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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months

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the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

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“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.”

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat.

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms.

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum.

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude.

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow.

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival.

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake.

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge.

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her.

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother.

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired.

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were.

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.”

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop.

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage.

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside.

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour.

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures.

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you.

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone.

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows.

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?”

“Of course, your highness.”

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours.

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh.

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely.

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle.

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue.

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you.

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.”

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.”

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers.

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends.

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame.

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once.

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.”

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen.

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you.

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below.

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter.

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow.

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?”

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone.

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.”

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress.

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric.

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor.

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed.

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer.

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.”

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left.

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

343 notes · View notes

verysium · 2 months

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I’ve been seeing some discourse around twitter about the blue lock boys and whether they’d be a loyal bf or not 😭 Curious to know who do you think would be more inclined to cheat or who just wouldn’t at all!!!

I saw someone say sae would 100% cheat like whattt I feel like he wouldn’t even bother looking at anyone else if he already has someone (Cuz I mean dating him would likely mean you actually mean something to him) but I digress

ok anon you had me pulling up a whole argumentative essay here cus WHO TF SAID SAE WOULD 100% CHEAT??? 😔 that mischaracterization is so painfully inaccurate. twitter really took the whole emotionally unavailable itoshi archetype and ran with it. let me just clear the air here because my man deserves some explanation.

sae itoshi would not cheat. as in capital N and capital O. he took nearly an entire decade off his life just to work on his own issues and finally form a functional and healthy relationship with another human being. and you're telling me he's just going to let all that wash down the drain for someone else? 😒 twitter logic really be showing its illogical side here. apparently a man can be loyal to a professional sports career for eighteen years, but he can't be loyal to his significant other.

i think this misunderstanding probably happened cus of shidou. people read the manga and saw that sae dropped rin for a bug-eyed freak and automatically assumed he was disloyal. 😑 let me just say two things here:

(1) sae and shidou's relationship is strictly professional. imagine being stuck in an god awful corporate office with coworkers who bore you with their weaponized incompetence and a boss who annoys the living shit out of you. and then one day, the company hires a new recruit who is probably the most unhinged and debauched creature known to man. you're probably left wondering how he even got hired in the first place. but then you find out...he's useful. he takes risks and gets a high return on what he invests. it's impulsive and stupid, really. but at least it's unconventional and outside-the-box. he has your interest piqued. that's basically sae and shidou in a nutshell.

(2) just because sae gave shidou his number after the u-20 game does NOT mean he would do the same to any other person who would try to encroach on your relationship. and let's be real here. sae would get one text from shidou and block his contact.

anyways, here is my analysis on the bllk boys in general. introducing the anti-cheating to pro-cheating spectrum:

(A) cannot cheat under any circumstance (as in they already hate the fact that they live on a planet with 8.1 billion other people who are not you):

itoshi brothers (atp they don't even have the physical or mental capacity to entertain a third party), ness, reo

(B) cannot cheat due to physical incapability (literally cannot pull anyone within a five-meter radius to cheat with):

ego, igarashi, raichi, bachira (not that he's in any way unattractive...it's just...i feel like he would purposefully act weird to drive off people who aren't you)

yukimiya, barou, kunigami, noa, loki, gagamaru, chigiri, niko, hiori, karasu (baby boy literally felt inferior cus his crush was the cutest in his class), kurona (head empty, just you)

(D) would not cheat (on you but everyone else is not included)

isagi (unintentionally a homewrecker to others but would never let anyone homewreck his relationship with you), leonardo (idk why but i just don't trust him entirely)

(E) could cheat (depends on what they get out of it):

kaiser, shidou (honestly what did you expect when you willingly dated a blonde man...)

(F) would cheat (either proven by canon or they accidentally fucked up somehow):

otoya, oliver, nagi

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saltofmercury · 1 year

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A König x reader where the reader gives off scary dog privilege.

Like at a McDonald’s, König will stand behind them, even if he’s like a MOUNTAIN compared to the reader and the reader will be like “HE asked for no pickles >:(“

Idk think it would be cute if the reader would help König out in social situations where he would be uncomfortable.

If König doesn’t feel like talking the reader redirects the conversation to themselves so König can just listen.

Pairing: König x reader

Summary: König feels better after meeting you.

"We"

He didn’t date. Dating was exhausting, humiliating, and daunting for König. A series of awkward silences followed by stupid questions, that seemed to be in constant loop.

“What do you do?”

“Where are you from?

“Why are you so quiet?

He was always too quiet, too shy, for women. Too soft, too detached with men. It’s like he couldn’t be perfect for either.

It was worse when he thought they were having a good time and König, already filled with nerves and anxiety, had ordered his meal wrong.

“Why didn’t you ask to have it without mushrooms?”

“Why don’t you ask them if that's not what you ordered?”

As if it were easy. They looked at him with stupidity like he couldn’t just do it.

Second + third dates were then followed by

“I’m not asking them to switch it, that's your meal.”

“You’re a big boy, use your voice.”

Small jabs towards him because of his height and build, that he wished he could just push himself to do it but he didn’t want to add an extra burden to the waiter or crew in the back.

“It’s fine, I'll eat it.”

Later coming to realize at the end of the date that he wasn’t for “them.”

“It’s not me, it’s you, I just don’t see it working out.”

Until he met you.

You weren’t looking for anything, as a matter of fact you just wanted to decompress from the day, have a small get together with new and old friends, but lots of things changed that day.

As you went around introducing yourselves, König said hi, but didn’t really put much input into the group. He seemed to be making himself smaller, fading away behind the group of people. He seemed uncomfortable.

You approached him— A small shiver from his side, mentally preparing himself knowing the lines of—

“WHY aren’t you talking?”

“How tall are you?”

“Why aren’t you drinking?”

“Why are you so quiet?”

However it wasn’t like that at all. You did most of the talking. Just asked for small input from him. He was so taken back by how comfortable you made him. You made talking to new people easy and by the end of the night it was you asking him on a second date.

He nodded, dumbfounded. “A second date?”

A small shiver again, maybe this time it was different?

The second date, at some small diner nearby, you take the lead on talking again. You think it was perhaps due to your nerves, you had become a chatterbox.

“So why the military?”

“Uh— personal choice.”

Small silence as you chewed on the appetizer in front of you. You wide eyed, trying to not say

“Well that explains the haircut.” so instead you said,

“Must be lots of traveling huh?” You continued, listing places you wanted to visit and asking if he had ever been there.

Relief pooled inside him. What was your motive behind this?

When it was time to place the order, König’s nerves had bundled inside of him again that he forgot to mention “no black olives.”

His dish was placed in front of him.

He looked concerned, like he was in for a long night of picking them off his meal, then bombarding him with questions of “why didn’t you just ask?”

You saw the concern on his face.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Why aren’t you digging in?”

“Ah… I said no olives but it’s no big deal.”

It was a big deal and you called the waitress over.

“I’m sorry we said no olives”

“Oh! I’m sorry!” The waitress flushed and ran away with the plate.

“Here” you said, so calm, “you can have some of mine while we wait.”

How effortless you did it. How were you so good at this?

“I hate when I do that. I can’t have cilantro because it tastes like soap.” You laughed and continued to pick at french fries in front of him.

God you were adorable.

He was sure he wasn’t going to see you again, thinking that maybe you thought he couldn’t speak up for himself, or the conversation ran too dry.

You however kept pushing yourself in, being his voice when he couldn’t speak.

“We said—

‘No olives’

‘No pickles’

‘This isn’t what we ordered’

Relief washing over him that you took it upon yourself when he had made the mistake ordering.

How you used “we” as opposed to “he” and he really liked that you didn’t single him out. He could melt. Was there finally someone who could lessen the burden of his anxiety?

Dinner dates went from bi-weekly to weekly. Then it was just easy. It was a no-brainer being with you.

You never once thought he was too shy, or too quiet, too soft, or too detached. You didn’t question things between you two, you just took the lead in conversations with people, often checking in with König for a small part in it. You knew the right amount to get out of him.

You took the burden of first time conversations. You had started ordering for the two of you, knowing what he liked and didn’t like. König felt lighter, felt better that someone was here for him and opposed to him.

#könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig imagine #könig cod #könig #ask #small drabble #könig x you

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pedropascallme · 8 months

Note

u said u are always looking for a reason to write jim smut so let me deliver bc i’m actually so fixated on this movie it’s CRAZYYY!!!!! anyways i would like like a build up to a confession kind of? like there’s so so much romantic and sexual tension and it just like breaks and yeah😭😭 idk if that makes any sense but yk!! ok thank u so much!!! you are amazing dude

In Our Perfect Present Tense

Pairing: Jim x f!Reader

Summary: "And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?"

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v, fingering, praise kink, Jim can be soft!dom if I say so!! Allusions to canon typical violence, I know Cillian Murphy is 5'8 but Jim is 6'2 in my mind, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: Max you make my heart go badumbadumbadumbadum (good) I hope this is to your liking <3 Also continuing to cross tag my Cillian fics because my Jim fics rarely gain traction so we are trying some METHODS.

The cottage was so quiet.

You could hear Hannah shift under the blanket and sigh in her sleep, and though seeing her so peaceful made you feel a pang of protectiveness, watching her chest rise and fall, your mind was elsewhere. Maybe you were still in London, or Manchester, or anywhere else; maybe this was all fake and you had died somewhere along the way. Was this Heaven? Or maybe Purgatory, given that nothing seemed to have changed much.

And where had this sudden, deep infatuation with Jim come into play? Was it sudden?

No. You closed your eyes and his face flashed across your mind; eyes you wanted to drown in and cheekbones sharp enough to make you bleed. Maybe that’s why you kept him around in the first place. You’d never had to help him, save him from the congregation that chased him down the road; never had to take him to your hideout in the underground. At first, (and you knew this for a fact, at least) it was simply because Mark…bored you. He was cheesy and had a chip on his shoulder, and you didn’t like how he looked at you—didn’t like that he seemed to expect you to fall in love with him. Jim made a good buffer. And it helped that he had such kind eyes that seemed to be full of fear and morbid curiosity, and that he was, in every sense of the word, pretty.

You hadn’t been sad when you’d had to kill Mark.

But once you had made it clear to Jim that you didn’t want to fall in love with him, either, your snap judgement fogging your mind, you thought that was the end of it. Thought maybe he would go out like Mark did. And was it really your fault that Jim assumed you didn’t care about him? You didn’t. You wanted him to think you didn’t. Wanted him to think that he was essentially on his own when you ran up the stairs to the top floor, with his head splitting in pain and your legs going as fast as they could carry you. But when he came up to you that night to apologize to you, thank you, hold out an olive branch, it was then you realized that you felt isolated. And, yes, doomsday will do that to you, but it wasn’t just that. It was that even when humanity was rearing its ugly head, Jim still had the time to recognize and respect you; he was willing to put you first in a way nobody would’ve done even if their life didn’t depend on it.

You felt so guilty that night, touching yourself under the covers with everybody else just a few rooms over.

It was one thing to be wandering around the desolate city with him as your only company, but once you had Frank and Hannah (and a car) you felt like maybe, just maybe, there was hope. There was a glimmer of something behind Jim’s eye when you were eating out on the countryside after ransacking the supermarket—and it could’ve been the way the light was hitting him, or the way he laughed with Hannah, or the fact that he was eating fruit for the first time in weeks, but you thought maybe it had something to do with you. Maybe he had figured out that you did care. About him and about the state of things and about what the hell you would do if there was any sort of relief from running away. You thought about kissing him then, and he might’ve, too. There was a certain tenderness in the way he curled up next to you that night, under the stars.

In another life, he might’ve done it for reasons other than keeping warm.

And then, of course, that all came crashing down. It had been too good to be true, and in retrospect you hated yourself for allowing any harm to come to your small posse. You got out alive, but the hope you had was minimal, at best. Was alive good enough anymore? Was alive good enough when you’d fought off every evil you could think of in the span of 12 hours?

No. It wasn’t until Jim turned around, soaking wet and bleeding, that you realized that being alive was no good if he wasn’t there with you to enjoy it. You’d wanted to wrap yourself in him, to feel the sweat and blood caked on his chest and kiss him until you lost consciousness. Instead, you crumpled to the floor in the red dress that had been forced upon you, hugging yourself to his shins and begging him to tell you he was ok. It was mortifying, only made slightly more bearable when Hannah lobbed a bottle over his head. At least you knew there was still humor to be found in the worst of situations.

Shortly thereafter, when Jim got shot, you were certain that it was all over; you might as well follow him out. Maybe you would’ve if it hadn’t been for Hannah crying silently next to you as she floored the gas and begged you to stay. To do something. For once you felt like you had people worth fighting for other than yourself. It made you dizzy.

Which brought you back to the present.

There were two rooms in the cottage; both were damp and smelled like the lint from a dryer, but having a bed was enough. You had discussed the sleeping situation the night of your arrival, and there had only been some mild bickering.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. S’ok.” Jim remained gentlemanly throughout, but it was apparent, to you, at least, that the person with the bullet hole through their stomach should be able to sleep comfortably.

“Hannah and I will take one, you’ll take the other.” You were blunt, dancing around the subject of who would end up sharing by deciding then and there to divide it based on sex.

“Wha—” Hannah began to protest before deciding to shut her mouth.

“It’s really not that big a deal,” Jim stood his ground, “I’ll find something to rest on.”

“Absolutely not.” And that’s where you ended it. Saving face, dismissing any deeper urges, leaving no time for Hannah or Jim to propose a different arrangement.

But now that you were somewhat settled, it felt wrong to be in this room. The wallpaper was a reflective pink, and it felt too bright even in the pitch-black night. You couldn’t get comfortable, and all you could do was mull over every past interaction you’d had with Jim. Every interaction, and the way his mouth moved when he spoke, and the way he smiled at you, and the way he had quite literally killed for you—nearly been killed for you.

You felt hot. Nauseous, even, to the point where you felt that you had to move around or take a walk or do anything to feel more at ease. But it just so happened that you felt the most at ease around Jim.

You tiptoed across the floor and into the hallway. You almost didn’t bother knocking on the door, but felt that you at least owed him that decency.

“C’m’in.”

You peered into the room, allowing yourself a small view of Jim’s shirtless figure splayed out on the bed. You smiled, feeling shy out of nowhere.

“Just wanted to check on you.” You excused yourself, not wanting him to think it any more odd than it already was for you to be in his doorway at midnight. “You feeling ok?”

“Better than ever.” Jim crossed his arms behind his head, sitting up against the pillows. You could see the bandage on his abdomen, and his skin covered in a ray of moonlight.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled, patting the mattress to encourage you to sit with him. You closed the door behind you. “Why’re you really up?”

“Honestly?” You paused to build tension, leaning in slightly, “Hannah snores.” Jim chuckled under his breath. “And…and I don’t really feel at home in that room.”

“Would you feel more at home in this one?”

“Maybe…”

“’Cause if you’d like it, you and Hannah could have it. ‘V’always wanted pink wallpaper, anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, “No, that’s—it’s not that.”

“Then…?” Jim tilted his head slightly, and you looked down and away from him, inhaling deeply.

“Can I stay in here tonight? With—with you?” You could feel your pulse in your throat and though he responded almost immediately, you felt as though hours were passing.

“Sure, f’course.” Jim nodded; eyes wide with eager bewilderment. You swing your legs over the mattress, straightening yourself out beside him. You looked up at the ceiling, lying on your back and waiting to fall asleep.

“Closer.” Jim whispered.

“Hm?”

“Y’can come closer. If you want, I mean.”

“Oh…yeah.” You shuffled closer to him. Somehow you ended up spooning, his hand draped hesitantly over your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, and his breath blowing against the hairs on the back of your neck.

“Comfortable?” He was still whispering, as if he would wake the crickets if he spoke any louder.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah…” You both fell silent again, and you wondered if he could feel the tension, too, or if it was something you had just made up. You turned over to face him.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, though his eyes were closed, and you thought maybe he had already fallen asleep.

“For what?” His eyes were still closed when he responded.

“For—you know…” You reached out to graze your fingertips over his bandages, withdrawing it just as quickly when you realized that what you were doing was so forward.

“You didn’t shoot me.”

“I didn’t stop you from getting shot.”

“Not much you could’ve done. Three of us and more of them.” He opened his eyes, “Plus, you drugged Hannah, so just the two of us, really.”

You buried your face into the pillow, “Was trying to help.”

“You did.” Jim reached out to goad you from your hiding spot. “Been nothing but helpful since I met you. Consider this me returning the favor.” You managed to peek an eye out from the pillow to look at him smiling at you. He was so gentle. How could a man who had been comatose while the world was thrown into shambles remain so empathetic?

“Didn’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, barely audible when the words came out through the pillow.

“Didn’t want you to get hurt, either. Think I went to all that trouble for myself?”

“No.” You brought your head up to fully look at him.

“Exactly. You would’ve done the same for me.”

“You say that with so much confidence.”

“Cause it’s true. Cocky, but it’s true.”

“It is.”

“True?”

“Cocky,” you smiled when he feigned defeat, “but also true.” You quieted again, keeping eye contact with one another. Jim’s smile faded slightly.

“Why did you help me?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“In the first place, by the gas station—why did you help me?”

You didn’t know how to answer. “I needed the company.”

“You had company.”

“I needed company I would enjoy.”

“What if I wasn’t enjoyable?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I was willing to take that risk.” You raised an eyebrow back at him, mocking his curiosity and his pushback. “And…I mean, plus, you were…I d’know. Tragic. And pretty.”

“Pretty?” His other eyebrow shot up.

“And tragic.” You giggled. “It’s not like I saw you tearing down the street screaming and thought that you only deserved help ‘cause you were good looking, it was just—it’s why I kept you around.” You rolled your eyes, trying to stop yourself from sounding too sincere, unsure if Jim was willing to recognize the attraction you had toward him. Unsure of whether or not you were willing to admit it right here, right now.

“You liked me.” Jim teased.

“I like you,” you clarified, “Present tense.” You averted your eyes from his gaze, opting instead to look down at his wound once more. He gawked at you, grinning. Placing a hand on your chin, he redirected your gaze to his face.

“How long have you been holding out on me?”

“What?”

“How long’ve you been wanting to say that? Not since day one, hm? Since we went to my parents’ house?”

“Didn’t want to say it,” you huffed, “wanted to help you stay alive.”

“C’mon, all that talk about how you didn’t care if I fell in love with you? Cared more than you let on, I knew it. Could’ve saved us so much time if you just came out with it.”

“Shush.” You tried not to dwell on his words, the realization that, this whole time, he was waiting for you.

“Say it again.” He gleamed, “say it again.”

You took his hand from your face, holding it in your own. “Jim,” you brought his hand to your chest, “I like you.”

You couldn’t take a breath before he was on you. You felt his lips first, plush against your own, and then his hands over your waist and his legs tangling with yours. For someone who had almost bled out less than a week ago, he was shockingly quick on his feet. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the release of weeks’ worth of tension that had been festering inside of you when his tongue slipped between your lips. You moaned, hands grabbing at any part of him you could reach: You felt his chest against your own and ran a trail down his spine with a finger, feeling him shiver at your touch. He ground his hips into you slightly and you reached for his arms, pulling him in as close as you possibly could.

“Knew it.” He whispered when you pulled away for air. “Knew it.” He began sucking on your neck, running his tongue over your pulse point and licking stripes down your throat. You gasped at the feeling, still trying to touch him wherever you could. You found yourself stroking his jawline while he sucked bruises onto your chest, feeling the way his cheeks hollowed when he made an especially strong mark.

“Jim—” You pleaded, trying to touch him, feel him, all around needing him. It was almost all too much.

He returned to eye level. “Mm?” He kissed your neck again, soothing over the fresh hickeys. “Tell me what you need.”

“You—need you.”

“C’mon,” his grin returned, “specifics.”

“Please,” you needed to feel everything, everywhere, “fuck me.”

“God, sounds so pretty coming out of that mouth.” He stood up from the mattress, pulling you up slightly to allow him to disrobe you. It didn’t take much effort; the threadbare clothes you were trying to pass off as pajamas had already practically disintegrated the moment you had put them on. He shucked his bottoms off before retaking his place on top of you in bed.

“So fucking beautiful,” he kissed you again, “so, so pretty. Wanted to make you feel so good f’so long.”

Feeling confident, you cupped his cheek in your palm, “touched myself thinking about this.”

“F—when? Thought about me while you touched yourself? Tell me.” It was a breathless demand, and you could feel his erection throbbing above you.

“The night in the apartment. Came on my fingers, came so hard while I thought of how good you’d fuck me—oh!” Your sexy display was cut short when you felt his fingers brush your clit.

“Yeah? Touched right here and thought of how nice I’d fuck this pussy?” You whimpered at the way he massaged you just right, and his words only added fuel to the fire. “Should’ve just asked me to take care of you, baby, would’ve helped.” God, he was wicked. Such a good man, and so, so wicked for speaking to you like this. You arched your back, and he took the opportunity to slide two fingers into your cunt. “Fuck,” he huffed, delighted by how wet you were for him, and your eyes rolled back, “get yourself this wet? Or is it just me?”

“You, fuck, Jim—it’s you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Cocky bastard.” You managed between whines and gasps.

“You love it.” He continued to push his fingers in and out of you, and a delightful squelching noise filled the bedroom. “Fucking beautiful.” He kept at it for a while longer, enjoying the noises you made for him and the way your face contorted when he hit an especially sensitive spot. When he pulled his fingers from you, you sighed, feeling the low of being empty, until he brought the wet digits to your mouth and encouraged you to clean them off for him. He let out a low groan when you began sucking, using your tongue to gather your slick off from in between them. “Yeah, good girl.”

He slotted himself between your thighs, and you could feel the drag of his cock over your stomach. You looked down, wrapping a hand around him and ogling him; so long, so beautifully outlined by thick veins. He gently grasped your wrist, pushing your hand back onto the mattress.

“Wanna make this last.” He half-joked. He kept your arm pinned under him, and you could feel his tip exploring your folds, until finally he pushed himself into you. You let out a shaky, breathless moan as he shallowly thrusted into you, working you open to take him as deep as you could. When he bottomed out, he leaned his forehead against yours, and you could feel the stickiness of sex and sweat on your skin.

“Good, yeah?” He was still being smug, though ensuring you were comfortable. You felt devious, rolling your hips against him and grinning in response, earning a choked “fuck” from him. “Dirty fucking girl.” He pulled out almost entirely before thrusting back into you, forcefully enough that you felt your back drag against the bed. Your tits bounced as he rocked his hips into you, and he took the opportunity to grab one in his hand, taking the other in his mouth.

“Jim!” You couldn’t remember your own name, could barely remember who you were or how you got here; all you could think was Jim, Jim, Jim. “Fu—uck, oh my god, Jim!”

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood?” He was incapable of being serious even in the most intimate of moments, knowing full well that the people in this house were the only living souls for miles. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who’s fucking you?” Your lips parted, letting out small moans and whimpers of his name with every thrust.

You could feel his fingers on your clit again, and the feeling was electric; maybe it was because you had wanted him for so long, and tried to deny it for almost as long, but you’d never felt this good—never felt this perfectly sated. The way he kneaded your swollen bud while pounding into you hard enough to make the bedframe shake, the way he whispered such filthy things into the skin of your breasts, the way he wanted you too.

“Gonna—Jim, I’m gonna cum!” You tried to move in sync with him, but it was all too much; he was everywhere, and it was going to be your undoing. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to fuck you deeper. He leaned over you, tracing his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your face in one hand.

“Cum for me, baby. So good, my perfect girl, cum on my cock like this.” You were as good as gone. You felt your legs tighten around his body at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. You dug your nails into the skin of his arm, and he growled at the way your body responded to him. “Yeah, like that—just like that, sweetheart.”

You were trembling, dripping down his cock and unsure of how to rationalize this amount of pleasure in the midst of end times. Who cared, anyway? You felt fuzzy, barely registering Jim’s words as his strokes became messier and rushed, catching up to you with his own high.

“Want it inside,” you mumbled through your haze, “please, inside.”

“Can’t fucki—can’t say that baby, can’t risk it.”

“Please…” You knew how stupid it was, knew that he would have to say no, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.

“When we get out of England—when we get out of England, I’ll fill you up as much as you want. Yeah?” He slammed himself into you, and his words bounced around inside of your head: “When we get out,” “as much as you want.” If you weren’t so spent, you’d cum for him again from that statement alone. “Promise I will, whenever you want it, baby.”

“Mm.” You sighed contentedly at his assurance. “Tummy.”

“Yeah, good girl, gonna paint you with my cum.” He groaned when you reached up to brush your fingers down his happy trail.

“Give it to me. Please, Jim. Needed it f’so long.” Your mouth hung open, sensitive and sore from his cock and his hands, and somehow still so needy for him, desperate to see him to completion. He buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent and letting your moans fill his ears as his hips stuttered and he pulled out. You felt his knuckles against your stomach as he stroked himself, finally feeling the warmth of his spend land and spread across your abdomen with a long moan of your name. You stayed like that, both of you breathing heavily, Jim lying on top of you. The gluey feeling of his cum on your stomach and your own between your thighs only heightened when he sat up on his elbow, looking down at you to appreciate how pretty you looked after being fucked out, and you could see the strands of cum dripping between your bodies.

“So beautiful.” He kissed you again, and despite the passion from the last kisses still being present, he was significantly gentler with you in your bleary state.

You blinked up at him, smiling through the fog in your brain, and hugging him close to you. “Gonna have to change your bandages. Covered in your own cum.”

“But what a way to go, right?” He laughed, and you buried your face into him further. “Tomorrow,” he promised. “Need a towel?”

“Would it be gross to sleep like this?”

“Gross? No. Uncomfortable? Maybe.”

“I’ll take my chances. Too tired to wash off.”

“As long as you’re alright.” He brushed your hair away from your eyes, maneuvering himself to look down at you while you were pressed to his chest.

“Feel amazing.” You reassured him. “Should’ve said something earlier.”

“No,” Jim pet your hair, smoothing it down over the back of your head, “this was perfect timing.”

“Perfect timing.” You murmured his words back to him in agreement.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #28 days later fanfiction #jim 28 days later #28 days later #jim 28 days later x reader #28 days later jim x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut

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warren-keplers-funk-band · 1 month

Text

i've had bewitched, bothered and bewildered stuck in my head ever since the episode titles came out... and thinking about this song in relation to buck and buddie is. kind of driving me insane

"men are not a new sensation," in relation to buck's bisexuality?

"i'm wild again, beguiled again/ a simpering, whimpering child again," something something buck retreating to his younger self's habits, naive, reckless, desperate. maybe acknowledging his growth

"lost my heart, but what of it/ he is cold i agree/ he can laugh, but i love it/ although the laugh's on me," tell me this doesn't read like buck being jealous of marisol, feeling his love is unrequited, appreciating eddie and eddie's happiness from afar but not feeling worthy of him

"i'll sing to him, each spring to him/ and long for the day when i'll cling to him," this kind of speaks to me of buck's self-sacrificial nature, how he wants to be needed, wants to be used, how his love language to eddie is acts of service... but then like. also allowing himself to want things

"he's a fool," they're both oblivious soo

"i'm in love and don't i show it," you certainly do, babes. in fact you've done nothing but show it since your second episode together

"i've sinned a lot," this accompanied by the "i can be oversexed again," seems very buck 1.0-specific to me. again maybe he's retreating? or acknowledging his growth? especially since his old player tendencies were literally brought up in 7x01. by himself. which eddie immediately amended by saying that he's not like that anymore. idk, it just feels relevant

"and worship the trousers that cling to him," ok let's be real, not to be a simp on main, but we've all seen ryan guzman's legs. also that man is caked up

"when he talks, he is seeking/ words to get off his chest," now THIS. this means a lot to me. i'm already so crazy insane about eddie slowly opening up and being more vulnerable, especially with buck. and ryan and oliver have both confirmed that buck and eddie going to be a lot more open with each other and lean on each other this season. eddie's not great with words, but he's slowly starting to be able to ask buck for help with chris directly, tells him his problems... and i think buck sees that, and is really proud of him for it

"vexed again, perplexed again," and "burned a lot, but learned a lot," both kind of feel to me like references to buck's (and eddie's honestly) history with dating, how everyone leaves him, dazed and confused, not knowing what he did wrong.. but again! i think we've seen a lot of growth with buck in this respect. like, he's learning not to settle. i got the impression that he broke things off with natalia not the other way around, which is a breakthrough for him honestly.

the song has sort of a bittersweet ending honestly, which i think might mean we'll get some angst. like maybe buck and eddie will. encounter some problems in their relationship, or eddie rejects buck or something. obviously that's wild spec but like let me live??

i want to clarify i'm not delulu i don't think the 100th episode will be super buck-centric despite being called 'buck, bothered and bewildered' considering precedent with 'buck, actually' (even though i personally wouldn't mind that, he's my blorb) i was just listening to the song bc it's on my writing playlist and had many thoughts and feelings. feel free to ignore

#whatever happens i'm excited for the episode #i think it'll be a special one #i just have a good feeling about it #shit will go down #buck bothered and bewildered #911 #911 spec #911 speculation #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #buddie #eddie diaz #long post

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saetoru · 1 year

Note

oliver is experienced, kind of a fuck boy we already know but i want to be the one who tames him ❣️❣️ pussy so good it changes his life jdndkfnckndkdnf

FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING — OLIVER AIKU.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ oliver aiku x reader — 1.2k words — for the first time ever, oliver wants to stay

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, fwb! oliver, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby + princess), slightly angst ending idk

— notes ⋮ u right nonnie, pussy so powerful he becomes a lover boy 😍

oliver can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this—in fact, he thinks this might be the first. there’s something about the way you cling to him, he thinks, something about the way you wrap those arms around his neck and pull him in so close, he can feel the thrum of your heart right against his. and maybe, if he was a cliche man, he’d almost think your hearts beat in sync.

like right now, for example—he’s pretty sure his heart is lodged in his throat as he stares down at you, watching the way your face morphs with pleasure. he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, doesn’t understand why his face buries into the crook of your neck or why his lips press those heated kisses along your skin. his hands are shaky, just barely perched on your hips as he rolls his into you, almost afraid to grasp you too roughly in case you disappear.

“f-fuck,” he rasps, voice gravelly against your ear, soft pants fanning against the skin and making you shiver. “fuck, baby…f-feel so good.”

“‘m close,” you whine, and he wonders if your voice has always been this dangerous—drawing him in to his doom like a siren calls to her victims. oliver thinks he’d let you, he thinks he’d let you end him here and now if you want, so long as he gets to fall right here in your arms.

“yeah?” he breathes, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw, nipping at the skin as his cock slides past your drenched folds, hitting deep against your spot with every roll of his hips. “you close? ‘m close too, princess. you wanna cum with me, huh?”

“yeah,” you gasp softly, nodding sweetly as you wrap those arms around his neck again, the weight so perfect against him. you fit so perfect against him, it’s something he’s never taken the time to notice about anyone before.

oliver aiku has never felt this way before—and something tells him you’re about to ruin his life.

he’s used to fucking around—he’s used to the pretty tears and choked sobs of girls he leaves behind, the heartbreak reflecting along the streams of their cheeks. and he thinks you’ll be the same, thinks you’ll plead him to stay as he moves onto the next. but you don’t—you let him come and go as he pleases, like he’s another option on your list that doesn’t matter. at first he thinks it’s his pride that’s wounded—later, he realizes it’s his heart.

it doesn’t sit right with him, being just another option on a lonely night. it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue as he thinks about how another set of hands might meet your waist or how another pair of lips might press against your skin. he can’t stop himself from thinking about you as he jogs in the mornings, or as he takes breaks between practice, or even has he blocks a goal during a game. it shocks him the first time—makes him do a double take as he realizes he’s searching for you in the crowd as he hears the cheers of his name.

oliver aiku has never felt this way before—in love and down so bad, it makes the tips of his fingers shake.

it’s funny, he thinks, almost like the universe is mocking him as the one person he takes an interest in seems so indifferent to his presence. you don’t beg him to stay in the mornings, and you don’t try desperately to hang off his arm. there’s something ruthless about that—something cruel about how you don’t let him keep you by his side.

“so fuckin’ tight,” he moans, hips rolling into your cunt sloppily as he chases his nearing high, “god—‘s like you were made for me, yeah? like this pussy was made for me.”

“d-don’t get a big head,” you stutter, whimpering as his thumb rolls over your clit.

there’s a clench in his heart at your words—like a rejection of its own that you don’t think he fits into you like he seems to believe. something in him makes him ache to get you to admit he does, desperate to hear you mumble about how you’ve never had someone like him, how you need him, how you want him to stay.

he thinks he’ll stay if you ask, thinks he’ll let you keep him and make him yours if you just tell him to stay.

but you don’t. you don’t seem to care about him that much, don’t seem to bat a lash his way once he’s had his fill of you. he’s attractive, you can admit that much—but nothing about oliver aiku makes you want to keep him, and the thought makes his throat feel dry and hard to swallow.

“you don’t think so, princess?” he grins down at you, but if you look closer, you might just see the hurt in his bicolored eyes—you might just see the heartbreak pooling in his irises.

“fuck—more, oliver,” you whine, back arching up as you roll your hips to meet his thrusts, feeling his skin slap against yours as the blunt head of his cock kisses your sweet spot perfectly. you mewl as he speeds his pace up, clinging to his body as his girth splits you open and his balls clap against your ass. “‘m gonna…gonna cum,” you sob.

“then cum for me, baby,” he whispers, and before he can even think, he’s pressing his lips against yours. he doesn’t do this—he never does, never kisses anyone he beds so intimately. but you kiss him back, and it’s cruel the way you let him have his way only to brush him off as soon as he’s done. “fuck—i w-wanna feel you, kay? cum with me.”

“‘m cumming,” you cry, and you do—coming undone hard on his cock and clenching around him tight enough his head spins, tight enough that he doesn’t think as he babbles away his next words.

“that’s it,” he groans, “fuck you feel so good—love this pussy…love you.” he’s spilling his cum into you as soon as the words fall off his tongue, ragged breaths meeting the crook of your neck as he trembles over your body, hips rolling sloppy and desperate as his cock twitches with every thick rope of cum. “fuck, fuck—‘s good, so good,” he chants, letting out a soft whimper as your walls clamp around him as fucks himself through his high.

it’s silent for a bit, just the harsh pants as you both catch your breaths filling the quiet room, the weight of his words clinging to the heavy air and lingering over your heads.

“you say a lot of things you don’t mean when you get your dick wet, don’t you?” you finally break the silence and murmur as he collapses onto your body when he finishes, and the words are like knives against his skin, carving deep gashes that bleed onto you as he lays over your figure.

he wonders if that’s what it’ll take for you to believe him, if he has to bleed out in your arms for you to finally take him seriously.

“who says i don’t mean what i said?” he chuckles, but it’s watery, a little choked as his head tucks under your chin and sinks into your chest.

“i know how guys like you are,” you hum—and because you’re cruel, you thread your fingers into his damp hair, scratching at his scalp as you deliver the words that shatter his heart. “i know this isn’t gonna go anywhere.”

and somehow, without even trying, you’ve got oliver aiku wrapped tightly around your fingers—and he thinks it’s a cruel twist of fate that you don’t even want him there.

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#thirsts.#oliver x reader #oliver x you #oliver smut #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku x you #oliver aiku smut #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk smut

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totallynuwonhere · 2 months

Text

2nd Gen Shawpack Pookies

I’ve had them in my notes for AGES and I’ve still yet to finish a design, but i do intend on creating little skits of them cuz of how much I’ve invested giving them all personalities and pinterest boards. (If this isn’t me exhibiting my deep love for the Redactedverse idk what is)

Some descriptions are longer than the others, I’ve obviously put more thought into certain characters

•Shaw Twins

- both children are sadly ungifted in the kitchen, despite the fact that David has made them his little helpers when since they were little. Multiple flames have been put out because of them.

-Both do share a love for nature like their father.

Gabriella Shaw (Gabby)🫶🏻

- Angel carbon copy with a dash of Gabriel’s silliness and courage, which always made David smile.

- Natural born Leader. Despite being the eldest child (4 fucking minutes) David has never burdened them with the responsibility or thought of inheriting the business. She stepped into the leadership role on her own, with more brighter approach, personality wise.

- Rollerskates, Angel started taking her to roller rinks since age 6 and she loves taking Lyss and KC with her

Callum Grey Shaw 🌱

-Yes he’s named after the sweet Caelum. David wanted to commemorate his childhood friend.

- Inherited David’s resting bitch face, if you point it out he’ll even growl like he does.

- Great Observer. Because his sister was the more outgoing one of them, he was always the listener, making him more emotionally aware, noticing things most people miss.

- Loves sitcoms. He’s probably watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine so many times he can name episodes in order. This also translates his love for the security company his dad runs. Always begging David to take him to work with him. (I think we know who inherits the company)

•Talbot Troop

-Asher is the only one I picture having multiple kids with a range of age gaps.

-No doubt the most outgoing ones of the pack.

August Talbot (Auggie) 🍕

- Foodie

- Life of the party, stealin’ hearts with his million watt smile

- DDR is his sport

Kelcee Talbot (KC/CeeCee) 🧠

- Designated driver of the group

- Straight A student. When she was young she’d share all the interesting facts she’d pick up on to her parents and it always astounded Asher, how she can command a room, especially being the SOMEWHAT, mellow one among the three.

Oliver James Talbot (OJ/Ollie) 🪲

- Very inquisitive

- Youngest of the pack (the only 7yr old in a group of 17 year olds)

- Has a special bond with Alyssa

•Greer Icon

Alyssa Marie Greer 💥

-Now while i think of Milo and SW as the D.I.N.K (dual income, no kids) couple, and i will somewhat always think that, but— this name crossed my head and I just cannot let it go. IT HONORS MARIE OK—

-Unsurprisingly is always the best dressed. Milo is very proud.

-Has a very ‘takes no bull personality’ making them the most intimidating out of group.

- Plays archery competitively

- Straightforward

-Weirdly great with babies, explains her close bond with Oliver

•Collins

Sean Riley Collins 🥐

- aka Peace Officer Collins

- The code name speaks for itself, he is very much like his old man when it comes to ensuring his friends don’t do anything stupid, and in the very common occasions they do, he of course serves them with a patented Collins lecture.

- He may be half vamp, but that doesn’t mean he has to have a mundane food pallet, this man can COOK and bake, a soft, crispy shelled sourdough being one of his specialties

•Solaire

Hugo Solaire 🎭

- theater kid

- sarcastic, confident, somewhat frivolous, despite his royal status, which gets him in trouble for

- May or may not have a thing for the alpha’s daughter.

- Like Vincent, he’s mostly only close to the Collins’ but has occasionally hanged out with the shaw pack.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted fandom #redacted fanfic #redacted david #redacted asher #redacted sam #redacted vincent #redacted milo #I’ve had this cooking for months it’s krazy how im now only getting it out my drafts #2nd gen pookies

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serenescribe · 5 months

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Bit of an odd request but I was listening to a bit of music and I was hit by an idea-

Idk if you know the tale of the Snow Queen, but essentially snow queens powerful ice mirror shatters, all but two pieces are recovered. One shard lands in a boys eye making him turn icey and Queen snatched him up.

However consider- Snow King Silver dragging a “mortal” who has a piece of something that was his. Unaware said “mortal” is actually a fae whose intrigued by this King’s combination of harshness yet tenderness.

the snow prince Twisted Wonderland | 3.9k Summary: A mysterious spell afflicts one Lilia Vanrouge, encasing his heart in frigid cold. AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51960883

FREED FROM UNI, I AM! I actually had this written for a while, but put off posting it to save it for a more appropiate season. I really love Snow Queen retellings and AUs, so this was a LOT of fun to write! Thank you, Olive! :D

(An aside: There are extremely minor spoilers for TWST CH7 in here; they're all under the cut and mentioned in passing. If you're trying to avoid every little detail of CH7, I'd suggest passing up on this!)

In the heat of a sweltering summer that sweeps Briar Valley like a storm, Lilia feels a prick of something sharp enter his eyes.

It happens so fast, so swiftly, that had Lilia not been one of the fair folk, he likely would not have noticed it at all. If he were a human, for example, with their sluggish reflexes and oblivious tendencies, lacking a natural affinity for magic in comparison to the fae, Lilia would have chalked up the prick in his eye to a stray lash falling in, rubbing around until he feels as though he’s flicked it out before moving on with his day.

But Lilia is not human. He is fae.

He knows, at once, despite trying and failing to dig out whatever it is that has entered his eye, that it is not a stray lash or a speck of dust. There is a strange magic emanating off of the tiny sharp splinter, an aura he picks up on in an instant. It’s peculiar, the way it makes him shudder as he brushes against it, the sensation likened to the cold of a dead winter. It is unlike anything he has ever felt before.

But gradually, Lilia has to put a pause on his efforts. He is out on a journey to meet with humans for talks of peace, for their centuries-long wars are slowly crawling to an end. His soldiers look at him in concern, clicking their tongues as they ask him, “General, are you alright? Do we need to stop for a while?”

“I am fine,” Lilia says, waving his hand in dismissal. “I simply got something in my eye, is all.”

It is not wrong to say that, for it is not a lie at all. But Lilia knows as well as anyone else that the strange prick of magic infesting his eye warrants further inspection.

Later, he tells himself, as they continue on with their journey on horseback, for the stalemate in their war has allowed for easier travel through ways of steed.

Time ticks by, the lazy heat of summer dipping into the beginnings of a chilly autumn. But despite the changing seasons, the months that have passed since that fateful summer day, Lilia comes no closer to discovering what it is that ails him so deeply.

He is not oblivious to the changes occurring to him; quite the opposite, in fact. Lilia has carried about him a strange self-awareness about his shifting attitude, only realising the differences in how he’s been acting when he reflects on the changes in hindsight. He’s never exactly been the pinnacle of warmth, and especially not after his beloved friends died, but he’s always held a fondness in his heart for the few he opens up to — namely his second in command, Baul Zigvolt, and the young heir to the throne and son of his deceased friend, Malleus Draconia.

But now?

Lilia stifles a sigh as he reminisces, trudging through the gardens of the castle. The leaves are shifting to warm hues, leaves fluttering in shades of vermillion red and golden yellow, and the fallen leaves give a satisfying crunch when his boots stomp into them.

He exhales, twisting his lips as he raises his head up to the world around him. It looks as it always has, Lilia knows that well. And yet… something about it has felt different since that day.

Everything has begun to feel… boring. Banal and bland at best, wickedly ugly at worst. The crunch of the leaves irritates his ears, the drought of the autumn air makes his nose feel too sore. He turns his nose up at the food the castle staff serve, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell of a dish he used to love, and he turns down whoever offers him a mug of beer, the foam that guzzles over the rim leaving his hands sticky and gross.

Lilia knows he’s changing. It’s not just his emotions, but also in the way he sees the world — everything is so intimately different in the worst way, and every waking hour he spends feels like a chore, an obligation he drags himself through. Where he used to spend time with Baul and his fellow men, or with Malleus most of all, being the one to raise him since he hatched, he now spends it all… alone.

But knowing something logically is different from knowing it emotionally. There are only so many apologies he can force out with his insincere tongue, schooling his expression into a facsimile of sincere regret. At the end of the day — of each day — Lilia truly feels nothing at all except the vacant void of a howling gelidity, frostbite nipping through his very veins.

At the very least, his men have respected this change, regardless of how perplexed they seem to be. Baul had pulled him aside once or twice to ask if he was feeling fine, but had he not been so preoccupied with his daughter’s sudden interest in the Valley’s newest dentist, a peculiar human who’d chosen to move here, of all places, he would have surely pressed the matter further.

On the other hand…

“Lilia!”

He sucks in a breath at the sound of that familiar voice. Once, it had lightened his heart to be greeted to such a cry upon returning to the castle from one of his many campaigns. But now?

“Hello, Malleus,” Lilia greets, making a deliberate effort to soften his voice as he turns to greet the young prince. Malleus has grown a great deal since he first hatched, now towering slightly above Lilia. Still, the boy has an inclination for continuing to call out to him childishly — something that had endeared Lilia in times past, but now only serves to irritate him by no fault of Malleus at all. “Is there something you require of me?”

“Not require, per se,” Malleus answers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He toys with the chain of his cloak with one hand. “I was merely hoping that you could spare the time to join me today for some tea. It has been quite a while, after all. I understand you’ve been busy as of late, but you do not appear to have anything on today, so I thought—”

“You’re rambling again.” Abruptly, Malleus’ mouth snaps shut. Lilia winces internally at his misstep; why had he interrupted the prince like that, in so cold a tone? He sighs. “Apologies. I have been under… a great deal of stress recently.”

“It is no matter, Lilia.”

Well that’s good, at least, Lilia thinks. Averting his gaze, he says, “Unfortunately, I do not believe I can join you today.”

A pause.

“Truly?” He hears it, the surprise in Malleus’ voice, mixing in with a forlorn misery. “I was certain that you had nothing to do today, given your schedule…”

“I—” Pressing his lips together, Lilia thinks before he says, rather stiffly, “It is true that I may not have anything on. But I would like some time to myself if you would be so kind, my prince.”

Ah, another slip up of his. To refer to Malleus by his title rather than his name… the gap between them only widens, and the only reason why Lilia worries about it is because he fears that he may go too far, say the wrong thing when it’s far too late to take anything back. But what’s done is done; Lilia raises his head in time to see Malleus recoil, hurt glimmering in those chartreuse eyes of his.

If Lilia stays longer… will he continue to mess up so miserably?

Before Malleus can speak, Lilia cuts in. “If there is nothing else that requires my attention,” he says, “I would like to return to my walk. Good day, Malleus. Give my regards to the queen.”

And, abruptly, he turns on his heels and leaves.

Oh, Lilia knows that Malleus is displeased. He knows it because, within mere moments, there is a gentle flutter of snow wafting down from the skies. He raises his head, blinking up at the fluttering snowflakes — so delicate and fragile, a byproduct of the prince’s tumultuous emotions, his magic far too powerful for him to properly handle when his emotions explode past his limits.

And yet, when he sets his eyes upon the swirling snow, Lilia feels…

Something.

He raises a hand, watching a snowflake land on his finger — so tiny, so delicate, an eight-pointed speck weaved into such an elegant pattern. It melts almost instantly against the warm flush of his skin — and yet, Lilia is transfixed, mouth parting slightly as he steps back, watching as the snow begins to flurry down faster and faster, cascading through the skies. How long has it been since he’d felt anything other than such apathy, such revulsion, such irritation and disgust? Now, Lilia only feels a sense of childlike wonder.

When was the last time he stopped to stare at the snow as it fell? He cannot remember. Has he ever stopped to observe it like this? Or had war stripped away such inconsequential pastimes from his life?

Lilia does not know how long he wanders around, watching the snowflakes dance until he goes numb, so numb with the cold. He only knows that his fingers are frozen and his lips are blue when he finally returns to the castle in a daze, barely cognisant of the way his entire body is battered, pushed past the natural limitations of his faerie strength.

Winter crashes into Briar Valley like an enemy ambush, a sudden attack spurned from the shadows of nothingness. It is the worst winter they have had in an eternity, everyone says, peering outside the frost-tinted windows as they bask within the toasty walls of the castle grounds; the fire-spells keep everyone warm for as long as they stay inside.

With the thick layers of snow barring any method of safe travel, the ongoing talks of their peace treaties with the humans have been temporarily suspended — more for the children of men’s sakes than that of the fae. If she so willed it, Queen Maleficia could wash away the snow with a flick of her wrist, but such matters, in her opinion, are trivial; nature is not something to be fixed at an instant, so why should she expend her energy for such things?

So during those days, cooped up within the castle walls with little to do, Lilia winds up lounging in the cushioned nook of a window, a little alcove tucked away in a winding tower towards the murky corners of the castle. Few fae ever roam here, save for a scant few servants pattering about cleaning the dusty hallways, and Lilia spends many languid hours with his head pressed against the cool glass, so intensely transfixed on the dancing snowflakes outside.

They are beautiful. Perhaps they are the last bits of perfection he shall ever witness in his life.

He has found no information about the shard that pricked his eye, nor has he found any sort of cure. Lilia has spent many a month searching, sifting through the treasure trove of books in the castle’s library to no avail. He had, at one point, considered going to the queen and telling her of his predicament — “In the month of summer, I believe a magical spell of some kind has afflicted my eye.” — but his own apathy stops him every time; there is simply no point in dragging others into this matter, not because Lilia does not wish to trouble them, but because, try as he might, the larger part of him just doesn’t care.

So, with his head pressed against the cold glass, Lilia closes his eyes and sighs.

The winter solstice is approaching, the longest night of the year. As nocturnal fae, creatures of the night, it is a joyous cause for celebration for their kind. Despite the blizzard that rages across the Valley night and day, many servants, guardsmen, people of their kingdom have been looking forward to the events; the castle town shall be open to all, shielded from the elements. All fae, young and old, can look forward to a night of dancing and festivities, dining on the finest food at the banquets, and celebrating the longevity of the night.

In years past, Lilia would have looked forward to it. But now, like everything else in his life, he feels nothing at all.

“Lilia? Are you here?”

He stifles a groan at the sound of Malleus’ voice. Again and again, the boy continues to scour for him, to seek him out and spend time with him. Lilia tries to indulge him, he really does! But each occasion spent together, needing to force himself to fake sincerity the whole way through — “Oh yes, Malleus, I would like to try the new blend of tea! Thank you kindly for the offer. How is your grandmother doing? I heard she has spent some time with you as of late—”

He can’t stand it. He can’t. It gets harder and harder with each passing day, the chill that permeates his skin sinking deeper and deeper, turning his heart into one carved of ice. His eye prickles with pain whenever he grits his teeth in a false smile; across the table from him, the young prince looks detestable, a selfish beast with far too much time, uncaring of what his servants are subjected to in their indulgence of him.

So he avoids him. As soon as Lilia hears him, he flicks his wrist, a swell of magic surrounding him. Bat-formed, Lilia takes to the rafters, huddling away in the corners of the ceiling as he listens to Malleus come and go. It is only when he hears that familiar voice fading away that he dares to leave, flapping his little wings as he makes a break for another isolated corner of the labyrinthian castle.

The day of the winter solstice arrives, and with it comes the worst blizzard the valley has ever seen.

Cold winds lash against the fortifications of the castle, howling and rattling. Snow crashes from the sky, piling higher and higher upon the dead ground. And yet the castle is alight with the buzz of festivities — the many servants bustle about, wrapping up the last of their preparations, ensuring the banquet is ready with food for all, that the decor floats about in place, that the spells wrapping the castle and its town in a bubble of warmth remain solidly intact.

Throughout the day, Lilia sticks to the shadows, hovering out of sight. Today he feels… he doesn’t know how to describe it. Cold and dead as usual, his heart no longer the warm, affectionate thing it was before — but beneath the thick layers of apathy, there is something nestled beneath: the barest twitch of a muscle, a flutter of something. Lilia finds himself distracted with it the entire day as he meanders about, waiting for the clock to tick to a point when the festivities can start.

And when they do begin, the many residents of the valley teleporting into the castle en masse… Oh, how does Lilia even begin to describe them? Laughter rings freely, the merry melody of music from a string band sweeping the air as dancers circle across the floor. Wine glasses clink as people toast to prosperity and magic, hoping to see the weather ease up soon, and even the queen herself is out and about, walking amidst the crowd, a smile on her face as she mingles with the few faeries bold enough to approach her.

But Lilia—

He feels nothing watching all this. Nothing at all.

And yet… there is something else. That peculiar emotion buried underneath… it sings to him, calls to him, as though someone’s voice were tugging at a string. It only strengthens as the night goes on, likened to an unbearable itch; it is the first blissful thing he has felt in what feels like an eternity, and Lilia—

He misses it. He misses being able to love, to feel something other than apathy at best, and all these horrible, miserable emotions at worst — a repugnance, a rage, an irascibility that sparks every time someone tries to converse with him. Lilia misses being able to love freely, his heart softening as he grows older, brought on by the loss he’s experienced, and the love he mustered up to be able to raise Malleus into the man he is today.

So who can blame him for slipping off, for finding a way out of the castle grounds? Lilia answers the call, sneaking past guards who are far too drunk on wine, laughing and shouting as they play games at their stations. He does not bother with whisking up thick clothes for himself; Lilia merely plunges into the blizzard, battered at once by shrieking winds and a pelting of snow against his face, of a storm so deadly chilling that it would ravage even the strongest of faes.

And yet, he does not feel cold.

He grits his teeth as he presses on, dragging his legs through the thick boughs of snow. Lilia knows not how long it takes for him to trudge, only that it feels like forever — but he knows he is getting somewhere, because with each step he takes, the tugging in his chest grows and grows, the intensity of the emotion exciting him for the first time in months.

Is this the answer to his ailment?

Is there a cure tucked within the heart of the storm?

Lilia takes one step, and then another. He takes a third, and—

All at once, everything stops.

The wind dies away. The blizzard softens to a gentle snowfall. Little flakes of snow dance through the air as Lilia walks forward, head turning to and fro. How peculiar this is! He raises a hand, watching a flake fall into the open palm of his hand and rest there, and it is only the sound of hooves clumping against snow that snaps him out of his reverie.

Lilia turns his head, and sees a child.

A boy, who gazes at him with wide eyes that reflect the northern lights — auroras of shifting veins tinted shades of pink, purple, and blue, lights that Lilia has only gotten the chance to see once during a journey across the world. His hair sweeps across his forehead, locks of the purest silver as though spun from the nighttime stars, streaked with white like the pristine paleness of snow. He sits on a white stag, ice-spun crystals hanging from its glacial antlers, and around him is a fur-lined cloak and hood that swallows him whole, far too big for his tiny body.

Lilia’s breathing hitches—

Because the boy before him is the most beautiful thing he has seen in a long time.

“Hello,” the boy says after a while, a glimmering curiosity in those wide eyes of his. His mount trots forward, bringing him closer. “I’ve never seen you before,” he says, looking at Lilia closely.

At that, Lilia laughs. “I could say the same to you, little one.” He rests a hand on his hips, relishing in the joy, the curiosity, the emotions that flood him in full force; it has been so long! “It is a rare sight to see a young boy riding a stag in a storm like this.”

The boy’s face falls, and Lilia feels… worried. Did he upset him somehow? “I’ve been trying to stop the storm for a while now,” the boy explains, auroral eyes flicking to the storm that rages outside the bubble they’re within, continuing to ravage the valley to no end. “B-but it’s my first time really trying such a thing, and I don’t… really know how.”

Ah, Lilia thinks, finally coming to understand. A lost child. A boy with power over the very elements itself, who can control the season of cold and snow. And yet, who would place such responsibility upon a child, one so very young? He feels the fervent urge to lean in and coddle him, to reassure him that it’s alright, you’re trying your very best, I can help you if you just let me.

And why shouldn’t he do such a thing?

“I can help you, if you would like.”

In a flash, those pupils lock on him. “Would you?” the boy breathes. “I-I wouldn’t want to trouble you, mister—”

“It’s no trouble at all!” Lilia insists, stepping forward with a beaming smile on his face. He reaches out for the stag, feeling the beast nuzzle against the palm of his hand as he strokes it gently. Why should he return to the castle, to that unyielding, endless void of apathy and misery? Here, with the boy with eyes like the auroras and hair like the stars, Lilia feels something — the warm glow of parental affection, already growing so attached to such a young child.

“Then…” the boy mumbles, “would you come with me?”

Lilia only smiles. “Of course.”

And as he clambers onto the back of the steed, he asks, before they leave, one final question: “Pray tell, little one, what is your name?”

“My name?” the boy echoes, furrowing his brows. “I… I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

Lilia arches an eyebrow. What kind of a lonely life must this boy live, if he has not even considered his lack of a name? “Then would you mind if I gave you one?” he offers. Oh, it is such an incredibly forward move to suggest such a thing, with how important names are to his kind. But already, he is attached, his very soul bound to this child who gazes at him in wonder at the possibility of wielding his own name.

And the boy nods.

“Silver,” Lilia says, the name coming to him at once. Like the shine of the gleaming moon, the glitter of the stars, the wispy fall of the snow around them. Love blooms in his chest, the warmth cradling his very soul; Lilia curls his arms around the boy, his body so cold even through the chilling fabric of his cloak, pulling him against his chest into a hug. “That shall be your name.”

“Silver,” the boy echoes, testing it out on his tongue. He tilts his head back, a small smile gracing his rounded cheeks as he looks up at Lilia. “Thank you, mister. Could I ask what your name is?”

“It is Lilia, dear one,” he croons, relinquishing his name without a second thought. The two of them are bonded in mere moments, Lilia filled with a fulfilment he has not felt since that prick of a shard entered his eye.

There is nothing left for him here. That is what he tells himself as Silver leads them away, commanding his steed to take off into a prancing gallop, bursting from the tranquil heart of the storm into the raging blizzard, whisking them back to their home.

(Lilia fails to notice the figure that bursts through the clearing, chartreuse eyes widening in horror as a mouth parts to scream his name. He does not notice the horned boy who shivers in the cold, eyes wide as the wind whips at his long hair, watching the stag prance away, the boy who leads it ripping his guardian away from his grasp.)

#twst #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twst silver #my writing tag #writing requests #twst fanfiction #twst writing #uhh i'm gonna start moving my fics to ao3 in the future so. rip tumblr drabbles tag? aha #need to do housekeeping when i have the energy...#anyways hi i'm listening to a 3 hour video of 50+ languages of let it go from frozen while prepping all this #help me :')

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mrfoox · 1 year

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How to explain to people I care for how special they are to me without being creepy 😔

#miranda talking shit #Like dude... If youre one of the 3 people i want to be bothered by... Youre so fucking special #If youre one of the 3 people i can hold eye contact with for more than two seconds per conversation youre so amazing #If youre one of the 2 people i can talk to for hours without feeling social/mental fatigue... Youre top tier #Like i likr a lot of people but there are so few who i can say do not tire me or i am very truly comfortable with #And i wish i could make them understand how big of a deal it is for me... For me that is so special. I dont have many people like that #I have people i can allow to bother me and will be okay with it but only a couple i genuinely want them to bother me #Text me call me talk to me whenever i love you and am not ever bothered by you and i always have time for you #Fabian is definitely one and i think he doesnt get it bc we have gone through many periods of weeks where we talk daily #Sometimes we dont for weeks at all. But hes one of the rare people i can feel ... Im not fatigued by.#I love many people but most will take different amounts of social energy from me. Some more than others so i really have to be in the right #Place to be able to handle them. So when i find the people who i dont get that with who i can just be around and talk with without feeling #The fatigue im... I wish i could explain how truly special they are to me. Everyone and everything tire me but you #And oliver is one out of 3 people (my mom being one and Linnéa friend since we were 13 is another) who i can look in the eyes #For many times for long periods and i dont feel .. Uneasy. Like thats actually amazing. The privilege and/or superpower you have is huge #Idk what it is with oliver. Idk i know i like him but the fact im so comfortable is wild. Usually around people i have a crush on i am shy #Blushing and looking away. With him im like 👀 hey... Yea . I dont mind him seeing me and i hate being seen by everyone #Maybe its bc hes so ... Unbothered? I feel not judged. I feel like he can see me and not judge and thats sadly shocking for me

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ghostiiess · 11 months

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[NSB HEADCANONS] - how the nsb boys would give you the princess treatment

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pov: the title says it all!

warnings: princess treatment i think? super fluff and cute! i think that's all? let me know if there's more!

type: fluff and wholesome!!

members: all of them!

each member have five of them!

reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! :D

OLIVER

i feel like oliver would let you nap in his arms!

he's so cute :(

if see you being sleepy? this man put his arms around your shoulders and put your head on his shoulders while playing with your hair

he would also carry you with his arms when you're hurt

your shoulder hurt? he'll carry you

your feet are sore? he'll carry you

this man won't let you walk if you're in pain

and even if you weren't, he love carrying you around

he feel like a prince

next thing i think oliver moy would do, would be him buying thing you wanted or needed but never bought

you said you wanted to have the latest kpop album? he'll buy it for you if it can make you happy

need new pens? BYE HE'S ON HIS WAY TO YOUR FAVORITE PAPETERY STORE

he only want your happiness

you said you loved the dress in that clothes shop? he'll buy it for you

AND WILL MAKE A DATE JUST SO YOU CAN WEAR THE DRESS

isn't he the sweetest??

oli is just super caring and cute, you can't tell me otherwise

ofc, he would listen to you when you're angry, sad, upset..

we all know how oli is with the boys and the media team

he's super respectful and wouldn't mind if he had to sit for like 3 hours straight on your bed and listen to you venting

he would love that actually

communications is key and knowing you can be vulnerable and showing your true emotions and your true self in front of him, make him super happy and proud

finally, we all know how i can't stop saying that oliver is a respectful guy and a super caring boy

because it's true!

so i think he'll always make sure you're happy and comfortable

he know emotions can be up and down and all, but he loves seeing you happy and would always try his best to at least cheer you up and try to make you laugh or smile on a bad day

(rest of the members under the cut!)

SEBASTIAN

first, i think seb would call you with a sweet nickname

like a nickname he don't really use often

we know how seb don't really use nicknames or petnames in a relationship other than babe or baby, so i think he'll find one petname that's really original

seb would also compliment you as much as he can

and he would make you blush and smile with that because this man is so flirty 🙄 istg

we all know how flirty seb is (i already said it lol)

so please..

expect seb to flirt with you and compliment you a lot

like a lot

seb would take you out on dates randomly

it could be on your job, on your work, on your outfit, what you have done today.. everything!

he wouldn't say "join me at this place at this hour"

i think it's a very sebastian moy thing to do

he would just say "be ready, imma pick you up in 1h. wear smth chic like black so we can match"

and he would pick you up with his motorcycle 🏍

seb would also sing you to sleep

and ofc he would love the feeling of you holding super tight on him and your arms all wrapped around his belly

"you're so cute what the hell??" with his soft smile

can't sleep? he'll sing you a soft melody, so it can make you sleepy

no because his voice is relaxing 😭

finally, seb would post you on his social medias

like in their song "COLD WAR" (it's a masterpiece wow) he sing and bye, it's so "satisfaying" idk how to describe it, but yeah

it's your birthday? he'll show you off and wish you a happy birthday on his sc and ig story

he wouldn't mind having a page with tiktoks with you tbh 😭

want to do a tiktok with him? he'll do one and he'll be super happy

and he'll even learn new trends so you can try it together

he love showing you off and that's a fact 😂

JUSTIN

justin would fix your hair and outfit

he's like the fashionista of the group for me

why his outfit always so good-looking

i mean all the boys' outfit are really good-looking, but justin?? damn

he could wear a white tshirt and blue jeans and he would find a way to style it and make it cool

so ofc he would help you with that

he would also make you spotify playlist for every occasion

he would also fix/do your hair (straight them, curl them, brush them...)

and even dye them if that's something you would love to do!

feeling stressed? he have one for you

feeling angry because your parents shouted at you? he have one

for every occasion, justin have one

when he's bored and have time, he create music playlist so if one day you're feeling like that, he'll be able to send it to you!

people who do that >>> i love you omg-

he would put post-it all over your room with sweets messages on it

the messages would be like "hey, you looked cute today"

or like "don't forget to stay hydrathed today!"

or even "you did your best today and i'm so proud of you for that"

justin would also keep all the promises he make

just simple but yet so cute messages to make you smile during the day :)

if he told you that one day he'll bring you out on a stargazing date, he'll do it

like this man won't broke any of his promises

he truly believe in pinky promises (he love doing some with you!!)

so ofc if he had to break it, it would not only break his heart but also make him sad

because jp don't promise something that he know he won't be able to do in the future

the last thing justin would do for this hc would be picking you up when you're tired of walking

so thats why he doesn't really say "i promise you" randomly

unlike oli, he wouldn't pick you off and do piggyback rides or something like that

he'll pick up with his car and would literally be so happy to say "sorry boys, i need to pick up my girl! she's a bit drunk"

bye you weren't even drunk, he just wanted to say that 💀

but anyways, he love picking you up

even if you have your own car and all, he love giving you rides!

RYAN

as we know, ryan love going to the arcade

so i think he would win you plushies

or like anything you loves if you're not into that stuff haha

he love playing with you and saying "this one's for you, y/n"

ryan also love reminding you how he's happy to have you in his life

and he doesn't miss 🤧 wow

so i guess it'll be the same for you

we all know how ryan talk with his best friends

he's not the first guy in the group who'll go "hey man i missed you"

ryan doesn't say things like that without meaning them

he won't tell you a lot that he appreciates you

only times to times

but know he does appreciate you!!

i think ryan would hold your hand in public

anyways-

this man is so so not pda-

like pda only at home!!!

but if he see that is smth that can make you happy and that can make you less stressed and less anxious, he'll do it

because he want you to be happy

and comfortable

another thing nguyen would do to give you the princess treatment would be giving his hoodie to you

and not stressed

sure it's not super woah, but if we know how ryan is, we can clearly tell how precious and how important his clothes are to him

he rarely give others people his clothes (except for the members because they all live in the same house) so if ryan ever give you his hoodie, his cardigan, his vest or like anything related to clothes (except underwear ofc, because no ❤), then you are super lucky, bc except for the boys, he'll never ever ever give his clothes like that

finally, he'll open the door for you

he's a shy (and cute) gentleman, let's say it

simple but yet cute and nice!

KANE

kane would give you massages when you're in pain

HE'S THE MASSAGE BOY IN THE GROUP OKAY?

he love massaging the members

and like all the members love his massage since he's super good and know the perfects techniques

so ofc if your back is sore or like if you have pain on your back, tell kane

he'll also make you know that you're the only one for him

he'll do one for you and it'll make him super happy!

plus, he's super romantic

he'll do like such a cute ambiance

with like candles, soft light, oil, relaxing music..

HIS ROOM IS NOW HIS MASSAGE CABINET, OKAY?

he'll be like "y/n, i love you" or like "you're so pretty"

but istg when this man'll say "you're like the ideal type for me"

BYE CHCEHIIVEHJDS HE WANT US TO DIE OR WHAT??

nah but for real, i think he'll do that

idk how to explain it, help 😍 hope you guys can understand

like ty (aka the manager and his brother), he's searching for a strong and long-time relationship

he believes in soulmates

so if he tell you something like "you're kinda the one for me.." know that he cares a lot about you

and that he see you in his future

kane would leave goodnight texts/ morning texts so when you wake up, you'll think about him

when you say, "i'm going to sleep" he'll wait for like two hours so he know you're not on your phone or at least not checking your messages

like this man would wait just so you can have a surprise tomorrow 😭

his goodmorning and goodnight texts would be so cute

"hey i know you're sleeping rn, but i just wanted to say that you were so cute today and that i love you very much. may your night be blessed with sweets dreams and a nice healing comfort. sweet dreams my lover, we'll talk more tomorrow"

"good morning my pretty y/n. i hope you slept well and you didn't do nightmares, if so, you can tell me and i'll listen to you :) i wish you an amazing and fantastic day. i love you, and i can't wait to talk to you more today. much love baby <3"

kane would also bring you flowers

spoilers: sometimes he'll buy some just because he want to

had a bad day? flowers.

had a great day? flowers.

lastly, kane would support you in everything you do

it's a friday and it's 6:56pm? he will give you flowers

like this man love giving you flowers or like giving you things that'll make you think of him

he doesn't care if it's like 7:23am or 21:04pm

he'll still go buy you some just because he loves it

he'll support you in your projects, your experiences, your life.. literally everything he can support, he'll be here for you

he's already doing that with the boys so it wouldn't be a surprise for me if he did that to you <3

our sweet caring boy :(

DARREN

darren would give you snacks or make you drink if your hands are occupied

he'll also buy your skincare products if you're running out of them

working on a essay and you're hungry? this man will feed you

you're cooking and want to drink something but can't because of the dough? he'll make you drink water with a straw (or smth like that)

he's such a good boyfie :/

this man think about everything

he love doing skincare with you

anyways-

darren takes a lot of care of his body, his face, his skin.. he know which products are good or nah

and it also involves foods!

he'll buy you the stuff, even if it's not skincare!

like if you're running out of mascara, he'll buy you some

running out of your favorite food? he'll buy you some more just because he know you like it

darren would cook to you

that's it, that's all

he doesn't even want you close to the kitchen 🙄😭

he LOVES cooking and he loves it even more when it's for you <3

he would cook for you on special occasion

but also on not special occasion

he love seeing you eat what he made for you

his cooking skills >>

he would also kiss you in the rain

idk why but he gives me this vibe?

imagine: he put his arms around your waist and kiss you slowly while the rain is falling miserably on you two

lastly, darren would stand by you every single time

like omg it'll be so adorable

on a fight? this man's on your side

nah but for real

he doesn't really know what's going on, but..

he's on your side

let's be honest

he really cares about you

even if he doesn't show it a lot like some others members do, he would stay by you during the good and bad times

always here for you :(

REGIE

this man would tell you how much he loves you in public

he doesn't really say it often

he's more like a "secretive person" when it comes to the confession if i can say it like that

he wouldn't mind saying the l-world in public, but he usually prefer when it's only between you two

also, talking about public..

but he wouldn't mind saying it if it would make you happy!

and plus..

he kinda love saying it 😭 mostly when there's a lot of people in th same place

he'll say "baby!! check these out!" a little bit more louder just so people can know you two are together

he love showing you off, what can i say?

he wouldn't refuse to do pda in public

sure, he would rather keep these things like the ily's and all the pda between you two

but as again, he's happy to do that

he'll treat you like he's a gentleman

he want to show you off

idk why i said "like" bc regie IS a gentleman 😭

regie would also put his hand around your waist and talk to you in your ear

he would open the door, be super respectful.. takes care of his responsabilities.. everything that a gentleman do lol

idk if this one is princess treatment, but..

he'll do that

he'll speak in your ear so you can only hear him

if you're feeling anxious, stressed, overwhelmed.. he'll do that

finally, he would buy what you need when you're on your period

at least, hear him better than the others sounds around you

most of the time, it'll be random stuff lol

like sometimes he could say "come here.." or "i love you..!"

but otherwise, it'll be stuff like:

"this guy was so weird, wtf!"

or like "dang, you have a nice a$$"

he don't really mind if he have to do four shops to find what you need

periods, for him, are normal

it's like.. only blood?

so like, he would buy you whatever you need

everybody have blood

he wouldn't be anxious or stressed

just like okay, but where do i find these???

the only time where he'll be a bit anxious would be when he have to choose between ultra soft or super comfortable and he doesn't know which one are the best for you since not everyone have the same preferences when it comes to period's supplies!

taglist (open! send an ask if you want to be in it): @nsb-rkive @kentisbaby @firebenderwolf @hyuneee0

hope you guys liked it!!

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