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porcelainseashore · 4 months

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Teenage Headache Dreams (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: High School! College! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You’re a bored, but ambitious high school student who can’t wait to escape small town life and make it in the big city. You thought you had it all figured out, until you unwittingly befriend the resident golden boy, Leon. A series of events beginning from junior year to college until Resident Evil 2 Remake.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Ambiguous/Open Ending

Content: High School AU, College AU, Pre-Resident Evil 2, Fluff, Romance, Cliche, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Lack of Communication

Author's Note: This is my first RE / Leon fic, but I wanted to try my hand at writing this little self-indulgent and potentially clichéd series. As you can guess, I love dance and high school dramas. I also created this with a sequel in mind, which will take place post-RE4R and involve more horror and mystery elements.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: An Unexpected Friendship

It was one of those beautiful late summer days with endless light and clear blue skies overhead. You leaned back against the bleachers, feeling the sun cast a warm glow on your face and the sultry breeze against your skin, sighing in utter bliss. The football field and the running track surrounding it were completely empty, just how you liked it, silent except for the relentless trilling of insects and the occasional bird that flew by. No one in your face, no one judging you or telling you how you should be like, no one you had to put up a front for. Just peace and quiet. A place where you could sit alone with your thoughts - and you had a lot of them - mostly about leaving this goddamn small town with its insular, mind-numbing inhabitants.

A trail of thick smoke wafted from your mouth as you took a drag from the joint you had been nursing for awhile. You weren’t exactly high as a kite, but you were definitely feeling some of its effects. You chuckled and gave a wry smile as the thought of being caught red-handed visualized in your mind. Sure, it was highly illegal what you were doing, much less on school property, but you were always a bit of a rebel. And frankly, you couldn’t give a shit. It was already August, but most students were still away on holiday. Not you though, you had to work on your extracurriculars. That’s what you had put your mind to this summer. No fancy beach getaways like the rest of your cheerleading mates had jetted off to. Just a grueling dance intensive and showcase you had auditioned successfully for in one of the larger cities nearby, as well as a bunch of campus visits. You needed to perfect your performance technique for that arts college application coming up in about a year’s time. You started way earlier than the rest even thought about it, because you knew you only had one chance for a one-way ticket out of this hole and you sure as hell weren’t taking any chances. Well, except with that funky smelling thing in your hand.

No one would be here anyway, it’s a Sunday for crying out loud! You shook your head in exasperation. Besides, you needed to relax and take the edge off a little.

Just as if you jinxed it with those thoughts, you heard the gate to the field unlocking and creaking open behind you.

Shit, shit, shit! Your eyes darted around frantically, but your movements were just so slow. Why the fuck would someone be here now?

Before you could drop the joint and stub it out with your shoe, a mop of dirty blonde hair and what you made out as someone dressed in a blue tracksuit with a duffel bag slung over his right shoulder entered your peripheral vision. It was soon accompanied by a sharp twist of his head in your direction, bangs falling over his deep blue eyes and you knew he had found the source of the offending smell, probably even from a mile away. His gaze trailed their way from your startled face to your joint hanging limply at the edge of your fingers and then back to your face again. His expression turned from confusion to a frown and then into a knowing smirk as he crossed his arms and leaned against the bleachers.

“Oh, hello. Didn’t expect to see you here. You got cheer practice or something?”

God, he was teasing you. At least you hoped that was all it was and not some form of blackmail. Well, no point hiding now.

“I’m off-duty,” you retorted. You tried to jog your memory of the boy standing in front of you. You were social, or at least you had to be with the rest of your girlfriends to keep up appearances, but you never really bothered with the people here beyond superficial conversations. Then you finally found it - a vague recollection of last season’s track and field meet. He had been one of the better sprinters, maybe the best even, you can’t really remember. There was an afterparty, and you congratulated him, but you doubt there was anything more substantive than that.

“Leon, isn’t it?”

His eyes perked up slightly and he smiled. “In the flesh.”

You snorted at his cheesy reply. What was he pulling?

“They gave you the key?” It almost sounded as if you were jealous.

He uncrossed his arms and placed his duffel bag on one of the benches in front of him, rummaging through its contents. “Yeah, I got a comp in the new term coming up.” Every now and then he glanced up at you, as if he wanted to ask something, but stopped himself.

A sense of boldness surged within you, as you felt like evening the odds a bit. “What? You want some?” You waved the joint in his face.

That certainly caught his attention. He stared for a good moment, before giving another one of his playful smiles and shaking his head. “Maybe after practice.” He unzipped his jacket and put it away. It was warm enough to train in his sports tank and as you admired the lean, muscular structure of his arms and shoulders now bared open, you couldn’t complain.

“So, how did you get in?”

Fuck. You snapped out of your reverie. He got you there, but you didn’t feel like lying. “Jumped the fence. You should try it some time.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he laughed.

“Oh, you’d be surprised.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Will I now?” The way it rolled off his tongue felt like a challenge and you secretly enjoyed this banter going on between you, as if you had known each other for years.

Shrugging your shoulders, you took another hit from the joint and let the calmness envelope you. “I never disappoint.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Leon flashed a wide grin that made you feel a knot forming in your stomach, but you didn’t know why.

He started to move towards the tracks, but stopped short, turning back to meet your eyes again. “Look, you don’t have to worry about all of that.” He gestured to what you were holding and the general surroundings. “I’m not going to tell.” With that, he made a sign that resembled crossing his heart. “It’ll be between you and me.”

You would have thought it was a joke if not for the sincere look he gave you, before heading off to train. That, and the fact that he did indeed take up your offer to join you afterwards in sharing what was left of the joint. You didn’t expect someone like him to. He seemed a bit too much of a straight-laced, golden boy for that. But then again, life was filled with surprises and you quietly scolded yourself for playing into stereotypes again - something you despise others doing to you.

It prompted both of you to converse even more until the late evening where you even missed your dinner. The questions and responses just flowed.

It turned out that you would share a number of classes together in the new term, specifically Math, History and Biology. Leon was a real earful when it came to his “insightful” one-liners on the teachers, which made you bury your head in your hands and groan. You never realized he would be such a goofball, but you found it somewhat endearing.

Like you, he was popular at school, but unlike you, he seemed to enjoy the company and appeared to be an open book. He would say it how it is, sometimes to the point of being blunt to a fault. Still, you guessed people found him rather easy-going and likable, in a non-threatening sort of a way. A part you wondered if chance meetings like today were how he made most of his friends.

Leon didn’t really have a plan for college yet. He just knew he wanted to do something good and help other people. You had a word for it - “idealistic”. He just shrugged in response, eyes downcast, until you assured him that it was an admirable quality, and you were the jaded one. He made a toast to your future in some arts college in the big city with his water bottle, remarking with a hint of self-deprecation that he wished he had a clearer idea of what he wanted to do with his life.

In turn, he asked you about your dealer. You had to stifle a laugh at that one. Generally, you weren’t as big into smoking up as he thought, but this time you bummed it off one of the seniors as a favor he owed you for hooking him up with one of your cheerleader friends. It didn’t stop Leon from calling you the “high school’s little pothead” every now and then though. He peered at you intently with his lip curled in amusement, as you rolled your eyes each time.

It had been such a long time since you could joke and speak your mind with someone this way. There wasn’t that suffocating nausea of pretending to be someone else around him and he had been so relaxed with you too. You could finally breathe again, and you’d like to think it wasn’t just the weed talking.

Whatever it was, you guessed this was the beginning of a real friendship - one that happened out of serendipity, but made you feel like you weren’t going to rot away in this small town. Well, not alone anyway.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #high school au #college au #re2 leon #re2 remake #resident evil 2 #resident evil #porcelainscribbles

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guessm0del · 8 months

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Little Red Riding Hood

Chapter Two: An Uninvited Guest

Summary: Living a life of caution for as long as she can remember, Y/N has never stayed too long in one place, always moving from town to town in hopes to hide her identity. With the Hunters Moon coming, she knows she must be extra careful, as the local culture resides heavily in the hunting of her kind. One night, when a cloaked figure unveils her secret and narrowly escapes, Y/N finds herself in a desperate situation: kill or be killed. With no face to go by, she must now search through the townsfolk before the stranger can spread the truth about her. But the task proves more than difficult when she realises her only lead is a long, crimson cloak.

Genre: horror, fantasy, little red riding hood retelling

Warnings: cursing, stalking, death, heavy smut (later included)

Pairing: redridinghood!Jungwon x femwolf! reader

chapter one here

chapter three here

chapter four here

Midnight air slips through the town square. The small clearing in front of the monastery lays bare, except for a small crow perched above its tallest wing, scrutinising my every move. The townspeople must be sound asleep in their warm beds. It’d be well past midnight by now, seeing as the way the moon slowly sinks across the stars. I glance to the midnight sky, cursing the way its constellations align so perfectly.

God is taunting me on this night.

He too, has seen my sin.

Perhaps he’s seen all along, and has only chosen tonight as the opportune time to tell me. Observing the empty courtyard to my left, I squint at the quiet townhouses in the distance. No red cloaks hurry through the footpaths.

The fool thinks he can hide from me.

The crow hawks a loud farewell and launches into the midnight sky. I hear it wishing me well as it passes. Smiling, I recount all the times they’ve watched on as I’ve killed the innocent. All creatures of the forest have an equal fealty to werewolves. Even birds know there are loyalties that must never be crossed.

Casting a subtle glance back to the monastery, I watch in silence as the town pastor gently closes the gates.

Shit.

Hearing him approach, I suck in an awkward breath and turn to retreat. His presence will only serve as a distraction.

He hurries forward and touches a gentle hand to my shoulder before I can turn away. “Y/N! I’ve been looking for you!”

Taking in a brief moment of freedom, I release a subtle sigh and turn to face my guest.

Pastor Mikaul has aged fairly since the last time I had seen him. His eyes droop with age, waning on the edge of exhaustion with chunks of hair that seemed to stick to his forehead like a mop.

In Mikeals mind, God was the greatest diety of all, giving sanctuary and hope to all those who send him their precious prayer.

I tilt my head to the side, observing the stern callouses that paint his palms. Some god indeed, stripping his faithful of freedom and leaving them to wander around a chapel all day like mindless fools. Blinded by their faith, High Priests in Avion spend their days locked up without a morsel of food or sunlight. They believe praying is the only thing they need to survive. I suppose it’s silly of me to judge, considering I’ve spent most of my life adapting to the shadows and living by the rules of the forest.

Pastor Mikeal makes an awkward cough as he takes his hand from my shoulder.

Cringing, I watch him shift closer, giving me a stern expression of disapproval. “The Council and I have been wondering why you haven’t been showing up to Church for our Sunday services.” He nearly whispers as he mentions the Council, pointing narrow glances to every corner of the courtyard before proceeding, “I understand your aunt is gravely ill, but perhaps praying for her good health will do better than neglecting your religious duties. You don’t want to break the Council’s trust now do you my dear?” Just as before, the old cripple goes into a hushed tone when mentioning the Council.

I suppress a smile.

Even the pastor fears them.

Under the guise of hiding a sob, I give each eye a firm pinch and wait impatiently for the tears to fall. I spend the next 10 minutes explaining my absences from church, and my dear aunts depleting health that seems to worsen each day. Waving my arms around on occasion, I weave a delicate tale of a hidden antidote, a difficult journey through the Northern treks of Rangaar, and a kind young woman trying to save her only living relative. In this story, and only in this story, I am the kind young woman. I finish my appeal with a long sob and a heartfelt apology thrown in for for his pride.

I watch through the corner of my eye as he stares uncertainly at the ground, catching the way his eyes twist in discomfort.

I’ve been a cold bitch to the him since the day Helena and I arrived in Avion. He wasn’t expecting this heartfelt reaction.

“My dear girl, if it troubles you so, let’s leave it be as it is for now…” he murmurs, briefly hesitating before giving my back a comforting pat.

I force myself into a stuttering mess. “B-but the Council will still be angry-”

“Don’t you worry about them, I’ll let the Council know of your impending troubles.” Giving me a reassuring pat on the back, he sets off in the opposite direction, leaving me to stand alone in the cold. I feel the sad expression on my face wear thin, moulding into the familiar uniformity of a nothingness.

In twelve days, when the winter solstice has begun, he will die. As will most in this town. Nothing has changed.

Our plans are still set, no matter how delayed.

I watch his figure morph into emptiness, chanting the promise once more in my mind.

They’re all going to die.

I turn to continue my hunt, finding myself pushing for any emotion, any small sign of sympathy, but all I feel is my heart sink at the knowledge that it’ll never hold more power over me than my head.

___

The South side of the forest could easily be considered the joyous reflection of the North. Complete opposites in every way.

Ever since Helena and I arrived in Avion, we’ve spent every spare hunting day covering the grounds of the North and West sides of the woods, using their confines of dark solidarity to our advantage while we hunted in secret.

The only few times I’ve needed to cross into the South was to visit Mary, who lives in a comfortable little cottage on the other side of town.

Leaves crunch beneath my feet with weary pace, leaving me to wonder if someone is actually watching me from afar or if it’s just my paranoia. I shake my head, pulling my lavender dress up to avoid a muddy branch in my path. Mary always fusses over my dresses, warning me not to get them dirty or she’ll be forced to do the one thing I hate most; make more of them. While Helena also pushes the importance of dresses as it eases the process of ‘blending in’ with the townsfolk, I’ve never been particularly fond of the discomfort a gown can bring me. Avion may be a quaint and colourful paradise in Summer and Spring, but in Winter the waters soak down through the small winded mud puddles, making it nearly impossible for any young woman to trek through the forest paths. How most Avion women bear the irritation that comes with wearing sun dresses and gowns everywhere they go, I’ll never know. Upholding the social standards of others has never been a concern of mine. Not with my situation.

I look ahead to the narrow stone path closing in, knowing I must be close. Mary usually insists I bring a map of Avion before setting off on my journey to her cottage, as the both of us know it’s not the easiest little place to find. Little does she know, I have a knack for finding people.

The crunch of leaves beneath my boots gradually soften, signalling I’m close. Mary’s cottage is situated in the centre of the most beautiful part of the forest, where the leaves in her garden shine with delicate care as though they’re watered everyday. Knowing Mary, they probably are. Small slivers of sunlight catch a small cottage coming up to my left. Hues of pink and green hover in small spaces of light above the roof. It’s almost as though Mary’s cottage is where the fairies come to congregate. That wouldn’t surprise me, honestly. I can already picture Mary welcoming them with her cinnamon cocoa and warm smile. Unlike the rest of the townsfolk, Mary has a pure heart filled with patience and compassion for the magical elements. Creatures of myth have never scared her, but that’s only because she’s never met a creature of dark magic.

She wouldn’t accept me, and as much as my affection for her stands firm, I certainly wouldn’t expect her to.

The smell of warm chocolate and pastry fills the air as I approach, pushing all thoughts of acceptance aside. Mary usually waits out the front for my arrival, fussing with my coat and boots so that I can enter comfortably, but today, she’s nowhere in sight. Making my way past the small porch steps, I take off my shoes and go to place them neatly by the door, stopping abruptly when I hear voices coming from inside. She must have a visitor. I glance to the small shoe rack by my side, searching for any shoes that mightn’t belong to Mary. I don’t see any.

Strange.

She hates it when people don’t take their shoes off before entering. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen in silence as I hear Mary’s voice accompanied by that of a males. Before I can catch what they’re saying I hear a loud crash followed by a scream.

Mary.

This was no visitor,

but rather an uninvited guest.

_____________________________________________

Authors Note:

Sheesh that took me forever haha, sorry to everyone who’s been waiting. I’m really going to try and punch out another chapter this week cause I’m getting too invested in my own story LMAO.

No fr, send help💀

Anyway hoes comment in the comment section if you want to be added to the taglist (for those that haven’t already asked)

Taglist: @ramenoil @moonmoongi

#enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #enhypen jungwon #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen imagines

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kingofsummer93 · 4 months

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Once Cursed, Twice Shy

Part 1 of my gift to @velidewrites for @acotargiftexchange!

Summary:

Don't mix vodka and magic, they said. It will end badly, they said.

Elain's never been particularly superstitious, but when a ghost from her past comes crashing back into her life, she realizes that the old saying might have been true after all.

And that she might have (accidentally and definitely not on purpose) cursed her ex-boyfriend.

Inspired by the Ex Hex by Rachel Hawkins.

Chapter 1: A Fateful Spark, an Ill-Timed Blaze

Ao3

Ten years previously

A clap of thunder rang out over the town of Maple Glen, followed by a torrential downpour so sudden it seemed as though the sky had singled out their little village to bear the brunt of its ire.

Elain sighed, burrowing further into the couch under her nest of blankets and pillows. She envied the storm, at that moment. What she wouldn’t give to be able to dump her hurt and anger into the world for a couple hours before being reborn, fresh and dewy, her broken heart melded back together by sunshine as her memories faded like a clearing sky.

She sighed, and the storm raged on as if in answer.

“Do you ever wish you were born as something else?” she asked, swirling the dregs of her bright blue cocktail around in her glass. “Like, a bird, or a tree, or, or…”

Vassa let out a noise that was halfway between a snort and a hiccup. “There it is.”

“There is what?”

“The philosophical stage of your drunk journey. I thought we passed it two drinks ago. First we have affectionate Elain, then loud Elain, followed with a brief appearance by pensive Elain, and then-”

Elain grabbed a throw pillow and chucked it at her friend, who nearly toppled off her end of the couch as she ducked to avoid it. Perhaps they were a bit drunk.

“I mean it,” Elain pressed, draining her glass. “Trees don’t have to worry about dumb boys, or school, or finding a job. They just…” She held out her arms and lifted her head to the ceiling, wriggling her fingers around like leaves in the wind. “Hang out and bask in the sunshine.”

“Babe,” Vassa said drily, “trees get cut down and then get sawed up into building materials or burned or whatever. Dumb boys are the least of their worries.”

Perhaps it was the vodka’s fault, but for some reason this seemed incredibly sad to Elain. Her throat closed up, her eyes suddenly burning with unshed tears.

“Oh no.” Vassa flapped her hands around in a panic, her mirth gone. “Oh shit, what did I say?”

“Lucien had a tree house growing up.” The words bubbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. “He told me his oldest brother helped him build it. And then one day he went out to the forest and discovered that the section of the woods with his tree house had been cut down. Something about tree rot.”

“See,” Vassa said wisely as she refilled both their glasses from a pitcher. “And that’s why you don’t want to be a tree.”

Elain snorted, wiping the tears from her face with an already damp corner of her blanket. She’d shed so many tears in the past two days that she was shocked she hadn’t dried up like a raisin yet.

“Fuck him,” Vassa continued. “He doesn’t deserve a treehouse- or any house, for that matter. He can live on the streets for all I care.”

Elain pictured it for a moment; Lucien’s long fiery hair grown even longer from years of living as a vagabond, a scraggly beard not quite covering his devilish grin. Perhaps he’d live in the woods, in a little cave with a mattress made of leaves and moss. The image didn’t repulse her as much as it should have.

Suddenly she was enraged.

This had been her refrain for the past three days, ever since she had so unceremoniously thrown him out of her apartment. Moments of deep grief when it seemed like she’d never stop crying were followed by rage so intense it felt like her blood was on fire.

The same fire that ran through his veins, the flame that she had found so utterly irresistible.

Her gaze moved against her will, landing on the box sitting in a corner near the door. She’d been studiously avoiding it, torn between the satisfaction she’d get at throwing it out, and the desire to keep a piece of him close, if only for a little while longer.

It was irrational, but that box of stuff had somehow become a physical reminder of him, and getting rid of it would be like cutting the final thread that tethered him to her. Not to mention that a small part of her brain still hoped that he would come back, that somehow it would turn out to all be a misunderstanding.

That he would choose her, against all odds, in defiance of the path that had been laid out for him.

Perhaps even more humiliating than the rejection itself had been the deception. Because he had known- for the entirety of the summer he had spent tangled up in bed with her, whispering that she was the one, making her burn in a way she had never even dreamed possible, he had known it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last, because by the end of the summer he was due back in England, where his betrothed waited for him.

The fucker had been engaged the entire time and hadn’t bothered sharing that information with her.

But the worst thing of all had been the way she’d so thoroughly fallen for him. Every touch, every whispered word had seemed so sincere that she’d never once questioned his devotion. What a fool she’d been. Perhaps if he had been honest with her from the start she would have allowed him to fall into her bed, but not into her heart.

Or better yet, she would have steered clear of Lucien Vanserra altogether.

Elain could still picture the moment she’d first laid eyes on him during the Summer Solstice festival. Vassa had bullied her into setting up a kissing booth (a venture that had turned out to be quite lucrative) and they’d had a steady stream of customers all morning. Around midday the energy in the crowd had shifted, like a ripple in a pond. And then the crowd had shifted, parting like the sea.

And he had appeared. Tall, his golden skin practically glowing in the summer sun, his shoulder-length hair so vividly red she immediately knew he was a witch. No human could ever look like that. He had locked eyes with her from a distance, and it had felt to Elain like she was being set on fire.

“Who is that?” she stage-whispered to Vassa, who had just given their elementary school math teacher a wholesome peck on the cheek for the sum of five dollars.

“Who?” Vassa followed her gaze, and her eyes went wide, her hand clamping painfully around Elain’s wrist.

“Ow!”

“I think he’s one of the Vanserras,” Vassa whispered, slightly awed. “He’s got to be, look at that hair.”

A smile quirked up the corner of the handsome stranger’s mouth, and Elain wondered absurdly if he had somehow heard. The Vanserras were a powerful magical family, and nobody knew the true depth of their power. She wouldn’t be surprised if they had unnaturally powerful hearing.

“I’ve never seen him before,” Elain said, stupidly. She felt slightly dazed as she continued to stare into his eyes, as if she was physically incapable of looking away.

In truth she had never seen any of them before.

Hundreds of years ago, a man called Thelor Vanserra had founded Maple Glen and tied his magic to the village. Magic ran strong here- for those who knew where to look, that is. Tourists simply assumed they had stumbled upon a particularly charming village, where commerce always boomed and disaster never struck.

But the truly odd thing about Maple Glen was the fact that it never snowed, despite being far enough north that it should by all reason get buried under snow every winter. It was like the town was stuck in perpetual autumn, with only a few weeks of balmier weather in the spring and summer. Nobody questioned it, assuming Maple Glen simply existed in a peculiar micro-climate.

It was a wonder how far people would go to avoid seeing magic, even when it existed right under their noses.

Twice a year, on Summer Solstice and Winter Solstice, a member of the Vanserra bloodline would come to town in order to regenerate the magic for the coming season before disappearing back to England. They were notoriously reclusive and haughty, and were rarely seen around town- much less strolling through a crowded festival.

“I always pictured them scrawny and inbred,” Vassa had said, surreptitiously fixing her hair.

The crooked grin on the stranger’s face widened, and Elain’s stomach dropped. He had definitely heard that.

And then he started walking towards them.

Elain froze, her stomach roiling with equal parts thrill and fear. Would he curse them? It didn’t seem likely, judging from the amusement on his face, but she squirmed nonetheless.

When he was a few paces away from their booth he paused, his eyes still fixed on her. From this close Elain could make out the color of his eyes- a warm brown, tinged russet, as if kissed by the flame his bloodline was rumored to wield. His features were sharp and elegant, his wide jaw covered with the barest hint of auburn stubble. There was a thin, crooked scar running down the left side of his face that, combined with the devilish gleam in his eyes, gave him an aura of danger. It sent a shiver down Elain’s spine, and she felt momentarily struck dumb, as if by magic.

“My lady,” he said, inclining his head. The motion made a strand of his vibrant hair fall over his face, and Elain’s fingers itched to brush it back.

Vassa giggled beside her. Elain had never, in her nineteen years of life, heard her friend make such a sound. She bit her lip hard to prevent herself from doing the same.

“If I walked through fire for you, could I get a kiss too?”

Vassa made a choked sound that sounded as though she was holding in another giggle. Elain could only stare for a moment, before realizing that she was staring at him with her mouth hanging wide open.

“I- sorry, what?”

With a casual wave of his hand a wall of flame had burst to life out of thin air. Elain jumped to her feet, scanning the crowd for signs of anyone having noticed the blatant display of magic. But oddly enough, nobody at all was looking at them. It was almost as if some force was making the crowd look away.

She glanced back at the flames just in time to see him walk through them. Surrounded by flames, with that troublesome grin on his face and his eyes twinkling with mirth, it almost seemed like she was being bewitched by the devil himself.

In the end it turned out to be not too far from the truth.

The summer romance that had followed had completely knocked her off her feet. Lucien was nothing like the boys she’d dated before. There was something charmingly old-fashioned about the way he spoke, his impeccable manners and posh accent so at odds with his serpentine tongue and devilish humour. He had felt like a drug, something decadent and rare that left her buoyant and giddy. She’d been hooked from her first taste, her fate sealed the moment he’d walked through those flames and pressed a feather-soft kiss directly to her lips. She’d let those flames consume her.

But the thing with fire, she’d learned, was that it could be doused in an instant.

Elain wondered if he ever would have said anything at all, had that vision not infiltrated her dreams. Would he simply have left her apartment and gotten on a plane back to Yorkshire without so much as a goodbye, never to be heard from again?

They had been lying in bed when the vision had swarmed her senses, limbs tangled together, a lazily swirling fan doing little to cool their heated skin. There was never any logic or reason to what triggered her visions, but something about that hazy veil between consciousness and sleep seemed to make her prone to them. One unclear reality being replaced by another, images fogging her mind so that sometimes she wasn’t sure if they were visions, dreams, or nothing at all.

But that night, as she’d laid there happy and content, blissfully uncaring about anything but the present, the future had decided to make itself known to her anyway. At first she thought she was simply drifting off into dreams of him, and she had sighed, grateful to be with him even in sleep.

Her blood had grown cold as she’d realized the Lucien in her mind was not alone, and nor was his soft smile aimed at her. There was someone else, someone with long rosewood-colored tresses and hazel eyes that shone almost golden, like a cat’s. Someone who was wearing a white dress, wrapped in the arms of the man currently in her bed.

Someone who was decidedly not her.

At first she’d chosen to ignore it. Perhaps it wasn’t a vision at all, but simply her lust-addled brain playing tricks on her. But then Lucien had announced that he needed to fly back home for a while, to take care of some business.

“I’ll be back before you notice I’m gone,” he assured her, his mouth pressed to her ear. “You won’t even miss me.”

In the span of a few seconds he had managed to rip her heart out and rip it to shreds. She’d been so stunned that at first she didn’t know how ro react.

“I’m sorry, Love,” he murmured, misunderstanding her shock as displeasure. “There’s some things with…my family, that I need to handle in person.”

Something about his choice of words had made Elain want to laugh, even as she was fighting rising tides of panic and heartbreak.

“Who is she?” had been the only words she’d been able to formulate.

Lucien stared at her in shock, the color draining from his skin until she knew for certain she hadn’t miscalculated.

Then had come the accusations, the excuses, the explanations, followed by more accusations.

He was engaged.

Betrothed had been the word he’d used, like something out of those romance novels her sister liked. He was betrothed to a stranger he’d never even met, someone he allegedly had no intention of marrying. He was going back to end it, he claimed. He wanted her, he assured.

“I didn’t want to say anything at first because I didn’t know what this thing was between us, and then when it became serious it felt like it was too late, and I didn’t know what to do, and please, Elain, just look at me…”

She had, and something about seeing him like this, his usual smooth exterior replaced by rambling words and eyes wide with panic, almost made her break. But then she’d remembered the woman in her vision, the one with such unusual colouring that she could only be a witch- and a powerful one, if she had been betrothed to a Vanserra. And most of all, she remembered the joy on Lucien’s face in that vision, the way his eyes had crinkled around the edges like they did when he was happy.

In retrospect, throwing his clothes out the window had perhaps been a tad immature, but it had been effective in getting him to shut up and leave her apartment.

Elain shook her head, clearing away the memories that refused to leave her alone.

“You know what,” she declared, slamming her glass on the coffee table with a clang, “let’s burn his stuff.”

Vassa whooped, jumping to her feet before Elain could second guess her decision. Fuck him. Fuck him and his beautiful fiancé (bethrothed) who no doubt had the perfect pedigree and wielded some powerful brand of magic to match the Vanserra’s. Something respectable, like elemental magic, or a knack for spell work. Not something weird and impossible to understand like her Sight.

“Fuck him,” she said again, getting to her feet. “Fuck her!”

“That’s the spirit!”

Vassa upended the box into their fireplace, lifting up a cloud of dust, ash, and various herbs from an ill-advised cleaning spell they’d tried to cast the week before. “Care to do the honors?” she asked, extending a box of matches towards Elain.

Elain took a shuddering breath as she looked at the sad little pile of ashy belongings. Clothes, a few books, thin leather straps Lucien had used to tie his hair back. Straps he’d once used to bind her wrists together as he-

Elain struck the match so aggressively that it snapped clean in half. The second one lit, the little flame seeming to mock her as it danced near the tips of her fingers.

The fire was slow to catch, smoking pathetically as it tried to crawl along the pile of fabric and books. And then it grew, until their faces warmed by the heat of the flames. Elain very pointedly ignored the fact that Lucien could summon flames ten times this size without so much as blinking.

“We curse you, Lucien Vanserra!” Vassa declared, stirring the flames with a poker.

“I hope you burn in hell,” Elain mumbled.

Vassa cackled. “He’d probably be happy there. Let him rot somewhere his flame can’t catch.”

Elain might have imagined it, but just for a moment the fire seemed to grow brighter in the hearth.

“And may his betrothed be frigid in bed!” Vassa added with another cackling laugh. Once again the flames flashed hotter, almost blue.

“And may she break his heart, just like he did mine,” Elain added sadly.

It seemed like she was speaking directly to the flames themselves, and for a second they appeared to wink in response. She blinked, and shook her head against a wave of disorientation. Merlin, she was drunk.

A flash of lightning lit up the night sky outside, followed by another rumble of thunder that made them both jump. With a mechanical groaning the lights inside the apartment blinked off, leaving them sitting there in the dark.

Vassa groaned. “Damn it, power’s out again.”

But Elain’s attention was still on the fire- or, more accurately, on the space where it should have been. In the space where moments before flames had danced merrily, there was now only a fine layer of ash, all traces of Lucien’s belongings having vanished, like the flames, into thin air.

Elain gulped. “Vassa? I think we might have done something bad.”

#elucien #elucien fanfic #acotar gift exchange #it's a holiday romcom folks #low plot heavy shenanigans #Lucien VanCursed

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gorgonwrites · 10 months

Text

bound to you, (part 5)

diluc x fem!reader

wc: 3, 178

author's note: a woman scorned is the most dangerous creature in all of Teyvat. all aboard the angsty express!!

CW: fem! reader, angst, hurt/comfort ig??, diluc WILL run away from you and his feelings if you let him, reader is lowkey a crybaby, oral (male receiving), temperature play sorta kinda, switch! diluc vibes, switch!reader, mentions of diluc having pretty bad anxiety, reader is a badass tbh. WHY IS DILUC SO EMO UGH. also i forgot horses aren't really a thing in genshin but just indulge me here ok

Diluc couldn’t sleep. The events of the last few hours were playing on a loop in his head, and he could feel his anxiety raising its ugly head to greet him. He was convinced he had gone too far this time. Birds faintly began chirping outside his window, signaling him to get out of bed. He sat on the edge, turning back to catch a glimpse of your sleeping frame. You were completely sprawled out, his blanket tangled between your legs from your constant tossing and turning. He reached his hand out to brush your jaw, but stopped himself.

He was a man starved of affection and he knew it was his own doing. He convinced himself long ago that he was to walk a path of perpetual unhappiness in his life. The loneliness he felt hardly bothered him until the proposal of his marriage to you was finalized and you marched into his life. You had quickly revived the winery, his staff, and ultimately him as well. After agreeing to marry you so he could cement new intelligence contacts in Fontaine, falling for you didn’t even cross his mind. Yet here you were, in his bed sleeping peacefully after he practically begged you to let him love you. This is getting dangerous. He wasn’t the type of man to run away, and he couldn’t think of much that actually scared him. But he couldn’t deny the fear simmering in his chest. He quietly got dressed, working slowly so he didn’t wake you. The sky was just beginning to light and with one last quick look at your sleeping face, he left his room and closed the door gently behind him.

You were woken up gently by the sunlight streaming in through Diluc’s window and onto your face. You basked in its warmth for a moment, last night’s endeavor hazily playing through your mind. You gently reached your arm out expecting to feel your husband’s warm body next to you, but it met the mattress instead. You turned over to realize you were alone in the room and you sat up with a start. You sat for a moment taking the room in bit by bit, and recalled Adelinde once telling you that Diluc was an extremely early riser. You were not, and decided that he had left the room to let you sleep through the early morning peacefully.

“Master Diluc had business at Angel’s Share today, I believe.” you sat once again at the breakfast table, dumbfounded. Adelinde was clearing the dishes when you finally asked her if she had seen your husband.

“But he said he didn’t have anything to do for the next few weeks.” you said flatly, trying to hide your disappointment from her. You felt lied to.

“Sometimes things come up at the tavern suddenly. Rather than ask another employee to ride into town to cover, he does it himself if he’s home. It keeps him busy.” she looked at you apologetically, catching onto the distress that was building underneath your skin.

“But,” you felt tears prick the corner of your eyes, “I’m here. We could keep ourselves busy together.” the tears started spilling down your cheeks and Adelinde rushed to your side, dabbing at your face with a handkerchief.

“Don’t let this make you unhappy, my Lady.” she whispered, “Give him time.” you snatched the handkerchief and quickly pushed yourself from the table, startling her. You stood up and looked at her with bloodshot eyes.

“Do not mistake my tears for sadness, Adelinde. I am angry. I feel like I take two steps towards him and he takes seven steps away from me. I don’t know how much longer my heart can handle the nonsense he continues to display.” wiping your tears, you continued. “Did he say when he would return?”

“No , my Lady, he rarely ever does. I’d suspect that since he’s at the Tavern that he’ll be back tonight.” Good. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind. Innocent intentions or not, he continued to break the promises he made you without warning. You were his wife, yes, and you mostly did what was asked of you. But he was your husband, and you were done letting him run away from you.

It was close to midnight, and you had been sitting by the front door of the manor for hours. Your arms crossed against your chest, you stared aimlessly out of the window waiting to see your husband’s figure appear out of the darkness. When he never came, your anger began to boil just under the surface. Without thinking, you pulled your cloak off of the hook across from you and threw it over your shoulders. You’d drag him back if you had to. You quietly made your way out to the stables to saddle up your favorite horse. Adelinde came sprinting out of the manner wearing only her nightdress and a robe, reaching you as you mounted your horse.

“My Lady! My Lady it’s too dark for you to be out right now, just the other day Elzer and the boys had to clear out a nearby hilichurl camp. We don’t know if they’re all gone yet-” you scoffed, realizing no one treated you competently here at the winery.

“I am not a child, Addy,” you hissed, “I am the Lady of this house and I will go where I please, when I please. My husband seems to do that quite often. Maybe I can learn a thing or two if I adopt that habit of his.” she backed away from you. You caught yourself, not wanting to take your anger out on her. “I’m going to find Master Diluc, Adelinde. If I fail, you will help me gather my belongings and I will be headed back to Fontaine by dawn. Am I clear?” she shook her head, frozen in place. “Good.”

Diluc slumped over the counter at Angel’s Share, exhausted, and watched as Charles continued to clean the tavern before leaving. He had spent the whole day there wrestling with his emotions, trying to logically work through each of them. Keeping himself busy always helped him manage his anxiety. This time, though, it felt like it was eating him alive. He felt as though something had dislodged in his chest and was rapidly trying to claw its way out, no matter how hard he tried to keep it in place. As he began to reorganize the liquor behind the counter to prepare for the following day, a commotion began outside. Groaning, he started towards the door to handle the situation. The door flew open before he was halfway there though, and he was met with your wild, fiery gaze. Your hair was a mess and you had several fresh cuts on your arms, and it looked like you’d been caught in a late summer rain shower because you were soaked.

“Y/n?” Diluc felt his anxiety melt away, quickly being replaced by anger rising in his chest. Only the Gods knew what creatures were crawling in the shadows on your way here, and he felt something finally snap inside of him.

“What the Hell are you doing here? Why are you not at home?” he could feel his face getting hot, desperately trying to control his tongue.

“That’s Lady y/n to you, young Master.” you hissed. “I’m here to drag my husband home where he belongs.” you were out of breath, and your tone sent a dagger through Diluc’s chest. You straightened up and brushed the dirt from your dress, trying to put up an icy wall to resist how seeing your husband made you feel. He reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose and you could tell he was getting angry.

“Continuing to push my boundaries, I see.” his voice sounded labored, like he was exerting a generous amount of self control. “You think it’s a game, but look at you! What happened?” That’s what he was concerned about? His rules? You scoffed in response, throwing your arms in the air.

“You’re concerned about rules right now, Master Diluc? About controlling your little wife? Don’t make me laugh.” tears were stinging your eyes and you tried desperately to not let them fall. “Here I thought you were concerned about me, that maybe you were beginning to care for me. I see now that you’re more interested in keeping me in a cage like a pet, only taking me out when it suits you.” your voice was shaky. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, do you? I’m not a child! You’d know that I’m much more powerful than you realize if you would just take the time to ask. I dealt with three Godsdamned hilichurls on the way here, and got rid of an Abyss mage at the gates because the knights on guard weren’t capable enough.” Diluc stared at you, speechless. He had underestimated you, yes. But it didn’t change that this marriage put you at a greater risk than a few hilichurls and a lone Abyss mage.

“Have you ever bothered to ask me why I have tried to set these boundaries with you?” he whispered. You were about to spit your anger at him again, but stopped and realized that you had indeed never asked him the reasoning behind his rules. “No, you haven’t. I’d divulge every detail if it meant you’d stop pushing my limits every damned day. But you’ve never asked. Not once. You don’t know a damn thing about the life that I’ve lived or the world that I know. Don’t pretend that you’d last more than a day.” his voice was rising with each sentence, and he was still desperately trying to control himself. You were right in front of him in an instant, jabbing your finger into his broad chest.

“That’s what I came to your chambers for last night, you know! I want every detail that you’re willing to give me. Everything! But instead, you spent half the damn night asking, no, begging me to let you love me.” you could feel the tears start to fall but you continued, “You confuse me! And I don’t know how much more I can withstand. I’m too lonely and restless here. There’s so much of this nation I have yet to see because you’re always gone and I never leave the estate. If I take one step towards you and our marriage, you take three leaps away from me with no regard to how it may make me feel.” you could feel Diluc’s hands wrapping around you but you pulled away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

“You don’t deserve love from a man like me. And I don’t deserve the kindness you show me.” he whispered, staring at the floor. His anger was fading now, replaced as always by his ever present anxiety. It was clawing its way out of his chest and he could feel it reaching every inch of his body, and he felt like he was falling. You sighed and pushed your damp hair out of your face. Was he always going to be this stubborn?

“You don’t get to make that decision for me, Diluc. I show kindness to those I care for. Do not rob me of yet another choice to make.” to your surprise, your voice was softening. “And I think I know more than you give me credit for.” Diluc’s eyes snapped to yours, his brows furrowing. “I- I snooped a little in your room this afternoon. I found the journal you kept while you were in Snezhnaya.” you looked away from your husband, unsure of how he’d react to you going through his personal belongings.

“And you still came to find me after reading all of that?” his voice was the one shaking now, making you look at him again. He had a pained look on his face. “I didn’t want you to know that side of me. And I didn’t want you wrapped up in any of the intelligence work I do. I don’t want you to be exposed to that side of this world.” that made you smile. Silly man. He obviously had no idea what family you came from, and had no grasp on the network your father had built between each of the seven nations of Teyvat. Maybe he knew a bit, and you knew that it was part of your marriage agreement.

“You don’t need to shelter me, you know.” you cooed, reaching up to brush his face with your fingers. “I know much more about this world than you realize. I’m not someone that needs such fierce protection either.” you stood up on your tiptoes and gently grabbed the back of Diluc’s neck, forcing him to bend so you could place a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your anger was quickly evaporating, and was being replaced by overwhelming arousal. He groaned at the contact, placing his hands on your hips and kissing your neck.

“I didn’t say you could touch me.” you whispered into his ear. He straightened up immediately, removing his hands from your hips only to bring one to his face to hide how red he was. You snickered. It was your turn to take care of your husband. “Oh, and Charles?” you looked over your shoulder, “You may go now. Thank you so much for the work that you do. I’ll see to it that you receive a small bonus for the trouble tonight.” you smiled, and the man behind you scurried out of the door instantly.

“Fuck. I forgot he was here.” Diluc breathed, not taking his eyes off of you. “We can stay here tonight. I- I have a spare room upstairs that I use from time to time when I’m too tired to ride back to the manor.” finally he was speaking with some sense. You nodded, and began gently pushing him towards the back door. For a man claiming to be too cruel to deserve your love, he felt like putty in your hands. He led you upstairs to a quaint room that overlooked the courtyard beside the tavern, and you gently pulled at his shoulders so he sat at the edge of the bed in front of you. You reached behind him to let his hair down and pushed it out of his face. He sighed and leaned into your touch, closing his eyes to savor the moment.

“I don’t deserve you.” he whispered. You rolled your eyes and tightly gripped his jaw to make him look at you.

“You think too much. Has anyone ever told you that?” you smiled, teasing him with the same sentiment he shared with you yesterday afternoon. He wrapped his arms around you, pushing his face into your chest in hopes that you wouldn’t see his reddened cheeks. You card your hands through his long hair, pressing your lips to the crown of his head. “Let me take care of you tonight.” You push your husband back and reach for his hands. Bringing one to your lips, you hold Diluc’s gaze as you remove his glove and kiss his palm. You do the same with the other and then begin unbuttoning his coat. He watches you in careful silence, letting you work. When you lift his shirt off of him, he finally speaks.

“You don’t have to do this, angel. And I want to clean up your arms- I’m worried about those cuts.” you looked at your arms. They were fresh cuts from your run in with the hilichurls, yes, but they weren’t deep. You’d actually forgotten about them, and you knew he was trying to distract you.

“That won’t work this time,” you continued undressing him, reaching for his belt. “And I can feel just how excited you are.” your hand slid down to palm the bulge in his pants, immediately making your husband suck in a shaky breath. “That’s what I thought.” He reached out to you to cup the side of your face but you batted his hand away. “Hands to yourself. No touching.” a whine escaped from Diluc’s lips as he brought his hand back to his side.

“You’re not being fair, angel.” you’d never seen him pout before. He looked like a spoiled child and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s my turn to make the rules.” as the words left your lips, you released his cock from his trousers. It bobbed in place, wet precum already dripping from the tip. Diluc’s breathing became increasingly labored as he anticipated your touch. You knelt between his spread legs, not looking away from your husband’s length. There was no way you’d fit the entire thing in your mouth and you began to imagine yourself bouncing up and down your husband’s cock, filled to the brim. Grabbing the base, you gave the tip a small lick. Diluc let out a delicious moan, throwing his head back.

That reaction was all you needed. You gripped his cock with both hands and began moving them up and down, dragging groans and whines from Diluc as you worked. You opened your mouth and began suckling at the tip, swirling your tongue around to lap up the precum that continued to spill over. Your husband’s breathing began to quicken and he couldn’t keep still. You reached out to pinch his side, signaling that you’d stop if he didn’t behave. He let out another half-choked whimper, stilling underneath you. You stopped to look up at him.

“Good boy.” he couldn’t stop the strangled cry that left his mouth, falling backwards onto the bed. You continued to work his cock with your hands and mouth relentlessly, sending him closer and closer to the edge.

“I can’t angel, I’m about to-” you cut him off.

“You can.” he yelped when your fingertips went cold, sending goosebumps across his skin. You wrapped your lips around his cock again and reached your hands up to his chest. His breath hitched, trying not to shrink away from your frozen touch.

“Y/n I can’t, oh Gods-” Diluc sounded frantic. “Gonna come, fuck-” your hands shot back down to the base of his cock and you sped up. With a loud cry Diluc grabbed a fistful of your hair and fucked into your face, his load shooting down the back of your throat. His movement slowed and you let his now softening cock fall from your mouth, strings of saliva connecting your lips and the tip. You let go of his length, content and tired. As you rose to your feet and turned towards the washbasin to grab something to clean your husband up, he roughly grabbed your waist and pulled you back, shoving you onto the bed underneath him. He was on you instantly, attacking your neck and any exposed skin that was available to him. You gasped in response, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“My turn.” he growled in your ear, sending a shockwave straight to your core.

I AM SO SORRY FOR THE END i was worried this part was getting too long!! i am working on part six at this very moment!! xx

#diluc x fem!reader #diluc fluff #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc smut #diluc genshin impact #diluc genshin x reader #diluc x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #switch!diluc

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little-mouse-gardens · 5 months

Text

Yandere fae turtles

Random au idea that popped up in my head

Yan turtles spider wick chronicles au? Based on a random scenario i wrote involving my ocs while listening to music from pans labyrinth and the spider wick soundtrack

Also tagging @lexiechr , @souperwrites and @radicallxser, thanks for inspiring these headcannons!

Warning : Mentions of violence, blood, murder, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, kidnapping (I do not condone this behavior in real life. this is only for entertainment purposes only)

Reader moves into an old cottage in the woods and begins renovating it. Like has the ideas layed out on the table and everything.

However, as they move in and begin renovations for their dream cottage…..reader notices something’s…off

Maybe it’s the way the breeze blows likes its whispering their name, or the odd sensation of being watch, but things keep getting stranger.

- Such as things going missing (milk, honey, baked goods, gadgets and gizmos, soft blankets and clothes)

- new expensive items or just things reader wanted appearing on their doorstep with little notes, their garden is blooming in winter. little protective charms start being put up mysteriously, weak stuff to keep the smaller nuisances away. jewelry, coats, and robes with strand symbols.

Though the most worrying is the fact that the chickens they keep around are terrified of the forest at night. The birds usually so bold to follow you around are literally petrified to go past a seemingly invisible line that circles the entire house.

Eventually reader discovers the attic of an old professor who was an expert in fae and nymphology after multiple wierd events keep happening around their house. Oddly, a few pages of the journal are missing in the back. However they do take the time to skim over the books contents and discover they may have a fae Problem.

So, reader deals with problem accordingly.

Learning how to properly but politely decline the gifts left on your porch. Putting up charms of protection and making sure everything is cleansed properly. Even going as far as to leave tiny offerings just outside of the edge of the forest to distract whoever or whatever was doing this.

Lining their house with stones, to ensure that there’s a barrier between your home and the fae.

Though reader reads back on the journey and realizes some forms of offering or giving trinkets can be interpreted as courting……oops

Things get worse.

dead birds and other things start being dropped on your door step, the salt gets blown away in strong gusts of wind from the forest

Just a whole slew of the things that make reader worry about their safety. So they decide to read the professors journals in order to seek answers. Oddly, they notice some of the pages are missing…..

Not realizing they have caught the eyes of the four gaurdians of the forest who all seek to capture them and make reader theirs.

Page by page and day by, reader learns more of who could be behind this never ending line of mysterious events. Especially with the help of mayhem, a small fae they discovered living in the attic who properly helps them learn more about the four kings of the fae and the forest covered mountains.

Reader notices mayhem bringing back things such as adder stones and old pages from the journal during the day, but remaining hidden inside when nightfall comes. Using the adder stones to let mayhem chase of pesky goblins and pixies tormenting their poor chickens.

One day, four handsome strangers arrive in town. Four turtle mutants who each seem particularly affectionate and fond of reader whenever they stop by or run into eachother. Flirting, praises, ect. Yet when they visit they never cross the line of stones.

The brothers come by on occasion, or rather frequently, but are strange around the house and insist on being chilavalorous and being invited in

Not once.

They hang out at the edge of your circle of stones. Often ask if you want to go for a late night walk or to invite them inside your home. ***Don’t. Do. It***

Either they wont leave, or you’ll disappear. And don’t give them your name under any circumstances.

Reader, having studied the journals and noticing mayhems aggression towards them, sense something off with the mysterious strangers who seem to shower them in attention and gifts. So, reader goes back home one evening and spends most of the night piecing together that journal

Page by page and using the old, pencil over some seemingly blank paper to reveal its hidden message indented into parchment. All the while they hear the noises of whispers on the wind. Affectionate but manipulative praises of love to come outside and be with them.

Reader doesn’t fall for it.

And eventually reader discovers the true identities of the turtles once mayhem helps them glue the last page inside.

So, by the fireplace with mayhem protectively flopped over by the front door, reader reads up on the boys true identity’s. Quietly going over the inked lettering bit by but until they’ve remembered everything. Even about the four higher-ups above, the court of four Kings with the same names as the regular four Kings. though reader just refers to the court of four Kings as the peepaws for a bit of comedy relief.

- Raphael : prince of the trolls, giants, often a brute to those who cross him. Steals soft blankets, plush toys and just anything he deems worthy to add to his space of comfort. His den of blankets and nest of comforts. Never cross him, steal what’s his or mess with his brothers unless you want to be brutally beaten to death by a mutant with the strength of a giant. He was the one to take old plushies, pillows, blankets from your home Before your began setting up protective charms

- Leonardo and Donatello : princes of the goblins, hobgoblins and boggarts. A dangerous duo, both together and separated they are cunning. Donnie is calculating and clever, no one has yet to match his genius and will torture those who don’t give him offerings of precious metals of human gadgets. Leonardo is a charming almost smug fae, he’s clever and manipulative to a fault with expensive tastes, he has his ways of getting what he wants and torture is one of them, though his preferred method is illusion and mind games. Leaving old consoles or expensive items outside your house and they’re quickly snatched up by the pair or their people

- Finally there is Michelangelo : princes of the fairies, pixies, brownies and smaller fae who use their creativity and affection to lure their victims. A tad bit spoiled despite his sweet and bubbly demeanor. He will throw a fit for the ages when he doesn’t get what he wants. Appease him with sweets and art supplies if you must. However his sweetness is only reserved for those he wants to reserve it for……I’m not going to say what his methods of disposing of victims are, let’s just say it’s too traumatic for the minds of mankind

It’s suffice to say, a lot of readers items go missing. Got a painting or art supply you left in sight of the window? Suddenly it’s plastered all over Mikey’s own nest. Jewelry that’s broken? Patched up and apart of each of the boys attire. Although important items to reader that they care a lot about are always returned before the end of the day

mayhem usually takes trips outside to find it. Stealing it right from under the boys noses and scampering back to readers house with stolen goods in their jaws.

Occasionally readers neighbor April pops on by to help out. She’s nice….something feels off but she’s nice nonetheless. Though the protective fae circle is slightly crooked in some spots after she leaves.

But once reader is prepared to deal with the boys, they start sitting out on their porch at night. Humming a random tune to their favorite song and quietly making satchets to hang in the doorways. Leaving offerings for smaller fae just outside of the circle. Making sure to make eye contact with any of the bois if they decide to come closer from the treeline.

And they do. They’re head over heels for this person. So of course they would approach, Each ones words Filled with nothing but loving compliments and promises to make reader their partner. To have them rule by their side over their domain.

They live gifts outside the circle, making sure reader sees each of them doing it. they grin and blow kisses, stalking around the circle

That is until they see one of their brothers. It either ends in them having a stare off and duke it out. They’d politely sabotage each other’s gift. Larger gifts over shadowing smaller ones. Making their gifts more eye catching to reader.

sometimes, reader will occasionally tease them back. Saying that it wouldn’t be too bad if they went with one of them on certain conditions. Which practically redoubles the boys efforts to woo their new potential partner. All the while reader goes into sage the house with mayhem glaring at the turtles from the front porch steps.

And each of the boys subjects defiantly do their best to try and help out their king.

Trolls and larger fae sent to help repair readers house

Goblins, and boggarts sent to fetch reader new clothes, expensive objects or things reader likes

Pixies, fairies and brownies to finish house chores, redecorate and replenish the home

All of whom are attempting to convince and argue reader should marry their prince. How their prince would be the perfect husband, how the other fae would love to help reader get settled into their new home in the forest, ect.

Just when reader thinks it couldn’t be more crazy. That’s when they finally catch the eyes of the four kings, previous princes now grown. (Aka the future turtles)

Much more powerful than the princess and certainly more menacing. Handsome, Bigger, more decked out in lavish clothes and jewelry, and covered in scars From fights and other events in their long lives.

Their colors may be a bit more faded than their younger counterparts but they make up for it in sheer presence.

Each one of them absolutely adore reader and are delighted the empty throne by their side will be filled with a loving partner to share their lives with and spoil. Perhaps, just potentially, that nursery in that beautiful sunny spot in the woods could be filled with the soft cries and giggles of an heir they Could care for with tenderness and love.

Now, reader must deal with eight admirers, all of which have tricks of their sleeves.

Much more expensive gifts and even more gestures of goodwill…..

Including leaving young Casey, king Leonardo’s son, in the care of reader. The young boy left on readers porch and convinced this was his new parent he was supposed to bring back home to his family.

Reader almost fell for the whole ‘my dad’s hurt in the woods’ trick, if it wasn’t for the fact mayhem and the chickens kept staring out into the treeline. Watching Leonardo smirking from the shadows with anticipation.

So, reader trusts their gut, and just decides to take the little toddler in and raise them as their own. Feeds him, reads him stories, lullaby’s, plays with him. Ect.

However reader has to constantly remind him not to remove the new protections on the cottage. Though the boy always breaks down in tears and reader always tells him it’s okay and not to do it again. Though when his parent is asleep, he speaks to his fathers and uncles about why his ‘parent’ won’t come home with them and what was he doing wrong.

Eventually, since the peepaws can break through the barriers, reader must go off into the woods to get some random flowers for a wreath they were making. Taking Casey on a small trek into the woods just when the satchets finally wear off.

Giggling and whispers can be heard beckoning reader to the woods over the sound of Casey going on about how happy he was to finally be with his parent, ect.

In the blink of an eye and before mayhem can reach them, reader is whisked off by one of the turtles. Never to be seen again.

Waking up in one of the eights domains of with one of the turtles snuggled up to them. Murmuring about they’ll be so happy there with them, and how they’ll shower them with love and gifts so they can never leave.

Escaping them will be difficult, and after the impromptu wedding. Reader must play the part until the opportunity to escape and rid themselves of the immortality they’ve been granted.

But be warned

They will hunt you down once you do

And you better hope you can make it out of town before they do find you

#yandere donnie #yandere leonardo #yandere raphael #yandere michelangelo #yandere rottmnt #yandere future Leonardo #yandere future Donatello #yandere future Raphael #yandere future Michelangelo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt au #fae au #rottmnt #tmnt headcanons #headcanon

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raayllum · 2 months

Text

Because @kradogsrats got me thinking about it with their Harrow and Pip and Viren meta so now I'm throwing in two adjacently related cents

The first is that there is absolutely a fucking Premonition going on with dreams in the show (specifically Viren and Callum's dark magic dreams as well as Janai's nightmare) which only makes sense because all of these are 1) connected to Aaravos and subsequently star magic, and 2) dark magic which loops right back around to Aaravos

There are multiple times that images and ideas are relayed to characters who would have no way of knowing these things in the present

For example, Viren is surprised and asks Kpp'Ar about his arm, even when we know that Viren was the last person to see Kpp'Ar before he got coined, and presumably would've already been hurt / Viren would've been aware it had happened. But that doesn't seem to be the case given the dialogue

This also means that the answer Kpp'Ar gives either has to be not truthful and purely something Viren concocted (about something he didn't know had happened), which wouldn't make sense from a character or an audience standpoint, because in an episode titled "Old Wounds" we're going to remember the one visible wound we see on screen. So if the wounds are real and Kpp'Ar is truthful, there's some wonky magic knowledge time space stuff going on (which does sound like Star and adjacent dark magic to me)

We see this again with Janai's dreams concerning Khessa evolving past the point of a reoccurring nightmare to one that actually gives her, again, what we're supposed to assume is the Truth, even though Janai was leagues away from Aaravos (although she did hear his voice) and the lack of discerning his whisper wouldn't suddenly go away for no reason

And we Know there's some overlap between the dark magic dreams and the current reality happening outside the dreams, considering Viren's material reality in 5x02-5x03 directly informs his dreaming reality ("You keep moving" -> "We have to keep moving" as one example)

Most notably with the flower, Claudia begins discarding it in the dream before she drops it in real life, with Claudia receiving the flower in real life before it appears with her in the dream. So the interplay is not consistent moving in one direction solely to the other, but very much does exist

We even see this noticeably (upon rewatches) with Callum's dark magic dreams featuring foreshadowing for future seasons. Not only does having the Key represent dark magic in the dream make extra sense because it is connected to Aaravos, who is also connected to dark magic of course, it likewise has the Ocean rune on display in particular, hinting at things that haven't yet come to pass, but things that very much will

Why does this matter? Well... when Harrow does show up in Callum's dark magic dream, he is notably chained down

Or, y'know, caged like a bird

Now, this could just be because TDP likes its poignant but hella on the nose symbolism on a regular basis. It likes to use a variety of symbols concerning freedom, with a multitude of metaphors just in this episode alone: navigating a storm and steering a sheep; keys and chains; the key; and verbally, books to go along with the idea of fate and destiny being "written" or being rewritten by yourself. And I'm willing to bet that that's Most of it

But also... the Claudia with the flower, Kpp'Ar with his arm, the cube with the Ocean rune, and all that stuff... alongside how blithering little we know about Star magic at the present. Hopefully "Dreamer's Nightmare," which focuses the princes and a town beset by horrible nightmares pre-series and set to come out early August 2024, could give some answers if S6 hasn't dropped by then

Regardless leads me to my second thing regarding what actually happened in that goddamn kindly bedroom between Harrow and Viren (innuendo half intended)

I think Harrow's soul got split

The main reason this makes sense to me is twofold on a plot level and then there's 1-2 things thematically, but let's talk about the most concrete stuff first

1) There is a significant chunk of time between the last possible chance Viren could've done the spell and when we see the binding actually fall

Now to be fair, there's a delay between Runaan's binding falling off and Rayla's (because story constraints) but it's worth noting that as Runaan makes his way to the balcony, only then does it begin to loosen. He's left the room and (rightly) assumed his job is done probably because he knew he was growing weak and still needed to send the arrow, but it's clearly something that gave Harrow a bit of time to like, Live. If Harrow had fully died earlier than that in some capacity, the bindings would have fallen off ahead of time, so Runaan did something and we know (thanks to the Flowers) that Moonshadow elves can enchant objects tied to souls, not bodies, even if other people can be fooled by their appearances

So although the novelization and the show indicate that Viren did something shady as hell ("If Viren wanted to defy his former friend one last time, he'd have to do it tonight"), it isn't something that could've fully killed Harrow at that time

Hence the split. As Kradogsrats pointed out, the Soulfang serpent spell is something that due to the unique nature of the specimen as well as it's not exactly something you can practice (S4 even emphasizes how specific ingredients have to be sometimes in order for a spell to work correctly as well as multiple TDP short stories showing what can go wrong if you lose concentration) it was something that could've gone so wrong so easily.

Some of his soul had to have stayed in his body (but possibly left Harrow momentarily unconscious). Maybe Viren thought he had failed and killed him, and that would explain why he does nothing in the hallway while the assassins are attacking (he seems to kind of know but not fully get what Runaan's binding means in 1x08), although he does seem to have a hint of reservation about Callum being there in the hallway, which wouldn't make sense if he was sure that Harrow was dead, because then who was gonna give a shit that Callum was there?

Another part of his soul could've gone in the bird, as the Soulfang was in the room and so was Pip (quite prominently displayed). Viren at least attempting the spell and it being partially successful would explain why dream!Harrow imprisons him further (after all, why not let it be Kpp'Ar, who literally got coined?) in addition to Pip. Harrow has Runaan's arrow in him during the imprisonment scene as well, so it seems likely that both Viren and Runaan had an equal hand in ruining Harrow's body on that level

The main reason I can see there being at least a partial piece of Harrow's soul in Pip is well

2) Runaan and Ezran

Even if we disregard the thematic irony of Harrow being trapped in the physical symbol of freedom (a bird), there is the fact that Ezran being able to talk to animals is like... the biggest tell that something is coming around with this goddamn bird.

Like Ezran's ability to talk to animals thus far has not had a lot of plot relevance, okay, outside of season one. Like him with Ava and the spider is the last time it's directly core relevant in ways that would be hard to get around. Like his bond with Zym could exist regardless as well as seeing through his eyes. Even if being able to talk to animals absolutely helped set that up, it's not necessary for Ezran to have the communication ability per se to have what he has with Zym, and thus far even as more animals have been introduced (most notably Stella) it hasn't really come into play.

The main reason to give Ezran an ability like this is so that he can talk to Pip. The main reason to remove Pip from the castle as of S2 is because - even in the original plans where Ezran didn't go home in 2x09, he would still would have off screen after S3 and inevitably run into Pip. So there's clearly something with the bird that will become evident upon him interacting with Ezran, hence why they've been separated.

At the same time, I don't think Harrow can wholly be in the bird just because that removes some of Runaan's teeth (and Ezran's subsequent potential beef with him) in ways the show just... doesn't do? I always think about how easy it would've been for Harrow to have no knowledge of what Viren had done with the egg/Zym until it was already over (which 1x02 kinda indicates) only for 3x06 to go "No, Harrow was fully conscious and complicit, even if he had reservations and it wasn't his idea." Our mistakes indeed. So I don't think it'd make sense to let Runaan completely off the hook, especially when we just spent two seasons giving Viren an atonement arc and showing that he can grow and change (and it'll be Runaan's turn afterwards -- especially because within the narrative of the show, killing Harrow is the Only Tangibly Bad thing he's really done, so if he's absolved of that than he doesn't really have a point of being here to the same degree).

Continent Split in Two

If Harrow's soul was split in two, not only would reconciling that (aka maybe letting it Leave Pip, the way the Moonshadow troupe and Sarai's breath had to be released) be a way for the boys, particularly Ezran, to get another shot at processing their father's death... It would also reflect the divide of Xadia itself because of dark magic, and how that literal rift metaphorically, magically, and literally, is being healed and mended over.

It would also have an interesting parallel of Claudia (presumably whether Viren lives past s5 or not) having to likewise learn to let her father go and cope/grieve in a healthier manner, and it would mean that Harrow never comes back fully formed (because Ezran has to keep being King, narratively / arc wise) but we finally understand what truly happened to him.

#tdp meta #tdp #the dragon prince #king harrow #so here we are again #analysis series #analysis

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doodle-pops · 8 months

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Tales of the Heart | Part 2

Finarfin x mortal!reader

A/N: I couldn't help but continue this request as a self-written piece. Since we know he's already in ME and fell in love, why not place him in a dilemma.

Warnings: mortality contemplation, flashback

Words: 2.3k

Synopsis: Finarfin finds himself contemplating his future now that his love and duties were entangled.

Part 1 | Part 2

Knock, knock, knock. Three taps to your wooden door and the call of your name made your heart leap. He returned to you as promised.

Wasting no time, you dropped your dough half-heartedly into the pan and rushed to the front, tripping over the rug and steps on the way. Halting just a few footsteps away, you tied your hair and swiped the beads of perspiration down your face. Giving a few fans of cool air to your skin, you cleared your throat and ripped the door off its hinges to again greet his charming and fair face. This was the fifth time you were both seeing each other since your first meeting and Finarfin made it his business to ignore some of his unimportant duties that could cry a few days without him to attend to you.

“Hello.” Your greeting was always short and curt whenever you were meeting him; never able to get more than two words out. It was that silly elven effect you heard from many that they possessed. Lucky to know that you were experiencing it the same way for love.

“Greetings my love.” His voice was never above the howling of the wind, but as sweet as the merry tune of a nightingale. Eyes that held yours made you believe you were swimming in an ocean of blue. Lips that stretched into a grin made you stand on your tippy toes to crane your neck for sweet nectar. And a smile so heavenly that washed away all your worries and doubts.

The whispers of being a mortal and loving an elf had already spread throughout the town. Most villagers were eager to place fear and reminder that you would grow old and wrinkled, and he would no longer find beauty in you. How vacillating was mortal life compared to an elf? Your thoughts were plagued many nights with wondering if his love for you was true and he saw beauty, or if he was lying. But that kiss and smile…it melted your fears and filled you with positivity.

“I come baring gifts for you little bird,” he cheered, though his hands were empty, and nothing was present behind his larger figure.

Your eyes peered around him as best as you could glance for any noticeable trace of an object, but none came into sight. The action urged you to frown and pout, leaving the King chuckling at his lover’s sulky expression. It wasn’t every day Finarfin got to experience the array of emotions that mortals, even you, displayed. All he was familiar with were rage, fear, guilt, happiness and despair. The others expressed entirely differently from elves was an eye-opener for him. More the merrier as he would claim it to be.

Stepping backwards and ushering him into your house, you still marvelled today at the difference between him and your doorframe. Bending his poor back to enter a confined spacing, he had never made it his business to complain. You gathered that he understood the differences in living between elves and men.

“What gifts have you come bearing my love? I see no cloth or item in your hand,” you deliberated, roaming your eyes over his figure in case you missed something sticking out. To your disappointment, there was none.

“I believe you would be surprised to learn that your gift…is me!” he exclaimed with a cheeky wink. It felt unnatural for him to display himself so flirtatious when he was reserved and poised in swooning someone. He was never one for the youthful take on courting and showing affection since he was raised to act properly and above what was considered acceptable. All these rule-breaking would make his father and mother cast an eye at him while shouting his name.

You were turning him into a young ellon all over again. That he understood and accepted wholeheartedly.

Rolling your eyes at his antics, you smiled and walked over to him, allowing your smaller figure to become engulfed completely by the cluster of his robes, cloak and body. “You are so very childish at times Arafinwe…I love that about you,” you praised. “Most people spoke about the elves being stern and serious, only a few were described as light and cheerful.”

“Ah, perhaps the latter was my eldest and a few of his closer cousins,” he replied sorrowfully. He still was not over hearing how his family lost their lives all the way down to the last battle. At the same time, he was hesitant to reveal he was married and bore children; not many were willing to accept being with someone who was engaged before. It wasn’t familiar in elven society but heard of among the men.

Pulling away from him, you looked up and gently smiled, noticing the shift in his mood. “Well, your eldest had to get it from someone…like his handsome and cheerful father!”

Walking away and over to the kitchen to refocus on your unattended dough, he followed closely behind, stewing over words to return. A silence had fallen between you both and he used it to bubble over his next words. Glancing at you kneading the dough to the empty fireplace to the troughs that held your kitchen garden, he chewed his bottom lip. Your home was cosy as you fought to make it comfortable. Even though it was sufficient for one bedroom, kitchen, living and dining room and a porch, it was your patch of paradise. He knew that, but would you be willing to leave it behind.

“I am returning home.”

It was over a month since he broke your heart with those words, heartstrings tugging and begging to snap with every reminiscence of the scene. You hadn’t seen him since that day he came to your door and broke the sorrowful news. He stuck around to ensure you were well informed, but even the great King knew how grave his words were and how deep they had cut. You were left with invisible wounds to the human eyes, but open to the one who loved and sang his soul to you the most every night. The joyous look in his eyes, when those words left his lips, was replaced immediately with regret when he witnessed your status figure halting by the counter.

You weren’t pleased.

Finarfin didn’t truly know how to feel after that incident; even his mind haunted him day and night with memories of your teary eyes. Tossing left and right each night in his room he was kindly gifted by the Gil Galad; he would hold his head and wonder if falling in love with you, a mortal, was his mistake for the agony he was causing. The last time he ever loved, his heart was shattered by the actions of family and the crown, and now the crown was repeating the same heartache. The chance to love again beckoned to him like the earth held the moon; he hadn’t the strength to let go of the opportunity the Valar presented to him. A way of them making up for the problem they and his family caused. But it was still an issue and not a simple blessing; how half-hearted of them to cast a blank canvas and have him figure it all out.

He wanted to paint a picture of his future and yet they gave him no paint.

Sitting on the edge of your bed like a silent whisper of night, Finarfin's hands were curled into his lap like a child the longer he observed your peaceful state. The soft rise and fall of your chest, the twitching of your lips and eyes and the flutter of your lashes, how odd were you as a race of beings weaker than his but more fascinating than anything. He loved to observe you in your slumbering state; too many times he had often wondered where you went when you closed your eyes, wanting to follow you into the astral realm. His brows would frown whenever he attempted to evade your mind the moment you shut your eyes and slipped into your sleep.

Now, it was the most beautiful state of peace he has ever witnessed.

Roaming his eyes over your figure once more, he reached out to ghost his fingers over your cheeks and brush your hair out of your eye. The windows were opened to allow small gusts of wind to breathe the midnight ambience into your chambers. It helped his mind to wander the more he gazed at you, contemplating his future. You were a breath of fresh air after years of loneliness, too angelic to slip through his fingers without a fight. The idea of leaving you behind while he returned to Araman while you remained here, alone and with a broken heart, to wither and die without him at your side, made him choke on a sob.

Was he the moth that was drawn to the flame or were it you? He couldn’t live without you any longer.

Faith and destiny were two of the cruellest entities he had ever discovered and had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting. They thrust unwanted burdens into his heart and left him to suffer, a crown for emptiness. Now that the void could be refilled, it was at a time when the crown mattered. But I could do it. Give up the Crown and have the Valar choose Ingwё to govern; he would obey Lord Manwё’s decree without opposition. I could stay here, even if it was fifty years, I could stay. Would they let me return or deem my act as defiance, rebellion even? If it didn’t meet their wishes, everything was a crime in their eyes, but I could also…

His thoughts were abruptly cut at the suddenness of your body rolling to face him. The air in his lungs halted at the sight of the moonlight slipping through the thin sheer curtains and shining on your ethereal form. Finarfin's hands couldn’t help but brush your cheeks while his face grew warmer as you shuffled close to his touch. Your body was familiar with his scent and presence, you were craving him…missing him. The consciousness made his fёa tremble.

The things he’d do for love. They say love is dangerous, love is powerful, love drives the sanest person crazy, love makes you touch the sky and soar the heavens, love makes you do the impossible. Love was making him rethink all his purpose and duties.

The fire you rekindled within him was an imperishable flame now that the beacon was relit. He dared not allow himself to be parted from your side no matter the consequences he could face. Should his flame be doused, his world would crumble, slipping under his feet and plummeting into the abyss. Second chances didn’t come around often, especially when elves loved once, this was a miracle and a sick twisted gameplay he couldn’t afford to lose. What were the chances of snatching you into his arms and boarding his ship to depart to Valinor this instant? You would hate him for taking you away from his family.

“Would you hate me if I begged you to come with me? I am a lonely elf living in a palace like a masquerade,” he breathed wearily. His soul was growing tired from all the constant back-and-forth run-around. “I can do with someone to keep me grounded…you’d be perfect.”

Running the back of his knuckles along your cheeks, he softly smiled when you sighed and nuzzled subconsciously into his warmth. He had been here for years, slowly fading into the regular routine of his fellow elves who adapted to the changes of Middle Earth, no longer under the watchful gazes of the Valar to scold. It felt refreshing to be diverse, with no one to bark at him for any unethical and unprofessional demeanours. He knew if he took you overseas, you would face the harsh end of the stick for poor etiquette, setting you up for discrimination.

You are the High King Arafinwё, you could arrive at a peaceful conclusion.

“But what if I stayed with you…forever. What if I followed like her, the elven maiden who gave her life for her mortal lover, would you still accept me as I am? Mortality,” he brokenly whispered and clutched his chest, “it sounds painful, but I’d get to be with you forever. You’ll never slip through my fingers.” Dragging his eyes away from your face and roaming them around the room, they focused on nothing as they circumnavigated the tight enclosure.

How capricious was mortality? Today you existed, tomorrow you perished and vanished into the world beyond the outer doors. He didn’t want to suffer like his son did or undoubtedly was, but his opportunity was laid before him like a golden road with hundreds of signs. The only obstruction was his path to walk with you. He snickered. It was always he who walked the mystifying paths in life and suffering was all that he was guaranteed to know.

“Would the Valar grant you immortality likewise the opposite for me? They say I am important, but I’ve never felt so until I met you. I’ve only been at their convenience…at everyone’s convenience actually.” Shuffling his position to gracefully lie on his side and face you, he paused to marvel at the love he found. His right hand reached out once more to cup your face and rub his thumb against the softness. As a mortal, you had such remarkable and unfathomable beauty. “I’m sure they can forgive me for the decision I will make, they always do.”

When the sun rose and the ship sailed, his decision would be made.

Masterlist | Underrated Character Event Masterlist |

Taglist: @eunoiaastralwings @noldorinpainter @ranhanabi777 @lilmelily @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @singleteapot @the-phantom-of-arda @rain-on-my-umbrella @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @stormchaser819 @wisheduponastar @floragardeniahope

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daisychainsandbowties · 1 month

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Lilith in N7 armor, though…

It may or may not surprise you to know that I actually have a whole mass effect au planned out in my head. I just…. Yeah. Ava Silva and the weight of the world on her shoulders. Ava Silva giving exclusive sponsorship to every single tech and weapons shop on the Citadel. Ava Silva with her aquarium and her pet hamster and a shadow longer than her life.

Ava Silva, waking up to fire in the sky above Mindoir. Ships blotting out the sky and the trees a smear of sound and heat and light outside her window. It’s enough to make them burst inward, waking her in time to save her life.

Boots in the hall of their little house and her mother running inside the room, pushing the dresser she made out of this planet up against the door they brought with them from the stars. Ava doesn’t know anything but this place – the grass crunchy in winter and the flowers in spring and the leaves in autumn and all the sunsets in summer.

Her mother has old scars on her hands and an old rifle she keeps under her bed and an old set of armour she wears now. It’s broken open across her chest and the gauntlets are cracked, falling onto the wood floor as she looks for Ava, finds her by the window in a halo of broken glass.

It’s weird, too see her smiling and bleeding at the same time.

There’s a second red heart on her chest, and when she speaks she leaves blood spatter on Ava’s forearms. Clutches at her so tightly that Ava is certain she could never let her go, but then she’s smoothing Ava’s hair off her face, tucking strands behind her ear.

She carries Ava to the window – she’s nine, too big for carrying and she squirms but her mother’s grip is iron. The grass is still wet from overnight rain, somehow, even backlit as they both are by fire. The shape of tall trees in her mother’s eyes which are just the same colour as hers. Brown like earth.

The door to Ava’s bedroom splinters and the last thing Ava hears as she’s pushed onto her back – out of sight and out of reach – is her mother telling her to run. This she knows how to do, running laps around the track at school while the other kids are still stretching out their legs. She knows how to do it alone in the woods around their house or down toward the lake, pretending to chase birds or her own shadow.

Ava, running and always, forever after this, running. Away from town, from home, with an old Alliance beacon in her hand, blinking like a red eye against her palm.

They’ll find you, she’d whispered, pressing it wet into Ava’s small hand, and they did.

When the Alliance come they find Ava. Just her. They ask her questions but all she can tell them about is fire, and sitting in the old cabin by the lake, underneath the floorboards with bugs the size of her hands crawling in the dirt around her. Staring at the beacon until she slept again. Woke again. Slept again.

Ten years later she’s on Akuze and everyone she trained with is dead around her. She’s fresh out of basic training and her armour belonged to someone else before her, ill-fitting at the shoulders and the hips. Her greaves rattle when she walks, and everyone teases her about it and then she’s running past pieces of them.

The creature responsible bleeds so much when it dies, and its insides burn where they touch Ava’s skin. When they find her, she’s carrying a fistful of dog tags, spends a week in a medi-gel bath regrowing a fifth of her skin. They recruit her straight into the N7 program, and some nights, sitting in various drop-ships eating expired ration bars, or gunning down mercs, she wonders if her mother would recognise her anymore. They were supposed to be farmers.

Then Eden Prime, the beacon and a Turian called Adriel who wants to bring about the end of the world. She meets an odd archaeologist on a lonely dig site and her name is Beatrice. A sniper on the Citadel called Shannon, who likes to wear blue. Their pilot, Mary, has a knack for pissing everyone off and a soft spot for Ava.

She sits in the mess late at night, when the ship’s circadian lights make everything dim and secret, drinking coffee with too much creamer and listening to Beatrice talk about the Protheans.

It's the wrong time to fall in love.

They win, eventually, and Ava is quietly side-lined for saying too much, too loudly about the Reapers, who want to come down from the sky and burn everything, like the slavers burned her home once upon a time.

And then she dies.

Her body, burned by the mouth of a planet upon re-entry, finds its way into the hands of a shadow organisation called Cerberus, who call her Lazarus and bring her back from the dead. She wakes up full of hairline fractures, her face trying to break open, bleeding red light like her once-small fingers, like running away again and waking up to flashlights, strange voices. Everything about life is circular.

She wakes in the hands of a girl with designer blood and bones not quite as handmade as Ava’s, but close. Her name is Lilith, and the first thing she tells Ava is that the galaxy hasn’t run out of ways to use her just yet.

#mass effect au #warrior nun #avatrice #anon #i would probably set the au during the ME2 era just because... that's when things really get going #and also. sexier #but anyway sadly Lilith isn't N7 but she definitely ends up wearing that armour at some point ^_^#because you're right. it would look hmmmmmmmm #also bkdljdkslkd she would NOT wear miri's armour like babe i love u but that is not OSHA approved. they are shooting at you #anyway what is this? no idea

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anitabighug · 1 year

Text

❥ A Perfect Experiment : Wally x Reader (She/Her Pronouns, Named) ✿

Chapter Masterpost: [ ♡ ♡ ♡ ] Chapter Eleven; Obligatory Beach Episode

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Today is the big day. Julie shoots up in bed, the ribbons and lace of her bedsheet set flying everywhere. It's today. She bounces on the balls of her feet as she packs the essentials into a bright yellow duffel bag. Its today! She shovels cereal into her mouth so fast she gets the hiccups. “TODAYS THE DAY!!!” Julie screams out to the neighbourhood after flinging her door wide open. You can almost hear a collective groan from the sleepy residents. Yes, today is the day. But it is also five in the morning, Julie. You sit up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes… You can practically hear Julie slamming knocks onto Frank’s door from your bed. You take a quick look down at your sheets. You don’t quite remember how you got back to your bed last night, but it’s hard to ignore the way that your blankets were laid out one on top of the other, and how precisely you’d been tucked in. You wiggle a little in delight, enjoying the gesture for a moment longer before you finally get up. Julie wasn’t going to stop her assault anytime soon, and you did in fact need to get ready for the day. “Sunscreen, check. Sun hat, check,” You pat the hat on your head as you go over your checklist, Julie vibrating away in your doorway, groaning a ‘come onnnnn hurry uuuuup!’ “Please, Julie, a well prepared list is crucial when it comes to enjoying a trip.” You tell her, and the exhausted Frank on the other side of the doorway gives a knowing nod. “I mean, if I didn’t have this, I might forget the juice mix, or the radio, or even my swimsuit!” He continues to nod until the last one, where his eyes shoot open. He takes a deep breath, then turns back towards his own home, stomping off. Julie calls after him, but hes digging away in his bag already to find the suit he no doubt forgot at home. You giggle, setting your radio down on top of your load, “See? Like that! We can’t rush these things, Julie!” You finally check the last thing off your list, and Julie zooms past you, grabbing items in a frenzy and taking them outside to add to the growing pile on the pair of wagons the group was bringing with them on the walk. You certainly were surprised to hear there was a lake around here, and you couldn’t wait to take a few samples and squirrel them away in the cooler to bring home. You were even more surprised to hear that the post office and bodega were closing for beach day; though you supposed with no one else in town it would be an awfully boring day for the two of them anyways. You’d taken so long that at this point the other residents were starting to gather. Howdy had brought breakfast for everyone, along with a ginormous cooler he was dragging along behind him on the wheels. Eddie was carrying the bag for a tent on his back, along with a grocery bag full of marshmallows and firemaking supplies. It was obvious he was most excited for the camping and hiking aspect of the trip. The others trickled in slowly, either adding their items to the wagons or holding it themselves. Barnaby shows up last, already in his swimsuit, with his luggage being an impressive looking water gun strapped on his back. He lets out a loud, rumbling yawn, and starts to pull one of the wagons towards the forest. Julie lets out an excited squeal, and grabs the handle of the other wagon, starting to pull. It doesn’t budge, but she keeps pulling. You laugh and head up behind it, pushing it with her before she pops a joint. You take the opportunity to reach forwards, and flick your radio on, the batteries whirring it to life. [♫] Stuck - Caro Emerald “Stay close, it’s easy to get lost,” You hear Wally tell you idly as he strolls past you to walk with Barnaby. “Easy? Try guaranteed!” Poppy whines, trailing along at the back of the group to make sure no one gets separated, the bird on high alert. You can see why pretty quickly; within moments of being in the forest, you can no longer see the neighbourhood. It’s a little dim under the blanket of leaves, but the bouncy tunes from your radio keep the mood high as the group wanders deeper and deeper. It definitely didn’t look this thick from the outside, but such was the majesty of nature. You can hear Frank pointing out flora along the way, and what kinds of butterflies used it and in what ways. He’s strolling along somewhere in the middle of the group, Eddie holding his hand and leading him with the group so he doesn’t get distracted. It seemed like everyone was relying on the buddy system, thankfully. It took an hour or so to get through the woods, minus a short snack break in the middle where you split a peanut butter and jelly with Julie. Everyone starts to get excited out of nowhere, and you look up from your wagon pushing to see it finally coming into view. The lake isn’t huge; barely bigger than a pond, but nice and private and more than big enough for the group that had been brought. The side closest to you has a sand beach, with a fire pit right in front of you that had barely ever been used. The far side is lined with rocks and pebbles, and has a long pier with old lifeguard equipment still hanging off of. Julie lets out a squeal, and drops the pulley. Luckily, Poppy catches her and scoops her up before she can go jumping into the water in her street clothes. You help her gather the bags, and the girl’s group head into– what you assume are– the nearby bathrooms. There isn’t really much signage, but the inside is surprisingly clean and the light still works. You’re thankful that you can at least see while you change, and while Julie ties your hair up to keep it out of your face. She tries a few different styles before settling on just the right spot, high and tilted just so off to the side. The boys are ready by the time you leave the restrooms, and are already setting up home base. You hurry to Eddie’s side, gently lifting the instructions for setting up the tent out of his hand and flipping it over. He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, and the two of you hurry to decipher the glyphs and set up the tent. Julie and Sally are blowing up floaties nearby, and are trying to land them over Frank’s head every time they finish one of the coloured rings. He continues to struggle with some sort of butterfly float, head whirling around to glare at the girls every time they manage to get one over him. You laugh to yourself, and turn back to Eddie as he clicks the last bar in place, and the two of you drape and pin the tent with ease. “Team work!” You exclaim, and Eddie holds out his hand for a high five, which you graciously accept. “Makes the dream work!” He finishes, and laughs heartily. You’re interrupted by a shrill whistle, and you stand at attention. What… Was that? Poppy ushers the rest of your friends to your side, setting you in line. Oh, safety lesson, right. She goes on a tirade, walking past each of you and telling you the dangers of UV, and squirting a giant puddle of sunscreen in each of your hands. She gets to Barnaby, who winces a little at the idea of getting sunscreen in his fur. When she insists, He shrugs, and lifts the person next to him in the air. This happens to be you, and you yelp in surprise. “‘Nuff ‘a this! Beach time!” He yells, running towards the water and tossing you in, shrieking all the way. Julie cheers, slapping what remained of her sunscreen left on her cheek and running after the pair of you. With a loud splash, beach day was officially open, and the festivities began. [♫] Doped Up Dollies on a One Way Ticket To Blood - Big D and the Kids Table ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● It was always so nice to see his friends having fun together. Wally strolled back to the towels and umbrellas that had been set up, humming all the way, and took the seat he’d probably be enjoying all day. It was difficult to have a whole new place like this, but the fact that he didn’t have to keep up the usual facade was helping a lot. Though he did wish Home could join them for this, it would love to watch some of these antics. He’d have to make it up to it somehow. He couldn’t feel too bad, however, as he took the time to enjoy the view himself. You’d finally pulled yourself out of the deep water, absolutely sopping wet at this point, and resigned yourself to discard your usual coverup on the shore, leaving you only in your frilly one piece. You could’ve ignored this, if you didn’t immediately catch Wally ogling you, a big smirk on his face, his head resting on one of his hands. You feel your cheeks get hot, but luckily justice is served quickly. Barnaby lifts the package up, and drops it without even hesitating. The water balloon explodes in dramatic fashion right over Wally’s unsuspecting head. And he looks FURIOUS. He turns his head without moving his pupils until his eyes meet Barnaby’s. His perfect hair was ruined, wet clumps sticking to his cheeks, half of his face practically covered. You and Barnaby are in stitches. He slowly stands, and cracks his knuckles, “I’m sure you know… This means war.” … Barnaby sprays him in the face with his soaker, and then books it to hurry out of the range of his fury. Wally digs around in the luggage until he finds a suitable weapon; a second water gun, smaller, but it would do. He gets some of the bags pretty wet in the process, and then stomps over to the edge of the water to fill the gun. You laugh under your breath, and wander over to steal the spot he’d left free with his antics, already ready to dry off. You’d sit this one out, thank you. Well, at least you hoped you would. Just as you start to get dry, you are suddenly absolutely drenched. Barnaby is behind you, losing his mind, and in front of you is a very shocked looking Wally, water gun pointed directly at you. It seemed that in the excitement, You’d been used as a shield. “... Wally.” “... I am. so. sorry.” You turn back to look at Barnaby. He lifts up a balloon to tempt you with the forbidden fruit. You hold out your hand for it. Wally is running as fast as he can to escape now, letting out a shrill scream, and you are in hot pursuit. His puppet butt was going to be yours whether he wanted it or not. Soon, you’ve cornered him, standing in front of one of the larger rocks at the far end of the lake. “Any last words, Wally Darling?” You ask darkly, rolling the balloon between your hands. “... Truce?” “And just what is in it for me? Hmm?” You examine him closely. His cheeks flush, and he lets out a slight whimper. “Anything. My eternal gratitude. My life. Anything.” He pleads. You let out a tiny sigh. You just can’t resist those eyes, something in his begging is warming your frozen heart. How did Barnaby get up there? He lifts the water balloon above his head. This one is super sized; threatening to break already in his hands, and aimed for a direct hit at Wally’s head. You react without thinking, calling out his name and shoving him out of the way. He hits the ground, and the balloon hits you square in the face. You hear Barnaby going ‘aw, what?’ at the betrayal, starting to climb down from his perch. “... Daisy…” Wally is breathless, staring up at you. He didn’t think you’d ever looked so beautiful. He stood up, “... You just saved my life. You’re… my hero.” He is SO dramatic. You wipe the water from your eyes, coughing and sputtering a little. He hurries forwards, scooping you into a hug and pressing dozens of kisses across your cheek. You try to protest, try to squirm out of his grip. “Wally– Wait– Get a grip– We gotta run–” Its too late. Barnaby lifts his soaker, and drenches the both of you. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “Gross. Get a room, you two.” With that, Barnaby leaves you two alone, setting his sights on someone else to annoy. It seemed to be Frank from the screaming you can soon hear. Wally is leaning his whole body weight against you, still whimpering pathetically about his hair. You roll your eyes, and reach up, brushing the locks from his eyes, “Oh, calm down. You look adorable.” “... Do you really think so?” “You always look adorable, Wally. This isn’t flirting, Its scientifically proven. We did a poll and everything.” You muse. He finally cracks, starting to laugh under his breath, pressing his forehead against yours.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●

@elegantkidfansoul @itsyoboysparkel

#wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home fic

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officialyourdailyinspiration · 24 days

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The Proverbs of Solomon

1 The wise sayings of Solomon, the son of David, king of Israel. 2 To have knowledge of wise teaching; to be clear about the words of reason: 3 To be trained in the ways of wisdom, in righteousness and judging truly and straight behaviour: 4 To make the simple-minded sharp, and to give the young man knowledge, and serious purpose: 5 (The wise man, hearing, will get greater learning, and the acts of the man of good sense will be wisely guided:) 6 To get the sense of wise sayings and secrets, and of the words of the wise and their dark sayings. 7 The fear of the Lord is the start of knowledge: but the foolish have no use for wisdom and teaching.

Advice to a Son

8 My son, give ear to the training of your father, and do not give up the teaching of your mother: 9 For they will be a crown of grace for your head, and chain-ornaments about your neck. 10 My son, if sinners would take you out of the right way, do not go with them. 11 If they say, Come with us; let us make designs against the good, waiting secretly for the upright, without cause; 12 Let us overcome them living, like the underworld, and in their strength, as those who go down to death; 13 Goods of great price will be ours, our houses will be full of wealth; 14 Take your chance with us, and we will all have one money-bag: 15 My son, do not go with them; keep your feet from their ways: 16 For their feet are running after evil, and they are quick to take a man's life. 17 Truly, to no purpose is the net stretched out before the eyes of the bird: 18 And they are secretly waiting for their blood and making ready destruction for themselves. 19 Such is the fate of everyone who goes in search of profit; it takes away the life of its owners.

The Good Woman—Wisdom

20 Wisdom is crying out in the street; her voice is loud in the open places; 21 Her words are sounding in the meeting-places, and in the doorways of the town: 22 How long, you simple ones, will foolish things be dear to you? and pride a delight to the haters of authority? how long will the foolish go on hating knowledge? 23 Be turned again by my sharp words: see, I will send the flow of my spirit on you, and make my words clear to you. 24 Because your ears were shut to my voice; no one gave attention to my out-stretched hand; 25 You were not controlled by my guiding, and would have nothing to do with my sharp words: 26 So in the day of your trouble I will be laughing; I will make sport of your fear; 27 When your fear comes on you like a storm, and your trouble like a rushing wind; when pain and sorrow come on you. 28 Then I will give no answer to their cries; searching for me early, they will not see me: 29 For they were haters of knowledge, and did not give their hearts to the fear of the Lord: 30 They had no desire for my teaching, and my words of protest were as nothing to them. 31 So the fruit of their way will be their food, and with the designs of their hearts they will be made full. 32 For the turning back of the simple from teaching will be the cause of their death, and the peace of the foolish will be their destruction. 33 But whoever gives ear to me will take his rest safely, living in peace without fear of evil. — Proverbs 1 | Bible in Basic English (BBE) The Bible in Basic English is in the public domain. Cross References: Genesis 41:42; Numbers 12:8; Deuteronomy 4:6; Deuteronomy 21:18; Deuteronomy 28:63; 1 Samuel 19:10; 1 Kings 4:32; Job 4:8; Job 21:14; Job 27:9; Psalm 1:1; Psalm 10:8; Psalm 25:12-13; Psalm 28:1; Psalm 81:11; Psalm 116:6; Proverbs 2:1; Proverbs 4:1; Proverbs 5:12; Proverbs 5:22; Proverbs 8:1; Proverbs 9:9; Proverbs 15:27; Proverbs 16:19; Luke 7:30; John 7:39; Romans 2:5; Romans 10:21; Ephesians 5:11; James 4:3

#wisdom #son #advice #good woman #Proverbs 1 #Book of Proverbs #Old Testament #BBE #Bible in Basic English

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aloneatpeace · 11 months

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Fall Of Empire

Girl in the Woods ' 1 '

Summary :𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓪 𝓯𝓾𝓷𝓷𝔂 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 . 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓯𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓼 𝓪𝓵𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷 . 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓭𝓮𝓷𝔂 𝓸𝓻 𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓮𝓵𝓯 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓲𝓽 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓼.

Disclaimer - this is pure fan fiction it's not real. I mean no disrespect to any of the members.The stroy is fictional it's doesn't have anything to do with the real life members of bts.

Warning - this chapter doesn't have anything but later we will reach the depth of story and there will. Abuse , degradation of women, sexism, men doing awful things, assault maybe more. (Not by the boys)

A/n : the fic take place as you can tell during mediaeval era or sort of it how would be a life of a girl that time from my perspective. Im not really good at and i don't wanna spoil it so that's it .

WC: 2132

“You are charming, you are everything any women would love to have. You are going to walk up to her and tell her that you like her that’s it.” Hoseok gives himself speech feeling proud of himself, he picks up his bag flung it over his shoulder and march towards where his horse was standing patiently for him.

Upon seeing his companion, the horse let out a happy noise greeting him. Hoseok smile brightly, a contagious smile that made the sun himself feel a little insecure. He pets the horse affectionately.

The sound of footsteps reaches his ear.

hoseok take breath preparing to hear what he heard a thousand times “son, be careful when go there and if the crazy girl tries anything use the weapon”

He turns to his mother “why is it so hard to believe that she is simply just like living in the woods?”

“You are too young and innocent my son” his mother cup his cheeks squishing them making him whines at display of affection “I don’t know who is your companion but everything he sell you make us good living so I will let you go”

Hoseok pauses for a minute “yeah …. he is private man?” he said with hesitation

“Come before celebration start, will you?”

Hoseok node at his mother and start navigate his hose with a soft grip on its neck.

Unlike everyone hoseok didn’t fear the woods, he often find himself yarning to take a walk round the forest. The trees standing tall and proud, sun light gilding through the branches of the trees. The sound of birds and squirrels is something that made hoseok smile something that lots of his villagers find uninteresting. The lake was always crystal clear, remanding him of the tears of mermaid tales that he heard growing up. The silence of woods never frightened him either because he knows there is nothing out there that could harm him.

He always coming up with reasons to go there, maybe the reason behind that is he simply love the forest or maybe because your home is in the forest and it’s the only way, he can see you. He used to think that it was the first one but as the time goes, he realized it might be not.

How the two of meet was fresh in his memory. Teen hoseok was rebellious and reckless, as teenager always curious to find out new things and his curious nature resulted in him find the hunter that lives in the woods. His grandmother would gather him and his siblings to tell the story of wild hunter that lives in the wood. He was most dangerous man the town, no one would dare to walk or look his way. He was taller and stronger than an average man. He would come town at beginning of the month and middle of it each year to collect things and then he would go back to the woods. His grandma would say that the woods is his home and no one was allowed to go there. He partially believed that his grandmother was lying so they don’t wonder off into the woods.

To test his theory, he went to woods he was happy to find no man was there but what stunned him was you kneeling on the ground plucking wild flowers beside a basket that was too big for your little arms. He felt like creep for watching you do your thing, the way your hair was kept showed someone did a poor job the cream color ribbon tied just keep the hair falling on your face, dress that fit perfectly but mud stain at the bottom, boots that too big for you, but his insides were glowing warm making him tingle all over his body. You were in your own world and when he walked towards you startling you at unexpected visitor. When hoseok smile pushed his hands towards to greet you all you did was start to cry and throw the basket at him hastily before running away.

He was only seconds away running after you to explain he didn’t mean to make you cry but the sound of his parents’ voice calling his name made him change his path of running. Yeah, it wasn’t a good first impression.

He parents were so furious at him and banned him for going to the woods again, everyone kept an eye on him and he wasn’t allowed to go alone for couple of years he was always accompanied with cousins or siblings. Sometimes he thought that you were just his imagination that proved wrong when he saw you again.

He was helping his father at the market when the hunter came to the usual routine, he no longer intimidated them but he surprised when a little girl trailed behind him her little hand securely kept in the mans calloused one.

You were clearly amazed by the market eagerly looking around the innocence and pure happiness radiated from you. Your clothes were neat but it’s worn out, someone really tried to make your hair more presentable as if you spent hours on it.

When his eyes meet yours this time toy didn’t show any fear just curiosity unknowingly a smile made its way to his lips and that made you smile as well. He remembers the hunter taking to buy clothes that’s fits you. The people casted him suspicious glances thinking what a young girl doing with a hunter. Clearly, he wasn’t the father judging by the appearance but he didn’t question it. As he tries to follow you his father pulled by his shirt denying his wish to meet up close. He watched from afar as you and the man collect thing from various shops before starting to leave.

From there on you and the man would come and collect things and leave. Hoseok would try to walk up to you but always there will be someone preventing him from doing so and you never spent time longer than needed but you always looked at him some times even smiled at him.

But after one day you didn’t come at all he waited for but you never came later the hunter also stopped coming, it worried him. Are you ill? Why did you stop coming? Did something happen to you? There aren’t wild animals that could hurt you, he concluded that you were just ill and prayed the gods that you will be better. It annoyed him to no end for feeling that way, you’re just a stranger that he doesn’t know anything about, but something in him hurts thinking about you in pain, maybe its in his nature, he one of most empathic one in the village.

His worries only increased when you nor the hunter never came, the people didn’t indulge in what happened to you. As he grows his responsibility grow to slowly, he starts to forget about you. Hoseok grown into fine young man everyone loved him young men envied him, but he was humble and kind to everyone.

Surprised would be understatement when he saw you again years later, just like the first time you were in your own world as you washed fresh fruits in near lake. He was starstruck when he saw you but this time you didn’t run away. With a titled head a small smile graced you face.

“You are not going to throw me in the water this time, are you?” he asked with a teasing smile on his lips

“Perhaps I will” there is no menace in the words its was light and playful, that’s made him laugh

From that a beautiful friendship was born and along the way he fallen for the girl in the woods. When everyone thought that she is witch that killed the hunter now living the woods controlling the woods.

His eagerness made him reach his destination faster, he smiles unknowingly when he sees your home, it radiates a sense of calm and warmth. A deer walks around the front of your home with no fear of his presence along with couple of rabbits and swans. Wild birds preached on window a total sense of safety indicated.

He calls out your name.

“In here” you yell from behind the house where you arrange different kind of fruits and wild flowers for him to sell at his shop. After the two of you become friends, you have been helping him find new flowers and fruits and vegetable that grow in the woods. The partnership had helped him and his family in more than one way.

But to him you were just simple girl that live in woods, there is no evil magic in you even if there is he would gladly let you use him. He learned that the hunter was like father to you and like him you also content with living in the woods.

Washing the fresh fruits that you find couple of days ago, you answer him. Hoseok didn’t tie his horse as the it knows the routine, simply walks towards where you kept water and fresh leaves for him to each along with some fruits.

“Did you go deep in without me?” he asks after seeing buddle of flower that was, he never seen. He frowns at the thought of you running around the woods without him even if you lived your entire life in the woods he woods

“Yeah, I felt like walking after couple of hours I came across these beautiful flowers” you said with smile on your face not knowing his inner thoughts.

“Well wait for me next time”

It was time for him to go home you send Hoseok a smile “have lovely day Hoseok”.

You nodded your head before continuing Hoseok starts to tell you about how things back in his home, how you occasionally node and listen silently without making any attempt to talk. He never took that personally because he knew that you are used stay in silence and rather listen to him and you love that about him for not judging you or pressuring you to talk to him.

He node at you, glancing at you he inhales slowly, oh heavens you are just captivating just by standing there in without realizing how mesmerizing your presence is, in worn out clothes here there is dirt and stains visible but that somehow made you more alluring he don’t know. Maybe someone else don’t agree with his statement but to him you’re the prettiest and most beautiful girl he know.

The soft whisper of his name falls from your lips bring him back from his blissful thoughts, sees you stand a little closer to him with a confused look on his, everything in his body scream to embrace you, take away the wariness of your bones, give his warmth to you, to love you. Without even knowing he caught up in his thoughts again. Making you worried even more at the lack of his response

A soft touch on his arm made him come back and he wish your touch stay like that feeling like it’s the only thing that connect him to reality.

“Are you feeling unwell? You look flustered and red like berries” you touch his forehead to feel his temperature making him go redder if that’s possible

He removes himself from you before he melts into a puddle of honey “I’m fine” his voice come out too rushed and out of breath he walks towards his horse, he stops for moment before fully turning to you, you tilt your head at confused when you start to walk towards you.

“I know it’s been a while but I was meaning to ask you……….” He pauses you silently encourage him to continue “wouldyoulikebeminefortherestofmylife” he blurred out so quickly.

That was bad how can she be yours she is her own person

“Hoseok, I did not understand any of that” you said with a playful annoyed jest.

Good

“I was asking if you would like……to come with tonight’s celebration I was looking forward to have you there with me”

“I do not think that would be a good idea…” you trail off but seeing his defeated look on you face you falter a little and he never asked you to do something for him, if the celebration means that’s much to him, you’re willing to indulge in it “but I think we can give it a try” that made him light up like a sun in the early morning.

“Good…. Great even… then I will come to get you be prepared by dust”

With a bright smile on his face, he walks backward still smiling like teenage boy towards his horse.

Maybe he can tell you tonight how he feels.

Note : that's type of dress what I have on mind if you want you can change it I'm only showing the typical one. There won't any other description of what you'll wear.

Thank you for reading, comment, likes and reblogs it's help to write 💓🙏

Tag

Masterpost here

@thebisexualonesworld

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runningfrom2am · 9 months

Text

on the one screen in my town: four

summary:

mason’s life with drew was absolutely perfect, she was happier than ever; until everything came crashing down all at once.

tags/warnings:

drew starkey x fem!popstar!oc, drug and alcohol use, addiction, death, grief, these tags are not exhaustive, idk i'll add to this as it goes on.

wc: 1.9k

disclaimer!!: this part contains a song which i DID NOT WRITE** this is an amazing song by my mother, taylor swift, called “bigger than the whole sky” (i’ll link it here) so yeah i’m NOT claiming to have come up with the lyrics or any of the song AT ALL it just fit the vibes and this is all for fun :)

series masterlist

masterlists

Drew hears the echoing of their piano through the halls of their Charleston house as he sits in his office, trying to finalize all the legal documents and contracts of vendors for their wedding. It's hard when the wedding has been postponed, many of their deposits no longer valid. Not that it matters to him much, but it would be nice to be able to give them a solid date to stick to.

He sighs as he gets up, tiptoeing down the hall, careful not to step on any creaky floorboards as he gets closer to the music. He presses his back to the wall, wanting to listen without bothering Mason. He peeks inside, and the room is in the state it's been for months- papers and blankets everywhere, clothes and abandoned coffee mugs scattered on every imaginable surface. Her "writers cave", as she had jokingly called it before, now looks just as depressing as it sounds.

"Did some bird flap its wings over in Asia?"

He hears the soft tones of her voice now that he's close enough. She was singing so quiet he could hardly pick it up over the sound of the piano, even being so close.

"Did some force take you because I didn't pray..."

The song Mason wrote in the wake of her breakup with Brady all those years ago has now taken on an entirely different meaning for both of them. Drew can hear the shakiness in her voice, the lyrics just slow and torturous enough to leave her attached to the words. Her mother has been gone for months now, and she is doing better with her grief, but Drew can't help but feel like he's mourning not just the woman who would have been his mother-in-law, but also the woman who was meant to be his wife.

It's a beautiful song, and it does take Drew a minute to wrack his mind for its title, placing a weight in his chest when he remembers just as Mason reaches the chorus.

"Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. You were bigger than the whole sky..."

She plays it slower, pushing the keys down harder, more frustrated that she couldn't get the notes just right as her voice shakes, and more frustrated that the association of the song has changed at all. Drew jumps as she slams her hands on the keys, swiping the sheet music onto the floor and turning on the bench. She freezes when she sees him in the doorway, no longer trying to hide. "Honey, hi.." She sighs, standing up and plastering on a smile.

"Frustrated?" He asks, gesturing to the papers scattered across the floor. He knew she didn't need them when she played, he wondered why they were even there.

"Yeah, sorry." Mason chuckles, walking up to him and sliding her arms around his waist in a hug.

"That's okay." He says softly, planting a kiss on the top of her head as he hugs her back. "We've got that dinner and party tonight, are you sure you want to go?."

"I want to go." Mason insists. It's a casual get together with Drew's OBX cast mates, and they promised they would go. It will be the first time he's seen them since the series finished filming relatively recently, and Mason wouldn't want to take that from him. "Besides, I feel like I'm rotting away in this room. I've got to get out." She chuckles, looking around at the messy space.

"Alright. We don't have to stay long, just make an appearance and talk to a few people and then we'll come back, yeah?" Drew says, not wanting to push her, but he does really want her to go, to get out and see their friends who he knows she's very comfortable with. After all, him and Este have been planning this night for a month now.

Mason nods a little against his chest, pulling out of his arms and gently patting his shoulder as she brushes past him, going to start getting ready.

She's eased herself back into events and public appearances slowly, understanding that life must go on- somehow. Especially when she has so many people waiting on her, looking up to her, even if they've kept what happened almost totally private. Besides their close friends and family, including their friends on the cast- which is the only thing Mason is dreading about this.

"I'm scared they're going to be weird." She says to her fiancé as he drives them towards the restaurant.

"What do you mean?" He asks, tilting his head a little bit as he focusses on the road, one hand on her thigh in the passengers seat.

"I haven't seen them since before mom passed- I just don't want things to be like... different. I don't know." Mason sighs.

"They'll be fine." Drew assured her. "Besides, if you're even a little bit uncomfortable, we'll leave. Just tell me and we'll go, okay?"

Mason nods, swallowing as they pull up to the building. At least it's her favourite restaurant, and she knows she can have her favourite food, if nothing else good comes from the night. They park in the back lot, ready to go in through the back door of the space which is closed to the public for the night. She hops out and grabs her bag from the floor of the vehicle, along with a few gift bags she put together for everyone in the main cast. She couldn't make it to the official wrap party, so she wanted to say congratulations to them all while she had everyone in one place.

Drew wraps his arm around her shoulder as they walk up to the building, giving her a gentle squeeze as the door is opened for them and they walk in. It's dark, and quiet, and Mason chuckles a little in confusion as Drew leaves her side, and suddenly the colourful lights flick on- giving the girl a semblance of vision in the previously pitch black restaurant.

"Happy birthday Mason!" A cheering fills her ears as she processes all their friends standing in front of them as all the tables are cleared. A smile crossed her face and she laughs, shocked too see that this is all for her.

"Happy birthday, love." Drew is with her again, reaching for the bags in her arms. "Here, let me take these..." As soon as her arms are free there's someone throwing their arms around her shoulders.

"It's not even my birthday." Mason chuckles, hugging her best friend back.

"Oh please, it's close enough, Mace." Este replies, rubbing her back. "We just love you, and want you to feel celebrated."

"Thank you, Este." She whispered, pulling away carefully with a weak smile on her face. There was only a few days before her birthday, and she had completely pushed the idea of it out of her mind.

"Now, come on, let's get you a drink!" Este is quickly ushering Mason along, not wanting to give her a chance to overthink anything.

Drew chuckles as they quickly walk off, placing the bags of gifts for his cast mates on a table pushed up against the wall.

"Drew." Madelyn grabs his attention and he turns around to look at her.

"Hey, Mads, how are you?" He smiles, giving her a quick hug.

"I'm good! Thank you for inviting us." She smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder. "How are you doing?"

"Uh, I'm good! Yeah. Everything's great. Well, good. We're going day by day." He shrugs, knowing what she was really asking.

"Good. That's really the best you can do." Madelyn nods, looking over her shoulder at Mason and Este at the bar. "Is Mace doing okay? I've reached out but she doesn't want to talk much."

Drew sighs as he follows her eyes over to his fiancé. "Yeah, I mean, she doesn't want to talk to anyone these days. Please, don't take it personally."

"No, no of course not. That's what I assumed." Madelyn nods, watching as JD and Rudy greeted Mason with a hug, careful of the drink in her hand. "If I can ask, any updates on the wedding?"

Drew shakes his head, looking down now. "Not really. She just wants to keep pushing it back and back."

Madelyn furrows her brow, detecting the frustration hidden in his tone, even with his slightly half-hearted laugh. "She'll be ready one day- but I get it. I couldn't imagine having to plan a wedding without my mom. Forget standing there on the best day of my life knowing my mom isn't there to celebrate with me." She frowns, shaking her head just at the idea of it. "Just, be patient with her."

"I know..." Drew agrees quietly. "I'm trying, truly."

"She's lucky to have you." Madelyn smiles at him, patting his shoulder again.

At that, she walks off to greet Mason, watching her words carefully and trying to be as normal as possible. Este made it so clear to the group before the couple arrived that they need to be mindful about what they say about her mom. After all, they had all written up and signed a card for her when they first heard the news, so follow-up conversation about the topic at her birthday party was hardly necessary.

Mason was quick to hand out the gifts she brought for everyone, and after she opened all of hers, Drew had them sent out to the car while they said their goodbyes. Mason had fun the last couple hours, but just wanted to get home by this point.

They step outside, and unfortunately are greeted by cameras flashing at them from the outside of the makeshift barricade.

"Mason! Did you call off the engagement?" Someone shouts, and she just shakes her head, keeping it down as they beeline for their vehicle.

"Mason! How are you coping with your moms death?" A different voice yells, seemingly upset that they're all just being ignored.

"Just get in the car." Drew mumbles to her, keeping his arm protectively around her side until he could open the door for her, quickly closing it.

"Drew! Does it bother you that she keeps moving the wedding?" He tries to ignore all the shouting as he makes it to the drivers side.

"Drew, are you feeling lucky you won't have to put up with a mother-in-law?" The follow up question comes and he snaps, slamming the door he had just opened to get in and pacing angrily over to the photographer.

"Hey! Watch your mouth or you'll never sell another picture again- hear me?" He shouts, getting up in their face as cameras flash at him from seemingly every direction. "Leave us alone- I swear you'll regret it if you don't."

He shakes out his clenched fist and turns to walk away, not wanting to make more of a scene than he already has. He's quick to get in the vehicle and slam the door again, quickly turning it on as Mason hides the tears streaming down her face with one of the gift bags.

Security blocks off the group of people so they could exit safely, driving home to escape reality for a while again.

taglist: @bookishbabyyy @madelynie, @whore-4-drewstarkey, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury @fullfledgedemo @rafemotherfuckingcameron, @urfaveluvr, @alimaythings, @chenslucy, @s-we-e-t-t-ea, @tahliac11, @ragingsammie, @suzyheartsrafe, @dee127

join my taglist here

#drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey #obx fanfic #drew starkey blurb #Spotify

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zanniscaramouche · 9 months

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No one can claim that I'm fast, but hey! I finally had a moment to sit down and find some fics for a lovely anon who wandered into my inbox looking for classical musician!larry. A few of these are a little bit of a stretch, but hopefully there's something here you enjoy! You'll see little blue hearts along with a lil comment from me on those I have read (admittedly not that many, oops) This is definitely an AU I'd love to see more fic for! It's possible there's more out there, alas it doesn't seem to be commonly tagged. Make sure to tag your fics folks! It makes filtering for things like this so much easier! 💙

🎼 the school of extraordinary lovers // stylinsoncity @stylinsoncity - 191k "We keep telling the other, I love you and I love you, and we do, though we both know where the knives are." - Laura Van Prooyen

harry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.

🎼 Love Is A Rebellious Bird // 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews - 134k AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

💙 zannithinks: one of those 'classics' that many love! I really enjoyed this fic, and as someone who hears Bolero every year at a local festival I think of this fic often

🎼 Saving Symphony Hall // HelloAmHere @helloamhere - 124k “I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

💙 zannithinks: I looooove this one! A well developed world and lovable OC's, this is definitely the first fic I think of when I think Larry and Classical Music

🎼 Where Words Fail, Music Speaks // Larry_you_know @larryyouknow - 45k Louis is a world class violinist. He’s one year over forty, living his best life in New York. One day, he comes to a small town in Connecticut where he inherited a house from his late father. The town looks nice and its people welcome him warmly. The problem is that Louis never knew his father and he doesn’t intend to change anything about it - his father can stuff his last will up his treacherous ass. In a strange coincidence, Louis meets town troubadour Harry, who seems wonderful to him just right until he reveals that Louis’ father was like a dad to him.

Even though Louis tries to convince himself that it shouldn’t - it hurts.

🎼 Until You Remember // Throwthemflowers - 21k Talented London pianist Louis Tomlinson moves to a small coastal town to escape the elites of his job and the mundanity of his life. Through the music of Debussy he finds a charming, wonderful friend in Harry Styles, the fiancé of the town's mayor. Louis thinks his pining is in vain until he discovers that all may not be as it seems….

🎼 And I'll Be Here When Only the Silence Remains // louisniall @louisniaii - 19k The one where Louis is a top notch mute violinist and Harry might just be the person he trusts most

🎼 Back to the Sign, and Play Through the End // tomlinsunshine - 17k Louis is a globally renowned pianist; Harry is the worst page turner this world has ever known.

🎼 Take more of my space, why don't you? // otfuckingp - 10k Of course, the universe is not on Louis’ side, nor on the side of his mental health. Just as he starts to think they might get away with this empty seat -- yes, they. He and Instrument Man are in this together, a united front against the forces of any more people-- one more person steps onto the plane. He bypasses the first fifteen rows without so much as a falter, but the fact that he slows around 17 gives Louis pause. There aren’t many empty seats in this section... Surely not. Surely the universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to do this to him.

And then there’s another body landing in the seat next to Instrument Man. Well, “landing” might be too polite. Crashing, is more like it. Within the first ten seconds, he’s elbowed instrument Man in the side, dropped something on the floor, and nearly tripped a stewardess with the exuberant flailing of his legs. All in all, completely shattering the tentative silence in row 21 DEF. Fuck.//

Harry and Louis meet on a plane. Louis is not impressed, until he is.

🎼 What is simple in the moonlight, never really is. // judgementdays @judgementdays - 5k And then they're talking, like they always do on late nights. They talk about the future, about the cute girl who was checking Harry out at Tesco's, about the cute boy who asked for Louis' number the other day. They mostly end up talking about their auditions for the school of their dreams, though.

Louis plays piano and Harry plays guitar and they're both trying to get into Juilliard but feelings sort of happen.

🎼 Play Me Something Sweet // nonsensedarling @absolutenonse - 4k “Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Louis says. Harry just looks at him and lifts an eyebrow in silent question. “How about if you pretend I’m your cello as you try it out, like we used to?” Or Harry's good at a lot of instruments, but his favorite one to play is Louis.

💙 zannithinks: this one is spicey!!!!

🎼 And I've got something missing tonight. // whisperedbrave @louistomlindaughter - 2k That night, much like many others, he finishes his dinner and falls asleep to the sound of his neighbor and his piano.

or the one where Harry's upstairs neighbor plays the piano every night. one night he stops and Harry can't sleep.

#tracksintheam #trackinghome #hlficlibrary #hlcreators #hljournal #larry stylinson #larry #larry fic #larry fanfic #one direction #harry styles #louis tomlinson #1d library #1dlibrary #zanni fic rec #still not sure how that became a tag i use #classical musicians #fic rec

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ravennaortiz · 3 months

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I feel like I'm always in your inbox for requests. But we can't have the inbox get empty again right? This time I'm thinking we do Opie. The first time I watched the series my boyfriend said not to get attached and I got attached. I cried like a baby when he was killed. Okay so I'm thinking we go with the prompts 3, 12, 17, 20, and 30. They can go in whichever order makes the best storyline. This gives me an after Donna vibe.

You are welcome to pop in to the inbox with as many request as you wish!!!!!! Also, no we cannot let the inbox get empty again. I agree his death was devastating in the show.

I love the idea of Opie post Donna for these prompts. Lets se what magic we can cook up!

Prompts:

3. Why did you save me?

12. Do you wanna come in?

17. I love you

20. Why?

30. I need you

Hold Space

Opie stood in the feminine product aisle rubbing his face roughly. He found himself thinking once again today he should have asked Donna how this shit worked. It never occurred to him that one day he would be standing here on his own trying to figure out what his daughter needed. That he would be handing the birds and bees talk with both kids. He wasn't built to be a single parent to a teenage daughter he thought to himself. This so far had been one of the worst days of his adult life.

Opie was almost in tears from stress as he pulled his phone out hoping you would answer. Hearing your voice as you said hello on the other end had him sighing in relieve. "I'm sorry. I know its late but I need you" stated Opie as he scanned the shelves. "Why? Are the kids okay?" you replied. Opie smiled at your concern. "There fine. Well Ellie not as much. She umm has become a lady and made it very clear how inadequate I am as not only a mother but a father" replied Opie as he recalled the venom with which Ellie had yelled at him that she wished it had been him that died and not Donna. "You at the little corner store down the street?" you asked as you slipped your shoes and jacket on. "Yeah" replied Opie. "I'm on my way, hang tight" you stated before ending the call.

***

Opie watched as you talked and walked Ellie through all the items that the two of you had picked up. Your compassion and empathy for everyone never ceased to amaze him. He found himself wishing a lot lately that he had met you before Donna. That you had moved to town sooner then two months after she had died. He loved her of course but the way you had showed up not just for him and the kids but also the club when you didn't need to spoke volumes.

After tucking the kids in for the night Opie found you in the hall dusting off the photos of Donna he had hung. "She always was the better one about cleaning" joked Opie as he rubbed the back of his neck. You laughed quietly. "You know your a good father right? Teen girls are ruthless. We say shit we don't mean to.... Well at least not aloud" you offered as you turned to him. Opie nodded as he looked down at the floor.

***

You had just finished making coffee when you heard a knock at the door. Looking through the peep hole you saw Opie. "Hey Opie" you greeted as he stared down at the floor. "Do you wanna come in? I just made coffee." you asked as you opened your door for him to pass through. "Coffee would be great." replied Opie with a smile as he walked in.

The two of you sat on your couch in silence for a moment before Opie set his cup down and turned to you. "Why did you save me? Not just at the store but in general." he inquired. "You deserved to be" you replied after a moment of thought as you sipped your coffee. "I love you. That scares me to say. Like its erasing her ya know?" confessed Opie as he looked down at the couch. Setting your coffee down you moved over and took his hands in yours making him look up at you. "I will always hold space for Donna. I never want to erase her from your life or the kids. She earned that space and I will always fight for her to have it because I love you too Opie." you replied.

Want more Opie? Click here

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#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #soa fanfiction #soa fanfic #opie winston #opie winston soa #opie winston fanfiction #opie winston fanfic #opie soa #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy imagines

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