#HE'S HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE. HE MUST HAVE FELT SO LONELY INITIALLY BEING A DRUID

[jessmaybank]

Jailbirds; part 1 - do the crime, do the time.

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x fem! Reader.

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: When you get arrested at a party, you are forced to spend the night in a cell with JJ.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, fighting, mentions of abuse (smut in next parts).

Authors note: I had this idea this morning and I just had to write it. And this gif - I mean god bless. Let me know if y’all want a Rafe version.

It was a Friday night in the sun-soaked paradise of outer banks. The evening light painted the sky in hues of purple, pink and gold, as numerous teenagers were scattered around the beach drinking.

You were no stranger to obx parties, although sometimes you did feel like it. You had a knack for finding yourself in troublesome situations, and tonight was no different.

You were pushing through the crowds of people to get another drink when someone pushes into you, the cheap beer in their hand drenching your white top completely. Thank god you chose to wear a bra tonight.

You recognise the girl as Sofia, Rafes new girlfriend. You actually thought she was nice, but your drunk state meant all rationality was thrown out the window.

“Excuse you” you spit, wiping your top as if it would magically dry by doing so.

Sophia chuckles, a sickly smirk spread across her freckled face, and you already knew a bitchy comment was about to pour out of her.

“You bumped into me, bitch” she says, taking a step closer to intimidate you. Little did she know you were the wrong bitch to mess with.

You almost laughed In her face when the reality hit, Rafe must of had rubbed off on her already.

people around us were staring, and you knew you couldn’t just leave now. You were ganna have to fight her, and to be honest you wanted to.

So, that’s exactly what you did. Your right arm swung through the evening breeze right into her cheek, sending her stumbling back until she’s submerged into the party crowd.

You leach forward to find her again, but you were interrupted by two big arms wrapping around your torso pulling you back abruptly.

You struggled to get out of their reach, but evidently failed. When you felt the feeling of cold metal being wrapped around your wrists, your heart stopped for a second.

Shit. It was the cops.

Turns out, moments before disaster, someone called the cops on the party. Just my luck, you thought to yourself.

Fortunately, the officer spared you the pleasure of reading your Miranda rights as he hurled you into the back of their van at the top of the beach. People stared, but you didn’t care. You just hoped they wouldn’t call your parents.

A chill ran down your spine as were escorted into a dimly lit cell in the back of the police station 20 minutes later. Despite the fact you were a little rebellious, you had never been locked in a cell before.

You winced as your fingers trailed along the red marks sprawled along your wrists, left from the hand cuffs.

Disoriented and disheveled, you sit on the lone bench in the cell, bringing your legs up to meet your chest.

As time passed, your initial fear and frustration transformed into a period of quiet reflection. You pondered your life choices as you wondered how the hell you ended up here. Although your mind was filled with regrets, you couldn’t shake the sliver of hope whispering to you that maybe something good will come out of this.

A large clang filled your ears as the jail cell opens, causing you to lift your tired head.

“Jails crowded. He’s ganna have to bunk with you” the officer says, and you then register the figure standing next to him.

A boy, who looks about 18, stands beside the officer. His head is hung high and confident despite the fact he’s about to be confined in a small cell with you. You had a feeling this wasn’t his first time.

You take in his features, gazing at his blonde locks and his muscly physique as he’s ushered in the cell.

As he comes in closer proximity to you, you begin to recognise him as one of Kiaras friends. You and kie used to be close, but drifted apart a bit when she started hanging out with the pogues all the time. Hopefully he didn’t recognise you.

“Your locking me in here with a kook? You gotta be kidding me.” He laughs, and you scoff at his rude remark.

Great, so he does knows who you are.

Before you could protest to the guard about being locked in a cell alone with a man all night, and an annoying one at that, he was gone. Surely this can’t be legal.

“How does a kook end up in here anyway? Did daddy not give you enough allowance to buy your way out today?” He says, a mocking tone present within his words as he slumps himself onto the bench next to you.

A mixed smell of weed, beer and vanilla aftershave fills your nostrils as he sits next to you, and the unfamiliarity of his presence so close to you causes you to bring your knees back down to the floor.

The blonde was a bit surprised of your lack of response to his comment, usually kooks are not afraid to knock a pogue down.

“Your wet” the boy says, trailing his eyes over your body, before focusing a bit too much on the way your bra was on display through your shirt. The mischievous glint in his voice made you feel warm inside, despite the fact that as he confirms, you were still wet.

“Thanks for that Einstein” you say in a sassy tone, rolling your eyes in the process. You then shoot him a glare as you turn your head to face him.

With his own history of daring adventures and brushes with the law, the boy couldn’t help but be drawn to your fiery and independent presence.

“Mm, sarcastic, I like it. Is that pretty little mouth of yours what got you in to trouble?” He asks.

You knew he was taunting you, pogues and kooks don’t mix. You learnt that the day kie started blowing you off for the boy currently sat beside you.

A small part of you couldn’t blame her though. As obnoxious as he was, he was very nice to look at. But for the life of you, you just couldn’t remember his name.

The blonde spent the next ten minutes pestering you about what you did to get in here, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You knew the moment you told him he was just going to start mocking you again.

“Come on, just tell-“ the boy is interrupted as the jail cell slides open for the second time tonight, and you pray he’s not about to shove another delinquent in here.

“Y/N, your parents didn’t answer their phone, you know where they are?” The officer asks.

“they’re on vacation at the moment Sir” you lie. You knew your parents were home sleeping, but they were heavy sleepers. That, and they didn’t really care where you were most of the time. Although it did upset you sometimes, you were grateful for it in moments like this.

“JJ” the cop begins, and it comes back to you. His name is JJ.

“Don’t bother. He ain’t here” JJ says, cutting off the gaurd. You notice how his head falls down and his face screws up at the mention of what you assume is his father, and the memories all come flooding back to you.

You recall a day last summer when kie came to you crying about her friends, her words ringing in your ears as you sit in this dim cell. He hit him. JJs dad was abusive.

“Well, we’re short staffed today so I will get someone to escort you both home in the morning. Maybe this will teach you both to stop getting into fights” he says, before leaving just as quickly as he came.

Ignoring the fact that the pair of you had just been sentenced to a night together in here, you screw your eyes shut as JJs smile grows wider and wider.

“You got into a fight?”

#obx #outer banks #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank #jj obx #rudy pankow #drew starkey #jj outer banks #outer banks season three

[ghostiex0]

Spetsnaz with a secret admirer

Cut only due to length. I choose all different items for the boys to receive just to shake things up a little bit

Kapkan

- This lone wolf would definitely be taken off guard by the appearance of a gift left for him.

-After getting over his initial confusion, it wouldn’t take him long to slip away from people for some privacy as he tries to open the little wrapped gift without getting the wrapping everywhere.

- He’s the type to double check if anyone is around before actually looking at the gift. In his defense, this feels like it was meant just for him, so he should be the only one seeing it.

- Beneath all the wrapping was a cool steel knife. Made in a similar fashion to a buck knife with a wooden handle.

- Upon further inspection, he’d notice the initials carved onto the wood. His own boldly stood out to him, but the other one… he was unsure.

- He put together quickly that it was probably the one who gifted him the polished blade.

-The initials weren’t much to go off of, and he didn’t want to have to ask around too much. People would get curious as to what he’s up too. Especially his comrades.

- Luckily, Maxim’s a respectable hunter who likes a good chase.

Glaz

- A true artist like himself is pretty in touch with his emotions and has a deep appreciation for anything that can speak to them.

- So when he finds a nice leather notebook left on the bench in his locker (one that is definitely not his, as the one he keeps in his locker is typically much smaller), he’s immediately reaching for it out of curiosity.

- Feeling the firm leather, Timur could tell it was pretty high quality. Someone must have wanted it to be nice.

- He doesn’t go to hide away with it, but he keeps it on the down low.

- Gracefully, he opens the notebook to see handwriting on the cover’s inside, a detection to himself from a mystery lover.

- He couldn’t help but give a little smile at the thought of someone taking the time for him. And getting him something he would definitely be using at that.

- He was going to find out who they were, but he found himself liking the mystery lover’s unknown identity.

Fuze

- Left right in his locker was a bundle of white tulips.

- Shuhrat is overcome with confusion at them, slipping off some of his heavier gear as he sat down next to the flowers, before gently picking them up to look for any reason why they would be here.

- The thought of a secret admirer probably doesn’t even cross his mind.

- But when he finds a little note attached to it with words such as “With love” he suddenly becomes aware that he’s holding a gift. One sent with love at that.

- His brain stops functioning for a second, just holding the flowers and staring at them blankly. A meek attempt to process that someone was gifting him flowers.

- His spacing out is swiftly replaced by a sense of panic when he hears his comrades voices drawing near. He knows that Alexsandr would give him the teasing of his life if he found out Shuhrat was being fancied by someone.

- He didn’t know why but he felt a tug on his heartstrings as he went to throw them somewhere randomly hidden. Causing him to change his mind last minute, opting to have them gently placed back in his locker instead.

Tachanka

- Alexsandr is a charming show-off so having people admire him isn’t exactly a new thing, but a real admirer?

- Working out with his fellow Spetsnaz Ops is a regular suggestion from Alex. And it leaves his locker free reign for leaving him a little something.

- So when they started to settle down and head up for some drinks and a rest. He almost doesn’t notice the letter left for him. The part that catches his eye is the little red scribbled heart against the white paper.

- He doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, looking it over with a gleam in his eyes.

- Even with his comrades around, Alex opens the hearted paper, a very different texture than the work out equipment he was using before.

- Seeing it’s a lovely love letter, he’s instantly reading it through. He’s smirking and gives a few laughs at some of the letter.

- Not laughing at who this secret admirer is, more of he’s flattered and laughing is his natural reaction.

- Alexsandr thinks the letter is adorable and is dying to know who his admirer is. Unlike many of the others, he’s absolutely and shamelessly asking around to figure out who they are.

#r6s #r6s x reader #rainbow six siege #r6 #R6S Spetsnaz #Kapkan x reader #glaz x reader #fuze x reader #tachanka x reader #headcanons #r6 glaz #r6 Kapkan #r6 fuze #r6 tachanka

[furbywrites]

I'd Never Let You Go Pt. 1

So, this is my first fanfic. It's pretty rough. Constructive criticism welcome :)

Ao3

At the sudden reappearance of Joel and Ellie in Jackson, a lonely resident becomes enamored with the stoic man. Lacking social skills, they look from afar, thinking themself subtle in their admiration. Unbeknownst to them, Joel has also been admiring from afar, feeling just as incapable of forming any new emotional connection, but drawn to them regardless.

There were new arrivals in Jackson. Not entirely unusual; it was more so their initial dramatic entrance that caught my attention. They came, they left, and now they were back again. Normally I wouldn’t pay much attention, except for the fact that they seemed like such a mismatched pair. A younger girl and an old man, not father and daughter like I, and most others had assumed.

She was energetic, extroverted, and although hesitant at first, settled in nicely. The man was another story entirely. He kept to himself, made little conversation with anyone other than the girl, and Tommy of course. Estranged brothers from what I had gathered. I didn’t know Tommy well enough to delve into his family history. We spoke in passing, and even then very little. 

I wasn’t known for being talkative. This life has taught me that being quiet and keeping your head down helped things go smoothly. I’d been in Jackson for one year, and had no friends to speak of. Secluding myself was far too easy, especially in a world like this. Maybe that’s why I found myself so interested in him. We seemed so alike, but so different at the same time. Where he commanded respect with his presence alone, I blended into the scenery like a shadow.

I sat in the mess hall, attempting to discreetly take a peek from under my lashes. Joel Miller. He was scowling at his plate of food, until the girl, Ellie, read something from a book gripped in her hand. It was a subtle but noticeable uptick of his mouth, his guard coming down momentarily as he huffed a laugh with a shake of his head. It was these moments, a glimpse at the man beneath the mask, that continuously peaked my interest.

I gathered from the current town gossip that they had been through hell and back together. They must have an unbreakable bond if so. I felt almost envious of their relationship. No, not almost, I was.  

Joel was big, strong, and capable. Everything the people I survived with prior to Jackson hadn’t been. They had felt like a weight I carried on my shoulders, dragging me down, until eventually I had left to be on my own. I wish I could say it was easier. Some spiteful part of me wanted life to be easier without them, but going solo was far worse.

I was on death's door when a patrol group from Jackson had found me. The tips of my fingers frostbitten, feet numb and burning, stomach empty. I was dying. The worst part is, I could have gone back to my old group, they no doubt would have accepted me with open arms. But god, I was so humiliated at my own failure. I felt death was better than facing them again.

My eyes stung with oncoming tears at the memory, embarrassment heating my cheeks. The food before me suddenly looked less appealing, but I continued to eat it anyway. I looked once more towards Joel, glancing away hastily when we made eye contact. Not so subtle I guess.

His stare felt like it was burning me, somehow making the blush on my cheeks glow brighter all of his own accord. I took another glance, like gazing at him alone was somehow addictive. Taking in his uneven scruff, graying hair, soft brown eyes. One more look before I go. 

His gaze was unwavering. I could feel my heart pitter patter in my chest, the blush spreading to my ears. I stood quickly, in such a rush to leave the suddenly claustrophobic room. I left my food on the table and hurried out the door of the mess hall.

How humiliating. I can’t even make eye contact with him. A foolish fascination, a childish crush, turning me into a blubbering mess. I continued onwards, the crunch of dirt under my boots a welcome distraction, until the sound of another pair fast approaching became apparent.

“'scuse me.” 

My eyes widened, feeling as though they might pop out of my head and roll away. Much like I wished I could drop to the ground and roll away from this current situation. 

Joel had followed me.

I swallowed thickly, kept my head down and continued walking. I could hear him grunt in annoyance as he quickened his steps to catch up with me. Now walking side by side, I dared to look in his direction. “Would ya’ slow down for a minute?” he asked gruffly, brows furrowed heavily. 

Any normal person might. I am not normal. Most attempts at conversation by an average resident of Jackson caused anxiety to course through my body as though one of the infected were in front of me. With Joel? It was like my brain had turned off completely. 

I hastened my steps, turned my head to stare directly at the ground, watching my boots kick up dirt. I wasn’t even sure which direction I was walking in anymore. I just knew staying near him was a bad idea. I would say something stupid, or god forbid do something stupid.

I could hear him release a deep sigh, but he continued to walk with me. "You're real quiet, ya' know that?" he huffed, sounding almost annoyed. I frowned but said nothing. "Jus' wanna talk is all. Ya' don't gotta run from me."

#joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller #x reader #tlou #autistic reader #bc i am autistic #:) #my fics #reader has selective mutism #gender neutral reader #joel miller x autistic reader

[pinkysberg]

i personally think johns return had little to nothing to do with missing abigail or jack — at most he may have felt some remorse for leaving dutch and hosea (maybe a tiny bit arthur, but i've always felt that arthur may have said or done some things after jacks birth that made him want to leave, so i think there may have been a lot of resentment between them still when he returned). i definitely think he may have thought of jack from time to time, but i think it was often overshadowed by his irrational and quite selfish bitterness towards abigail (if not hatred of at the time) for becoming pregnant, even if it's very obviously just as much, if not more, his own fault.

john is young and stupid in rdr2, and when he left he was even younger and even dumber. i think the year that he left was the first time in almost a decade where he had to stand on his own two feet and didn't have anyone to support him or stand with him. i also think it's the first time he's had to do that as an adult.

i believe that he returned because he couldn't handle life alone. he missed having people to rely on, people who care for him, people he could be shitty to and insult without it ending with him getting shot at. i think he returned because he was reminded of how hard and lonely the world is when you're alone.

was there guilt when he returned? absolutely, no doubt about it, but i think the overwhelming relief of not having to look over his shoulder constantly, being able to sleep at night withhout fear of being attacked, being able to relax and take a day off without that meaning he wouldn't have anything to eat for dinner completely overshadowed it.

i definitely agree, he didn't return for jack and abigail. in fact i think they were probably a huge facet he'd have to have made peace with to justify returning. i think they were actually the major catalyst for him leaving, so to return knowing they were still there, i imagine things must have been really challenging on his own. i do also agree, he probably couldn't make it work on his own, guilt and such aside.

i often think of john really relishing in the initial isolation. he's a young guy who's finally got nobody who expects anything of him, he's free - more or less. but that feeling dies pretty quickly when he realizes how much he relies on the gang for his comfort, safety and stability. i do think his pride would have forced him to stick it out for quite a while, though. he doesn't want to come back so soon and admit he couldn't do it alone, give dutch or whoever else the satisfaction of knowing that - to some degree - he needed them.

#thank u sm for ur insight i love reading all your think pieces #rdr2 #john marston #ask

[heliza24]

Hello!

I'd like to hear your thoughts about August's letter to himself. I was very surprised by it and frankly couldn't believe that his status could have been so low in Hillerska (since he's so close to the royal family) and then turn upside down in a short amount of time. Then again the focus of my attention has never been so keenly on August. I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts.

Also, sorry, if you have already posted about this. In that case, could you point me in the right direction?

Hello! Thank you for this question. I haven’t written about it yet, so let’s talk about it! (Also, I consulted @bluedalahorse on this one as my favorite August expert so you are getting both of us for the price of one.)

I think it’s worth remembering that the Hillerska initiation and prefect system is designed to emotionally isolate first years and make them dependent on third years. August went through a really abusive initiation first thing when he arrived at Hillerska. He was basically sexually assaulted, and part of that assault was the third years laughing at anyone who displayed difference or vulnerability (ie anyone who got turned on from the porn video, or presumably anyone who tried to protest or back out from the “test”). The initiation puts him in competition with his peers right away, and teaches him that the third years hold the key to him either being accepted or laughed at until he himself is a third year and holds the power they do now. The insidious thing about these types of initiations is that they often effectively pull people in to an abusive system. They create a trauma bond between the older and the younger students, and they create a sense of survivors bias— we survived this, it’s just the way it is, and now we must do it (at least to an extent) to the new students under us. So the initiation August went through was effective in creating a sense of inferiority within him. It was also effective in fostering competitive relationships between the Forest Hill boys that don’t have a lot of emotional intimacy. I think you can see that in August, Nils, and Vincent’s relationship as third years.

So that’s one element of it. Another is where August was coming from when he landed in this abusive system. His father had just died by suicide. That means he would’ve been in the pits of grief, but also potentially full of guilt. I don’t think it’s a huge stretch to imagine that he might have felt in someway responsible for letting his father down or felt like he had a duty to be stoic and support his mother (in the same way that Wilhelm did) instead of healthily processing his grief. All those emotions, combined with an environment where he cannot share those emotions, contributed to August feeling lonely and broken in someway.

I think it’s likely that August, Nils, and Vincent became friends early on, but August’s own insecurities kept him from realizing that those friends really liked him, and the Hillerska culture kept him from being really open with them. There’s also the fact that his closeness to the royal family might make him question the genuineness of friendships even more- do they really like me as a person or do they just like me because of my preassigned status? And that could make him more insecure.

So of course he’s going to look at Erik, who has all the power of a third year plus the absolute security of knowing that he belongs and is very valued by his family, and envy what he has. He’s going to see that Erik is well respected at school and he’s going to do everything he can to be close to Erik, in order to emulate him and also to feel like someone is filling that empty father-shaped hole in his life. I think August is clearly a very adept leader and builder of community when he puts in an effort. I think you can see that when he calls the whole room to silence during the sit in. So it’s not super surprising to me that August accomplished his goal and became a powerful player in the Hillerska system quite quickly. 

So those are my thoughts on August’s rocky early years at Hillerska. I hope it was useful!

#young royals #my meta #ask box #currently accepting silly and serious young royals questions! #august horn

[slytherinshua]

[ 6:21pm ]

The rain poured down heavily, painting the buildings and cars with water. You watched the dreary scene from the window of the cafe you worked out, the day seeming to only bring a reminder of loneliness and the approaching winter weather. 

You turned your attention back to cleaning up for closing. The tables needed to be wiped, the machines needed to be cleaned, and the ingredients stored.

You must have sighed a thousand times that day, the bright colours of the outside world seemed to be faded in your eyes. Everything was grey without him bringing the light, the colour, the saturation, the life to your world. Come back soon… please.

You knew you were probably being dramatic. Kai had only been gone for 2 weeks. You didn’t realise that 2 weeks without him felt like an eternity. And he was so busy that he could rarely text. In short, you were lonely and a little miserable.

You glanced up at the old analog clock that faced you on the wall. 21 minutes after closing time. You often ran late these days, seeing no reason to be quick with closing. What would be the point anyway? At least work served as a small distraction for you. At home, you would just be reminded of his absence more.

20 minutes was long even for you, and you decided to leave, even if you would be lonely at home as well. You stepped out of the door, the bells jingling signalled your departure. You glanced up at the grey sky nervously. You would probably be drenched by the time you got to the bus stop. You had forgotten your umbrella at home.

With a sharp inhale, you stepped out from under the doorstep, the rain welcoming you immediately. You should have started walking, but the rain was calming in a way. You closed your eyes, hand outstretched to catch raindrops in them. You smiled, letting your hair cling to your neck now that it was wet.

You didn’t even mind the slight goosebumps you got from the cold. You realised how stuffy it had been in the cafe, and how fresh and pleasant it was outside. 

Suddenly, you didn’t feel the rain dripping on you anymore and you furrowed your eyebrows. Did it stop suddenly?

You opened your eyes, only for them to tear up. The smile on your face widened, “Hi.” You breathed out, not knowing what else to say to him. He looked as handsome as ever, holding a green umbrella in his hand, shielding you both from the rain.

“You’re all wet.” He said with concern.

“That’s the least of my concerns. You’re here.”

He smiled, “I’m here.” He reached down and brushed off some of the rain drops from your hair. “What if you catch a-”

“If I catch a cold, it’s my own fault.” You cut him off, grabbing his hand from your head. “You weren’t supposed to arrive for another week.”

He smiled again, a playfulness in his face, “Surprise?”

“I missed you.”

“I know. I missed you too.” 

You didn’t say anything for a while, you just stared at him, taking in his presence which you had missed more than anything.

“Your lips look so tempting right now.” He admitted quietly.

You rose on your tiptoes so you were closer to his face, before whispering, “Yours too.”

You pressed your lips onto his, initiating a long overdue kiss. He kissed back with sweetness and passion, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. 

When you pulled back, you looked up to the sky again. The rain had calmed down to a slow drizzle, tapping rhythmically on the top of the umbrella. The world looked colourful when he was here.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ txt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz

#hueningkai #kai kamal huening #huening kai #huening #hyuka #hueningkai fic #kai fic #hyuka fic #huening fic #huening kai fic #fanfic #txt #txt fic #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together #txt hueningkai #txt huening kai #txt huening #txt hyuka #txt kai #txt kai kamal huening #kai kamal huening fic #fluff #timestamp #txt timestamps #txt timestamp #timestamps #hueningkai timestamp #huening kai timestamp #hyuka timestamp

[coleoffduty]

I was initially guilty about spamming you so I'm really glad to see the asks cheered you up!! I'm trying not to abuse the functionality but the universe you created in legacies is really interesting with so many complex dynamics. Can you talk more (if you want) about

- the relationship between viserys I and rhaenyra

- how all the kids see daemon (couldn't gauge how baela felt about the custody battle but she seems unsettled by the nettles thing)

- the closest real life voice/music/face claim for lucerys (and others if possible, i know that you said daeron ~~ damon albarn)

- was rhaenyra's rebellious youth a product of her upbringing (tumltuous as drew barrymore's was) or an idolising of notorious troublemaker daemon or because of her mother's loss

- what are the worst targaryen scandals in this universe? (Assuming maegor exists)

-where laena & laenor specifically stand with everything going on (the abuse lucerys suffered from his mother seemed like something laenor wouldn't accept unless he went through the same and thinks of it as normal)

oh em gee hi—welcome back <3 i rlly do wanna preface this by saying if you have questions and interests about something: flood my inbox as much as you want! i love interacting and getting to go back and forth about my fics, especially legacies since it’s so intricate and very slowly being unraveled due to slow updates (i’ve got like 6k words written up for this current chapter and i’m not even halfway so…).

but with that being said; change my first name to yip and last name to yap because boy do i have a lot to say.

viserys and rhaenyra’s relationship.

there’s a lot to cover on her story and perspective in this universe, but one of the main ideas i tried hammering in when it came to ‘you turn me inside out’’s first chapter is her only child syndrome. she’s very lonely but still incredibly doted on. growing up, i feel viserys made certain to tell everyone how much he expects of rhaenyra solely because that’s his only child. not because of what she can do or who she is as an individual away from him. i’ve always really liked the idea of how viserys names her his heir or focuses on how rhaenyra will take on his role in the family as the next generations successor is not because he actually believes in her, but because he’s already talked it into existence. it’s why he doesn’t really prep her or genuinely take the time to spend time with her. if he says it will be, then it must because the whole world’s watching and he can’t look like an idiot if rhaenyra fails. very much more of that in the prequel and impending sequels…

daemon and his relationship with the kids.

jace understands that daemon is his stepfather, the person who his mother chose to be with after harwin and eventually got cheated on, but he ultimately holds his tongue because he understands that he is baela’s father. she’s the one allowed to be mad and angry while he takes the more adult approach. luke was away at driftmark when rhaenyra and dameon married so, he doesn’t hold a really weighted opinion on him other than he was a great paternal figure with how he gifted him his cello and treats the littles, especially with visenya and her disability. joff is just angry about how daemon was the main father figure he grew up with even if he’s laenor’s favorite and then all the things coming to light. definitely one of those ‘i used to idolize you and you let me down’ moments aemond and lucerys talk about when it comes to their family. all the littles (aegon iii, viserys ii, and visenya) just know their parents love each other still but can’t stand one another anymore. when i was editing legacies, i forgot that in the scene for chapter 5 when aemond and luke start speaking in high valryian in front of visenya, she becomes immediately curious and luke alludes to how she’ll become angry if she doesn’t know what’s being said. i added that detail because i feel like rhaenyra and daemon would argue in high valyrian so the kids don’t understand/can't keep up with what’s being said, even though they can clearly see the tension. as for baela and rhaena, it is similar but different. both are very unsettled and repulsed by their father being with nettles because maybe i’m the only one who thought it was weird but: nettles is their age, with their similar phenotypes, and is a dragon rider so most likely related to them. i'm not saying in this fic that nettles is daemon's daughter, but there are clear parallels between his children with laena and her. i also feel the twins have become women who have grown out of that similar idolization period with their father to notice his patterns of getting with a young girl, having kids with her, and when times get too tough— leaves her to then repeat the process. baela is more outward and direct with her disdain about it while rhaena internalizes it. more of that will be covered in the legacies sequels, since the rhaenicent continuation will be in rhaenyra’s pov following that whole ordeal.

face and voice claims.

for lucerys, i mostly reference kurt cobain’s style of singing and combine that with his face claim, timothée chalamet. i’ve always felt luke has a deep voice even from what the actor portrays on screen, so something that sounds very low but can pitch high if strained. so yeah, kurt ('been a son' is lucerys writing about rhaenyra but anyways). daeron’s voice claim is indeed damon albarn’s and i felt this direction was kind of funny to have. damon's accent really comes through so daeron being the only singer with a thick brit voice i felt could tie back to how he studied music in oldtown and the technique taught there is also another thing that differs him from his family. in legacies i envision daeron as the ever popular face claim lucas lynggaard tønnesen. rhaena’s face claim is taylor russell (my love) and her voice claim is Beatrice Laus (beabadoobee, my other love). cregan was written before the actor was introduced so i said his face claim was jaime flatters which i still feel fits right with legacies. dalton greyjoy is young aaron paul and i feel with his voice claim, i could get away with some gerard way. for rhaenyra and alicent’s voice claims though, i always felt like fiona apple fit rhae and mitski for alicent. again though, we’ll have more of that in the future. 

rhaenyra’s upbringing.

a lot of the ideas you listed actually all factor into why rhaenyra was pretty wild during her teenage to young adult years. she grew up in the scene, at clubs, surrounded by adults smoking and drinking and partying and being this little kid who is essentially her parents’ party trick. like ‘oh look at little rhaenyra pretending she’s doing shots’ kind of thing when she should’ve been at home in bed. it’s what she’s used to and feel like she’s born for. daemon is also another addition to it as he only encourages her, which is one of my favorite key points in the prequel. and of course, with aemma’s death, rhaenyra goes off the deep end. she’s surrounded by the same people her father is, which are yes-men who will feed into anything she wants. i’ve always liked how rhaenyra antis are like ‘she was so entitled’. it’s like yeah, any 15 year old with the world at their fingertips, surrounded by people her entire life who make her feel she can do no wrong as ’the realm’s delight’ would probably be a spoiled diva. targs have done worse.

the worst legacies universe targaryen scandals.

honestly, i’ve only barely started making a dent into world-building before the young rhaenicent period as i’m writing rhaenys/corlys’ little story so i haven’t given it much thought. i feel like though in the previous periods, since social media wasn’t around and especially with jaehaerys and alysanne’s children, not a lot of them became musicians and their dirty laundry wasn’t aired out. i have aemon written as holding an army job which i feel also allows for the family to have larger ties to political aspects of westeros in the same way some actual celebrities do. hence if maegor did do all the things we know he does also in this timeline, the targs are probably well connected enough to have it forgotten about/utilize public stunts to move on. i feel like legacies really embodies the idea of a modern take of ‘the dance’ without the aegon vs rhaenyra succession plot since even though there’s so many musicians in the family and they should be at their peak, there’s all this internal affair happening with scandal and wondering who the leak is.

laena & laenor.

oh, how i think about those two. in ‘all apologies’ i wrote about how they’re basically ghosts in the house, just shells of themselves. they still reside on driftmark and live with their parents and teach music, but are incredibly burnt out. laena is sober and constantly battling addiction after overdosing and nearly dying + other things while laenor is trying to lead a quiet life after being married to rhaenyra. i don’t know if i mentioned it in the actual fics, but with how everyone knows laenor is gay, it wasn’t on his terms. he was outed and harassed on a national level which does a lot to a person, especially one without a clear support system. so when it comes to trying to intervene with the cycle of things (lucerys’ treatment) they’re pretty much rendered powerless. they know baela and lucerys are the substitutes of what their parents wanted them to become, which also adds another level of fuckery to their dynamics. but what i want to highlight is that a lot of the direct and seen abuse is mental (the physicality comes from how the kids' bodies sort of break down after practicing for so long or being neglected in order to prioritize perfection), and the person it's normalized from would be corlys (as it happens to be with baela). so rhaenys being how she is with luke is almost seen as a lesser pain and uncharted territory since she’s laenor and laena’s safer option. she's never been that way with anyone and so they don't see it as concerning as it actually is. they especially don't say anything since what happens is behind closed doors and not for long since rhaenys teaches luke when he’s 15-19, as well as because he’s corlys’ heir. he’s fitting into the mold fine, so they see stepping in as possibly messing up lucerys’ future the way they did to their own (for now at least). 

hope i covered most of the questions without veering off too much!

#lucemond #fic: legacies #ao3 #offsasks

[icharchivist]

So I listened to Existence today while doing some things and it really made me think about two parts in particular

The birth of a new King; oh my lonely friend

Come witness my new form

Witness the sight and what would you think?

Would you kneel for me?

Or would you go mad with jealousy?

Neither is my wish;

but whatever happens to you will satisfy me

So we all know his Lonely Friend he's addressing throughout the song is Lucilius which is so...

But at this point he's like "So when I reach my goal, are you gonna worship me or are you gonna be jealous?" like he doesn't know the answer. In which universe would Lucilius bend the knee? But what's really making me think is the "neither is my wish" part. So what is his wish then? What does Beelzebub's ideal Lucilius reaction to him becoming the Supreme King look like?

He doesn't want him to get jealous and he doesn't want him to worship him, which is a surprise.

The second part that made me think is a bit later, but it might provide an answer. It's:

What kind of dreams did you dream?

Would you tell me, maybe I'll make them come true

Once again, Beelzebub is being incredibly and almost shockingly gay here.

The dreams could be referring to just Lucilius's dreams and aspirations, his recurring Sahar nightmares or even what he experienced while he was dead, but I think it's the former.

But I feel like he's not very subtly asking Lucilius to join him here. No jealousy and no worship; equals.

Lovers, perhaps?

He's offering to make his dreams come true, he's constantly addressing him throughout the song, looking out for him, asking Lucilius to look at him...

What is it about the feral mad science twink that has everyone up in arms? Is it because he's so unattainable? I think it's because he's so unattainable. And he barely ever reacts to anything, so you can easily project your ideal Lucilius onto him.

So basically my thesis is that Beelzebub is madly in love with Lucilius and wants to become king and then have Lucilius by his side and rule together. He's showing off a strangely romantic side to himself and showing that he's not completely self-centered. But "either will satisfy me" also implies that he's going to be fine, regardless of how Lucilius responds to his offer. Because he'll still be king. He hopes to have Lucilius by his side in the end, to surpass him and then extend a hand and lift him to his level, but he's fine with that not happening, unlike Belial, who is going to explode if Lucilius doesn't start paying attention to him.

Anyway, Beelzebub/ Lucilius is a really great rivals-to-one-sided-crush story. I still don't understand why everyone is in love with Lucilius though.

oh god Existence makes me think so unwise all the time, glad to see your thoughts about it!

Yeah i'm with you completely on the gay part of the song because holy shit Bubs what the hell.

I agree, i do think Bubs wants them to be equals in some way. if Beelzebub sees himself as the King of Kings, maybe he wants Lucilius to be his Queen of Queens (in the initial royalty sense of the distinction, not exactly in the gendered sense)

For what it's worth i do think Bubs have the most reasons to actually be madly in love with Lucilius in some way, because they are more alike than anyone else in a way?

i mean they're both clones to higher beings. if Lucilius was plagued by dreams of Sahar's life and it drove him to insanity, it's likely Bubs may at least have had some feelings regarding Shalem's life. Maybe not as detailled as Lucilius (i could easily imagine that Shalem having been locked away in slumber could have subdued their bond a little compared to Cilius/Sahar, though, obviously, i have no proof either way), but Bubs must have felt just like him that he didn't belong with the Astrals nor with the Skies.

Bubs supported Lucilius's experiments and everything and imo i think it comes from a keen understanding that neither of them belong *here*, but wherever they belong to, it's together, because their experience is similar.

And i think it's why also Beelzebub knows he doesn't want Lucilius to be jealous of him or worship him. Because he knows that Lucilius and his existence are too similar, and that they existed on a level that wasn't one of the astrals or the mortals.

I don't even know if Bubs realizes just how incredibly in love he sounds. But yeah ultimately i do think it's really because Bubs at least feels a pure kinship with Lucilius in term of who they are, even if they can't put it into words, and he can't shake the idea that he belongs with him in some way.

I feel like Lucilius is not at all feeling the same way though. Lucilius is much more self centered in general and he only focuses on the horrors of his vision and i don't think he cares much about the fact Bubs has a similar experience to him, aside from the fact that it just proves his theory that there's something wrong and it's not just in his head.

That's why also i think it's possible that, with Shalem being asleep and Sahar not, Lucilius just had access to the flow of Sahar's memories much more than Bubs had of Shalem, so Lucilius probably focused more on his own sense of identity spilling away and therefore a more selfish goal to keep it all intact for himself, while Bubs could have just focused just on the vagueness of his feelings as Shalem clone enough to still be able to connect with Lucilius's distress.

So imo even without the gay reading (which is totally there though), i think the fact the song is called Existence is meant really to bring us to this idea of just. Bubs is aware their existences are different from anyone else in the skies. They have similar dreams, probably, the same dreams about being almost gods, and they were equal, or at least, they belong together.

For Bubs, that's the truth of who they are.

and with how he also questions about what makes the sky blue and stuff i think it is also showing that he is yearning for answers about his and Lucilius's existence, and that since Lucilius was also yearning for that, their hearts are one and the same.

So yeah Bubs is a pinning bastard in a one sided rivalry with Lucilius.

and my hot take is that actually Bubs has the most reasons to be in love with Lucilius out of anyone else in the cast.

but, just like everyone else, he also needs to raise his standards bc dude, he's never going to treat you well. Lucilius would be the worst of boyfriends. Please Bubs you can do better--

#long post for ts #took me a while to respond to it but i'm just now really back on computer and i have so many thoughts about Existence #just what a song #ichareply #ichafantalks gbf #anonymous

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Skin & Scale (Part 8)

Blue has overcome the entirety of her right arm and leg. It is now dotting her left arm. She still feels sick to her stomach. She hasn’t left her room in quite some time and it is only a matter of time before Zuzu will come to pester her over it. He has been ridiculously insistent on being a good older brother; his guilty mind is rather bothersome to the point where she sometimes wishes that he would go back to resenting her. 

At least then she was allowed to suffer in peace and quiet. 

She is suffering now. And it is quiet so she supposes that she can’t complain too much.

The tips of her fingers throb and it isn’t until the first claw bursts through her skin that she realizes why. For some reason she had imagined that her own nails would simply elongate and it wouldn’t be so awful. 

But nothing is ever quite that easy.

She muffles her own cry and clutches that hand to her chest. And her fingers, minus her newly taloned pinky, dig into her chest as though she can cling onto her humanity for just a little longer if she does.  But the truth is that her metamorphosis is happening at an alarming rate, fast enough that she can’t quite comprehend it, let alone process it. 

And she has to wonder why. 

Why now?

Why when people have finally stopped looking upon her with terror?

She stares at her hands, hands that are caught somewhere between human and dragon. Right now she is suspended, caught in an awkward and lonely in between; she can’t go to the dragons because they don’t want a human child and she can’t turn to the humans because she isn’t human enough. People don’t empathize or love things with claws and scales, not when they have a human shape to make them uncanny–a dreadful imitation of what they know, a perversion to what they are comfortable with.

And dragons don’t empathize or love things that look dreadfully close to the creatures that had nearly wiped them out. Even if those things also bear resemblance to them. 

When it comes down to it there is a plain and simple truth, a fact of life; things that are different are things that need to be strong enough to survive on their own because they will be outcast. People can’t even process the concept of a half Fire Nation, half Water Tribe or Earth Kingdom child, let alone someone like her. 

Her mind is getting messy again, warping and twisting itself in a way that makes her queasy. She has to keep herself together. She can’t let herself break again, not like before and certainly not at this time. 

But she has thoughts and so many of them all flowing around in her head. 

She studies her hands, those blue scaly hands that are becoming substantially closer to claws. She stares at them as though they will offer her answers. As though they can tell her how she should feel. As though they can help her decide which of her two dominating and conflicting thoughts is the most appropriate.

In the wake of the initial shock comes a sense of catharsis. Some strange sort of relief that she can’t quite place. Not until her head is back on her pillow and she is staring at the curtains draped around her bed. As it often happens, it is when she lies awake that it all seems to come together. That things start to make sense. 

It is both cutting and depressing to know with certainty that mother never loved her, never connected or bonded with her. And to finally have a reason why. Of course Ursa felt no connection, no obligation or sense of maternal duty. She wasn’t rasing her own child. Wasn’t even raising a child. Azula is, by definition, a monster and mother…Ursa had tried to tell her as much. 

It makes sense and there is a relief in that. 

In knowing that no matter what she could have said or done, she would have never been cherished in the same way that Zuko was. 

It is why it had been so easy for father to use her. 

That’s why he had snatched her up in the first place–to secure a formidable weapon. 

He must have been so disappointed when a little baby girl emerged from the egg instead of a dragon. 

If that’s what happened at all.

She isn’t quite ready to ponder upon the exact circumstances surrounding her hatching or her transformation or whatever it had been that had given her the skin she wears for the time being.

The same clarity and understanding brings comfort in other areas; put kindly, she has always had her quirks. She has always had her oddities and mannerisms that seemed to set her apart. A different, colder and mistrustful mentality. A value of logic and glory over emotion and relationships. She has her habits and her peculiarities that have been rather securely and admirably concealed until relatively recently when she had started letting people in. Sometimes they still look at her perplexed. Even if they don’t say them out loud, she knows that they reserve their own thoughts and opinions. 

At least she knows why now. Why she won’t particularly fit in. It isn’t as though she had wanted to anyhow, at least that is what she tells herself. 

It makes her feel better. 

But not nearly as better as the prospect of having parents that love her enough to ravage great nations and empires to get her back.

She wipes the tears off of her cheeks. 

To have anyone really, that can love her unconditionally. Love her without even knowing who she is. 

For a flicker she dreads that they won’t like what they come upon and she will be left feeling a much deeper sense of unlovability. 

That thought is fleeting, overwhelmed by the sense of relief that comes with knowledge. The relief that comes with knowing why she has the inclinations that she does. Relief that comes with knowing that she has a real family.

All the same, there is the second emotion. 

The one that has always been central and significant in her life–defining even. 

Fear.

There is so much of it. There always has been but now it is nagging and persistent, ruthlessly so. It comes from many places. The transformation itself, for one. It is already terribly painful, the aches and sharp pangs. The bursting of claws through her scales. The blood, still a very human red, is crusting in the crevices in her scales. 

She can already feel four other clawtips poised to puncture free. She is going to bleed. 

She is going to bleed a lot. 

She has already bled so much…

The erupting of claws is agonizing enough, those small bursts. Surely the wings will rip her apart. They will split and destroy her human skin–maybe the entirety of her human body. 

And that aching in her bones. The stretching and pulling. The elongating. What if her flesh and muscles don’t grow with them? What if there is a fluke in her transformation?

It can kill her.

Somehow it hadn’t occurred to her, until now, that this transformation might be her demise. That her human body might not be able to withstand it. If her human body had been late to bloom then it might be too small to handle a different kind of blooming. 

Maybe she will live.

She has a rather solid feeling that she will. And if she does, what is her life going to be like then? Perhaps it isn’t the greatest now but she is still human. She knows vaguely what to do with that. She could pick up the pieces and make herself a new path–she is in the middle of that. This? This is different, unpredictable and daunting. 

She has been human her whole life.

And now she is not.

She knows how a human body works. How to operate it, how to care for it. How to maintain it and keep it fit and ferocious. 

She knows how to care for a dragon as a human but not how to care for a dragon as a dragon. And that is if all of the scrolls and recounts are factually accurate. 

She knows, more or less, how to function as a human being and how to pretend when she doesn’t. She knows nothing of functioning as a dragon. She imagines a shaky and unstable gait and a whole lot of size related clumsiness. She’ll be helpless.

She needs her parents. 

Her real parents. 

She nuzzles into her nest of pillows and blankets and bunches herself up. 

She needs her parents but she is far too weak and pained to even think about taking a trip all the way to the Sun Warriors’ temple. She’ll have to go through this one alone…

There is a knock on her door.

Sometimes she still forgets that she won’t be alone. They might not understand or know how to help her but their attempts count for something, she supposes.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Dragon Azula #Fanfiction

[asirensrambles]

Rescuing Reyes

Gabriel Reyes didn't expect a rescue, he'd made his peace with death.   When his men come for him, he's surprised, and prepares for the worst.

Gabriel had lost all track of time between the drugging and the torture.  The enhancements made him burn through anything they put in his system faster than most.  It healed up the torture quicker too, but that just meant his captors could start over again fresh.  However long he'd been captive though, Gabriel hadn't broken. Hadn't given up a thing except a string of insults and swears in a truly impressive number of languages.  He was fairly certain his days were numbered.  The blur of tormentors were asking fewer and fewer questions, not really expecting answers to them either.  Whoever had grabbed him would probably make a great show Gabriel's death, make it a real spectacle to drive home their message. 

At this point, Gabriel spent more of his time unconscious than not.   Trying to stay awake was too much effort, and usually not worth the pain that brought.  He barely noticed the cell door opening and closing.   The sound of footsteps vaguely filtered to his ears.  The feeling of his restraints being released for the first time since he was captured yanked him to full consciousness, the details of the room and it's occupants crystallizing into focus.  

There was one Blackwatch operative by the torture table he was on, another two posted up by the door to his cell, one watching each direction of the hall.  Probably more operatives further down their escape path.  The operative by the table effortlessly hoisted Gabriel onto their shoulders in a fireman's carry.  

"Commander is secure, making our way to the extraction point,"  they said.

Gabriel didn't hear the response.  It felt quite undignified to be hoisted like a sack of potatoes, but it made sense.  He was in no condition to move on his own, especially quickly.  The operatives wasted no time in moving toward the extraction point.  Gabriel took a moment to be proud of their form as his operatives moved quickly yet silently through the corridors.  He was fairly certain a very loud, very impressive force of fire power was being displayed elsewhere in the stronghold as a distraction.  

Something must have gone sideways with the distraction though, because the rescue team started to sprint, abandoning any attempts at stealth.  It was a race against the clock and hostile forces at this point.  Gabriel found himself praying for the first time in over a decade.  He'd never prayed so hard or desperately in his life.  Not for himself, not for his own life, but rather for the lives of the others who were risking theirs for him.  These were Gabriel's people, he knew them inside and out.  For that reason, he knew none of them would hesitate to lay down their lives for him.  He didn't want that, couldn't stand for it to happen. Nothing about Gabriel was more important than the people rescuing him.  It wasn't right that they should die so he could live.

Apparently Gabriel was more out of it than he thought, the operatives had made it to a courtyard in the compound by now.  Across the expanse was a lone transport.  That was their way out.  

"Approaching extraction point, prepare for suppressing fire," one of the operatives said.  

Gabriel felt a surge of pride at his people's planning and foresight in this mission.  Funny the things your brain focuses when it thinks it's near death.  Noises started filtering down the corridor, rapidly getting louder.

"On my mark, initiate suppressing fire," the same operative motioned for the group to stand by.  They held up an open hand, silently counting down.  When the hand closed, all ground operatives began sprinting for the transport, weaving and zig zagging across the open courtyard.  They were a quarter of the way across when the command was given,

"Initiate suppressing fire!"

Behind and around them, shots blanketed the area.  For the first time since being captured, Gabriel thought that he just might make it out of this experience alive.  He mercilessly shoved that thought down.  Right now, hope was too costly a luxury.  The end of an op had the highest chance of things going sideways.

Things didn't though.

All ground operatives made it onto the transport.  All support vessels disengaged.  All members of the distraction assault made it back safe.

It was a one in a million kind of mission, people said.  Gabriel Reyes always was the luckiest bastard Blackwatch had ever known.   Everyone agreed it was uncanny how smoothly the mission had gone.  No one outright said what it was though.

A miracle.

The first Sunday after being discharged from the medical bay, Gabriel Reyes did something he hadn't done since joining the military.

He went to mass.

#overwatch #overwatch fic #gabriel reyes #my writing #gen gabriel reyes #overwatch 2 #i guess #this spun out of an angstier idea #reyes just really wanted to live this round #we'll see if he's as lucky next time lol

[clouseplayssims]

Up next: the MacIver’s (+ one lone Bellamy)

So, when they were first oh so graciously banished by Arndt Blumenthal to the open plains that became Penrith, Gioia Bellamy, Mirella Drago, and Remy Bellamy were all one household. Later Mirella married a foreign count who had entered the area named Eldon MacIver and they now have one son, Colin.

Mirella is actually Ursula Drago’s sister-in-law, but they haven’t spoken since shortly after the war ended. Initially because Ursula was imprisoned but now because she wouldn’t dare do anything to risk her son’s reputation and that includes socializing with the exiles. Technically, any crime they were accused of they have been forgiven... but there’s no way Arndt still isn’t watching them closely.

Which is just as well, because Mirella never much cared for Ursula. She felt she was too tainted by trade and beneath her brother. (Please note, Mirella IS monolidded, I forgot and put on eyeshadow that has a lid and in theory I’ll remember to take it off next time. That’s why Colin has a monolid!)

NOW.

Relationship-wise, Eldon is not exactly the man he presented himself as being. After the marriage Mirella discovered he wasn’t “exploring” and “visiting” the area but was actually banished from his homeland, much like those inhabiting Penrith form Edirann. His title remains intact, but he’s never allowed to return. Then there’s the matter of his character which is much, much darker than she ever could have known.

But Mirella isn’t one to give up easily. He might not be the man she expected to marry, but she has a good life, she is now a bit of a herbalist in the neighborhood, learning more and more about healing with each passing day. She’s still a bit absent-minded, she always was, and despite the contradiction of her nature (she’s a very sensual woman, it must be said) Mirella is also rather religious.

Little Colin is a fresh new-to-me sim, but so far I think he’s delightful! He’s not always aware of how to behave in any given situation (which, considering his parents... it was bound to happen) and is very obsessed with being flawless at everything, so time will tell how he grows up.

Gioia has since passed, but her grandson Remy continues to live with Mirella. Remy’s very existence is... complex. He was born during the war, to a very young, young teen girl in a situation that was not of her making. You can fill in the blanks. Remy’s birth caused Lucrece’s death which made his relationship with his grandmother incredibly strained. Though she kept him, he knew early on that the sight of him caused her pain. Mirella actually raised him, for the most part, being an unrelated party.

#kingdom of edirann #Mirella MacIver #Eldon MacIver #Colin MacIver #remy bellamy

[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

I posted 4,676 times in 2022

That's 4,654 more posts than 2021!

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Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 3,987 of my posts in 2022

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i think my favorite thing about the ep is how even when they’re going through it the love they have for each other is palpable every second

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Just thinking about married TK and Carlos with their wedding rings and the way I'm going to become unhinged every time I catch a glimpse of one of them in any scene.

57 notes - Posted July 26, 2022

#4

58 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

#3

"Tyler, can I say yes now" is playing on a loop in my brain. It's been three days, but this is where I am.

68 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

#2

I got to 2x04 last night in my Lone Star rewatch, and all I can think about now is my overwhelming need for some Carlos backstory. I NEED to know more about his past and his family. I really want some information about his past relationships, what growing up was like for him, more about his extended family, and really anything and everything Carlos-related. I'm especially fascinated with his relationship with his parents. There's clearly so much love there, and we see his parents lovingly supporting him in the show. I love Gabriel and Andrea so much, but I really want to know how they got to the point where Carlos felt like he had to hide important parts of his life from them to not "rub their noses in it." Did they change over the years or were they just really bad at communicating? And I also want to see Carlos's feelings on this now, particularly as he gets ready to marry the love of his life with complete love and support from his parents, something I have to imagine Carlos didn't think he would get to have for much of his life. We are perfectly positioned to get some (or all) of this in season 4, so I really hope the show delivers!!

71 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I just finished up the ice storm arc in my Lone Star rewatch. As a result, I've been thinking a lot about the breakup and wondering what was going through TK's and Carlos' minds during that time.

Obviously, TK was the one who walked out, but you know he broke his own heart along with Carlos' when he did it. I imagine that TK probably regretted his actions fairly quickly. At least a part of him must have wanted to fix things, but I could see him being afraid of being rejected by Carlos if he tried. TK "blew it up" because things seemed so perfect and then his insecurities came creeping in, triggered by the reminder of his past mistakes in the form of his bad credit. (Also a reminder of how his past mistakes can still hurt him in the present, and perhaps even affect Carlos so maybe Carlos would be better off without him.) Because of this, I can see the fear of Carlos outright rejecting him being enough to stop him from trying to reach out, even when he must have inevitably realized that he did the wrong thing in walking out.

When I previously watched these episodes, I got the impression that Carlos had initially tried to reach out to TK because Carlos references in 2x02 TK not wanting to talk to him until he's in the ICU. ("Typical TK. First time that he wants to talk to me in months and, of course, it's because he's in the ICU.") I took that to mean that Carlos tried to talk to TK but TK wouldn't respond. But maybe Carlos didn't reach out. In previous seasons, Carlos never really chases TK. He's there when TK is ready, but he lets TK come to him. I could see Carlos doing that again, only this time, TK never comes back. Just thinking about Carlos sitting alone in the loft he bought for the two of them, waiting for TK to come back so they can make up, but he doesn't, so Carlos eventually just tells himself that it's over and he has to accept that..."you have to know when a thing is over." 😭

And if Carlos never reached out to TK (or even if he initially reached out and then gave up when he didn't get a response), I could definitely see TK misreading that and feeling like he was sure to be rejected if he tried to reach out to Carlos. I could see TK feeling like, as horrible as things were in the moment, it would be just too much to bear for the love of his life to tell him to get out if he tried to go make up. So he just didn't go and the longer they went without speaking, the harder it would be for either of them to make the first move.

Anyway, just torturing myself by writing angsty missing moment fanfiction in my mind instead of getting work done. Typical Monday afternoon.

137 notes - Posted August 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#😂😂😂 #this year in review very clearly shows where my priorities are #yeah sounds about right

[camelotsheart]

I was in the process of making a gifset and got hit on the head with Arthur & Mordred feels, so here’s a small one for you.

#LOOK AT THEM THEY'RE SO SOFT I WANT TO CRY #ARTHUR LOOKS LIKE A PROUD BIG BROTHER #MORDRED HAS THE GOOFIEST SMILE ON HIS FACE HE CAN'T BELIEVE HE JUST BEAT ARTHUR IN A DUEL #HE'S HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE. HE MUST HAVE FELT SO LONELY INITIALLY BEING A DRUID #AND HOW HE'S LOOKING AT ALL THE KNIGHTS - HIS BROTHERS - AND SEES THAT MAYBE HE FINALLY BELONGS HERE #MAYBE THE TIME WHERE ARTHUR WILL ACCEPT HIM FOR ALL THAT HE IS WILL COME SOON #WHY DID THEY HAVE TO GO AND KILL EACH OTHER #THEY WERE SUCH A WHOLESOME DUO #I'M NOT OKAY

[elias-code]

The Swine’s Scribe

Characters: c!Technoblade x gn!reader, an appearance by Philza

Background: You're in Techno's cabin after getting the rest of his wolves from L’Manburg after the second war. You were originally rescued by Techno from a blizzard after running from the first L'Manburg explosion (your house was among those destroyed.)

Summary: When Techno gets back from the second L'Manburg war, he lets go of a lot of emotions by ranting to you. You, being concerned about his mental wellbeing, ask if you can do anything for him, and eventually, he kisses you, which leads to some close-calls with Phil and a whole lot of smut and fluff.

Wordcount: 3291 (according to google docs lmao)

Warnings: NSFW, swearing, blood/wounds, biting, getting caught

I REPEAT NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

-------------------------------- Enjoy :) ----------------------------------

Ever since Techno brought you in from the cold months ago, you've been doing little chores for him in a way to repay his kindness. Even though he was the one who summoned the withers after the initial explosions, you felt safe around him. It had been hard to get used to at first, but now you felt comforted by his presence.

For the past week, you've been writing his journal for him after he broke his hand sparring with Phil. His hand has since healed, but you insisted that you do it for him, and he put up little protest.

"It was stressful, seeing your friends leave like that, in the blink of an eye. I don't trust anyone anymore, not after Tommy betrayed me. I gave him a roof over his head, hid him from Dream, one of the most powerful people on the server, AND I trusted him with my Axe of Peace." Technoblade's tone was strained and he let out a huff.

"Techno," you empathised, "are you sure you're okay after today?"

"I'm fine, please keep writing." He only ever said please when he was really serious, clearly, he was not interested in talking.

"Now, I refuse to bow to the voices. They want blood and I won't let them. Too many allies have died for me or have disappeared onto the other side, only to reemerge when they need ME, never when I need THEM."

Again, you piped in, "Techno, you're clearly not ok," his pale skin was flushed red and his eyebrows knit together into a grimace, "If there's anything I can do to help, please tell me."

He went silent.

"You don't have to talk about it if it's really getting to you... Or you could let it out. Either way, I'm here to help," You said.

"I'll think about it. For now, keep writing,"

For another half hour, he ranted about the destruction of L'Manburg and his dramatic reenactment was accented by occasional yelling and hand gestures. Suddenly, he stops speaking and gets a puzzled look on his face, "Um, what- what's the correct phrasing for - I guess - 'horny for violence'?" The tips of his ears were bright red, matching the blush now forming on his cheeks.

You chuckle, "I think it's hungry for violence..."

"Ah, that's it," Techno states, and then he completed his recounting of events. There's a bubble of silence in the air and he bursts it by asking, "Do you have any thoughts?"

"You know my thoughts, Techno..."

"I think I know, but give me words, I can't read minds."

"You're not healthy, you need help. You need better friends and a proper support system. Right now you really only have Phil, and I guess me if I even count."

"You count."

Now it was your turn to blush, but you continue, "Either way, that's not enough! You deserve more than you're getting. I can tell that even without the things you've had me write down. You're carrying so much weight, Tech."

"I didn't know you cared," he seems touched by your words, "I suppose I don't know a whole lot about you."

"And yet, you trust me with your deepest, darkest secrets, Technoblade."

"One thing I can trust you to do is help me with my armour."

He was still wearing the enchanted netherite chestplate and pants, both of which you started fumbling with. The leather straps were clasped tightly, as to not come off in battle, but you managed to manoeuvre them enough to get them to let go.

As the chestplate was lifted off of him, he hissed and then grunted. You look at the spot his hand flew to on his back, where his shirt had torn to reveal a big gash in his shoulder. It ran from his shoulder blade to his left pec, one of the only places where he was unarmoured.

"Holy shit Tech, why didn't you tell me this was here?!"

"I didn't want to worry you," He chuckled and then hissed again, "I guess that plan failed."

You did not find it funny. You immediately went to get the supplies Phil kept in his house, knowing that Techno didn't keep anything but healing potions in his chests. Phil was eager to help and he handed some bandages and rubbing alcohol to you so you could clean the wound. You also grabbed a spare scrap of leather for him to bite down on.

When you returned, Techno had moved to sit on his bed where he had already removed the greaves and discarded them beside him. You came to his side, putting down the alcohol, rag, and bandage.

"This is probably going to hurt, so I need you to bite down on this," you said, handing him the leather scrap.

"Ok," he said, watching you grab the alcohol and rag from the floor, "Just- just tell me when,"

"Alright," He put the leather in between his teeth, biting lightly, "you ready?"

He nodded, you put the alcohol rag onto the blood-crusted gash. He let out a sharp, low hiss, tightening his jaw on the leather to release some of the pain. You cleaned up quickly to minimise the pain and then wrapped it in the bandage, leaving some so you could clean and replace it later.

"All done, you ok?" You looked at him, one of his eyes was watering.

"Yeah, the pain's much worse when you're not pumped full of adrenaline."

"You better not be hiding any more gashes under all of those clothes,"

"Wanna find out?" He flashed you a smirk, amused by his own confidence.

"I'll take your word for it, but you're going to need to change that shirt, it's covered in blood."

"At least it's not my blood," you shivered a bit at that remark and helped him take his shirt off, careful not to remove the fresh bandages along with it.

For the first time, you saw him without a shirt off. He seemed surprisingly slender for being as strong as he is. There were numerous scars that etched every battle and lesson learned into his skin. Lots of them looked older than you expected and you suddenly realised that he must have been fighting for a long time before coming to the server.

"Like what you see?" he asked, and you rushed to put the shirt down and find an excuse.

"Um, I- I was just looking at your scars, I'll bring this downstairs,"

You rushed away, turning bright red, embarrassed that he had noticed your stares. You absent-mindedly tossed the shirt into the 'wash pile' and then you remembered, in your rush, you had forgotten his greaves. With a huff, you climbed the ladder back to his room.

Techno sat in front of the fireplace, now roaring with renewed vigour from the log he'd tossed in. His pink hair had been undone from the messy braid he had put in that morning. It was almost dyed red and black by the blood and soot in it. He was playing with it, picking out debris and running his fingers through the more knotted bits.

“Tech?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you, still fiddling with the hair in his hands.

You sat down next to him and he relaxed into a cross-legged position, with one knee tucked under his chin. His free hand is right next to yours and he doesn’t look at you. His face is red, probably from the fire.

“You looked like you were in a trance? Are you ok?”

Silence filled the room again,"

“You don’t have to tell me but just know I’m here if you need to talk. Obviously, I haven’t tattled about anything yet or Tommy and the Butchers would be knocking your door down by now.”

“The voices are quieter than normal. I can hear myself think.”

You try to be encouraging “So? What are you thinking about?”

He looks you in the eyes, they’re deep, his pupils adjusting makes you feel like he’s looking into your soul.

“Um, I’m not sure you’d want to know.”

You frown and protest since you’re now more curious than ever but still a bit freaked out. "C'mon now you've got me curious,"

Techno looked away, solemnly gazing at the fire “I meant what I said about you being a trusted friend. I don't get many of those so, thanks. As for why this is coming up now, well, I guess I’m lonely.”

You hesitated, “Me too, Tech. You're kind of the only one I trust, and I guess Phil, too, but I'd trust you with my life.”

He blushes, looks away, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear before turning back to you and putting his hand on yours.

You immediately flush and you see a grin seep onto his face.

"I'm not really talking about friends anymore. I want... someone..." he almost whispers

"You mean?" he nods, "I guess I've never had anyone before. I think it'd be nice to see what it'd be like."

“I think we can kill two birds with one stone here, don’t you?”

Now you're both bright red, nervous, schoolkids who gingerly lean into each other's faces, gaze fixed on the other's lips. Your hearts beat hard while your brains rush to make sure you feel insecure, the voices in Techno's mind screaming excitedly.

“You good up there Techno? Your light is still on, it's far past midnight, mate!” Phil shouts from the bottom of the ladder.

“I’m fine, just," He pulls away from you, "reading. Goodnight Phil,”

Techno's ears perk up to listen to the receding footsteps. You’re both standing now, he's standing over the trapdoor, making sure Phil had gone. Once he was sure, he comes over and kisses you hard.

“Tech-"

“Is this ok? I’m not doing anything wrong am I?”

You think He’s clearly never done this before, as you respond "Yeah, I like it..." you continue, stumbling towards his bed where you’re initially just kissing like two teenagers as if it were your first time, desperate, but awkward.

Your hand was pressing against his chest as you laid next to him, tasting each other's spit, learning the ropes since neither of you had ever done this before.

The light from the fire made your shadows dance across the wall, arms moving to hold each other closer, legs wrapping around Techno's, bodies shifting so he's on top of you. Only the roar and crackle of the fire and the occasional grunt or gasp from you or Techno could be heard.

--- Smut begins here ---

As you both part to take a breath, he pulls your shirt over his head. When he leans into the crook of your neck, you notice the tent in his pants pressing against your inner thigh. In between your own legs, there was a pool of slick forming.

You moan, loud, fully knowing that would send Techno wild. He pushes further towards you and holds your arms above your head so he could press his mouth against your neck, leaving red, hot, sticky marks leading from your collarbone to your abdomen.

You're both panting as he lets go of your arms and you wrap them around his neck, pulling his head in for a long, deep kiss. His hot breath warms your cheeks as he repositions himself.

"Hey, is this still ok?" He asks between breaths.

"Abso-fucking-lutely,"

He fully loses himself, taking his hand from your cheek and moving it to your pants, never losing eye contact. You nod and he pushes his hand into the spot between your legs which was now drenched in slick. He found his way to your hole and pushed his index finger into it, creating a sensation you'd never felt before.

Instinctually, you gasp and then moan, harder than before. You rock your hips to his rhythm while he continues to press bruises into your torso. Eventually, he brings his face back to yours and kisses you. You let out another moan into his mouth. He grunts and then chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling his finger out and then going back in with two.

Now, you're whining, pulling on his long, pink hair. You notice everything in those moments, his rhythmic breaths into your neck and pumping of his finger in and out of your sex, his other hand holding your waist, pushing upwards to caress you, his soft hair in your hand.

"Is it my turn now?" He gruffs.

You hum in affirmation as he pulls away and you kick off your pants as he undoes his own. You immediately notice his size. Compared to his fingers, which were pretty long and thick, to begin with, due to his big hands, his member was a giant. His hand that had previously been half inside of you was now working his dick, its head coated in pre-cum.

While you had seen other penises before, mostly in study, you had never seen one up close, and you'd only seen ones on humans. The hybrid piglin-shapeshifter was sporting a human-like head and shaft, 9 inches (at least) all the way down to a knot... he had a knot...

He notices you gaping at his dick and grins, leaning into you again. "Wanna help me with this, or... should I help m'self?"

Eager to please, you lightly push him forward so you're both sitting up while your hand inspects the new acquaintance. You look up at Techno for guidance. He nods and pushes your hand down with his own. He guides your hand up and down the shaft until he’s no longer guiding you and you’re doing it all yourself.

He does the same with you. The space between your legs was now, simply put, slippery. He did his best to please you, eventually managing three fingers easily.

The pants and gasps were syncing, the knot in your stomach growing stronger while you danced your mouth on the head of his member. He lets out a particularly loud grunt and removes his fingers from your sex. You suddenly feel empty, and he pushes you over onto your stomach.

He puts himself under you, his dick under your mouth. You lick the ever-present pre-cum off of the head of his dick once again and then begin to bob your head up and down, managing to fit him halfway before choking on him. His groans were now louder than yours, becoming more frequent.

"Ughh- fuck," he moans.

Now he holds your head and gently begins to fuck your mouth. Your bobbing was no longer enough, he wanted more. He thrust his hips into you, managing to get a third of the way into you and then it turns into deepthroating after every thrust.

You gag, unable to take him all the way, and so he decides enough is enough and you both rush to get him inside of you. He gets up, moving to position himself above you. You continue to stay in the position he left you in, on your hands and knees.

"Turn around," Techno says.

And so you do, you lay on your back, full of anticipation and covered in juices. He puts his hand on your stomach, leaning in to kiss you lightly, pressing more red marks into your sides, slowly turning you so you face the wall.

He pulls away and holds your leg away from the other, practically putting you into the splits.

"Techno..." You whisper.

"Hmm?"

"Is this gonna hurt?"

"Dunno, darlin'," He leans in again, "let me know if it gets too hard, ok? I'll stop if you say so."

You nod and kiss for confirmation, reaching to hold your own leg up to give him full access.

He inserts the head and you can already feel the stretch, slightly painful but you push on, your fingers grasping the sheets to keep yourself grounded. He’s pushing into you slowly, making sure you're not getting in over your head. You hold the sheet tighter, groaning from the stretch.

He pulls out slightly and the pressure releases. You moan hard, making sure Techno knows that you like what you feel. He pushes in again and begins to thrust into you. Techno is getting further and further with every thrust, and you moan between every breath. He's three-fifths of the way in and he's only getting harder.

Techno's hand replaces yours, keeping your leg raised as you move your hand to work yourself along with him. Your heart beats faster and he picks up the pace. He can get all the way to the knot before pulling out and thrusting in again.

"Tech... Fuck, it's so gooood..."

Now he's becoming sparattic and his face goes into your neck, biting softly, barely enough for blood to form. The knot in your stomach tightens and you scream into the pillow as he pushes all the way in, his skin hitting yours as his knot slips into you.

He moans and thrusts lightly into you, coming inside of you. You feel the pressure inside of you release as you come with him. You're being filled with his sperm, eventually spilling out along with your own come onto the sheet.

He continues to work you with his hand, breathing heavily into your neck. Your heartbeats are in sync and his juices continue to spill out of you, soaking everything below you. You try to look him in the eye as he shakes slightly, somehow still coming.

"Tech? You're still..." you gasp. "I know, sorry... it might be a while..." He grunts out.

Techno's ears perk up and he shoves you under the blanket, still stuck inside of you with the knot.

"What-"

He puts a hand over your mouth as you quiver underneath him, overstimulated by the pressure and his hand which still rested in between your thighs. What the hell is he doing?! The non-stop cum is weird enough, what-

Soon enough, your questions were answered when you heard the footsteps downstairs.

“Do you have my hat?” Phil's voice yells from the base of the ladder.

“Can't you-" he breathes, "you get it in the morning?”

“No, I'm going out super early tomorrow to scout out and make sure we haven’t been followed back.”

“Uh," fuck "it’s on the chair next to my desk up here? I’m in bed…”

Phil comes up the ladder and opens the hatch, eventually finding his hat while techno covers your mouth and lays belly to belly with you, he’s still dribbling a bit, so are you. You’re whimpering slightly.

Phil stops at the trapdoor. “Did you mean to leave the fire on mate?”

“Uh, yeah I was gonna let it burn… I was cold”

“Where’s your friend, loverboy?”

You feel Techno blush above you, his warmth suddenly radiating out from him.

“Um. They went to trade with some piglins since we’re almost out of spectral arrows.”

“Alright let me know when they get back, I just want to make sure they’re ok. Ever since you found them in the snow you’ve been doing better, it seems. Almost like you two are a... thing?”

The question lingered momentarily and you could almost hear Phil's eyebrow raise before Techno answered.

“Hmm, thank you, Phil. Close the trapdoor when you leave, I don’t want the warmth to leave.”

“Alright.”

Finally, the footsteps were gone. He pulls the blanket off of them and he takes his hand off of your mouth. You gasp for dramatic effect, laughing quietly to yourselves at the close call.

"Can I tell you something?" Techno whispers into your ear.

"Yes, you're literally deep inside of me, I'm guaranteed to be interested in what you have to say,"

"I love you"

"I love you, too..."

#technoblade #dsmp x reader #techno x reader #mcyt smut #dreamsmp #c!technoblade x reader #c!techno #first fic sorry lmao #c!techno x reader #eli scribe #Elias original

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 5

Summary: A very special dinner brings a very special moment for the Darkling and his wife.

Warnings: angst, sexual innuendoes, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four  

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

She felt caught in the riptide, finding it hard to stay upright. As the daughter of a general, Y/N had seen so many evils, so much hurt, yet she never buckled under pressure.

Staring at the empty spot beside her, she laid there while battling shadows in her head. So filled with rage, she wondered who she’s becoming as a part of her longed to feel his touch. Perhaps he was right, she’s a foolish girl who is trying to win a game where the rules are nonexistent.

Having stayed awake most of the previous night, she didn’t expect trouble sleeping. With a heavy sigh, she abandoned the bed they shared – it felt too intimate to remain there now. They’ve only ever kissed and it was never planned nor did it happen in the very bed she felt is so incredibly vast, so lonely and cold when he didn’t stay there with her.

Pacing the room as she saw his shadow do the night before, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he had trouble sleeping alone too. It was less than a full week since they married and she already cursed the smallest part of her that seemed to care for him.

Men are easy to love. A woman’s heart was made to care and love those near her. Mistaking love and trust is what a woman should never do. Love and trust are separate entities, one is given, the other must be earned.

Remembering her mother’s words eased her self-loathing. If she dared to love the Darkling, it wasn’t entirely under her control. Trusting him was different. She wasn’t as naïve as to allow the echoes of her heart dictate what her mind long acknowledged – he isn’t trustworthy.

And as the stars rise in the sky, she paced the room tirelessly. Arguing with herself, she paid no mind to the night sky she loved so much. If she had, Y/N might have realized a man with dark skies for eyes had trouble looking away from her shadow.

Exhausted, Y/N rose with the dawn. She had barely scraped up a few hours of decent sleep, tormented by his words even in dreams.

“Enter”, she yawned as Genya readily walked inside. The maids rushed to the bed, willing to change the bed sheets they couldn’t last time as Y/N had sent them away.

“Stop!” She exclaims as they reach Kirigan’s side of the bed, a slightly panicked look on her face relaying uncontrollable desires she had no chance of understanding.

Frowning, Genya licked her lips. While Y/N wasn’t sure what caused her outburst, she believed to know the root. “Leave us. You will be asked to change the sheets when Y/N desires it.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N turned away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, Genya mussed. “We have a dinner to prepare you for.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N managed a smile, briefly looking to Genya. “I’ll be alone which gives me a perfect chance to find new allies.”

Blinking fast, Genya’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure who could ally with us in the Palace. Everyone’s charmed by our General. If you’d just work with him, they would all be with you too.”

“He works for the emperor.” Y/N reminded her.

Running her hands through her hair, Y/N didn’t know if she could ever trust him enough to tell him the truth. Her plans, her fight, it’s her life’s work. She came into that palace with intention of burning it down. The emperor must die and anyone else who’d fuel the flames of war must perish along with him. The war had claimed her mother’s life, of thousands of humans and Grisha alike, Y/N aimed to end it. And to end it, she had to destroy those who started it, those who refused to implement equality between species, as Kirigan called them. Humans and Grisha must be seen equally worthy, they must ally or they will be exterminated like vermin by surrounding enemies.

She grieved for her mother every day, even now as a decade had passed. Grief is really just love one cannot give to the other. It’s all the unspent love, gathering in the corners of her eyes, the lump in her throat and inside the hollowed heart that’s trying to beat in her chest. If her sorrow was but snow that could melt with coming spring, she’d shake it off her shoulder and be done with it. It doesn’t just disappear or heal with time, she could not just let it go and forgive. Y/N survived the loss of her mother by making a vow, one she was closer to fulfilling.

“Should I prepare your usual kefta?” Genya asked, holding the blue one over her forearm.

Shaking her head, Y/N turned to her with a smile. If she wants to succeeded, she must use all weapons at hand. Being the General’s wife is one of the weapons at her disposal.

“I was thinking about a different color for tonight.”

“How different are we talking?”

Smirking, Y/N’s eyes flickered to Kirigan’s kefta. “Black.”

“No one wears black but Kirigan”, Genya reminds her.

“Until he married. I believe I’m allowed to wear his color.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Genya sighed heavily. “Alright. As long as you allow me to make a few modifications.”

Anticipating the dinner, Y/N felt like a goddess in the kefta Genya had crafted for her. It fit her perfectly, adjusted just above the waist as it properly accentuated her curves. The closed collar wrapped around her neck, fallen stars creating a golden woven blaze as a necklace, while moondust adorned the long, skin tight lacey sleeves. The bottom acted as a floor length dress with a long slit revealing skin up to middle of her thigh.

Entering the room with her head held high and Genya on her hand, Y/N felt even more confident about the eclipsed sun stitched across her heart. It was bound to attract attention if the rest of her makeshift kefta inspired dress didn’t.  

The moment she took a step inside, everybody’s head turned. The chatter died down, replaced by astonished gasps of pure awestruck admiration.

“I believe you’ve created a masterpiece”, Y/N whispers to Genya whose smile widens.

“You are what makes it so spectacular”, Genya winks.

“Don’t be modest. We both know it’s not in your nature.”

Giggling, Genya nods, “You’re right. I’m brilliant and this”, she steps aside to give her a once over again, “You are proof.”

Pursing her lips, Y/N felt her cheeks darken. Her plan was to draw attention so any potential ally she speaks to would be more inclined to accept her request, but she didn’t expect for everyone to stop and stare.

Tugging her by the arm, Genya pulled her closer. “You’ll never guess who is here”, she spoke in a hushed tone, looking to the left as the rest of the guests began speaking again and the music played softly in the background.

Following her line of view, Y/N’s heart came to a near stop as her eyes locked on his.

“Wasn’t he supposed to leave last night?” Genya whispers, but Y/N could hardly speak.

Breath caught in her throat, Y/N stared back at Kirigan who seemed to be just as breathless. She looked like a dream, a golden bird that carried all the happiness of the world on its wings.

“He didn’t”, Y/N looked away, knitting her eyebrows. “Why didn’t he”, she tried to finish her initial thought, but she couldn’t. If she spoke of the sudden ache that settled after the initial shock of his presence dispersed, she’d hate herself more. She’s weak if her feelings are hurt by a single night spent alone in a bed. She was certain now. She is foolish.

“You won’t be able to network tonight”, Genya’s frown made Y/N chuckle.

“You’ve been frowning so often since we met.”

Shrugging, Genya leaned in discreetly. “I can afford a few worry lines. I’ll just erase them later.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N smiled brightly. She would not allow Kirigan to dampen her mood. He can stay on his side of the room and she won’t spare him a single glance.

“I’ll test the waters”, Genya promised, “If I find anyone that we can work with, we can test their loyalty later.”

Glancing over Y/N’s shoulder, Genya’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

Frowning lightly, Y/N glanced at what has her so perplexed only to huff in frustration.

“Black suits you”, the Darkling compliments her. Holding out a hand for her to take, he glances at his open palm before raising his brow. He’s challenging her.

Looking around, she realizes everyone’s waiting for her reaction. As he told her once before, they may not be a love match, but their arrangement must seem successful to the unsuspecting eye.

“Dance with me and pretend they don’t exist”, his voice softened and she couldn’t believe this is the same man who so cruelly baited her, branding her as foolish earlier. How can he act as if nothing happened when she was still reeling from it? Not that he’d know, she always put care in every move she made around him.

She placed her hand on the palm of his, holding her breath as she chained her gaze to the abyss in his. There’s no going back, she thinks, nearly shuddering as he places his free hand on her hip.

“I thought you were gone by now”, she mussed. Choosing to take control of the conversation, she kept her neck straight as it secured a proper distance between their faces.

“We had a slight delay”, he said, “I’ll be gone tonight.”

Humming, she swallowed thickly. Avoiding looking at others, she remained in a staring match with her husband.

“How did you sleep?” The Darkling smirked, watching her eyes narrow at him.

“Quite well. Did you enjoy sharing your bed with someone else?” While her voice seemed cold and unattached, her words were anything but.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy there?” Pursing his lips, he nearly laughed as she stepped on his foot. “I’ll take that as yes.”

“I’m merely concerned how it would look if word of you sleeping elsewhere got out. I prefer my pride and honor untouched and if you choose to find a lover, I should assume you’ll be discreet.”

Licking his lips, the great general didn’t laugh at her or sneer. There was no angry squinting or vile words. For once, he had a serious expression on his face that had nothing to do with the army or their arguments.

“I’m not the kind who would seek a lover while married. Even if the marriage is a mere arrangement.”

Scoffing, she clenched her jaw as he pulled her waist closer to him. 

“How many lovers have you taken?”

He raised a brow, “That’s a horrible question.”

“Because you lost count?” She narrows her eyes, the lips he found himself so fascinated with formed a thin, red line.

He doesn’t respond, so she tried again, “Why have you not married before?”

Now he looked amused, “That’s even worse!”

Shrugging, she smirks, “Well, ask me a question then! If all mine are so awful, let me hear yours.”

“Do you think I’m a very good liar or a very unlovable being?” Slowly pulling her body flush against his, Darkling looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone and I’ve manipulated everyone who has fallen in love with me. So?” Inhaling sharply, he watched a disarray of emotions cross her face as he asked again, “Liar or unlovable?”

“A liar. Because you are lying, not just to me but yourself.” Her breathing is shallow, strained even. “You have a heart, General, but you’re cowering like a scared little boy instead of just facing the facts.”

“And what are those?” His voice is darker as are his intentions.

If they were alone, she was certain he’d be kissing her lips now. For some reason, it seemed he enjoyed their arguments. He liked it when she fought him almost like he didn’t know any other form of affection.

“That you care. You care and you hate yourself for it.” Stopping their dance, she managed a faint smile. “But don’t worry, I’m not spending my time waiting for you to accept it.”

Brushing his fingers across the left side of her face, he cocked his head ever so slightly, “Is it possible you’ve got this all wrong? From where I stand, you’re the one who cares – perhaps a bit too much? Let me remind you, this marriage is a sham. You are my wife, but I do not love you, I do not care for you and if you were killed right in this very spot, I would avenge you but solely for the arrangement to remain unsullied.”

Nodding, more to herself than him, she took a step back from him. For the first time ever, she drew back. “For once, we’re on the same page of the same book.”

The music stops. Looking to the man clinking his glass, Y/N’s lips part. She didn’t even realize it, but too often she entirely forgoes breathing in Kirigan’s presence.

Taking a deep breath, she nearly laughs. Kirigan…General…The Darkling. She even called him husband, yet she never even heard his first name. How odd is it to marry a man whose first name is a mystery to you, she thought.

“If you’ll excuse me”, she nods curtly without sparing him a glance. 

Her seat at the dinner table was beside Genya, while Kirigan was placed all the way on the other side of the room. She smirked, satisfied she’ll have some peace during her meal. She never quite liked the table formation in a wide U form before, but she blessed the ones who created it on this evening.

Studying him from afar, she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him. It wasn’t some cosmic connection that she hoped she’d share with her husband, rather wishful thinking. Longing for him is out of the question. He may be the most handsome man she had ever seen, but it’s not at all something she’d thank the saints for. If he were less appealing, she’d at least be free of torment his looks bring. The devil is real and he’s not a goat like man as humans believed. There are no horns, no tails – he’s beautiful, a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless.

“You’re staring at him again”, Genya speaks in a hushed tone, her smile audible.

“I’m not”, Y/N replies, “I simply looked over in a direction and he happened to be seated there.”

“Then why was that look on your face?” Genya raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Y/N asks, incredulous. “What look?”

“You have a certain way of looking at him”, she informs. Letting out an tired huff, Genya explains, “You look at him and it’s like you’re staring at the night sky littered with stars.”

“So?”

Genya looks down before whispering, “You love night skies littered with stars.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N stared at her food for the rest of the evening. One bite after another and her plate was quickly emptied. Her stomach felt like it would burst, but she didn’t care. Most people claim they can’t eat under stress, but she was the opposite – her appetite only grew.

“He’s standing up”, Genya informed her and despite wishing she remained impassive, Y/N’s eyes shot up to where he was sitting.

With a lump at the back of her throat, she watched him as he headed to the door. A part of her hoped he’d be decent enough to bid his farewell, to acknowledge her at least. That part of her needed to be destroyed, she decided. It’s the part of her that would ruin her mission and for what? If she truly wanted to, she could have him on his back and under her. If she wanted him, he’d be hers – at least his body would. The principle she held onto was more important and so, she swallowed thickly and looked to her empty plate in order to stop her weakness from showing.

As she looked away, the Darkling looked back at her from across the room. He felt a strange tightness in his heart and once he saw she didn’t follow him with her gaze, his heart dropped. Furrowing his eyebrows, he kept his gaze on her for a while longer – her beauty was unmatched by anything he had ever seen. White looked good on her, every color did – but black fabric hugging her curves could bring a dead man back to life.

With a heavy heart and frown etched on his face, the Darkling turned his back and left the room, the Palace, the strangest, most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on.

He carried her in his thoughts ever since. It aggravates him how quickly she’s gotten under his skin. Most of the month before their marriage was finalized was spent in petty comments about their armies or their distaste for one another. She was insufferable, maddening and entirely different from what he expected.

And yet, even then, the Darkling hoped she’d lose her patience and either leave or tell him she loves him. If she left, he’d be free of her and the shackles of an undesirable marriage, but if she told him she loves him, perhaps he’d believe her. If he knew there was ever a possibility of her loving him, he’d dare assume he might be deserving of love – because she may have dubbed him a liar, but he believes himself to be unlovable too. He never saw the point in allowing himself to feel a thing for her when it would be futile, wasted emotions on a woman sworn to hate him.

Once he was done chasing a rumor of a stag up north, the Darkling had to accept it too was a futile. Going after a legendary animal wasted so much of his time that he couldn’t even believe how foolish he’s become too. The stag must not be real after all.

Approaching Little Palace, he felt almost eager to run up to their shared chambers and see her. Even if she’d likely have a few choice words for him, he hoped he could make her blood boil just to hear her speak. He’d never admit it, but he missed someone he could converse with without dying of boredom.

“General”, Genya rushed to Kirigan who nearly growled at the distraction. However, Genya seemed distraught, panicked enough to draw his attention.

“Yes?”

Swallowing thickly, she wiped a stray tear slipping down her cheek. “It’s Y/N.”

His heart stops at the sound of her shaky voice, his jaw clenching before speaking. “What happened? Is she alright?”

“She went for a ride this morning and she hasn’t been seen since.”

Darkling’s gaze hardens as he grips Genya’s arms and shakes her lightly. “What do you mean?!”

“We sent riders after lunch, because I was worried she missed two meals already”, gasping for air, Genya’s tears made tracks, “The snow covered her tracks.”

She left me, he thought. She deemed me unlovable, unworthy. She left.

“They managed to find her mare”, Genya continues through tears, “It was decapitated and left in the woods.”

“Woods?” He frowns, wondering why she’d stray from the meadow and then he realized. He’s the one she rode into the woods with. She must have thought the woods were safe. They were at the time, only because he was with her and he’d never let any harm come to her.

“There were signs of struggle, but the snow is making it hard for us to track them.”

Releasing a visibly shaken Genya, he grunts. Biting his lower lip, he paced before her as his hand ran through his hair. She never saw him so worried, so mad before. He looked like a man walking a fine line – a line between madness and sanity.

“Call everyone”, he orders, “We must find her.”

Exhaling in relief, Genya smiled as Ivan emerged, having heard everything.

“Why would we do that?”

A pause ensues as the Darkling takes a step toward Ivan. “I haven’t made a promise in so long”, he spoke but in truth, it’s been hundreds of years since he made anyone a promise. “I promised her I’d protect her.” His voice was ragged, but controlled. “So I’m making a new promise right here, if they harm a single hair on her head, I will end them all. I will do it with a smile on face and I will bathe in their blood!”

They took her from him and he had every intention of ripping the world apart with his bare hands and for once, the thought of how far he’d go for that insolent woman didn’t frighten him. He barely knows her, he certainly doesn’t love her, but Saints help those who touched his wife.

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Part 6

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone

[lilxberry]

Hardly Burglar Material - Bilbo Baggins

Requested by: @donniethescienceguy​

Helloooooooo! Can I have a Bilbo x hobbit wife reader where after Thorin insults him (in the beginning when he arrives) she defends him and Thorins like: are you sure it’s the male Baggins we want?

I mean, I still did as what was requested but man, did I not know where tf this was going lmao

I followed quite a bit of the manuscript of the film, the only alteration is when reader confronts Thorin

Warnings: Nothing really. Asshole Thorin. Terrible writing lmao. 

Words: 1,796

Pairings: Bilbo Baggins x Reader (female reader) (wife!reader)

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You hadn’t expected your quiet evening meal with your husband to be interrupted but when a dwarf, a big, burly, tattooed, balding, towering one at that knocks your door, there certainly isn’t much you can do.

After the dwarf, who introduced himself as Dwalin, had entered your home and devoured your husbands fish dinner, to which you offered Bilbo your own meal, more and more knocks sounded at the door, each one miffing your husband further and further until he had finally had enough.

“There’s nobody home!” he shouted as another sound came from the front door, arms holding up the abundance of weapons the two brothers’, Fíli and Kíli, loaded on to him.

You felt terrible, watching as your husband becomes frustrated, not knowing what to do other than spectate in concern.

He tossed the items down out of his arms as he stormed towards the door, shouting at whoever was on the other side. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is.”

Bilbo closes in on the door. “I-I-If this is some plotheads idea of a joke,” he laughed in disbelief before grasping the door handle in his hand. “I can only say, it is in very poor taste.”

With that, he pulled the door open and in comes tumbling through the doorway a cluster of dwarves, all grumbling and whining at the other to get off of them. Bilbo and yourself, who stood a few steps behind, looked down at the mess of moving bodies on the floor before his feet, dumbfounded expressions on both of your faces.

Movement behind the pile up caught both yours and Bilbos’ attention, and once the tall figure bent down ever so slightly to reveal himself, your face twisted into that of utter confusion as your husband sighs in exasperation.

“Gandalf.”

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Although you were concerned for your husband, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation quite amusing. You found some of the dwarven folk that had invaded your shared home to be quite a fun, entertaining bunch.

Of course, you were concerned about the possessions within your home, hoping that the dwarves leave your home relatively untouched and that your husband wouldn’t have some sort of mental breakdown.

Your uninvited guests had pillaged the pantry of its food. The race of dwarves certainly did have quite an appetite. Even Gandalf had nibbled on quite a bit of food.

The rowdiness of the dwarves had calmed slightly, if only for moment when they downed whatever drink they had. Even the ridiculous and frankly disgusting belching afterwards was calmer than their initial arrival.

Yet that was quickly replaced with plates, platers, knives, forks, and spoons were tossed from one dwarf to another as they sang a merry tune. Bilbo was quick with demanding caution and for things to be put down. Even you were slightly worried for your kitchen utensils.

The dwarves released hearty laughter when you and Bilbo peered into the kitchen and had seen that everything was clean and stacked, Gandalf chuckling along with them as both you and Bilbo simultaneously release sighs of relief.

Then, the atmosphere became tense as three, loud knocks sound at your front door for a final time that night.

The laughter died out instantly and Gandalf spoke quite ominously. “He’s here.”

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You couldn’t really pinpoint what exactly was unsettled you so much when it came to the dark-haired dwarf who sat at the head of the table. Maybe his stature. Possibly his stoic expression.

Most likely the look behind his eyes.

Well, you certainly didn’t like him all that much whenever he addressed your husband.

Most of the conversation between the dwarves and Gandalf became muffled when reaching your ears, certainly seeing no point in listening in on their talk. The second your husbands voice rang out through the room though had piqued your interest and your attention was brought to the conversation.

They spoke of The Lonely Mountain, the dragon Smaug, how they were on a quest to reclaim their home. Gandalf had produced not only a map of some forts but a key, a key the dwarves seemed to become quite excited about.

You also happened to admire the young dwarfs’ courage. Ori.

Then, the topic of a burglar arrived.

“That’s why we need a burglar,” Ori spoke.

“Hmm, and a good one too. An expert I’d imagine.” Bilbo moves back from peering down at the map, holding on to his suspenders.

“And are you?”

Bilbo glances around to behind him before looking towards the dwarves once more. “Am I what?”

“He said he’s an expert!” Oin spoke cheerily. Of course, the dwarf with the horn to aid his hearing would say as such.

“Me? No, no, no, no, no,” your husband started, eyes darting to each dwarf, hoping his point would get across. “I’m not a burglar. I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.”

You nodded your head in agreement. As much as you love your husband, he is quite the stickler for following rules.

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Mister Baggins,” Balin was next to speak. “He’s hardly burglar material.”

You supressed a chuckle as Bilbo, although relieved that someone agreed, looked the tiniest bit offended.

The group of dwarves began to chatter and raise in volume, no words could actually be comprehended by yourself, it all a jumble of noises. Then Gandalf raised out of the seat slightly, his voice booming over the racket the dwarves created.

“ENOUGH! IF I SAY BILBO BAGGINS IS A BURGLAR,” he lowered his voice with each following word. “Then a burglar he is.” Bilbo looked as if he wanted to protest but no words left his mouth.

“Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet,” he continued. “In fact, they can pass by unseen by most if they chose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to them which gives us an distinct advantage.”

The whole discussion about your husband was unnerving for you. You disliked how your husband was talked of like a ploy in some silly game.

“This quest is no place for gentlefolk.” Thorins’ tone was as if the words left a vile taste in his mouth, clearly showing his disgust for your husband. “He probably wouldn’t last 5 miles away from his precious little home. Look at him, Gandalf! He isn’t made for such things, it’s as clear as day. His big feet and rounded belly would slow us down. Your little Hobbit would cry out for home within a day.”

Your blood boiled with each word he spoke, an anger rising in you which you desperately tried to keep down. Your nails dug into the palms of your hands and your jaw was clenched tightly shut, but enough was enough.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF MY HUSBAND LIKE THAT?! NO LESS WHILST YOU ARE IN HIS HOME AND IN HIS PRESENCE!”

Your outburst caught the attention of every soul in the dining room around the table. Their eyes settled on your figure that stepped closer and closer to them up to the point where you stood glaring down at Thorin right beside his seat. Even Bilbos’ eyes were wide and looked almost ready to pop right out of their sockets.

“My husband may not be a fighter like you…you BRASS DWARVES! But he deserves no less respect. I will not stand for someone speaking down on my Bilbo in such a manner, even if they are some king,” you all but spat out.

Some of the dwarves looked offended that you spoke to their leader in such a way, others looked thoroughly shocked, surprised that a small thing as yourself had such a fire in you. Gandalf smirked as Bilbo looked like he genuinely feared for your safety. He had witnessed outbursts from you that scared him before, which were quite rare, you barely losing your temper, but for once, he was terrified of the consequences seeing as it wasn’t at him nor a fellow Hobbit.

But it was Thorins’ reaction that had you confused. He seemed…impressed?

Thorin turned towards Gandalf, a smirk of his own forming on his face. “Are you sure it was Mister Baggins you had wanted to join our quest?”

Gandalf chuckled and looked towards you and your husband, you now joined your side, who was silently scolding you with his eyes but nonetheless remaining the concerned, dotting husband. “I was certain on Mister Baggins being the 14th member of your company, but I would highly recommend you take a 15th as I believe Misses Baggins certainly has something of her own to bring to the quest.”

“They both have a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including themselves. You must trust me on this,” Gandalf finished.

Thorin looked at Gandalf and Gandalf at he for a moment, Thorin evidently mulling it over within his head before finally, he spoke. “Very well. We’ll do it your way. Give them the contract.”

Both yourself and Bilbo began to protest as Balin produced the document. He handed it over to Bilbo who unravelled the parchment and began to scan over the words, your eyes peering over his shoulder to read it for yourself.

As Bilbo and you busied yourselves with reading over the document, Thorin had leant over towards Gandalf to whisper within his ear. “I cannot guarantee their safety.”

“Understood,” Gandalf hummed in acknowledgement.

“You’ll be left responsible for their fate.”

“Agreed.”

Bilbo began to read aloud the text, brow furrowed out of concentration, your own face screwed up slightly, straining to peer at the words.

“Terms; cash on delivery up to but not exceeding 1 14th for total profit, if any. Seems fair, uhh-“

“Shouldn’t it be changed to 1 15th if I were to join?” you questioned aimlessly.

Bilbo nodded his head in agreement before continuing. “Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a government, thereof including but not limited to; lacerations. Evisceration?” He unfolds a piece further, reading before looking towards the group with a look of disbelief. “Incineration?!”

“Oh, aye. It’d melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye,” Bofur quipped with ease.

Many more ‘encouraging and reassuring’ words were spoken by Bofur, unnerving both yourself and Bilbo, though you hid it extremely well. The moment your husband passed out, was when Bofur seemed to finally relent.

“Oh dear.” You looked towards your husband laying on the floor unconscious with concern before turning towards the others with a worried expression.

Valar forbid you allow him to go with those dwarves and that conniving wizard alone.

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I mean, I don’t really have anything to say sooooo

If you want to be added to a taglist lemme know

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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LOTR / The Hobbit taglist:

@iwazoomingouttahere​ 

#bilbo baggins #bilbo #bilbo x #bilbo x reader #bilbo baggins x #bilbo baggins x reader #x reader #x fem #x fem!reader #x female reader #x fem reader #x wife reader #x wife!reader #bilbo x wife!reader #bilbo baggins x wife!reader #the hobbit #The Hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfiction #fluff #the hobbit fluff