpine, FINNEAS If I love him, if I need him / Maybe that will make him stay / If I lie, will I still feel this way?

counting houses - Luz Let them cast their doubt / We can live without /All their thoughts around

If I Didn’t Love You - Ben Abraham How do you do it? You've got me in it and I can't explain / How you turn me with the fury of a hurricane

Walk Above the City - The Paper Kites, MARO Flowers underneath us now / Towers underneath us now / We walk above the city / You and I

Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) - The 1975 And told her, "Some things have their time / How can I be yours if you're not mine?"

Talking to Myself (Stripped) - Gatlin What if I play pretend / You're holding me again / We're laughing in my head

Another Round - Elina Time always froze when I pulled you close / And we were fine, mhmm / I swear I would give anything for another round

please - Chelsea Cutler, Jeremy Zucker Please don't leave me here / I don't know where my heart is

Leave Your Lover - Sam Smith You'll never know the endless nights, the rhyming of the rain /Or how it feels to fall behind and watch you call his name

Alone with You - Canyon City It's not anything you say, anywhere we go / It's just being alone with you now

I Found You - Kina Grannis, Imaginary Future A sudden gust of wind /From nowhere, we begin / It's like I dreamed you up while I was sleeping

Last Time - Adam Melchor I'm takin' a picture of this in the back of my mind / ‘Cause every time I go I'm scared it's gonna be the last time

Give & Take - John Marc Oh there's a give and take in falling in love / You make it easier than I ever thought

#spotify #playlist #a league of their own #aloto #gretson #carson shaw #greta gill

48 notes · View notes

beevean · 24 days

Note

This image! God this image! Mrs. Kojima really cooked here. I love and adore prelude to revenge so much! This scene and what happens subsequently there after could have no dialogue and it would still be perfectly understood with how well the emotions are conveyed in her illustrations.

Also Isaac looks phenomenal. Have I mentioned that I love prelude to revenge? What are some of your favorites?

BRO

you come to me and you give me the chance to gush about Prelude to Revenge, the best thing that came out of the Castlevania franchise?????

(i'm going to get assassinated for that lol)

i, ugh. i. i love how Kojima here handled the Hector/Isaac fight! It's from Isaac's POV, not Hector's - we're seeing the events from the POV of the antagonist. We already root for Hector and his will to run away from Dracula's insanity by this point. We are made to at least try to sympathize with the other guy, who so far proudly declared to be a weapon for destruction.

Hector uses a underhanded tactic to win: he slashes Isaac's thighs. He also breaks part of his armor, symbolically being the reason of Isaac's sanity slipping. He's about to deliver the coup de grâce...

"I still… can’t follow you? Have I lost…?"

(Hector's eye! Icy cold! Beautiful!)

... but instead, he humiliates his former friend further: he breaks his sword, and he forces him to live, while he himself crawls away to die far away. Hector refuses to share that moment of weakness with Isaac.

"Is this the arrogance... of the winner?!"

(actually, 優れる means "to surpass, to outstrip, to excel". Hector didn't just win: he's the one who always excels over Isaac. the resentment here <3)

And what's Isaac to do? He, too, limps back home, knowing full well what is going to await him: a disappointed Lord. A Lord who always favored Hector, because he's better than Isaac. And he proved him right. And it eats at him inside.

"You don’t answer even if I call... Ha... Did he even cut off my power?

Take a look at this pathetic sight, my Lord, my broken sword used as a cane My body is the proof of Your expectations for him Please ridicule me, scold me Next time I will do whatever it takes."

PtR doesn't go into detail about Isaac's inferiority complex, unlike the MF manga - but the way it conveys it it's just. argh. this man.

And then he reaches the castle... or what is left of it.

This is a masterpiece of a page. You can almost hear the howling wind. If this was an anime, it would have no music at all. Isaac is drawn at his most detailed and his most handsome as his face is washed in horror. You don't need anything to get hit with the realization that Isaac didn't just lost a fight, he lost his entire life: he has no home that would allow him to live, no Lord to serve, no friend to fight with, and even his magic has been cut out. He has nothing left, through no direct fault of his own.

Isaac wasn't there to protect his Lord. Because of Hector.

"I won't let you say that your rebellion has nothing to do with this! Had you cut off my head as well, I would not have seen this... Hector...!"

And as the real heroes of the story stand in the dawn to admire their hard-earned victory against evil, a broken man vows revenge for being forced to live on.

And man, will he take his revenge.

this is fucking peak man i can't stop eating my own hands it's so good it's so GOOD

I feel bad for Isaac! This simping asshole who will go then to kill an innocent woman and torment his former friend with! This piece of shit who wanted to happily exterminate mankind is genuinely pitiable in these circumstances! But the story doesn't hold your hand to make you feel sorry for him - it respects your intelligence enough to understand the facts and draw your own conclusions

Kojima is not only an artist out of this world, but an excellent writer.

urgh but it would take me too long to talk about my favorite scenes from this short manga! I made a lot of posts about it! It's so packed with scenes, beautiful quotes, poignant character moments, symbolism...

Ah, it sure deserved to be adapted :')

(also yes Isaac can be very good-looking when he wants to. He has honestly one of my favorite designs in the series precisely because his face has unique features. highly underrated <3)

#castlevania #akumajou dracula #curse of darkness #prelude to revenge #isaac laforeze #hector castlevania #please come to me to allow me to gush because it makes me so happy #thank you!

17 notes · View notes

stay-mon-army · 3 months

Text

5 Ways to Win a Prince

Word Count: 6,283 words (wtf the longest fic I've written so far)

Warning(s): pining, kissing, light touching, secret romance, fear of rejection/being separated by parental figures, creepy suitor/bad vibes from unnamed side character

Pairing: Prince!Park Jinyoung (GOT7) x Knight!gn!reader

Requested by: @crzy-devil (sorry this took so long!)

1- Sneak in to Visit

The sun began its slow descent, painting the distant horizon in fire and gold, as though the trees on the mountains had erupted with flames. You watched the colors shift and change as you rested your back against the rough rocks that make up the walls of the castle you’ve sworn to protect.

The metal armor adorning your body kept you warm from the chilling breeze that stirs the trees, making them dance alone within the field below you. The grounds of the castle roll gently downhill into a field and garden away from the balcony you currently rest under. You were always envious of his view, despite the fact you sneak in and are able to enjoy it yourself very often. Thinking of your secret path, you glance one last time at the horizon, deciding that the lowering sun had dimmed enough to allow you to steal away up the side of the wall.

You stand, double-checking that all of your armor and weapons are properly secured to your body before turning to face the wall. The bricks were firmly secured together, but certain bricks were not properly flush or were beginning to chip, giving you perfect foot and handholds to support your travels up its edge. Months of practice had made this climb easier and easier, so now it was no time at all before you were lifting yourself over the balcony railing, slipping down gently onto the marble outcropping that led to the glass doors into the Prince’s room.

Through the doors, you could see a fire gently crackling and flickering within the giant hearth that Jinyoung loved so much. Unsurprisingly, settled deep into one of the chairs encircling the fire, was your prince, his nose pressed into a book, his legs tucked up beneath him as though he could make himself small enough to actually enter the world in which he was engrossed. Just the sight of him brought a bright smile to your face, releasing the tensions of the day full of training and drilling for the protection of the kingdom. Nothing could make all of that pain and stress worth it as much as seeing the man before you.

Slowly, so as not to disturb him, you inch to the door, sliding open the glass doors, and slipping into the room to make your way closer to his gorgeous red and gold armchair that he so favored. Finally, when you placed your hand down on the arm of the chair as though you were making him aware of your presence, he turns his warm brown eyes up to meet your face, a gentle look of surprise parting his pink lips and flushing his detailed cheeks in a way that set your heart aflutter.

“Hello, my prince.” You whisper, leaning down to press a brushing kiss against one rose-tainted cheek. Jinyoung reaches up, fingers snagging behind your head to pull you down for a proper kiss, his lips grazing yours like snow drifting against the wind during the first snow, as though he was teasing you with his presence more than allowing either of you to enjoy it fully.

That was a change that had grown over time; in the beginning, you were both so afraid of not getting time together, not being able to be together, that you would waste no time, pressing together your lips and bodies as close as you could manage, sure you would run out of chances to hold each other that way. However, as time went on, you began to see the ways in which the small, subtle, simple touches and intimacies brought forth sweeter emotions than rushing through and feeling all at once. You were glad now to be able to spend moments like this; barely touching and yet feeling more than anyone else could make you feel, seeing everything the world had to offer and knowing you could take it whenever you wanted, but being secure enough to let it come to you.

You pull away from the man, who tilts his head up as though he’s chasing after you, before he settles back into his chair, lifting the book that he had rested on his lap. He reaches to a nearby table to grab a small bookmark, sliding it between two pages carefully, before setting the book down on the table.

You grab his hands, lifting him from his seat to spin the two of you around and pull him into your lap back into the cushioned chair. He chuckles at your actions, resting a hand against your collarbone as he shifts to find a comfortable position on your armored lap.

“I know these are for keeping you safe and all, but they really could have spent a little extra into making these more comfortable, couldn’t they?” He jokes, flicking the breastplate that separated your bodies from each other.

You laugh along, taking his hand and rubbing your thumb across his knuckles, raising them to press your lips against them as well.

“Well, once you’re king, you have all the power in the world to make that change to our uniform. For now, we must suffer in silence, lest we be found out and whisked apart.” You lean in to whisper the last sentence, letting your breath feather across his ear and neck, sending a shiver down his spine that has him pressing harder against your body.

“I would never let them keep me from you. Come hell or high water, I would never be separated from you – let them try.” This wasn’t the first time he had said similar sentiments, and it brought joy to you hearing it every time. You felt the same way, but to know that your prince would do anything to keep you together – your heart beats wildly at the thought.

You pull Jinyoung down closer to you, though you doubt it’s very possible to do that, and lean your face close to him, your nose brushing his intimately as you look down into his eyes.

“I share your sentiments, Prince. I promise to you, that my oath to you and your family is not only one as a soldier, as a knight, as a guard, but as a lover, as a human, as a simple servant under an idol. My devotion to you will never waver and I will not let anything but death pull me from your side. No matter what else I must give up, no matter who I may have to become or kill, I will be by your side, protecting you and yours, until Lady Death comes to bring me across to the otherworld.”

Jinyoung’s eyes shimmer with tears as he presses his forehead against yours, his hands coming to cup your cheeks.

“And I you, my love.” He whispers, finally press your lips together properly, pulling your bodies as close as possible. He holds you close and you let yourself sink into the sensation of holding the one you swear your life to, letting life carry you where it will.

2- Save Him from Unworthy Suitors

The worst part about being in love with the Prince was that he was destined to be put on dates with others constantly in the hopes of making relations with other kingdoms to keep the country safe from the neighboring lands. Most of the lands got along well enough, so there wasn’t a lot of fighting anyway, but Jinyoung’s parents were always trying to set up the next power couple of the continent.

Many times, you were sent out as a guard for the dates, if they were off castle grounds, which meant that you had to sit and watch while someone tried to woo Jinyoung, only to be met with polite refusal and friendship. Most of those who were on these dates felt the same way and had their own lovers back home in their kingdoms. They played along well as though they enjoyed the date, but it was only out of friendship and political acceptance.

However, on occasion, a date was set up between the young prince and someone who truly wished to catch his fancy. Most were amicable and, while often pushy and intense in trying to prove their worth to Jinyoung, were quick to accept Jinyoung’s refusal at the end of the date.

One day, however, there was a young male suitor who refused to take no for an answer. After one date had gone over without any hassle, Jinyoung had gone to his chambers that night with you and told you that he felt alright about the date, and that nothing would come of it, as per usual. Unfortunately for you both, the young man was infatuated with Jinyoung and had not accepted the refusal after only one shot. He had gone to the Queen after the date and explained in detail how he was sure another date would be enough to win over her son, and the Queen had quickly agreed, growing worried that Jinyoung would end up alone until he became King, which the Queen didn’t want to happen. The Queen wanted only for her son to be happy with a person to cherish him; unaware was she of the person warming her sons bed that very night.

Another date was scheduled and prepared for the two men, and for once, you were not scheduled to chaperon the excursion. That, however, was not going to stop you from riding along with them.

The men were scheduled to ride down a ways through the woods just outside of the castle, to a small lake area to have a picnic. Jinyoung told you about the trip, knowing there was no way he could stop you (not that he wanted to) and it would be easier to hide your spying if you didn’t have to track them too closely.

So on the morning of the day, you waiting until just after the other guards had followed after the prince and his suitor before slipping onto a horse of your own and tracing their path. You knew the way to the lake, as it was a common spot for you and the prince to also run off for little getaways together, making you all the more annoyed that the Queen had planned such a personal trip for the prince, despite his assertion that he had no interest in suitors.

Not long down the pathway through the rustling leaves, wandering along the sunlight dappled trail, you spot the edge of the clearing surrounding the lake, so you pull your horse off the path and hobble it to a tree. You sneak up to the edge of the treeline to look out onto the group setting up a picnic beside the water – blanket and food spread out in the attempt at fashion simply seeing cheesy to your untrained eye. You had spent years in the castle, but you didn’t understand the need to always seem to fancy and rich. It was something Jinyoung claimed to love about you; you didn’t let the glitz, glam, and politics of the castle change who you really were at your core.

You decided to rest yourself on a fallen log, knowing that you would likely be here for a while watching.

However, not long after the picnic had been set out and the food had been eaten, the man had waved off the guards, asking them for privacy between the two. The guards had looked at each other, unsure what to do, but eventually shrugged and wandered off into the treeline, barely missing your seated figure.

You watched closely, eyebrows furrowed at the odd behavior of the young man now reaching his hand out to place it against Jinyoung’s arm. You lean forward in your seat, feeling your body heat as you realize that Jinyoung is fidgeting, looking quite uncomfortable at the situation at hand. Nothing had happened yet, but you knew Jinyoung’s moods better than anyone, and could read the emotions on his face even from yards away. Jinyoung was not happy.

Thinking quickly on your feet, you sneaked back to your horse, untying it from the tree, leading it back onto the road. You slip into the saddle, quickly kicking the horse into a canter to round the final bend and reach the lake on which the men were sitting.

The men both startled, turning to face you as they hear you call out for the Prince, reining your horse in just in time to spray sand against the young man who finally pulls away from Jinyoung to wipe his shirt and face.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Your Highness, but I must request that you come with me at once. There is an urgent matter back at the castle that requires your immediate attention, and I was instructed to come collect you quickly without any delay. If I might entreat you to climb upon my horse, I can get us back to the castle quickly.” You reach a hand down, doing your best to keep your face straight and serious as Jinyoung looks up at you with bewilderment, which fades quickly into barely hidden amusement.

“Of course, my Champion.” He raises to his feet, moving to take your hand, when he’s grabbed by the man still seated directly behind him, looking at him with confusion and annoyance.

“Why don’t you wait, Your Highness? I will come back with you as soon as we collect the guards and our things.” The young suitor gives a harsh look at you over Jinyoungs shoulder, before tugging on Jinyoung’s arm.

Jinyoung tugs his arm away, a feigned smile resting upon his lips as he steps ever closer to your patiently waiting horse. “No, I’m afraid this sounds much too urgent to wait even an extra moment. I shall see you back within the castle.” He turns without a second of hesitation, taking your arm and using the momentum of your assistance to pull himself onto the horse behind you, as he has done a million times.

He wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your back as you canter back the way you came, heading for the castle as though your errand was real. About halfway back to the castle, Jinyoung whispers out a soft “thank you” that you can barely make out against the wind and you relax, letting a hand rest against his fists balled against your stomach.

“Any time, my love.”

3- Flex your Strengths

The only time that you find joy other than being beside Jinyoung is when you’re in the training field. The guards all spent at least a handful of hours a day working in the field, ensuring that they keep their skills sharp and their muscles hard. You worked as a guide to the youth whenever possible; young pupils hoping to be guards and warriors were always trying to prove themselves in the field, but they always need a mentor to help them learn the tricks of the blade.

On warm summer days when there is nothing exciting happening in the castle, you often toil away your hours with a new pupil, a practice sword, and a sparing partner. Today was no exception.

You wiped away a layer of sweat threatening to drip into your eyes and blind you, as you roll out your sword arm. You had just bested yet another guard in a sparing match – you weren’t the most skilled warrior, but you had enough knowledge and skill to make you one of the top guards, tasked with protecting the royal family.

A new challenger steps up to the ring, groups of young and experienced fighters watching excitedly as the new man makes a show of stretching and swinging his sword, as though he could intimidate you into backing down or losing. Instead of bothering to “worry” about his theatrics, you continue shaking and stretching out your body, glancing over the crowd as you do so. You stutter in your stance for only a second as you spot a familiar face a few paces back from the edge of the crowd, a guard you’ve met several times standing beside them with a hand on their sword.

Jinyoung had come to see you practice. He didn’t often do this – he was the anxious one in whatever this was, always afraid of being spotted and questioned by someone who has no business in his. However, you were completely the opposite, ready to speak up about your love the moment he opens himself up to the idea. But here he was, standing with his arms crossed, a beautiful blue top tucked into tight dark trousers, his hair lightly ruffled by the soft wind blowing through the training field. He smiles softly, ducking his head slightly, almost impossible to see, if you weren’t in tune with every small movement of his body.

You smiled back, quickly turning back to your opponent as you both get into a fighting stance, preparing to spar. Both of you were wearing the standard armor and carrying wooden practice swords, but you could tell simply from the way he held himself that your opponent thought he had already won, simply from looking at you.

Obviously a newbie, then.

Someone to the side of the ring calls out the beginning of the match and the two of you begin circling each other, watching the way the other moves.

Seemingly on a whim, the man lunges forward, striking out with his sword. You step back, dodging the attack and sliding to the side, trying to pull the man off balance. He simply backs up, eyeing you and smirking, like he knows something that you don’t. You doubt it, most men who give you that look simply think that you’re afraid and running. No, you’re only bidding your time, looking for your chance to strike.

You circle the man again, watching for that telltale flinch of muscles before he lunges that you noticed last time. Finally you see it, only a millisecond before the man lunches again, this time attempting to rain down strike after strike. Instead, you block and dodge to barrage of blows, twisting and sliding your blade along his, redirecting him away from you every time. You see the beginnings of anger rising in the man; his face twisting slowly into a snarl, his hands tightening around the wooden hilt of the practice sword, his arms trembling from withheld rage. As his anger wells to a final explosion of aggression, he pulled his sword back, feinting a withdrawal before swinging his sword as hard as he could, aiming for your head.

You see this coming, however, and step to the side calmly, raising your sword with both hands to slash it across the mans side, effectively landing a “killing blow” that has the man grasping his side, dropping his sword in the process. You place your blade against the back of his neck, pulling it across it to simulate effecting a definitely killing blow to ensure your “win” in the fight.

The man growls up at you, moving to stand but you have already stepped away, being swept up by the crowd, who pats you on the back, calling out praise to you.

Another guard approaches, handing you a small letter folded up. You open it, seeing a familiar script dancing across the page with only two words written on it.

Visit later.

You glanced up to look around for the man responsible for your short letter, but he had disappeared.

You smiled and tucked the letter into the chestplate of your armor, beside your heart.

Who were you to say no to his request?

4- Show your Love

When you got off of practice that day, you went down to the market to get a small bouquet of flowers. You got his favorite, pink dahlias, which you thought fit him very well. In your kingdom, dahlia’s represented kindness and grace, something that you felt perfectly encapsulated the prince. He was equal parts of princely charm and empathetic sweetness, caring about all that he comes into contact with.

You take the flowers with you up to his room, sneaking through the corridors of the castle, since climbing the wall would surely crush the sweet petals of the fragrant plant you hold close to your body.

Finally making it to the doorway to his chambers, you look both ways before quickly opening the door and ducking inside. Last thing you needed was some random royal to see you slipping into the prince’s room with a bouquet of flowers and a childish grin on your face. Jinyoung wasn’t ready to go public, so you would keep it quiet for now. As long as you still got to be with him.

As you close the door quietly, you turn to find the prince shirtless, his pants being buttoned up by his chambermaid. You smile at the sudden look of surprise on the woman’s face – Jinyoung hadn’t seen you yet because his back was turned, but the woman could see you clearly.

You lift a finger to your lips, signaling her to keep quiet, and she quickly ducks her head back to securing the princes clothes for the afternoon. As she rises to grab the shirt for Jinyoung, you creep forward, wrapping your arms around his middle as you reach him, twirling him into the air.

He yelps, hands coming down to grab your arms, attempting to twist his body to face you. He knows instantly who it is that’s holding him, due to the flowers, the armor, and your familiar scent that has begun to wrap around him, sending his brain into a frenzy.

You can see he’s blushing, from the way his ears are blazing red under his hair and he’s trying to duck his face away from your gaze.

You drop him back onto the ground, letting your hands graze across his bare skin as you pull away, relishing in the way he shivers at your touch before he’s whipping around to face you.

“You scared the living daylights out of me.” He’s pouting, his eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up, but you could see the slight twitch in his lips fighting to smile.

“You really should be more on your toes. I could have been anyone coming in here. You should never let your guard down, my prince. It could put you in danger.” You lean in as you talk, ghosting your nose over his, causing him to tilt his head up, searching your lips. You pull back before he can make contact and now he’s pouting for real.

“If you weren’t such a menace, my chambermaid here would have at least given a scream of warning if it were anyone of danger. Unfortunately, she seems to like you a little more than she likes me.” He rolls his eyes, sending a playful wink back at the chambermaid who has her face half hidden behind her hand, holding the shirt in the other.

“Nonsense, no one could ever be immune to your boyish charms.” You press a kiss to the mans temple before holding out the flowers for him to see. “Even my measly pay gets wasted away on flowers for you, who needs for nothing, simply so that I can see that beautiful smile you grant me.” Said smile is already splitting his face into pure joy at seeing the circular globes of pink sprouting from your fist. He bends down to give the flowers a deep scent, pulling back with eyes closed and face softened with joy.

“No one knows exactly what I need quite like you, my dearest protector.” He jokes, turning back to the chambermaid so she can slip his shirt on, hiding his golden skin and gentle curves with a linen top of off-white cloth that looks insanely soft and comfortable.

After she secures the fabric to his body, she bows, grabs his day-clothes that need washing, and scampers from the room. She wasn’t likely to say anything – she’s the only one in the castle who knows about your relationship and has been aware of it for two years now. She had walked in on you two cuddling after you had accidentally fallen asleep one late night; she had been sworn to secrecy and had proven tight-lipped since.

You hand the flowers over to your lover before grabbing his hands, pulling him lightly over towards his bed, curtains pulled back to allow in the failing light of the evening through the windows to shine across the silken sheets you two had spent many nights entangled in together.

“What has gotten into you today, my love?” Jinyoung asks, following along pliantly, always willing to follow your lead and whims. He so rarely was able to let go, trust another, and go with the flow – only when he was with you was he able to let down his guard and truly feel.

“Nothing in particular, my prince, only my love for you.” You settle onto the edge of the bed, pulling him to stand between your legs, wrapping your arms around his waist to hold him close. He drapes his arms over your shoulders, looking down at where you sit before him with a look like sheer reverence across his features.

“I should continue to fan that fire if it leads to moments like this.” He whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss against your lips. You hold him close, relishing in the feeling of his lips pressed to yours, his tongue flicking against your own, his hands running up and down your shoulders and back, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching you.

“I would not complain.” You whisper back when he finally pulls away, a look of thought and concentration passing behind his eyes. “What is on your mind, my prince? I can see that something is troubling you.”

Jinyoung only shakes his head, smiling down at you with love and care.

“Nothing is troubling me, my love. It is only that, I have recently been thinking about how we keep our love a secret. I know that I have said that I do not wish for them to take you from me, while I still only have the power of a prince. However, the many times in which my mother tries to push me into new courtships is growing, and she has expressed fear that I will not be wed before taking the throne. I know that day is many moons off, but I begin to wonder whether it isn’t time that we finally tell the world about our love.” His face begins to glow with the idea, his voice rising with each word as though breathing life into the idea has sparked a flame that will not flicker, fed a stream that will not stop raging.

You reach a hand up, cradling his cheek as you grin back up at the prince. You had voiced several times your undying love for him, and him back to you, but you had resolved to spend many more days hidden away, sneaking your love, until he was king and no one could stop the two of you.

You had believed that his mother would be understanding – she had tried so many times to find a suitor for her son that you were sure she would be happy with nearly anyone that her son had picked to carry his heart. Jinyoung, on the other hand, was skeptical and afraid, after hearing the many mean things that other royals had said about other royals who had married or paired up “below their rank”.

To finally hear Jinyoung say that he was ready to tell the world, haters be damned, had your heart soaring out of your chest, feeling as though you couldn’t breathe with the happiness coursing through your veins.

You pull Jinyoung down on top of you, peppering his face with kisses, almost definitely crushing the beautiful flowers that you had bought earlier in the day. Nothing else mattered than being close to the prince now, showing him exactly how much his words and feelings meant to you. You knew that some part of him was already aware of your passion for him – you had shared it plenty of times in a number of ways, but you needed to reaffirm it now, in the light of the future of your relationship.

Nothing could stop you two now.

5- Tell the World

Days later, you followed Jinyoung into the throne room where his parents are seated on their respective thrones. You had interacted with both the King and Queen in the past, but not in this capacity and not when you were about to convince them into letting you have their sons hand in marriage.

Jinyoung stops before the dais on which they’re sitting and you stop beside him, kneeling and bowing to them before standing straight. You would show deference, but not weakness.

Jinyoung smiled up at his parents, who both smiled back down at their son. They truly loved him; there wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do for him. You had no doubt that they would grant his wish, if he truly meant what he said.

He takes a deep breath before reaching his hand out to grasp yours. You freeze, waiting for him to explain to his parents why you were both standing before them today.

“Mom, Dad, I know that you’ve both been working very hard to find me a suitor from one of the four kingdoms who is worthy of my heart. I don’t doubt that you have worked tirelessly and did your best work to find people who are really suitable for me and who would make amazing additions to our kingdom, as they would rule beside me. However, unfortunately, the person who won and deserves my heart was in our kingdom this entire time.” He tilts his head to smile at you, his hand gripping yours tightly as if to say he would never let go. “I know that a prince and a guard sounds impossible, and I know many other Kings and Queens would never let their son marry a guard, who many deem as below us. Unlike those men and women, I know that our kingdom values all life, all people, regardless of status and blood. As long as a person is good and kind, is loving and caring, shows strength and courage, defends what they believe in and does not waver in the face of adversity or temptation, that they are worthy of the best that life has to offer. I have met no other who fits those tenants in the way that (y/n) does. They have proven loyal and kind, shown mercy and strength, done all they can to protect their loved ones while never giving up on their own beliefs. They are the only person fit to rule beside me over this kingdom when I one day ascent the throne.”

Your eyes mist over at the heavy praise you’re receiving from the love of your life. Jinyoung was always ready to share with you how much you meant to him, but you had never heard him share such sentiments to anyone else – it was nice to hear when you were alone, but something else entirely when he was telling his parents and the court guards all about his feelings. You could see his mother dab at her eyes, tearing up just as you expected her to; she truly loved and wanted the best for her son.

The one you couldn’t read was the King. He was sitting, looking over the two of you with a neutral face, as though he hadn’t heard anything that the Prince had just said. He leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows against his knees and entwining his fingers together. He hums softly, a low rumble in the otherwise quiet room, as though he’s thinking or warming up his voice for whatever he’s about to say.

The Queen is looking over at the King now, a smile on her face, as though she knows something you don’t which relaxes your shoulders just the slightest bit. If the Queen wasn’t worried, why should you be?

As though your thought sparked something in the King, he looks over at you, reaching a hand out to gesture in your direction as he finally speaks. “So, what do you have to say to all this, my knight?”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Jinyoung, who is looking at you with those eyes that you had fallen in love with many moons again, and which always seemed to bring you to your knees before him, time and again.

“I have been raised within the walls of this kingdom, under the rule of you both, and under that philosophy and expectations that comes from this society. I have raised through the ranks to prove my worth as a guard to the royal family, to protecting those values and the people of this kingdom with my life. I have spent countless hours training to be the best person I can be, for myself, for my kingdom, for my King, but most importantly, for my Prince, who I have sworn my life to – both out loud and in my heart a million times over. I cannot swear that I have reached the point to claim those same things about myself that Jinyoung sees within me. However, I continue to try everyday to prove him right and to be worthy of him by my side. I don’t presume to be in a place to tell you how to react to our love for each other. I don’t wish to sway you by telling you lies or pressuring you with threats, or any of the things that would instantly lose me the right to stand here before you asking for Jinyoung’s hand. However, I know that you are a fair king. You look to your people to hear their stories and learn their worries, and you care about what will bring true joy back into the kingdom. I stand here today to tell you that nothing would make us happier than to be together, to have each other truly and completely, in the way that we love each other.”

You bow down after finishing your speech, showing that despite all of the things you said, you would respect whatever he ruled in this matter. It would break you to have to turn away from your Prince, but if the King truly believed it would be in his better interest not to wed you, to keep your love a secret, you would continue to spend your days hiding away, stealing glances and touches whenever the chance arose. You would not, however, let him truly be pulled from your grasp.

As you waited to hear the answer of the king, you could feel your heart beating within your chest, pounding against your rib cage as though it wished to fly back to Jinyoung, its true owner. The blood rushed in your ears and you could feel every fiber of your body thrumming with adrenaline and anticipation, knowing your whole world could crash down around you any moment.

Finally the king cleared his throat and you raised your eyes back to the graying man before you, who has a smile creasing his face which has your knees nearly dropping out from under you.

“If my son truly wishes to wed you and he has brought forth the courage to proclaim it before the courts, I see no reason to deny him the joys of love on the basis of something as trivial as status. You have proven strong in mind and body as a royal guard for many years, and the ways in which my son speaks about you shows that you continue to practice these tenets outside of the guard uniform and has me believing that you may be more worthy of the title of the Princes partner than any of the others we have brought here to woo him. I will give you my permission to court each other. Preparations can begin being made to plan the wedding to bind you two together.”

The Queen squeals with joy, leaping from her throne on the dais to raise down to her son, sweeping him into a hug. She presses kisses against his temple, stroking his hair, almost as though he was still a child that she found adorable, rather than a grown man who had just been sworn to wed. She turns to you next, pulling you into an equally strong hug, patting your back and whispering how truly happy she was and how thankful she was to have someone who could show her son the respect and love she knew he deserved.

Tears were shedding down her face, and matching ones traced down the Prince’s as he looked at you over his mother’s shoulder. He mouthed three words to you which had your throat closing up as well, your hands fisting into the queen’s dress as you try to hold back your own emotions.

You had finally won over the Prince, convinced the King and Queen to let you two be together, as you were meant to be. You had been so sure that fate would play out this way, two soulmates finding each other amongst perceived turmoil, but you still couldn’t believe that life had gone so well. You were in love with Prince Jinyoung and you swore to yourself that everyday from this day forward you would do anything to be the guard who deserved to marry the Prince.

And you never broke an oath.

#got7 #park jinyoung got7 #park jinyoung #park jinyoung imagine #got7 imagine #got7 fluff #kpop imagine #jinyoung #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung fluff #imagine

14 notes · View notes

schrijverr · 7 months

Text

I Found Myself a Cheerleader 24

Chapter 24 out of 28

Bumped to the lowest step on the social ladder after his fight with Billy, Steve gets roped in with the cheer team. What starts as a favor to help them out when one member breaks her leg in turn for protection from the brunt of the bullying, sets the universe on a different path.

In this chapter, the group goes to the War Zone to get supplies as Chrissy and Robin circle ever closer together, while Steve is still being an idiot about Eddie.

On AO3.

Ships: steddie & buckingham

Warnings: general season 4 shenanigans, internalized homophobia mention, period typical homophobia, talks about death

~~~~

Chapter 24: The War Zone

Steve had already guessed that whatever Eddie’s car alternative would be, it would be chaotic and troublesome, but he really doesn’t like what they’re doing right now. He’s sure the line of teens, headed by someone in a mask, isn’t very inconspicuous, but there is nothing to do now.

He follows Eddie to the mobile home, trying to make sure they don’t loose anyone on the way or are spotted by someone.

When they get there, Eddie opens the window and climbs into the mobile home in that clumsy graceful way of his. Steve watches his legs scramble, then his ass stick out, before he looks away to check again if no one saw, before climbing in after Eddie.

Steve has to grit his teeth against the pain, but he makes it through without yelling out or whimpering, which he counts as a win.

He helps in Chrissy, then Robin, who go to help in the others, while Eddie has disappeared to the front to hot wire the vehicle. Steve has to admit he’s curious and with the extra hands to help, he makes his way to the front to see what Eddie is doing.

At the front, Eddie is biting down on some pliers as his long fingers deftly get out the cables. In the back of his mind, Steve understands that they’re committing a crime, but he can’t help but burn the sight into his mind for later.

Needing to be able to focus on something other than Eddie’s hands and what they can do, Steve asks: “Where did you learn how to do this?” because it has never come up in their deep late night talks.

“Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to play fish or ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot wire,” Eddie begins and Steve immediately understands why this has never come up. Eddie hates his dad. No good memories there.

However, Eddie has a melodic voice that Steve is drawn too as Eddie continues: “Now, I swore to myself I wouldn’t wind up like he did, but now I’m wanted for murder, and soon, grand theft auto, so, uh, I’m really living up to that Munson name.”

Steve wants to say something about how Eddie is one of the kindest, sweetest people he has ever met and how he isn’t like his father at all. But he doesn’t know how to phrase it without it becoming a love confession, so he stares wordlessly and a little awkwardly.

Robin comes up behind him and puts him out of his misery by bluntly telling Eddie: “Eddie, I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving,” and Steve loves how she still remembers Eddie’s horrendous driving from that one night he drove Steve to her.

Both him and Eddie looked back at her and before Steve can share the sentiment, Eddie is already talking. Steve looks back and is entranced by how close their faces are, before he registers what Eddie is saying: “Oh, I’m just starting the sucker, Harrington’s got her. Don’t ya, baby boy.”

And he leans in at that last point, so Steve is totally justified in how he shuts down. It’s just too much, the smell of smoke as Eddie leans in, his big eyes so trusting and full of mirth, his lips close to Steve’s own, the baby boy, which is totally new and completely blind sighting him.

Luckily, it doesn’t seem like Eddie expects a reply, because he looks back to the wires and holds two together as the engine suddenly starts.

Music blasts out of the speakers at full volume and they all startle. It’s immediately chaos as the owners of the mobile home notice and start to bang on the door, while Eddie hurries out of his seat to make room for Steve.

“Shit,” Steve mutters to himself as he jumps into the seat, suddenly confronted with the fact that, despite Eddie’s trust, Steve has never driven one of these. He to hype himself up, he mutters: “It’s just a car, it’s just a car.”

He throws it in drive and screams to the back: “Everybody, hang on to something!” and with yelling from the other, Steve drives off, the mobile home swerving, before he gets it under control and they’re off on the road towards the War Zone.

It’s a quiet drive. All of them are working through their part in the plan, mentally preparing themselves to go back in there. Nancy is making a shopping list and Steve can hear Dustin and Erica whisper, but he doesn’t look back, keeping his eyes on the road.

Eventually, however, Robin can’t take the quiet anymore. She has fought Eddie to stay out of sight, stuffing him under a disgusting throw blanket, before convincing Chrissy to sleep more.

Now that the other girl is actually asleep, she makes her way to the front and plops down next to him. With Robin in the passenger side, Steve can almost make himself forget what kind of situation they’re in, can almost convince himself it’s a school day and he’s driving Robin to her early band practice.

“Does it handle well?” she asks. “Because no offense to the people we stole this thing from, but it doesn’t look very safe and while I know you’re a good driver, things can go wrong and I actually don’t look forward to being scraped off the asphalt if this thing explodes.”

“It handles just fine, Robs,” he assures her. “I can drive it just fine.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot how you probably practiced this for your whole six little nuggets dream,” Robin smirks, seemingly delighted she found a way to bring it up.

“Fuck off,” Steve laughs, his mood considerably lifted. He still remembers that night. It had been late and he’d been crying about how much life sucks sometimes when he’d blurted out: ‘And all I’ve ever wanted was a big family with like six little nuggets and the government doesn’t want me to and I don’t want to be straight forever just because a few little dumbasses gave me a concussion and baby fever.’

Right now Robin is making fun of him, like she had done the morning after when neither of them were sleep deprived anymore, but Steve still remembers how she promised him she’d carry his babies and they could be gay-straight together and the government could suck their dick.

Despite it all, he’s kind of touched by the fact that she would do that for him. But currently the reminder of that conversation isn’t really necessary. He’s just starting to be okay with being gay again, he doesn’t need this.

“Oh come on, dingus,” she grins. “It was hilarious.”

“It was humiliating,” Steve shoots back. “Now shut up or I’ll stop the car and you can walk to the War Zone.”

“Dad-voice,” Robin singsongs in turn and he kind of wants to strangle her.

“I said shut up,” Steve wails, a little miserable, but also comforted and feeling less like the end of the world is hanging over his head. He doesn’t know how Robin always manages to make him feel better, but she does and he loves her for it.

At the War Zone Nancy assigns people stuff to get, so they can get through their shopping trip effectively. Eddie, Dustin and Lucas are forced to stay behind in the car and Steve adds: “Erica, you too. We don’t know if they know you’re associated with Hellfire. Lets not risk it.”

“Fine by me,” Erica says, crossing her arms. “As long as you get me a cool weapon. I’m not defending myself with something lame.”

“I’ll try,” Steve tells her, fighting a fond eyeroll, because he knows it won’t be appreciated. He just loves how Erica will always unapologetically be herself, he hopes that will never fade.

In the store, Steve goes to grab a change of clothes for himself. As much as he loved being able to wear Eddie’s clothes, it will only be suspicious now and he doesn’t fancy going back down there without protection. He did that once, not keen on repeating it.

“How many of these do you think we need?” Robin asks him as he comes rounding the corner in his new clothes, holding up a few canisters of gasoline.

“Like five or six,” Steve says, talking out of his ass since he has no clue either.

He grabs a few more and helps put them in the cart to help Robin speed the process up. However, she pauses after the first load, looking up at something. This is unusual behavior for Robin, so Steve pauses too to see what she’s looking at.

Chrissy.

She has an ax in her hands, testing how it feels in her hands as she swings. Steve can admit she looks pretty cool while doing so, but going off Robin’s face, she thinks the action is more than cool, probably veering into the hot category.

Knowing what he knows, he leans against the shelves next to him and comments: “What are you gonna do, Robs? Stand here and gawk at her?”

“Shut up, Steve,” Robin shoots back. “You know I’m not going to do shit. She’s not into me and she already has enough on her plate. She might die today, remember? I don’t think she wants to deal with my feelings making her uncomfortable.”

Before Steve can reply, Chrissy seems to have noticed them staring and looks back at them. She grins widely and seemingly shows of the ax.

“Fuck, she’s cute,” Robin mutters under her breath.

Steve snorts and turns back to the canisters as he says: “Seems like Chrissy might appreciate the help in picking out a good weapon for you.”

Robin’s head practically whips around and she demands: “Do you know something I don’t, Harrington? What the fuck! Don’t do this to me. You know you can’t do this to me.”

“I’m not doing anything to you,” he promises. “It just seems to me that Chrissy might want to have something to stay alive for.”

If Steve would later have to describe how Robin is looking right now, he’d say that she looks like one of those wooden dolls with the mouth that can move, but no puppeteer behind her. Her face is slack, mouth agape.

Then she closes her mouth with a loud click and swallows heavily, before timidly saying: “That something is me?”

“It can be,” Steve says. “I wouldn’t fuck with you like that, people like us have to stick together.”

“We do,” Robin nods, then she says to herself: “I can do this.”

“Go get her, tiger,” Steve encourages her, giving her a slap on the back and letting her walk away. He only keeps watching the two long enough to know that it’s not ending in disaster, before going to gather the rest of their molotov cocktail supplies, as well as clothes for Eddie.

In his haste to escape the jocks that ransacked Steve’s house (something he’s trying not to think about) he rushed into his Hellfire clothes so that they wouldn’t find any trace of him there. It’s sweet that he thought of that, but he must be feeling disgusting, especially after going through the Upside Down. Hell, Steve feels much better in clean clothes.

So, Steve picks out better clothes for him. Is maybe very careful in his selection, wanting Eddie to feel good. Making sure it’s in his style. Maybe he overthinks it for quite a bit.

In the end, he has a good pair of pants that Eddie should love, black, sturdy, unnecessary amount of pockets and a strappy thing, as well as a nice black short sleeve T-shirt that may or may not match Steve’s own.

For Nancy and Robin he grabs vests with ample amount of pockets that they can stuff with stuff for protection. He also spots a funky barret that he knows Robin will love, even outside of the nonsense of this week and takes that too.

Right as he has made his purchase and is about to see if Chrissy and Robin are okay, Nancy comes rushing up to him and starts to hustle him out of the store. Confused he lets out a: “Hey!” afraid she might want to get him alone for a reason he does not want.

However, all those concerns fade and his blood turns to ice as she says: “Basketball team is here. They’re looking for war. We need to leave. Now!”

“The others?” he asks, fear gripping him as he imagines what the basketball team would be willing to do to them.

“Already got to them, now go,” she assures him as they rush out of the store.

Indeed, Max, Chrissy and Robin are all already making their way to the mobile home that they had parked out of sight when he and Nancy leave the store. Steve notices how close and flushed Chrissy and Robin are as he jogs past them and he sends the two of them a grin and a wink, before making his way into the vehicle.

“What happened?” Lucas asks, anxiously.

“We got to go,” Steve replies, hoping he comes across as blasé as he tosses his carefully selected outfit to Eddie, before he dumps the rest and gets behind the wheel.

“Your old friends are here,” he hears Robin tell Lucas, who curses.

That sends all of them into a panicked tizzy and Steve feels the urge to shout at them as they rush him. This shit is already hard enough without people yelling at him to hurry the fuck up. He knows they have to go, okay.

He tears out of the War Zone’s parking lot and onto the main road, just going into a random direction until Eddie nearly scares the shit out of him by coming up behind him and talking into his ear, breath hot against his neck. “Turn right up here.”

Without having the time to process this, Steve takes the turn. Then he asks: “Where are we even going?”

“A clearing I go sometimes to think,” Eddie says, still behind him, which makes Steve more nervous than he wants to be.

“And why do you have to give me directions while you’re hovering behind me like some dark demon or one of your other little villain guys?” Steve asks, voice a little squeaky, but managing to make it sound annoyed rather than a little turned on and flustered.

Eddie lets out a deep chuckle that does not really help Steve’s libido, before he delightedly crows: “Oh, Stevie, you sure know how to make a guy swoon. You remembered my little guys!”

“Hard to forget when your talked about them non stop for months,” Steve mutters. “Plus, the kids also don’t shut up about your little guys.”

“I’m still choosing to take it as a compliment,” Eddie informs him and Steve doesn’t tell him that it was. Then Eddie moves on: “But I am trying not to be seen through this giant front window, so lurking in the shadows it is. Left at the intersection there.”

That is sadly enough a very valid explanation, so Steve is stuck with Eddie’s low voice in his ear for the entire drive. Usually Robin would come save him from himself and his gayness, however, she seems to be wrapped up in Chrissy and Steve will be damned before he takes this moment from her after everything.

It’s almost a relief when they get to the clearing without being spotted and can get to preparing for the upcoming battle.

Dustin excitedly volunteers himself to go help Eddie with preparing the shields, which means Steve isn’t shunning Eddie when he volunteers to make molotov cocktails with Robin and Chrissy. He wants to know where they’re at now and mope a little about his own abysmal love life. Eddie looks great in the clothes he picked out for him and the thought drives him nuts. Why did he does this to himself?

His eagerness to work together with the two girls earns him a weird look from Nancy that Steve could interpret as suspicion or jealousy, but he isn’t willing to make the effort.

They all disperse to do their task. Steve, Chrissy and Robin start out working diligently on making molotov cocktails.

While they work Chrissy and Robin keep close to each other, orbiting around one another in a way that makes it seem like an invisible force pulls them close. Steve doesn’t say a word, he isn’t just going to ask when they might not want to say, but if he happens to meet their eyes, he smiles at them.

After they found their rhythm and are sitting around, Chrissy suddenly speaks up. She asks: “Did you say anything in particular?”

“Hm?” Steve hums, looking up. Then the question registers and he answers: “Nothing explicit. I wouldn’t do that, just- just encouraged.”

“He was very helpful,” Robin adds. “Pep talk never hurts.”

“So you two figured your shit out?” he asks when Chrissy has smiled at him to indicate they’re all good. He never wants to make her feel like he betrayed her trust.

Steve watches as the two of them blush and glance at each other, before looking away. Robin is the one that meets Steve’s eyes and says: “Now is a pretty bad time for a date, but after- when we’re done. We’re going to on a picnic together. See where it leads.”

Chrissy nods: “It’s nice to have something to look forward to.”

And while Steve is happy for them, the words make something uncomfortable curl up in his chest, but he doesn’t show that. Instead he focuses on how happy he is for the two of them, letting a big smile come onto his face as he says: “That’s great! You two deserve it.”

“Thank you,” Chrissy smiles brightly and it’s not until now that Steve realizes just how much he loves Chrissy’s smile. How heartbroken he would be if anything were to happen to her. She’s his oldest friend and even though he and Robin have conjoined and bonded for life, he also can’t imagine his future without her in it.

“You okay, dingus?” Robin asks, noticing how his mood shifts.

“Yeah,” he smiles tightly, knowing he isn’t hiding his somber mood that well. So, he just comes clean and says: “Just not looking forward to what is coming.”

“None of us are,” Chrissy says, bumping her shoulder into his. A gesture that has become so comforting to him that he nearly chokes on the nostalgia, sadness and warmth all clogging his throat and warring in his chest.

“You can still change your mind, you know,” he tells her suddenly. “None of us would blame you if you didn’t want to do this.”

“Steve,” she sighs and Steve knows she isn’t going to change her mind. “You know I can’t do that.”

“I know,” Steve sighs. He doesn’t want to loose Max either. It’s a loose-loose and Steve feels like he’s going to loose his mind first, before anything bad even happens.

In the quiet pause that follow, Steve can hear his own hands play We’ll Meet Again over the headphones around Chrissy’s neck. Robin’s voice adds to the haunting atmosphere. All he can think of, is how she floated in that house and how she’s going back there to do it again.

“I’ll be careful,” she promises.

“You better,” Robin tells her. “I have a date to go on and while in the face of the world ending, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low, I do really wanna go.”

“I’ll be there,” Chrissy says.

Steve feels a burst of affection going through his own chest at the sight. He’s glad the two have found each other. After all Robin’s hopeless crushes, she deserves to have someone that actually likes her and he knows Chrissy deserves someone as caring as Robin. The two just fit together, even if they might seem like an unlikely duo.

His own eyes drift over to Eddie without his say so, but once he’s looking, it is hard to look away. It seems like Eddie and Dustin are fucking around and Steve just feels so much love for this man, who is already so good with the kids he adores. The thought that it had been Eddie next to him in his six little nugget dream pops up and he suppresses it.

Like Robin said, with the stakes of the world hanging over them, the chance he might have with Eddie seems way less important. He could loose Chrissy, he could loose one of his kids. Hell, it might go terribly wrong down there and he could loose any one of them. It doesn’t matter if Eddie will never know, as long as they all make it out alive and the world doesn’t explode.

“I’m gonna go check in with Max and Lucas,” Chrissy says as she gets up, getting Steve’s attention on her again. “You two also don’t get to die on me, okay. I’m not doing it. I’ll bring you back to kill you, don’t test me.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Robin says, doing a little salute and Steve can tell she wants to fling herself of something high with how much she cringes at herself the second she does.

So, to save her, he quickly gets the attention on himself, by smiling and saying: “Of course, we’re not just abandoning you like that,” though mentally he mostly promises himself that he is going to make sure Robin will make it to their date.

“I’m holding you to that,” Chrissy says, then bounces off.

Both Steve and Robin watch her go in silence. Then Robin says: “I kissed her.”

“What!” Steve exclaims. “Tell me!”

“Her lips were very soft,” Robin tells him dreamily. “She called me handsome and told me that I made her feel hopeful.”

“That’s great, Rob,” Steve says, feeling as if his face might fall off with how broadly he is smiling. “You two deserve each other. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Robin says. “Also thank you for giving me that push. I- I’m like over the moon about this, but-” she cuts herself off and shakes her head.

“What is it?” Steve asks, suddenly concerned. Did he read them wrong? Did it go badly?

“I’m just really scared a kiss is all I’m ever going to get,” Robin confesses softly.

Steve’s heart fucking breaks for this girl. She has been through so much and by that he doesn’t just mean customer service and Russian torture, but also years of feeling like she’s alone, different, wrong. Like she’s never going to be happy or loved. And Steve knows the feeling.

He knows it intimately, which is why he also knows that she deserves so much better than what the world is granting her. She deserves a future wherein she and Chrissy can be happy and in love without fear, where she can marry her if she wants to and tell people about how beautiful her wife or girlfriend or whatever the two of them are to each then, is.

God, Steve feels like he’s about to cry, because he desperately wants that for her, but he also desperately want that for himself.

It feels so fucking selfish to think about himself right now, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t have the guts to do what Robin did, doesn’t want to fuck it all up, doesn’t want to risk getting a no, before he has to go back there, too scared to hear that rejection.

It’s a little fucked up how not having that no is what gives him hope. A tantalizing possibility of a maybe, rather than a crushed dream.

However, he wishes it wasn’t this scary, that he didn’t loose out on months of hanging with Eddie just because he was so scared of the fact that he’s gay. That he never got to tease Dustin to his face with Eddie, never got to force Eddie to go to one of Lucas’ games, never got to tease Mike about how he’s trying to be Eddie or tell Eddie how much all the kids look up to him. Never got to sit in on one of the games, never got to see Eddie as DM or performing with Corroded Coffin.

He just never got to do any of that and now he probably never will, because the town hates Eddie’s guts and they all might die today or loose someone.

But as he often does with big things like this, he tries to put a lid on it and instead he just goes: “You really think that?”

“I don’t know,” Robin sighs, watching Chrissy some more. “I have this terrible, gnawing feeling that it might not work out for us this time.”

“You think we shouldn’t be doing this?” Steve asks, surprised, because as much as Robin must hate it, she hasn’t protested beyond the start at the fact that Chrissy is going to put herself at risk to be the bait.

“I think we’re mad fools, the lot of us,” Robin tells him, which feels more true to her. “I think Chrissy should be at home and safe and I think she should never have had to come close to any of this. Neither should me or you or any of us. But that’s not what happened, is it? And if we don’t stop him, who will? We have to try, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, because there isn’t much more to say. Robin has covered it all, from the uncertainty to having no real choice. It’s just their ragtag crew standing between the end of the world and there is nothing they can do to change it. So they’re just going to have to try. He raises the bottle of the molotov cocktail he’s making and sadly smiles: “To killing Vecna.”

“Slash Henry,” Robin says, holding up her own.

“Slash One,” Steve finishes, because of course he will, before they click their bottles.

They’re both silent after that, looking out as the others play around in the field. Their childish attempts of wielding the weapons feeling more like make belief than actually fighting. Out of all of them, only Nancy and Steve have really fought any of the monsters. And neither of them ever really won those fights. They don’t stand a chance against their boss.

God, they’re all kids and none of them stand a chance. Chrissy is going to give herself over on hope and a prayer, not truly knowing what sort of danger she’s putting herself in, while Eddie is going to face a hoard of bats by himself, because he trusts all of them to put an end to it, before he can truly be in danger.

The two of them might get themselves killed because they trust in Nancy’s plan, in Steve’s fighting, hell, even in Dustin’s technology and all their experience with this nonsense that Robin told them about.

Because at the end of the day, Robin still trusts Steve to know what he’s doing, to keep her safe like he did in that bunker and pull her out of her head like he does whenever she has a nightmare. To make her feel loved and cared for, like he did on that bathroom floor.

Steve feels the weight that Hopper’s absence left heavy on his shoulders. They all look up to him to make sure they live to see tomorrow and though he’s going to have to try, he can’t give any guarantees, just like Dustin said.

He can’t promise any of them jack shit. He can’t promise Eddie a graduation, he can’t promise Dustin the safety of his friends, he can’t promise Chrissy and Robin their first date.

Fuck!

Steve just feels helpless about all of it. He doesn’t want to go into the fight like this. He will never be able to live with himself if he couldn't at least do something for his two best friends, who have found each other despite it all and might not have anything past it.

“You’re not just going to have that one kiss,” he tells Robin forcefully and out of nowhere, making her startle.

“What?” Robin frowns. “What the hell are you talking about, dingus? Got a magic trick I don’t know about? Powers like Eleven? That would be really useful, you know. A bit late to mention it, but you know what they say, better late than-”

“Shut up for one second, Robin,” Steve cuts her off with an eyeroll. “I don’t have powers, but we’re also not fighting yet. Get in there,” he nods to the mobile home behind them, “and I’ll guard the door for you two.”

Robin’s eyes grow wide and she hisses: “Are you suggesting me and Chrissy fuck in there just in case the world end?”

“What! No!” Steve exclaims. “I’m suggesting you at least kiss her more and get three seconds of fucking privacy together just in case the world ends. You have a dirty mind.”

“Don’t blame me,” Robin pouts, her cheeks on fire. “It just seemed like a thing a dingus would suggest.”

“I can retract my offer, Buckley,” Steve informs her.

“No, wait, don’t!” Robin quickly backtracks. “I didn’t mean it like that, please still do that.”

Steve rolls his eyes: “I wasn’t serious about retracting it, you idiot. Now get in and I’ll get Chrissy,” he says, watching Robin scramble to go, before he turns to where Chrissy is and calls out: “Oi, Chris, come here for a sec.”

Chrissy cocks her head to the side, but quickly comes over. Concerned she asks: “What? Where’s Robin? Is something wrong?”

“Nah,” Steve assures her, before turning mischievous. “Remember when you helped me break in so I could have my stuff after my parents kicked me out?”

“Yeah?” Chrissy replies, obviously cautious about where this is going.

“It was a little bad to do that, but it felt right, remember that?” Steve continues.

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, still unsure but intrigued.

“Call this me repaying that favor,” Steve smirks, cocking his head to the mobile home that’s behind him. “Get in there. Have more than one kiss in an army surplus store. Just in case.”

Chrissy flushes, but smiles brightly and Steve makes sure to imprint every laugh line and blinding tooth into his memory as she does. She quickly kisses his cheek and whispers a soft thank you, before going in, while Steve takes a seat on the step of the door and nonchalantly continues making molotov cocktails.

It might not be much, but it is something he can do and that is more than he can say for these past few days. It feels damn good too.

He mulls over what he said to Chrissy and Robin. That they should take this moment just in case there won’t be any more. It’s a little morbid, he knows, but that’s just what comes with the territory of the Upside Down. If he had known how Starcourt would end, he would have taken a moment to hug Hopper before getting in the car. To tell him how much he meant to Steve.

Without his permission, his eyes drift over to Eddie. Handsome, lovely Eddie, who is good with his kids, whose smile is blinding, who is so kind and strong, who makes Steve feel special, even if he knows it’s not meant as that, who always has hair in front of his face, who is going to put himself in danger, who might not make it out alive…

If Steve were smart, he would take his own advice right now. Take that plunge and try and get as many seconds in with Eddie just in case.

He has paid attention to the other throughout all this, he knows that Eddie feels like he’s been running away from it all, that he hasn’t been brave, even though he has been so so so brave. But Steve knows how those feelings can eat at you, make you do something impulsively heroic. He’s been there and he doesn’t want that for Eddie.

Steve is the hero. He is the one that runs into danger and does something reckless to save the day and get everyone out. He can do that, because if he is the one doing that, then he can’t loose anyone else, just himself. If Eddie does that- Well, Steve doesn’t want to think about it.

Now, if Steve were smart, he’d tell Eddie that he means so much to Steve, too much for him to do anything stupid. That he should keep to the plan and keep himself safe, so that Steve can come back to him.

However, Steve isn’t half as brave as Eddie or Dustin or Robin seem to think. He’s scared and he is only good at putting his body on the line, his own emotions having been blocked off by years of successful suppression and fear.

He might not have always known he was gay, but he had noticed something might be off about him and had done everything to make sure he fit in right with others.

It’s a mindset he has only just let go off, just like he’s only just managed to pull Eddie back to him after pushing him away. He’s always been too much and he already lucked out by finding both Chrissy and Robin, who are willing to put up with him. The chance of Eddie not being turned off by him is too big to risk it.

Contrary to what it might look like, Steve doesn’t want to die. He wants to have a future, see what might come of it all. He wants to know what it is like to live as freely as he can and feel comfortable in his own skin.

He just wants his friends to be okay more, because if something happens to them on his watch, he knows it will break him. He also knows that if Eddie gives him a no, he might do something reckless and Robin would kill him if he did that.

So, he just looks from the sidelines and dreams. Maybe if they make it out, he tells himself. Maybe if the dust has settled and he and Eddie refind their friendship. Maybe.

Maybe…

But he can’t worry about that now. That’ll only serve as a distraction and they can’t afford those when there is so much at stake. This whole operation has to go smoothly, one hiccup and the whole thing might come crashing back down and there is too much on the line for that to happen.

Steve isn’t going to let himself be distracted. He’s keeping guard for Chrissy and Robin, giving them happy memories to cling to. That’s something he can do.

Around them, the sun starts to set and Steve knows they’re going to get going soon. So, he knocks on the door as he scans the others. No one has noticed their absence and Steve smiles, a little proud of what he managed for his two friends despite the circumstances.

He hears the door behind him unlock and Robin opens the door. He looks up, tilting his head back so he can see her and smirks at her flushed face.

She squats down next to him to be at the same height as him and looks around before whispering: “I touched her breast, dingus. Me!”

Steve snorts and tells her: “I’m happy for you. Something to cross of your bucket list; touched some boobies.”

“Gross, man, how many times have I told you not to say boobies,” Robin complains.

“What’s wrong with boobies?” Steve starts up a familiar argument. “It’s a normal name to call them, I don’t know what your problem is.”

“It’s just weird. It’s like- It’s like,” she thinks for a moment. “It’s like saying penis.”

“Iew, don’t say that,” Steve recoils.

Robin lights up in delight at having found something to bother Steve with. She repeats: “Penis, penis, penis. Why the face, Stevie? It’s a normal name to call it. Penis.”

Steve makes gagging noises while she talks. However, before he can reply the two are interrupted by Erica, who just looks at them both, before asking: “Why are you two always having to do something weird while I can hear you?”

The two of them look at each other, before bursting into laughter. The joyous sound out of tune in the midst of everyone gathering their weapons in order to gear up, but Steve doesn’t care. He needed that laugh, that little fun moment, before they have to be serious again.

But, the moment is gone now. Game faces are on again. They have had their little bit of fun and made their preparations. Now it’s time to go and actually fight this thing.

Nancy calls everyone over to the mobile home and Steve loads up the molotov cocktails before he does a headcount to check if everyone is there. Dustin rolls his eyes at him and says: “We’re not going to be missing in that short time, Steve. We know we have to go now.”

“Shut up, Henderson,” Steve snaps back, pretending to be annoyed. What he doesn’t tell Dustin is that he is using this headcount to imprint all their faces into his mind one last time. Just in case.

Then he gets behind the wheel and drives off to the Creel house, as he does, he can’t help but feel like Robin is right, like it might not work out, like something will go wrong.

A/N:

Six little nuggets? To Nancy? Sorry, no, I don’t remember that conversation. Never heard of her. That actually sounds more like something he’d share with his soulmate

Also can y’all tell how much I fucking love stobin omg, they’re besties, ur honor <3 they make me so fucking emotional and I will never get over any of their scenes together, if either of them dies next season I’m going to personally attack the Duffers, mark my words (this is a joke for legal reasons)

Also, also!!!! Chrissy and Robin!!!!! They did it!!!! I contemplated writing the confession scene, alas this is a Steve POV and Steve is a homie who gave them privacy, rip </3

18 notes · View notes

lake-archive · 2 months

Text

Chapter 10 - Daydreaming

AO3 Link

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters (main): Eula Lawrence (mentioned), Ann von Lupus (OC)

Series: They Say I Shouldn't, But...

Pairing: Eulann (Eula/Ann)

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

Ever since that conversation the feather was just moving on its own. Ann did not need to think long about words, how she wanted to phrase things. Their head was full of ideas, them even humming each time they were writing down whichever word came into their mind. It was a quick process, they did not need to waste too much thought on it. They were just writing down one word after the other, managing to create coherent sentences in no time! That was how fluid their writing was at this point. They had forgotten the time, perhaps even having forgotten when to sleep and eat. But that was not important at the moment. They had been in a literal rush and they couldn’t back out of it now! Not like they were going to anyway…

The story was piecing itself together – A young knight going on various adventures. Her having been wronged by everyone around her, her family and the townsfolk. Journeys to prove herself, one test after the other to win the favors of those around her, prove that she was not even close to the role everyone wanted to shove her into. Small tasks yet also massive ones, one after the other. Bit by bit. Each adventure had been living vividly in Ann’s own head, them unable to stop themself. Yeah, this idea should work! People might enjoy such a tale. No, her many tales! Surely, they would be something to behold! Or at least entertain… They should not get too ahead of themself here.

And yet, when reading through the lines while writing with their feather, they paused these movements for a moment. Their eyes were scanning the lines again, over and over, reading what they had decided to write.

‘ Seeking out the knight, that was what they had desired after so long. She was always away, far away. The country wasn’t big but big enough to always reside home, waiting for her return. Oh how the lover had craved for her – Not just her touch but also her smile. Just wanting the young Knight to return home safely, like always. It was an unbearable thought after all. Sure, she was strong, they knew that. But tragedy can strike at any time. Oh how they prayed for her. ‘I beg of thee dear Barbatos. Please carry her home safely. Please let the wind protect her, so that she may return home and I can hold my beloved in my arms once more.’ They would pray at every opportunity – Morning, afternoon and evening.

Oh how painful this was, being so far apart from another. The longing only became stronger the more time passed. This was unbearable, almost cruel. And yet the young lover had to hope. They had to trust the Lady Knight, put their faith into her. She will come home. She will. And once she has returned home, the two could be in each other’s embrace yet again. ’

Once the lines had kicked in they were just staring for a good few moments. Ann had done it again, hadn’t they? Yet again a tale featuring this ‘lover’ character. Honestly, that had not even been planned. They were just writing away and before they knew it they had worked on a love story in between all the trails and fights going on. A person who was yearning for the knight, wanting to stay close no matter what. All based on the imagery they constantly played in their own head, the imagery of Eula right in their head. Right with a beloved, a young person who—

Wait, hold that thought. This was starting to sound like something. Something more… What had Amber once asked?

“Are you sure it’s really just for a story?”

Back then they had answered it with a (more or less) clear ‘Yes’. It was just a story, nothing more. Right? That’s why they wanted to get to know Eula, having more inspiration and material to work with. Create a protagonist who is resembling her. Yeah, just that. A protagonist who is doing just that! And yet… Everytime they pictured anything they couldn’t help but be in awe before drifting into a daydream and essentially doing just that… Noting the daydream they were having down.

At first Ann had paid no mind to it. It was nothing after all and it could have been an interesting plot element. Yet they got sidetracked yet again, focusing more on one aspect, one they shouldn’t. But they did. And the more they read it over and over the more it started to sound like their inner desires. Something they wanted deep down. Because the more they read it the more they saw themself in there… Them being the lover yearning for the Lady Knight. Said Lady Knight being Eula of course…

It made them sit in their chair, staring onto the ceiling and consider all of this, each of the options. Is it just a story at this point? Is it really just that? Or is this more? Was this all just an excuse to live out their own fantasies on paper? Fantasies they had? It started to look like it, certainly. Desires, wishes, longings – All of it. The only thing making sense. It would explain the heart beating each time they were writing anything with this protagonist.

Yeah, there was no denying. They desired her, the Spindrift Knight. They wanted to be with her no matter what, be the one in her arms and… And…

Ah, this is a case of full on lovesickness, isn’t it?

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

6 notes · View notes

aceswritingcorner · 4 months

Text

cw: Mention of power imbalance, misogyny, bones moving/transformation

W.I.P for @dabislittlebeaniebaby--

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

‘Once upon a time, a handsome young prince lived in a castle. Although he had everything his heart desired… the prince was selfish and unkind. He taxed the village to fill his castle with the most beautiful objects. And his parties with the most beautiful people.’

Dabi snapped his fingers, leaning against his chair as the piano slowly filled the air, the women curtsied before standing back up, turning to one another as they began to dance. Dabi moved to his feet, joining amongst the midst of women adorned in white dresses with elegant hairstyles. He swayed with the different dancers, switching between different partners as he moved through the gaps of the groups with ease.

He could tell some of the women wanted to be with him, in one way or another, who wouldn’t want to be with a prince? He could have anything he wanted handed to him at a moments notice and barely lifted a finger for his needs.

His face contorted slightly as the song picked up its pace, the women moving faster as he swayed between them, barely paying them a passing glance now as he looked back at where his golden chair was. Women giving him smiles as they moved past him to the song.

A knock against the window broke the song as everyone paused in their motions, eyes drawn to the sound as rain poured outside of the castle. The doors opened with a gust of wind as the candles on the chandeliers blew out from the force, a hunched figure clothed in a dark cloak walked in as they walked with a stick.

Dabi grasped onto one of the candelabrum as it was handed to him by one of the servants, his head whipping back to the unknown figure walking into his castle.

‘Then one night an unexpected intruder arrived at the castle… seeking shelter from the bitter storm.’

Dabi marched forward, holding the candle in front of his gaze to look at the hunched figure who kneeled down in front of the prince. Wrinkled lines were etched into the elderly womans face as she looked up at the prince. The woman cautiously held up her hands, bringing up a dark flower with its petals in full bloom as she looked up at the prince.

‘As a gift, she offered the prince, a single rose.’

Dabi’s face became etched in disgust as he looked at the woman, her offering was pitiful at best to him. A mocking laugh made its way up his throat as he turned to look at the others behind him, laughing with a mocking grin.

The women began to laugh as well, most likely either agreeing with the prince’s notion, or merely attempting to win his favor. Some offered looks of disgust at the haggard woman as they looked at each other.

‘Repulsed by her haggard appearance,’ Dabi took the base of the flower between his fingers as he brought it up to his face with a disgusted look etched across his face. ‘The prince turned the woman away.’

He made a small look before throwing the flower back down in front of the woman with a disgusted scoff under his breath. He was a prince, he had whatever he wanted and his castle was already surrounded by carefully trimmed flower bushes that gave beautiful roses. Why would he ever settle for less?

‘But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances. For beauty is found within.’

‘When he dismissed her again.. The old woman’s outward appearance melted away.’

Magic slowly wrapped around the cloaked woman as the party guests gasped, stepping back away from the prince and the woman. Dabi took a step back as well as he watched the woman take the rose from the floor, rising to her feet

‘To reveal… a beautiful enchantress.’

Dabi could hear the guests and servants alike gasping as they attempted to move away. He fell to his knees as he gazed up at the woman, turning his head back as the guests screamed before running away from the enchantress.

‘The prince begged for forgiveness, but it was too late. For she had seen that there was no love in his heart.’

Everyone attempted to run away, pushing through the open door to leave the castle as the enchantress looked at the prince.

‘As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast. And placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there.’

Dabi groaned in pain as he felt his bones begin to grow, magic seeping into his body as fur grew and covered his skin. His teeth sharpening to form more of a beastly appearance as horns sprouted from his scalp, a roar escaping his throat. Anger coursed through his body as he dragged his claws across the painting, digging across the inked page and over what he had once looked like in disgust.

‘As days bled into years, the prince and his servants were forgotten by the world. For the enchantress had erased all memory of them… from the minds of the people they loved. But the rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose. If he could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell… the spell would be broken.’

‘If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.’

The beast cupped a clawed hand over the glass capsule that held the cursed rose, petals already had began to form on the bottom as winter seemed eternal in the castle.

‘As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?’

#dabi wip #ace's corner #mha wip #not completed yet #dabi x reader #beauty and the beast fic

17 notes · View notes

doobnnoob-tf2 · 2 years

Note

Question: Who is most likely to get the cleaning job? Boring I know but I just want to know who hate it. ~🦉 (*background* 🟦: Oi!)

hello, Owl Anon. C:

chores on the base are divided up based on either a daily system or a weekly system. cooking is determined day-by-day, and I have a slightly more in-depth post about it here!

cleaning chores, on the other hand, are determined on a weekly schedule. so one person may be in charge of doing laundry all week, cleaning the bathroom, taking out the trash, or what have you for the week. while larger chores (like said bathroom or kitchen (not dishes, that’s a separate one-person chore!)) are set up as pairs to make it easier.

chores, over time, have also become a currency. aka, “I’ll do you this favor but you gotta do the laundry this week for me.”

personal chores? they’re on their own. their rooms, their things, their spaces, that’s all on them

Scout: he’s constantly trying to pawn off his chores onto everyone else, but it never works. the irony is he is the one who started the idea of trading chores for favors and yet he’s never once had it work out for him. too often he’s the one asking everyone else for favors and then griping when they say, “alright but..”

Soldier: no one enjoys being paired up with him. not because he doesn’t do his chores, or does them poorly. he’s actually very militant on making sure things are clean! but if they’re not being done HIS way then they’re not being done right. and his way is always the most complicated, most difficult way of getting said chore done

Pyro: some of the team enjoys being paired up with them, others don’t. but that’s because they make a game out of cleaning to get themselves through it. and while some of the team enjoys how fun it makes the whole process, the others understandably just want to get it over with

Demoman: he likes some chores, but loathes others. laundry and dishes? he loves doing! they’re easy to do and he can just shut his mind off while he does them, have a radio playing, etc. but most anything else? he drags his feet a bit. he’ll do them, and he’ll do them very well because no one wants to live in filth, but he doesn’t enjoy doing them

Heavy: he’s very much a “we will get this done quickly and efficiently and no playing around” type of guy. he doesn’t love or hate any chore, they’re just what you’re supposed to do. and he doesn’t have time to play around (sorry, Pyro) or hold it off. he’ll get it done as soon as he (and the person he’s paired up with for those) can

Engineer: he tried once to make a cleaning robot. it’s.. a work in progress. it wound up making more of a mess than actually cleaning anything. besides that, he’s very attentive with his cleaning. more so than he needs to be really. he’ll wind up deep cleaning every night if it wasn’t for the team telling him it’s really not necessary as long as you clean every day

Medic: he is the only one exempt from cleaning duties. why? because he, himself, cleans the entire infirmary. if they want a sterile environment to drag themselves into with open wounds, then they better not be expecting him to also clean up the rest of the base as well

Sniper: he hates chores with a passion. he’s used to living in a tiny camper that’s quick and easy to clean and he only cleans up after himself. he will rush through chores like it’s no one’s business if he’s able to. this usually leaves his chore partner having to go around after him to finish things off but in a way that works out. he at least takes care of the majority of the mess so all that’s left is for them to spot clean, so win-win?

Spy: he’s a neat freak anyway, so cleaning in itself isn’t a big deal. it’s cleaning up after everyone else he loathes. there’s only a couple on the base he doesn’t mind being paired up with when it comes to setting the calendar for the month. that’s Engineer and Heavy. he doesn’t like excess noise when he’s in the zone and they’re the only ones that won’t open their mouths the whole time

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sharing one braincell #//Owl Anon

100 notes · View notes

alyjojo · 7 months

Text

October ⚖️ 2023 Monthly - Aquarius

Whole of your energy: 8 Swords rev

You’re needing to release yourself from something you’ve felt trapped in, or habits you keep yourself trapped in. There’s a particular message about you not caring enough about your health, and rest especially. Not getting enough sleep. Justice shows the need for balance in your life, and cutting away the excess that isn’t working for you, so that you can head down a new path with The Fool. The whole reading is saying you need to take care of yourself now, building up your Strength, so that you can have the necessary energy & be ready for something amazing that’s coming in later ⭐️

What’s going on in October:

4 Cups:

It could be a romantic relationship they’re talking about, or it could be several with 3 Cups here as well. Friends, lovers, family, you are neither here nor there with whether people come into your life, or leave it. There is a Knight of Wands energy with this, you could also be the one that’s very in and out with other people in your world. It’s possible that in love, one foot is always out of the door, you never really come in, have a seat, buy a dog, build a fence…you interact from the door 🚪 Just in case you have to walk right back out again. Non-committal behavior. That can apply to friends too. If that’s NOT you, then Justice can be showing these sorts of disconnected “connections” needing to be cut off and removed from your life. Or you need to stop, because it’s not doing you any favors.

4 Swords:

Clarified by 6 Wands, and a whole book of cards expressing your negative perceptions and expectations of everything that *should* be positive. You’re needing to heal the expectation that everything is going to go wrong, you’re always going to be disappointed, “nothing lasts forever”. In your meditation, it opened at the top of a mountain, on a long & winding staircase, in a freakin blizzard. There were coats nearby and the stairs were well salted, I was like “well, that‘s thoughtful” 😆 You were all the way at the bottom a ways in the distance, in a bubble with a table, chairs, tea and sunshine, perfectly happy & oblivious to this insane blizzard. You were happy to let me in & chat, it just wasn’t easy. In the preshuffle, 6 Cups rev kept showing up - healing the past. Or having healed. That is probably what all of this is talking about, and what that is will be different for everyone. Negative perceptions that need to go. Pessimistic views about your life, the people in it, and where you’re headed. You have to heal this because 6 Wands - *winning* is the point, the purpose, what you need to want, think, feel, and believe ⭐️ There’s no reason you can’t, except that you expect to fail. And you need more sleep. And a green smoothie. And a walk. Like every day.

Strength:

This is building the necessary Strength required - health wise, and also showing that you hold back from family, friends, coworkers, neighbors, do you even talk to your fish? 10 Pentacles shows what you have that you hold yourself back from. Or what you could have but push away. That’s a whole family unit, support, people celebrating with you, friends. The Tower & Wheel of Fortune show necessary, karmic, or destined…still unexpected disasters having happened in your world that’s caused this whole behavioral habit of holding yourself back in the first place. Could be a trauma response, 4 Swords can refer to mental health too and that seems to be what we’re dealing with here. 6 Wands can be recognition, how you operate with other people needs to be examined so you can realize how you keep yourself from what you want. 8 Swords upright is self-sabotage, and you’re needing to release that for your own good. There’s a brand new cycle waiting on you.

3 Cups:

This is a celebration with others, could be a party of some kind, a holiday, a reunion with some people maybe you’ve had conflicts with, or you just feel conflicted about how to operate with some of the people around you. You want to move forward and plan on giving what you can to the situation, but also don’t know how much of yourself you should give. It’s a constant conflict, one foot in and one foot out, or do you hold on tightly to something that’s maybe not so great for you, or doesn’t reciprocate your efforts. Again, balance is needed, it’s not an all or nothing sort of situation, not everyone is the same. Some people are not good for you, bye. Others deserve everything you’ve got and they reciprocate, it’s just figuring out who is what. I get your intentions are good, and any celebrations or parties you’re involved in should go well, despite your reservations.

The Star:

Your energy, it’s the light in the dark after The Tower has fallen, the inspiration to head down a new path with The Fool, also partly your energy, and its moving towards your dreams, or you being able to see & experience them being realized, your authentic path. Your constant indecision is being healed. Queen of Swords & 10 Cups is showing you with a happy ending, happy family, happy friends, a happy life. None of this has to do with other people, it’s you. You can speak your honest truth to others safely, and you should. Your happiness all comes when you heal the past, trauma responses, deeply ingrained behaviors, non-committal tendencies & fear. 6 Cups rev comes out officially here to end the reading. You’ve already healed, there are just some lingering behaviors or beliefs maybe you don’t initially realize need to go. Releasing those that aren’t aligned with what you want or where you’re heading, wherever that applies. I’m getting you hold back from things that make you happy. It’s just fear. Let it go ❄️

8888 here shows actions needing to be taken to release yourself from this “holding back” unsure energy so that you can move towards what’s meant for you.

6666 here shows The Lovers/Connections that are successful, supportive, and have an equal exchange of giving and receiving in your life are what helps you release any old bs, this is the goal to head towards, the “risk” to take. If they make it through the storm, celebrate it with them, and some tea 🫖

Signs you may be dealing with:

Every sign is here, heavy air 💯

Oracles: ✨

34 Stuck

You may be stuck because you are overly attached to a method or piece.

21 Truth

An honest desire to know and speak the truth produces beneficial results.

23 Forgiveness 😌

It has been said forgiveness is the greatest gift we can give ourselves - forgiveness of others, but also forgiveness of self. We are the most critical and judgmental of ourselves. This inner critic does so much more harm than criticism that comes from others. Forgive yourself for trusting others and getting hurt, for not knowing, for not seeing, for not believing. You are human and you are growing and learning. Human perfection is rooted in imperfection. This card indicates the need for forgiveness in the situation asked about.

We enter into October as:

Righteous Raspberry 💅🏽:

“I have the same high standards for myself as I do for others.”

This is a message to lighten up! Notice your present attitude towards others. Perhaps you’re being too hard on yourself, and others as well. Allow others to be as they are. Supporting others around you creates allies. Watch your expectations, you could be setting yourself up for disappointment. You cannot be satisfied if you expect others to live up to standards you can’t even live up to. Besides, others are not you. Do it wrong, mess it up, have flaws. Trying to make the world perfect will only exhaust and alienate. Allow things to simple be. Look for what’s right in your world.

What is to be learned in October:

Electric Blue Moon 🌚:

“If I don’t take care of it, it’ll never happen.”

It is not time to force an issue. If something feels important to you, you may be jumping the gun. If you are impatient, you may block something wonderful from coming to you. Now is not the time for a rushed decision, even if you think you’ve given something “plenty” of time, give it more. You have made your needs known to Spirit, now leave it alone. If you try to force a situation, you may bind yourself to something you could come to know as a hinderance. Allow right action to happen in its own time.

Blue may be a lucky color 💙

#aquarius #aquarius tarot reading #monthly tarot reading #October 2023 #astrology #tarot #tarotblr

10 notes · View notes