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slyandthefamilybook · 29 days

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okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse

What was the Key Bridge?

The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.

Was it structurally sound?

The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.

What was the ship?

The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).

Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.

The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.

What happened?

The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.

At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.

What was the damage?

The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.

The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied

Who was hurt?

The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:

Miguel Luna from El Salvador

Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras

Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.

Rescue Efforts

The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.

No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.

Aftermath

At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."

At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."

At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.

More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.

Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.

Was it intentional?

According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".

Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".

At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.

Sources

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

#atlas entry #this is still a developing story but all the information herein is accurate and current at time of publishing #baltimore #baltimore bridge collapse #francis scott key bridge #key bridge #I spent an hour collating all this info please give it a reblog

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gayvampyr · 6 months

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CNN:

Hundreds of families gathered in the West Darfur capital of El Geneina on June 15, plotting their escape from what had become a hellscape of blown-out buildings scrawled with racist graffiti and streets strewn with corpses. The state governor had just been executed and mutilated by Arab militia groups, leaving civilians with no choice but to flee.

What followed was a gruesome massacre, eyewitnesses said, believed to be one of the most violent incidents in the genocide-scarred Sudanese region’s history. The powerful paramilitary Rapid Support Forces and its allied militias hunted down non-Arab people in various parts of the city and surrounding desert region, leaving hundreds dead as they ran for their lives…

…residents set off en masse from southern El Geneina, many trying to reach the nearby Sudanese military headquarters where they thought they might find safety. But they said they were quickly thwarted by RSF attacks. Some were summarily executed in the streets, survivors said. Others died in a mass drowning incident, shot at as they attempted to cross a river. Many of those who managed to make it out were ambushed near the border with Chad, forced to sit in the sand before being told to run to safety as they were sprayed with bullets.

“More than 1,000 people were killed on June 15. I was collecting bodies on that day. I collected a huge number,” one local humanitarian worker, who asked not to be named for security reasons, told CNN. He said the dead were buried in five different mass graves in and around the city.

Conflict erupted between the RSF and the Sudanese army in April. Since then, more than one million people have fled to neighboring countries, according to estimates from the International Organization for Migration.

Now, a telecommunications blackout and the flight of international aid groups have all but cut off Darfur from the outside world. But news of the June 15 massacre began trickling out of the region from refugees who escaped to Chad. The evidence uncovered by CNN suggests that, behind a curtain of secrecy, the RSF and its allies are waging an indiscriminate campaign of widespread killings and sexual violence unlike anything the region has seen in decades.

The RSF’s official spokesperson told CNN that it “categorically” denied the allegations.

“To say you were Masalit was a death sentence,” said Jamal Khamiss, a human rights lawyer, referring to his non-Arab tribe, one of the biggest in Darfur. Khamiss was among those who said that they fled from El Geneina to Chad, surviving a series of RSF and allied militia positions by concealing his ethnicity.

The United Nations raised the alarm in June over ethnic targeting and killing of people from the Masalit community in El Geneina, after reports of summary executions and “persistent hate speech,” including calls to kill or expel them.

The vast majority of those who managed to make it out of El Geneina alive sought refuge in the Chadian border town of Adre, about 22 miles (35 kilometers) away from the city.

On June 15, the town received the highest number of migrants in a single day, along with the highest number of casualties — 261 — since the Sudan conflict broke out, according to Doctors Without Borders, widely known by its French name, Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF), which runs the only hospital in Adre. The number of wounded people that arrived at the hospital was even higher the next day: 387.

“The last time we recorded the death toll in Geneina it was 884,” one local humanitarian worker from El Geneina, who works for a Western non-profit organization, told CNN. “That was June 9. After June 9, it was a different story. The dead became uncountable.”

Action Against Hunger is accepting donations to provide health, sanitation and nutrition services to Sudanese refugees in Chad.

#genocide #sudan #sa tw #violence #racism #imperialism

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total-dxmure · 2 months

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ೃ࿔ CHERRY FLAVORED →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairing: mega fan!ellie williams x rock star!reader

summary: your guitarist was carted off to rehab after just one month into your recent tour. fuck. there’s only one thing you can do, and that’s hire a replacement. your band thinks it’s going to be nearly impossible to find someone that is on the same level of talent as your “beloved” guitarist. you don’t have high hopes that anyone can nail the songs quite like he did either, if you’re being brutally honest. enter ellie- she’s a mega fan. the girl knows every lyric and note like the back of her hand. . . and everything about you, which isn’t creepy at all. her apparent obsession with you is something that you and your tour manager can overlook if it means carrying on with the rest of the tour. forced proximity with a stalker-level fan . . . what’s the worst thing that could happen?

warnings: smut in next chapter, talk of substance abuse, the reader is a tease and a bit of a bitch but it’s hot i promise, ellie is obsessed with reader to an unhealthy degree.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

It was the kind of love that tortured poets mused over. Ribs straining against a heavy heart.

Ellie had deluded herself, as any love drunk person does, that she wouldn’t dissolve into a puddle on the floor if she were to meet you. She could keep her cool- downplay the crushing significance you held in her life. Your voice was constantly ringing in her ears. She could see your face in perfect clarity any time she closed her eyes. Pictures like snapshots played out behind her eyelids, and yet you always felt a million miles away for her. You were a perfect performer, situated on your sky-high pedestal, always out of her puny reach.

Because Ellie, as much as she despised this fact and dreamed of greatness, was a nobody. She grew up in a tiny town of no noteworthiness, her adolescent years spent dreaming about the planets and playing guitar with Joel. By all accounts Ellie was normal, while you were certainly not. Still, she liked to tell herself that she’d somehow manage to make herself worthy of your affections if she were ever to be blessed with them.

Finding herself in a situation like this seemed like an impossibility. She was partially convinced that she was daydreaming, having concocted some elaborate fantasy just to feed the insatiable ache. She was starved for you with no way to feed herself.

All it had taken was a single audition tape. One. Single. Tape. Ellie was staring, wide eyed, at Gene fuckin’ Murray.

The blood rushed from her head, hands breaking out instantaneously into a clammy sweat. She couldn’t think, couldn’t function at the realization that she was staring at one of the people that she had worshiped for years. Gene’s talent had been praised by the likes of Lars Ulrich and Danny Carey. He wasn’t popular just for his looks but for his undeniable talent.

And he was staring straight at Ellie, arms crossed over his toned chest as he waited expectantly. She felt like an idiot. Should she be playing? If so, what did they want her to play? Surely one of their songs. She’d glossed past the fact that she was a megafan, instead making it sound like she was just looking for a successful band to join. She was talented. No, Ellie was really talented.

She wasn’t just a technical player, but excelled at making her own rules. She enjoyed the creative freedom that playing the guitar granted, and felt as though the world needed more Jimi’s and Van Halen’s. Ellie excelled at thinking outside of the box.

She wasn’t very successful when it came to women, but had no problem making her guitar scream and cry for her.

So she took a deep breath and tried to steady her heart, once again stepping up to the mic. If there was one thing that all of your bandmates had in common, it was the attitude. She’d watched hundreds of interviews, had studied all of their movements and mannerisms. . .she understood you down to a science.

“So do you want me to play or what?” Ellie spoke into the mic, gripping the neck of the guitar in the hopes that it might act as an anchor. She was scared that she might float away.

The manager’s eyebrows twitched at her sudden change in attitude but he didn’t say anything, merely turned to look at Gene. For a second everyone just stared at her, like a bug under a microscope. After what felt like five minutes but was really just five seconds, Gene broke out into a grin, motioning to her with a flick of his wrist. He wasn’t confident in her, Ellie could tell.

She had a sweet face, she knew that. Big green eyes and freckles- she was unsuspecting. People were usually shocked to find out that she had wrestled competitively in high school and had no problem putting a man three times her size on his ass. People expected very little from her, and perhaps that was part of Ellie’s real charm.

“What song?” She was staring at Gene now, gripping her guitar pick between two sweat-slick fingers.

“What ‘bout ‘Sometime Soon’? Know that one?” His tone was teasing. Condescending.

The song was fast paced. It was supposed to be played loud and hard- one of your angrier songs. Ellie knew that you had been the one to write this one, meaning it was one of her favorites. The notes weren’t beginner friendly, but it wasn’t exactly hard for her.

It was more style, less technical ability- which meant that Ellie would have no problem making this song her bitch.

It was obvious that Gene was the one meant to judge her. The manager was just that- a manager. They needed an actual musician to listen in. So she took a deep breath and readied herself. . .

and then the sound of your singing voice blasted into the booth. Drums, bass- she was meant to play with you.

She almost missed her que, eyes widening in nervousness. She thought that she’d be playing all by her lonesome. She thought wrong it would seem. They’d started her off right in the middle of the song. Probably to throw her off. She jumped in, fingers sliding along the frets to shape out the correct notes. She tucked her guitar pick against the palm of her hand with her thumb, using the pads of her fingers to tap the strings. Faster. Faster. Faster. She didn’t look up from her guitar to look at the men’s reactions to her playing. Instead she just pretended she was standing in the living room of her apartment, hellbent on getting another noise complaint from the bitchy nextdoor neighbor.

Her calloused fingers pinched the strings, satisfied with the way the guitar whined over the speakers. The guitar solo in this song was meant to be impressive- and it was, she had to give it to Leon. A lot of it was just bullshitting though. He’d admitted that he came up with the solo in the actual sound booth off of the top of his head while they were recording the song.

The man was a god. He deserved “guitarist of the year” two years in a row. Ellie had the Los Angeles native beat though. Where he had grown up in the constant presence of “the greats”, Ellie had grown up in a constant state of boredom. She’d been playing the guitar since she was fourteen. Every day she’d sit down for hours and practice until her fingers bled. . . literally. She had thousands of hours on Leon, and she knew that with certainty.

Ellie moved the guitar up and down gently with her fret hand, prolonging the last note so that it cried the way she wanted it to. The muscles in her arms were sore from how hard she had been tensing during the song. She’d been a lot more mechanical about it than she was used to, but she had something to prove.

After a second she looked up from her guitar to gauge everyone’s reactions. The manager had dropped his cold and indifferent demeanor, instead flashing her a small smile. It bolstered her, gave her the strength to turn and look at Gene.

He still had his arms crossed over his chest, and for a second Ellie was sure that he would tell her that she sucked. She widened her stance, shuffling her feet so that she was in a more defensive position. His heated gaze made her feel as though she needed to protect herself from whatever mental anguish he was about to put her through.

“I thought she was kick ass,” Gene finally spoke up, giving Ellie a small thumbs up. Her face lit up into a wide smile before she could school her reaction into one of indifference. “What do you think? You’re the one that calls all the shots.” He spoke behind him, looking down at someone that had been hidden on the couch all along.

Ellie squinted her eyes, taking a step closer to the glass to see if there was another businessman she’d somehow overlooked.

She saw your hair before she saw anything else. It was freshly dyed, different than the last she’d seen you in all of the recent tabloid photos. You were clad in leather- pants so tight that they looked like a second skin. Your top was just as restrictive, breasts spilling out from the top, midriff revealed to show off the small silver piercing you had decorating your belly button.

You were Hecate in the flesh- dark, sinister, mysterious and capable of anything. Ellie didn’t think that it would be possible, but you were even prettier in person. The sight of you sent a shock through her system, and for a second she felt her knees quiver, as if she could no longer hold up the weight of her own body. Her insides turned to mush; white, hot mush.

The Stendhal syndrome: Ellie had been brought to the very precipice of existence by sight alone. She was so overcome by your mere existence that she felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. Body trembling, eyes locked on to your face and nothing else- it felt like she might faint. She remembered reading about the syndrome once before in an art history class she took in college.

“Absorbed in the contemplation of sublime beauty. . . I reached the point where one encounters celestial sensations.”

The urge to flee was just as great as the urge to get her hands on you was. She was thankful for the wide stance she was currently in, because if her legs had been any closer together then she was positive she would have lost her balance and fallen over.

You were right there in front of her. You’d been right in front of her the entire time, she’d just been so focused on Gene that she hadn’t even seen you in her panic. She stumbled forward, her sneakered foot catching the jack for the amp. She slapped her hands over her ears as a blood curdling screech began blaring over the speakers.

Ellie could have died. In fact. . . she just might. She dropped her guitar roughly on the ground as she raced over towards the amp, fingers shaking as she turned the knob to the volume.

The booth, once again, was silent. Silent enough to hear a pin drop. Slowly she turned, grimacing when she noticed the looks on everyone’s faces. She’d embarrassed herself and ruined her chance. Even worse was the fact that she’d humiliated herself in front of you.

She had somehow deluded herself into believing that the two of you were soulmates over the years. She’d compared your birth charts, life numbers- had taken multiple celebrity compatibility tests. All signs pointed to a resounding yes. The two of you were star crossed lovers, cursed to never know one another. She had told herself that if she were ever to bump into you in person that she’d be able to keep her cool. Ellie was certain that she could pretend that she didn’t know who you are- could downplay the significance that you held

Her ignorance was laughable. She’d been so overcome by your mere presence that she’d stumbled on air while standing completely still. You were standing up straight now, and even from her spot behind the thick glass she could tell how much taller you were than her. You had to be wearing heels or platforms, because according to Google you were-

“You know how many auditions we’ve listened to today?” You had grappled the mic from the tech and were now hunched over his soundboard, the lights from all of the buttons and knobs casting strange, beautiful shadows over your face. Your eyeliner was dark and smoked out around your eyes, and in that moment Ellie wondered if you were an angel or a demon. “Twelve. Twelve fuckin’ people have walked into that booth today. Every single one of them has been absolute shit. So bad, in fact, that I’ve wanted to blow my fuckin’ brains out in this buildings tiny, piss-stained bathroom.”

Ellie blanched, lips losing their pink color as the blood drained from her face. She was about to pass out. Her vision was already starting to tunnel. She grabbed onto one of the microphone stands to hold herself up, trying to keep her expression hard and unreadable. People often told her that she had “dead eyes”, and she could only pray that her face wasn’t giving her crushing grief away. It felt like someone had just died; like she had just died. Actually, she would have rather you just go ahead and stab her then tell her she sucked. You were her idol, her dream girl, her everything.

And you were telling her that you’d rather blow your fucking brains out then listen to her play. How was she supposed to recover from this? She’d heard the saying “don’t meet your heroes” a thousand times, but this? She’d rather you just be a bitch to her. Actually, Ellie would probably like that. This was the worst thing she could have ever heard. Her nose twitched as tears began pooling in her eyes. She blinked a few times, praying that you couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch black room you were standing in.

“But this?” You turned towards your manager and pointed passionately at Ellie. “This is music.”

Breath left her lungs in a loud, audible whooshing sound, like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed, the hand that was white knuckling the mic stand falling limp at her side. No, you didn’t hate her. You liked her.

You liked her.

Everyone had their vices. Leon’s had, apparently, been copious amounts of prescription drugs- often consumed simultaneously. You were used to getting what you wanted. You drank whenever you wanted to, fucked just about anyone that peaked your interest and got away with your usual rotten antics and bitchy behavior. You lived the lifestyle that you’d always dreamt of, even when you were a little kid.

You enjoyed putting on shows. You were flamboyant, loud, and weren’t afraid of expressing yourself. Teachers often described you as a “free thinker” back in your elementary school days. You dressed yourself for school each morning, each outfit louder and more daring than the next. You were an artist, and like most artists you had some inner demons that you fought against. You still fought tooth and nail, even to this day.

Finally though, after what felt like a thousand years of waiting and biding your time, you had the life you had always yearned for.

You sold out arenas, appeared on the front page of just about every magazine imaginable, and had celebrities clamoring over themselves to be your “best friend” of the week. Things were good.

But also a bit empty.

The friends that you’d made in your youth only used your name for bragging rights. Your parents had stopped showing up to concerts years ago, instead choosing to listen about your successes through their shitty television shows. Life felt a bit hollow.

Exciting. . . just different than you had always been used to.

“Come play with us.” One of the women whined from her spot on your plush hotel mattress. The bombshell blonde was already stripped down to her underwear, her eyes glazed over from whatever overpriced alcohol she’d already taken from the suite's bar, at your expense no doubt.

Your manager was used to the up-charges on the company card. He would probably be relieved in the morning when he found out that you didn’t break anything. There was still time for that, of course. It was only one in the morning, which meant you had nine more hours to get fucked up and wreck the cushy room.

“I’m not feeling up to it right now.” You said simply, already disinterested in the two women you had invited to bed with you tonight. You were holding a beer bottle loosely between two of your fingers, swishing the remainder of the room temperature alcohol absentmindedly.

You weren’t much of an “observer” when it came to sex, more of a very active participant. Still, all you could do was sit back in one of the comfortable lounge chairs, muscles tense after a long show. You weren’t exactly sure why you’d invited the women back to the hotel. They were both attractive and had come onto you at the same time. It was obvious what they had been insinuating, and who were you to deny two beautiful women? The first thing that had popped into your head being “a threesome might make me happy”.

Except now you were bored out of your skull and would much rather be sleeping right now than watch two ditzy girls clumsily fondle each other’s fake breasts.

“Please? I want you to fuck me so bad-” There was a knock at the door, causing both girls to go silent for a second.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaustion threatening to swallow you up whole. If it was your manager here to yell at you for “accidentally” breaking an amp at tonight's show you were going to scream. It was too late for that bullshit. Still, you saw this excuse as a blessing.

“Hear that, ladies? Looks like we’ve gotta pack it up. Thanks for showing me a good time.” You stood up from the seat with a small groan, placing your beer bottle onto the counter clumsily. The glass clattered, almost spilling all over the shag carpet.

The two girls groaned, obviously frustrated that they hadn’t successfully gotten you into bed with them. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you lately. If this had happened a few months ago then. . . well, you would have fucked them- no questions asked. Were you maturing out of your “wild and crazy” phase? No, you didn’t think so.

You bent down, scooping up a discarded bra so that you could toss it onto the bed. Fabric rustled behind you as they began to quickly sort themselves out, hoping to beat you to the door.

“Who is it?” You called out in a sing-song voice, deciding that if your manager was already angry enough to show up in front of your door at one in the morning then you might as well have a little fun with it.

There was no reply on the other side of the door, causing you to scoff. He was giving you the silent treatment. You reached out for the door handle, only to have your shirt yanked on by one of the women. You could hear the seams ripping against the weight of her, her eyes wide with desperation.

“Please let me show you a good time. I promise I’m good- I swear.” There was a fear of rejection there, you could tell.

You felt a bit guilty and were quick to lean in to press a kiss on her cheek. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. I’m sure you would have been wonderful- but I’m tired. That’s all, okay? It’s nothing personal.”

And with that you opened the door. The air from the hallway was brisk, causing goosebumps to instantly break out on your bare arms and legs. You were expecting the balding, bespectacled Barry to be standing on the other side of the door, all in a huff about “expenses” and “damages to the venue”. Blah, blah, blah.

Instead it was Ellie. A very broken looking Ellie.

The girls were quick to straighten out their outfits, their attention now turned towards the guitarist. Groupies like this didn’t care who they slept with, just so long as they were getting it in with someone that was in the band.

“You’re Emma. . . right? The new guitarist? You were so great tonight. I mean- Leon was always a bit of a poser anyway. You’re killing it.” One of the girls started, moving to stand next to you in the doorway.

You weren’t sure why, but you felt angry. Genuinely angry. Were you jealous of Ellie? No, because you were sure they would still rather fuck you than her. You’d been their first choice, afterall. Maybe you felt the need to shelter Ellie a bit? Yeah, that had to be it. She was still learning the ropes, and the last thing she needed was to be sexually harassed in a hotel hallway.

“. . . -lie” She was mumbling under her breath, eyes locked on the expensive carpet beneath her ratty old sneakers.

She had changed out of her stage clothes and put on jeans and a t-shirt. Her hair looked wet too, meaning she’d already taken a shower. She smelled earthy- Alpine, even.

You leaned against the frame, slamming your hand against the doorway to box the two women in, hoping to keep them away from the newbie. They flinched but both seemingly weren’t off put in their newfound pursuit.

“You’re the most talented guitarist I’ve ever seen live. I mean. . . your solos were incredible.” You hadn’t managed to successfully remember the girl’s names. Just that they were friends with two guys that had worked security for the venue tonight. People often took advantage of connections like that in order to get close to you and your bandmates. It usually worked too. Tonight was different though. Tonight you had a real stick up your ass.

Ashley? Amber? Sophie? God, you were bad with names.

“. . . -is Ellie.” Your guitarist mumbled again, slowly moving back down the hall in the direction of her suite.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion over her attitude, and you were quick to stumble out of your room and down the hall after her.

“Wait! Emma, can we get an autograph!” One of the half naked girls called after the two of you, trying desperately to shrug on her shirt to follow after.

Ellie turned then, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. You’d. . . You’d never seen her like that before.

“My name is fucking Ellie! Who is Emma? Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” She dug her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, trying desperately to find her keycard.

The girls gasped at her outburst, jostled by the look of pure evil on her face. Even you were taken aback, not used to this kind of attitude from her. Still, you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t know why she was acting like this.

Ellie was what some would call a “mega fan”, though that would be putting it lightly. The word “stalker” would be more appropriate. Your manager knew that before he even messaged her for an audition. He’d checked all of her social media sites and scrubbed the internet for anything he could find on her. One thing was made very clear:

Ellie was obsessed with you.

For whatever reason she seemed to be keeping it a secret from Gene and Chris. All she fessed up to them was that she enjoyed your music, which was why she’d auditioned in the first place. She’d conveniently left out the dedicated fan blogs and the status of her cult-like following.

You didn’t mind it. Sure, it was a bit creepy. . . but she was talented and you liked her. She could hold her own against Gene and Chris’ constant asshole behavior, and had been receptive to Barry trying to teach her the ropes of the business. It was obvious that she wanted this, even if her motives weren’t exactly purely for the music. You’d let her be as close to you as she wanted if it meant that she’d continue playing the way that she does. The crowd had loved her, and it was only her second show with the band.

She was a bit shy, but that would pass eventually. You remember your early debut days vividly. You’d been just like her, maybe even a little worse.

“Hey, stop for a second.” You reached out to grab her wrist, stopping her from fleeing after her outburst. She turned to glare at you, but her eyes softened as she took in your features.

You could feel her arm trembling in your grasp, so you gently let go. No matter how many times you touched her or spent time with her, she still seemed to get overly nervous in your presence. It was endearing.

“Aren’t you a bit busy? Don’t let me ruin your fun-” She was being sarcastic.

“I was done with them by the time you knocked on the door. They aren’t exactly my type. I’m not sure why I even invited them back in the first place.” If you had to guess, you’d probably done it out of habit. You were used to inviting people back to your room or tour bus.

Ellie didn’t seem pleased by your answer. If anything it seemed to upset her even more. She bristled, reaching back into her pocket for her keycard. What did she want to hear? That you hadn’t touched them? You groaned, wiping an exhausted hand down your face.

The elevator dinged behind you, meaning the girls had finally taken the hint and were leaving with their tails tucked between their legs.

“Are you jealous or something?” You asked once the elevator doors were closed. The last thing you needed were the girls trying to sell information to some shitty gossip magazine.

She froze, eyes going wide and lips going pale. It was almost like she didn’t think that you knew all about her dirty little secret. A part of you wanted to tease her. Really make her squirm.

“Why would I be jealous? Those girls weren’t exactly my type either.” She was good at playing things off. Ellie was a good liar.

But you were good at sniffing out the bullshit. It was one of your many talents.

“Not of me,” You leaned against the wall next to her door, watching with curious eyes as she began fumbling in her pockets for her key. “Of them. Do you wish I had taken you back to my room or something?” You cooed flirtatiously, flashing her one of your most sinister smiles.

She coughed, turning around so that she could hide her face from you. This nearly had you groaning out loud in disappointment. Was she blushing? Do her freckles look even brighter when her skin gets all pink and hot?

Nah, it was dangerous to think like this. Band members were always off limits. It was a recipe for disaster. The last thing you needed was another Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham situation on your hands. Your PR team wouldn’t be able to recover. They’d just barely gotten over the “Leon” incident by the skin of their teeth.

Your old band member having to be tackled by three cops in a hotel lobby was horrible. It made you look sloppy. And sleeping with the brand new edition to the band was definitely sloppy.

“You’re acting crazy.” Ellie told you, shoving the keycard into the lock so that she could clammer into her room.

Pushing the boundaries was sort of your thing. You enjoyed being bad, fuck the consequences. Right about now you wanted to kiss Ellie. What would her reaction be? Was she a good kisser? You wanted to know. No- you needed to know.

“You’re right. I’m talking nonsense, don’t listen to me,” You called after her into the room. “Sweet dreams.”

And with that you sauntered back to your own room, practically purring in delight over the fact that it had been that easy to get to Ellie like that. You loved pushing the boundaries. . . and now you had a new toy to play with.

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prettybabybaby · 1 year

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¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !

content: stepcest (use of "brother" and "sister"), stepbrother!regulus, stepbrother!sirius, fem!reader, unprotected sex, breeding

a/n: found this in my drafts.... dk why i didn't post it

¡ marauders masterlist !

Regulus persists, rutting into you with desperation, cock starved of attention and stimulation. He has an iron grip on your hips, holding you in place when you try to thrash out of his grip at the sight of Sirius. His eyes are almost blank, darkened with lust, pupils blown almost comically as he chases his high, using your body to do so.

Sirius stares on, breathing in the scent of sex that fills your frilly bedroom. He crosses his arms, watching Regulus with an amused smirk. His eyes fall on you covering your face with embarrassment but your pathetic squeaks and moans continue, shamelessly loud and almost pornographic. Your cheeks burn red like Regulus’, blush high and painting the canvases of your pretty faces.

Your parents hadn’t been out of the house in far too long. Regulus had begun to lose patience, but he had to hold off on playing with his sweet sister to avoid suspicion of his sinful urges he couldn’t help but act upon. And you let him so easily. Despite your protests and weak fighting, you melted into him, obeying his every command to spread your legs wide or open your mouth, flip onto your back, and prep your little holes for his cock to nestle itself into, abusing you until he was satisfied – or you were interrupted.

This time, though, there was no stopping his eager humping into your fluttering pussy. Not even the presence of your brother standing by the door, entering with confident steps. He swung the door closed behind him as he approached the creaking bed, eyes raking your sweating bodies. Regulus adjusted his hold, pinning you to the bed even more painfully. You whined, trying to cover your body from the preying gazes of your brothers.

“Couldn’t resist, Reggie?” Sirius spoke. “Y’playing with our sweet sister all alone?” Sirius’ ringed fingers danced across your exposed chest, meanly twisting a nipple before he pried your hands from your face. “Don’t play shy, slut. You’re letting your brother fuck you silly and you think you can be shy?” he tsks.

Regulus grunts as the dams of your eyes break, sending a river of tears down your rouge cheeks. He tries to thrust even harder, push himself even deeper into you, moving your hips up and down to meet his stuttering hips in his attempt to do so. You slide up and down the pillow where your head rests, hair tangling and back sliding against the soft bed sheets.

Sirius’ fingers glide downwards, gathering a pinch of regulus’ curly pubic hair and pulling meanly. Regulus makes a sound at the pleasurable pain, digging his nails onto your hips before pinning you down, slamming into you, almost like he was trying to mold you and the soaked sheets into one.

“Move,” Sirius says, “I wanna play, too.”

Regulus slows but doesn’t pull out, giving his brother a displeased look. Sirius looks back, raising a perfectly shaped brow as he touches up Regulus’ sweaty chest, circling his hardened pink nipples. Regulus’ hips stutter but he pulls out, mourning your warmth instantly. His cock is fully erect, angry, and red, wet with slick and come. He moves aside, grazing your wet thighs as he parts.

Sirius takes his place, laughing meanly as he gathers the juices on his fingers. Your pussy’s throbbing, clit engorged and jumping in excitement. Pearly spunk drips in thick beads and you crave to push it back in, push your brother deep into your womb. “Look at you two,” Sirius laughs. “Fucking each other like virgins. Desperate dogs.” You and Regulus burn brighter in humiliation, a bubblegum pink covering every inch of skin on your face.

You can see the slight grinding of Regulus’ hips against the blankets holding up his cock. You almost whine in jealousy of the inanimate object. Your attention was brought back to Sirius when he slipped a come-coated finger into your sensitive little hole, swirling and curling it as he spoke.

“You really let him come inside you?” Sirius chided, “that’s filthy. Are the poor puppies so desperate they fuck their own siblings?”

You sob and Regulus begins to thrust into the blanket. You reach for him, shaking your head pathetically, begging him not fuck anything but you.

“You want his disgusting cum so badly?” Sirius laughs again, “you want him to fill you with his babies, huh?”

You close your eyes as you nod, “please, please.” you feel so empty, cold from the lack of your brother's hard ruts and warm spent painting your insides.

“You’ve had enough of Reggie, don’t you think?” Sirius begins to pull down the waistband of his pajamas, letting his own aching prick spring free. You stare at it, looking from the leaking head of Sirius’ cock to Regulus’. “Do you want my babies, too?”

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satorusdiary · 1 year

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You being Eren’s fav girl

-Plug!Eren x reader

Warnings: Fluff, f!reader, Cursing, making out, Eren being lovey dovey, flirting

Summary: In which Eren pulls you away from your friend group, finds a empty area, and makes out with you on a bench at night during a carnival event just to be alone with you.

A/N: you and Eren aren’t dating, but you sure are his favorite girl compared to everyone else

"Eren, What's wrong?" You questioned and got closer to him. Your friends, who were behind you both began walking away, not noticing that you and Eren weren’t following along.

He shook his head and began walking in a different direction from the group, making you follow him confused.

"Nothing, just wanna go somewhere else." He mumbled loud enough for you to hear.

After many minutes of walking, pushing past big groups of people in crowded areas you find yourself in a secluded area that has a few benches, and a water fountain. Not as much people were in sight, the people that were there were busy looking at the lightened up river near by.

"Eren if you wanted to get alone with me, you could've just said that." You chuckled and turned around to check the scenery. Eren rolled his eyes and put his phone back into his pocket, sitting down on the bench behind you.

"Nah, i just wanted to get away from them." He uttered, looking at you.

"And get alone with me?"

Eren shrugged his shoulders. "maybe."

You turned around and smirked, having your arms crossed. The look on your face convinced him to not act stupid.

"Why you standing? Come here." He pulled your arm making you land on his lap. Your hand was on his chest stopping you from crashing your head against his chest.

Your cheeks began heating up, despite the cold weather the only heat that appeared on your body was on your face.

"Yeah, thanks for that. I was getting cold." You said sarcastically. Eren looked down at you with his eyebrows rose up, low eyes looking down at your slightly shivering body.

The movement he was making made you back away, you noticed he was taking off his jacket. Then he wrapped it over you once it was fully off, leaving him in his white tee-shirt.

"No-No! I was joking, keep it on your gonna freeze!" You pleaded and unwrapped the puffer around your body, handing back to him. Only for Eren to shake his head, and wrap the jacket around you again.

"I won't get cold with you on my lap. Wear it, don't argue with me ma." He replies. You sigh in defeat, putting your arms through the holes in the jacket, fully putting it on you.

You thanked him and cupped his cheek with one hand, caressing it when you notice it was getting colder.

"you my favorite person right now, you know that?" Eren questions, his lips getting closer to yours. You raise your eyebrows and grin.

"How about your mom?"

"I like you both equally." He repeated, making you laugh and fall in deeper into his embrace, since his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Thank you, baby.” You thanked Eren.

His fingers were propped under your chin, forcing you look up at his low, slightly red eyes. He pulled you into a kiss, both of your lips moving into sync.

He had wet, velvety lips. Your eyelids jerk back wide as his tongue even makes an appearance. His hand descends from your waist to your ass, where he grabs a handful and tightly squeezes it. A small moan escapes your mouth, you feel a smirk form on Erens lips.

When Eren opens his eyes, there's a familiar person strolling around the area dumbfoundingly.

Linah, Erens ex girlfriend.

"What a fucking stalker" is what Eren thought into his head. He purposely kicked a pebble over to where she was standing, just so she could watch him makeout with his new girl. Give her all the love and affection.

Linah had a hurt expression written all over her face, lips were slightly agaped open as she didn't know what to say or expect.

A burning passion of jealous runs through her chest, and her breathing gets heavier when she makes eye contact with Eren.

Even if it was dark outside, she was able to see the small smirk that formed on his lips as he touched you lovingly, something she wished to have right now.

Eren pulls away from you, a string of saliva being pulled away in between you both.

"You done stalking, Linah?!" Eren yells out, startling you as you turned around to see a girl watching you both. A feeling of embarrassment flows inside your body as you try getting off of Erens lap, but his arm makes you stay down.

Linah doesn't say anything in response, instead she shakes her head and ignores the incoming headache and the feeling of throwing up that overcomes her system. She runs away from you both right after, feeling extra embarrassed after getting called out by him.

"Fucking weirdo." Eren mumbles making you look at him with wide eyes.

"E-Eren, who was that?" Your eyebrows knitted together as you pressed your lips together. Eren shakes his head and cups your jaw with his hand, rubbing your cheek affectionately.

"Jus an annoying lil stalker. Don't mind her, babe." He responds, pressing his lips against yours once again before you could even respond back. His hands squeeze your hips from under the jacket he gave you, giving reassuring touches.

He pulls away and moves down to your neck, pressing light kisses, and lightly sucking on the softness of your skin which turns into a light purple.

"mmm, my' favorite girl." He praises against your skin, kissing your jaw. Your hands get lost in his hair, lightly tugging from the satisfaction your receiving.

His words left butterflies in your stomach, the affection even if you guys were not labeled as anything. It made you feel special. Eren knew, even if you weren’t dating. You’d always be his favorite girl.

"You think we should get back to the others?" You question when you notice Erens phone buzzing multiple times, messages from all of your friends asking where the two of you were.

He shook his head, kissing your collar bone.

"Nah, they'll find us. Let's 'jus enjoy this moment. hm?" You nodded after he spoke, messing around with the chains that were around his neck.

“mhmm” You mumbled, looking up at him.

#eren x reader #eren fluff #eren jaeger fluff #plug!eren #making out #shingeki no kyojin #eren aot #eren headcanons #eren x you #eren jaeger x y/n #attack on titan #eren imagines #eren smut #eren yeager #snk eren #eren jeagar

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ks-dreams-fantasies · 7 months

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TEACH ME | TRAVIS KELCE

a/n: I've had an idea for a mini serie, so you'll most definetly be seeing multiple parts to this story. I love the relationship and the love between Baby Wy and Uncle Travy 🥹 Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Warnings: Nothing really, this one is kind of a slow burn with a first encounter.

Words: 1.247 (Not proofread)

Pairing: Travis Kelce x Reader

TEACH ME | TRAVIS KELCE

Early in the morning, as the sun began to paint the sky in soft pastels, you stood at the threshold of your preschool classroom. You unlocked the door and stepped into your vibrant kingdom of colors and toys. The walls were adorned with the artwork of your little kids. Bright finger paintings and carefully crafted collages that told stories only a child imagination could conceive.

As the children began to trickle in, their faces lit up with excitement at the sight of you. Each one received a warm hug and a cheerful greeting, setting the tone for a day filled with love and learning.

‘’Guess what, Miss Y/N!’’ little Wyatt exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder. ‘’It’s my birthday this weekend.’’

Your eyes sparkled with delight. ‘’Already? Soon enough you’ll be older than me.’’ You said as she laughed loudly before running up to play with her friends.

The classroom buzzed with activity as children explored different stations. Your colleague and best friend Camille joined you with a warm smile. ‘’Good morning, girl! Are we still on for tonight?’’

‘’Of course, I’ll make a reservation at that little Italian place we both love.’’ You smiled. ‘’Good idea, I’ll see you later.’’

Later, during circle time, you read a story about a brave little turtle. The children sat in rapt attention, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"Who can tell me what the turtle did to be so brave?" you asked, your eyes scanning the eager faces.

Lily's hand shot up, her eyes shining. "He helped his friends cross the river!"

"That's right, Lily! Helping friends is an act of bravery," you affirmed, your heart swelling with pride.

As the day drew to a close, parents arrived one by one to collect their sleepy but contented little ones. You greeted each family with a warm smile, sharing stories of the day's adventures and highlighting each child's achievements.

‘’Uncle Travy!’’ Wyatt exclaimed as she ran into the arms of a tall and muscular man. Standing at an impressive 6 feet 5 inches, his frame radiated an aura of power and confidence. His piercing eyes sparkled, and he smiled widely at his niece as he picked her up.

‘’Hi baby girl! Did you have a nice day?’’

‘’It was the best. We painted rainbow unicorns, and we had a dance party with Miss Y/N, it was so fun.’’ She smiled up at her uncle as he stroked her back gently.

‘’How come I wasn’t invited?’’ he replied, pouting as he faked being hurt. The little girl laughed loudly ‘’You’re too old to be in my class Uncle Travy.’’ His eyes finally landed on you, greeting you nicely before putting Wyatt down.

‘’Sounds like Wyatt’s found her happy place here.’’ He said, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed. ‘’I’m Travis by the way’’ he said extending his hand for you to shake.

As you guys chatted, you couldn't help but notice the friendly banter and easy rapport you shared with him. He exuded a warmth that put you at ease, and his genuine interest in Wyatt’s day was evident.

As you stood by Wyatt’s cubby, preparing her belongings, Travis’s conversation took a subtly flirtatious turn. "You know, Miss Y/N, I've heard that being a preschool teacher takes a special kind of person. Someone patient, kind, and full of love."

You felt a gentle blush rise to your cheeks, flattered by his words. "Well, it's definitely a labor of love. The children bring so much joy into my life."

His gaze held yours, his eyes sincere. "It's clear how much you care about them. Wyatt adores you. "

Before you could respond, she ran up to her uncle, her face beaming with excitement. "Uncle Travy, can Miss Y/N come to my birthday party this weekend?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. ‘’Of course, baby girl, that is, only if Miss Y/N wants to and is available.’’ He said, looking at you with his piercing stare. You turned to Travis, your heart full. "I'd be honored." You chuckled lightly at the little girl’s reaction.

You got interrupted by the light sound of heels clicking on the floor, Camille heading your way.

‘’Hey, you’re ready to go?’’ she asked you before acknowledging Travis, giving him a smile and a nod which he returned before staring back at you.

‘’Well, we’ll leave you to it, we have plan on our own don’t we baby Wy?’’ he said stroking his niece’s hair as she nodded excitedly. ‘’I guess I’ll see you this weekend then.’’ The smile on both your faces were genuine. He thanked you before walking away hand in hand with his niece. You couldn't deny the flutter of attraction you felt, but you also knew the importance of professionalism.

Camille cleared her throat, nudging you with her elbow as she smirked at you. ‘’What was that about?’’ you blushed at her question before walking away from her laughing.

In a cozy corner of the Italian restaurant, you both sat huddled together, your face animated with excitement. Camille leaned in, her warm brown eyes filled with curiosity. ‘’Tell me everything, Y/N. What’s he like?’’

Your eyes danced with a mixture of adoration and wonder. ‘’Well you saw him, he’s tall, like really tall, and he’s funny, we joked around a little bit and he made me laugh. And he’s got these beautiful piercing eyes that I swear, they were seeing right through me.’’

Camille leaned back, a thoughtful expression on her face. ‘’Sounds like he’s got you smitten, you sound like me.’’ You laughed, she was right. You were pretty lowkey about personal relationships and you never were one to imagine scenarios so early on.

After your breakup with Christopher, your ex-fiancé, you kept a lot to yourself. You had made the decision to call off the wedding as well as the relationship when you found out that he had cheated on you with one of his colleagues at a work party. He had tried to work things out, begging you to stay and telling you how sorry he was, that it was a drunken mistake, but being you, you couldn’t walk past it. Camille welcomed you for a few weeks before you found your own place. You hadn’t dated anyone ever since, giving the excuse that you didn’t have time with your work, but deep down you just knew you were scared of getting hurt again.

‘’I don’t know, he was just different. The love he has for Wyatt made me melt, and he was so nice and respectful. They invited me to her birthday party this weekend’’ You shrugged your shoulder, blushing lightly as Camille reached out and gently squeezed your hand. ‘’You better go, girl. Don’t let an opportunity of getting to know the guy slip away.’’

‘’I don’t know, maybe he was just being polite by inviting me.’’ You said as you sipped on your glass of wine. ‘’Come on Y/N.’’ your friend exclaimed. ‘’Did you see the way he was looking at you, his eyes were glued to you. You’re going to go to that party and you’re going to have fun. Just be yourself and if it clicks it clicks.’’

You looked into Camille’s eyes, your heart filled with gratitude. ‘’Thank you, Camille. I don’t know what I’d do without you.’’

You continued to talk and laugh as you felt a newfound sense of confidence and excitement about Travis and seeing him at Wyatt’s birthday party.

To Be Continued

Part 2

#travis kelce #travis kelce nfl #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce fic #nfl fic #nfl imagine #kelce x reader

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sillylotrpolls · 6 months

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(Notes below poll.)

There is shockingly little information on the Enchanted Stream, which Thorin's company crosses in Mirkwood before being set upon by spiders. We know that it "flowed fast and strong but not very wide right across the way, and it was black, or looked it in the gloom," and that it causes Bombur to sleep for six days, dreaming "beautiful dreams," and that when he wakes up he has temporary amnesia that causes him to forget the last three months (approximately). It originates in the Mountains of Mirkwood and joins up with the Forest River. And... that's it.

I've gotten used to every random bit of geography having a complete backstory with at least one tragedy in it, but no; the Enchanted Stream exists solely in Chapter 8 of The Hobbit. No references in the Silmarillion, nothing in Tolkien's extensive correspondence; heck, it's only in the extended edition of the second Jackson Hobbit movie! The one and only place that seems to care about it whatsoever is Ao3, where plot-convenient amnesia can be a lot of fun for fanfic writers.

#lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #poll #polls

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darlingofvalyria · 8 months

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❝I am not a Valyrian Sex God.❞

part 03 | pucker up, buttercup

chapter summary:

[ The line of friendship dances in uncertain waters when you and Aemond play the fake dating game a little too well. Helaena reveals much more than meets the eye to Aegon, and vice versa. Oh, and Alys. Hi Alys! ]

[ 5,399 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— mostly fluff, a wee bit angsty, a little smutty - profanity, i swear a lot sorry too shhshs - no use of y/n - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— thank you so much for the love this little fic is getting so far!! it truly warms my heart that you people enjoy my twisty, crackpot humour and my version of a modern au for these characters!! as much as i am grateful for george for making these characters and these stories, i have to say what propelled me to write is the beautiful community i found. truly, from the bottom of my heart. ❥ fandom is built on community. i would not have had the courage to start writing fanfiction again if not for ya'll. so thank you so much. for the consumers and the creators. you, us, are the beating heart of fandom. please take care of each other. + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

"Please tell me I haven't inhaled so much drugs in my system that I am hallucinating our— and I say this with a lot love, okay you know what? No. Our Nasty Little Bitch of A Grudge Holder we call, lovingly, a brother, is not dating the hottest friend you have? Hel? The hottest friend you told me if I ever came anywhere near, you'd rip me a new asshole? How is Aemond's asshole still intact?? Or does our brother just have a gaping fun-house slide down there? Hello? Hellooo, pay attention to meee. This is so rude, why didn't I call Daeron?"

"Because Daeron knows nothing and I know everything?" Hel snorts, finishing up re-naming Aemond's contact from CURRENT DUMB BRO to NASTY LITTLE BITCH OF A GRUDGE HOLDER, before turning to Aegon on her laptop.

Like she predicted, Aegon is already pouting, leaning back on what Helaena remembers is their grandfather's rum-coloured leather office chair. In his office. In Oldtown.

After a quick stint in Ibiza, it seems Helaena's brother had found himself back in the country, and worse— back in their grandfather's office. Without him in it.

"Grandpa's going to kill you." Helaena snorts. "How'd you even get inside his house?"

"This is not the first time I have been faced with a locked door, baby sister."

"You broke a window didn't you?"

"I really, really had to piss."

She rolls her eyes. Hard. "You are a boy. You can literally just pee anywhere."

Aegon flutters a gasp and a hand over his chest. "Excuse me? I may have a penis, but that does not mean I have to be uncouth. For shame, Helaena. Also disgusting. But that's not why I called." He steeples his fingers as he leans forward, pressing his elbows against the nice mahogany desk. "What the fuck is happening over there? I'll be there by tomorrow and I'd like to know what the fuck is happening before I start—" he wiggles his eyebrows salaciously, " — shaking things up."

A dark look crosses Helaena's usually amiable pretty face that has Aegon leaning back. "If you do anything— and I mean anything — to ruin what I have going on, Mother may help you for I certainly won't. The Stranger will look like an old friend, Egg, don't you fucking dare."

"What the fuck," Aegon exhales, wide-eyed and horrified. "Have you been watching M. Night Shyamalan movies again?"

"No," she lies. "I'm doing this for my OTP."

"Oh my god, you're the one who roped them together?" Aegon strangles a sigh. "Lae-lae, we've talked about this. No matter how much you think they're cute, Aemond—"

"— Aemond and Alys broke up."

"Then they'll be together again before the weekend's out." Aegon rolls his eyes. "It's Aemond."

"Not like this." Hel shakes her head. "I got her to agree, Egg. And they're like... Gods, the pictures don't do them justice. They're magnetic. They make plans at the apartment, Aemond is there all the time— my OTP is happening."

"You are playing god between two people you care about."

"What else am I supposed to do?! They're obviously so hot for each other, and now that Alys is out of the picture, and she's there, right in front of him, Egg, you should see how it is between them. The energy. It's crackling. They have inside jokes, they're so comfortable with each other, and I will have the most beautiful nephew and niece—"

"—Helaena Targaryen," Aegon admonishes with finality. Hel quiets. Often times, the siblings forget Aegon is quintessentially the oldest sibling. They had never been close to their father's actual firstborn— the age gap is wide and there's just... too much complicated family fissures in between that it feels awkward, even when they're relationship is okay, to interact or consider Rhaenyra anything past a cousin you see every other holiday because you have to, much less now that their father's dead — so Aegon is their big brother.

And though they see it in bits, in flung comet pieces that you see preciously once every few hundred years— the vibe of big brother grasps the edges and reminds the younger siblings.

Sure, he's a dick. Sure, he's a whore. Sure, he's their mother's least and most favourite headache— but Aegon is their big brother.

"You cannot play puppeteer like this. This can blow up in their faces. And they care for each other. Their friends. If this blows up in their faces, it is going to hurt."

"I know that," Helaena says quietly, pout pinched but face mostly cleared. "You don't think I don't know?"

"I think you've already outweighed your chances and your choosing a possibility."

Helaena looks truly scolded at that point, and it juts a guilt down Aegon's stomach. But Aegon likes you. Maybe not like in the way that his brother likes you— in that intense, possessive way he gets with people and things he care about because there are so few of them — but he likes you. And he loves Aemond on a bad day, and likes him on a good one.

And Aegon knows, as a superior power about crashing and burning, that this is going to hurt both of you in ways that he truly doesn't think Helaena understands.

Because he isn't blind (as his brother) (bad joke?) (probably) to what he sees in Aemond's gaze when it looks at you. Sure it's possessive, sure it's the same way he looks at most people he keeps close to his heart.

But he was the one who saw how Aemond looked at you before Alys came into the picture. Before it morphed into nothing but platonic; morphed close to how he looks at Helaena. In that soft, I'm So Glad This Person Exists I Would Kill Literally Everyone For Them.

Aegon always thought he looked at you like he wanted to devour you. Etch you into his skin until your shape is in red marks across white plane. He looked at you like I Would Kill Myself If You Asked.

It was the possibility of devotion dipped in insanity. Aemond had so few things, much less people, who so vocally, physically, and emotionally cared for him without addendums.

The only real reason he never did anything before was because you were Helaena's best friend. Helaena loved you. And he couldn't destroy that alongside the fact that you might leave his side.

And then Alys happened and that focal point moved.

Aegon knew his brother. Not as intensely, and maybe that's the reason he could see it. To see clearly past the intensity and recognise its edges. Aegon knew his brother in his marrow.

"When this crashes and burns—"

"If!" Helaena quips stubbornly. "If it crashes and burns. Come home. You'll see, Egg. Aemond just needs to see."

"And what if she doesn't reciprocate, Lae-lae? She's not hard to love, and this is Aemond." Even Helaena knows his feelings, once taken root in whatever form, can blossom.

Helaena smiles softly. "Come home. You'll see. I can see it. I've seen it. The possibility of them, and it's so pretty, Egg."

It's really not all that pretty, fake dating.

Maybe it could be, but Aemond Targaryen is such an ass.

"This is not like The Devil Wears Prada fashion montage," you grumble, pinching off the big, 60s, yellow sunglasses off your nose to glare pointedly at the man sat on lounge chair. "All the zippers and tugging— this is not as pretty! And I look ridiculous! I don't wear dresses like these, Aemy!"

"You don't look ridiculous, you look like my girlfriend." He makes his emphasis with an inch raised eyebrow and pouty lips twitching not to laugh. "That's the point, is it not?"

You make a drawl huff. It's not just that his words were right— that's what the past hour has been, roaming around all these big named fashion brands where the staff just knows Aemond Targaryen, if not just by him sauntering in with all the swagger of an asshole you'd walk the other side of the street to ignore, then by the flash of his black card (or three, 'cause what the fuck is money to Targaryens holy shit) — but the way he's sitting as he appraises every look he's chosen for you.

He's lax, as could be in his usually perfect posture, with his hips in the middle, and one leg braced down whilst the other is raised to his other thigh. A confident man's sitting position, with an arm over the length of the sofa, balancing a champagne a trying-to-suppress-her-giddiness staff gave him.

At your disapproved glare— down on your nose at him because you're standing over him, lording over him, as he's sitting down — and he's smirking up at you. As if the power dynamics don't shift by whoever is looming over the other.

Aemond doesn't need to stand to make you feel all fluttery with a smirk and a strong gaze against your body. His eyes gaze from the bottom of your heeled toes, slow, slow, slow, until it reached the top of your head.

Surely you've only imagined his gaze lingering on certain parts of you that now felt hot and tingly.

Surely.

"Plus," he continues with a hum. A sip of champagne. "Isn't this your idea?"

"Yes, but—"

"Didn't you tell me that I should prepare the kind of outfits that Aemond Targaryen's girlfriend would wear—"

"Yes, but I—"

He leans forward, taking pleasure in arguing with you, as he settles his elbows on his knees, pressing both of his feet flat on the tile. He's looking up, still, but his eyes are intense and the corner of his mouth is twitching from a grin he's trying to fight.

"And even when I told you that didn't matter, that whatever you wore would be fine, you insisted?"

"Because I thought it'd be fun!" you growl and he falls in faint, amused laughter. His eye is sparkling and there's a joy to him that makes you giddy. You truly have missed Aemond as you know him. "Because I wanted a fun dress-up montage, but nothing about this is fun! Why are you choosing so many goddamned zippers, and they're all so fucking tight?"

You plop beside him, stealing his champagne. Staff look away, trying not to ogle too much between you two. As you take sips of his drink, his hand, still over the sofa's arm, begin drawing idle circles on your exposed shoulders. It warms you and calms you down, melting further in the seat beside him.

"I liked the dresses," he finally murmurs. "The ones before this. The flowy fabric ones."

"Those are summer dresses," you say though don't know why.

"Hm," he hums. "You look pretty in them."

You look up at him and he's looking at you, a small smile on his face. The proximity is too near to be proper but not near enough if you're fake dating. You study his silver lashes and the scarred flesh.

"Thanks."

"We'll get them. Is that alright with you?"

You snort softly. "You're paying, Aemy. You can do whatever you want. Can't believe this is how your dates with Alys usually went."

Hatching plans meant unloading information about his former relationship with her. Going through their relationship so you could understand it better, better proportioned the good and the bad, and secretly, make him see the red flags that should jump out in clear, plastic red.

"Not at first." He's looking away now, but his finger is still drawing circles. There's a wistful tone to his voice, like seeing through a dream and a memory. "But when it got... bad, it seemed like the only time we weren't fighting was when we were in public. Almost subconsciously, whenever things got tensed, I'd offer to take us out. Do anything outside of our bubble. Money isn't an issue, and before Alys said she felt like a... cheap whore than a girlfriend, buying things for her, spending time looking through things to wear, to match almost, was safe."

"Gift Giving," you mutter with a nod. He turns.

"What was that?"

"A love language." He cocks his head. You sigh. "I mean it's stupid and not really theoretically accurate, but for fun, there's five types of love languages. People do this test thing and sort of box up the kind of love language you want to receive and what you give— but truly, in my opinion, a true kind of love demands all five for it to work."

He hums, intrigued. "And what are the five?"

"Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Physical Touch, Acts of Service, Gift Giving. But, you know, all of those should be given by a partner, in increments they can do for you. There shouldn't be a boxed fixture of what your relationship could be."

You shrug, standing up and stretching. You don't see him looking at you in the way that he has been for the past few days, and he doesn't know the tingles and feelings you keep between a smile and a sigh.

"Love looks different for everyone but it should have the same concept."

"And what concept is that?"

You turn to him, smiling. "That if you truly love someone, you can try anything. Love doesn't demand things that you do for the simple reason that you love the person enough."

"Love can be complicated," he says, and he's not arguing, not really. He isn't begging for you to understand. He is simply saying.

"Love can," you agree. "As most things are complicated. But it doesn't have to hurt."

It's a boundary line, the way he blinks, remembering why you're here together, why he gets to touch you in intimate ways, why he gets to pay for clothes, why you spend this time with him. A jolt. A shock.

You don't press and he doesn't retreat. The line exists not just to remind, but to stabilise any projections. Any dangerous tones.

You simply smile, nodding at the time. "Dinner date, babycakes. We can't be late for reservations."

"We can be late for a few minutes," he says, remembering echoes of how Alys sometimes got late. It isn't really her fault; there are days when she's too busy at the law firm, too busy with a meeting or two, or still finishing up her makeup because she doesn't like going to dinner in her work clothes.

"Sure, but we're here together and I know how much you hate being late." You snort.

"I don't hate it."

"Sure, but you got that eye twitch you do when you're annoyed," you tease, tapping your own eye before you wink at him and skip away.

For the past few days since the bar incident, by your suggestion, you and Aemond had pour out the intricacies of how Aemond and Alys' relationship worked whilst hiding your true intention of making him see its faults and corners, and at the same time, continue on with the charade of dating him.

It's been a packed week or so, going to your shifts at the bar, meeting with Cregan once and a while (boy had been busy, and he found the entire thing with Aemond incredibly hilarious).

You answered no question mark in regards on who the hand was, only sent a winky face or a kiss blowing emoji. You continue to post minute representations of your no-longer-single status in brief intervals, making sure that you never name him. You never publicly give him a recognisable body.

But for those that knew, knew.

It really wasn't that hard. There were only so much pale, toned hands, so much body builds you can hide with your hand covering his general face that you can hide without people making smart guesses. There wasn't a lot of pale, toned people around you after all.

But in your refusal to name him, the question continues, and so does Alys silent observation of every post. The only story she had liked had been the very first one.

You often wonder what she thinks, before your mind is devoured once again with everything else.

To be fair, as often as you had both been seeing each other lately— and it has been the most often you have been seeing of him — there were still things outside of Aemond and Helaena plans. And Aemond still had UNI to focus on.

"You know, I often forget you're still in university," you say now, comfortably warm in Aemond's car. All fresh leather seat and crisp new car smell despite knowing that Aemond's had this unit now for at least a year. He maybe rich, but he knew what he liked and took care of them.

He shoots you a quizzical look before looking back at the road. The city is bathed in a gorgeous stream of oranges and pinks, tie-dying glass buildings and bustle of city roads. When you look at him, you smile softly at how pretty the light hits him.

"Why is that? Do I look that young?"

"Your vibe is so old man on a nine to three, cigar breaks by four, and whiskey sours by seven pm."

He makes a disgruntled sound at the back of his throat. You laugh. "I would like to think it's my altruistic classicism. A timeless endeavour."

"Sure, old man," you tease then sigh. "Reality is, I'm so much older than you. I'm hanging out with a child. On my free day. Is this what it means to reach low status?"

"I am not a child." His reply is sharp, cutting, almost offended.

"You're in college."

"And of legal age? You're only four years older."

"Oh, right."

"What?"

You smirk at his dark look. "You like 'em way older."

His face, much like his gaze, heats up. You're imaging it when the ride turns red, the car slows to a stop, and he is looking at your lips. Surely it was, because you got transfixed with the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. A slow, tantalising movement.

It feels like an eternity stretched within three seconds. The light turns green and both of you turn away.

Well, there's been that. A few times. But it doesn't mean anything. Aemond is in that transition of trying to rid himself of bad habits, of being freshly single once again, and you know he and Alys get in on frequently. This had been a conversation a few days back, on a couch, smell of grease and pizza around the room while Murder She Wrote played in the background.

"Wait, wait, wait." You sat up, folding your legs underneath your butt, and giving Aemond your full attention with a little 'o' in your mouth.

"Wait!" Helaena calls playfully from her sway to the bathroom. "Imma pee!"

"Take care, my beloved!" you call back, before turning to Aemond with a big, Cheshire grin.

"Can we not dwell on it?" He's flustered but is trying not to show it, looking back to the TV as if he understood why there's a body on the plane.

But wine has been had, spilled and shared, and it's enough for you to grab that fluster and the topic, and smirked.

"No, no, we will talk about it. We shall! We must! Do you mean to tell me that by the end of it, most of the time, you two were just boning? Is Aemy, one of my favourite people in the world, a Valyrian Sex God?? Oh my god??"

"I am not a Valyrian Sex God."

"Okay, girly pop, please." You raised a hand in a 'talk to the hand' motion and he was smiling at you, entranced and frustrated. "Women talk, Aemy!"

There was a flush and Helaena came back. Wine did things to Helaena, and she was stumbling and giggling as she flopped behind you, turning around and encasing you in a koala hug.

"Women talk, baby bro." Helaena nodded sagely. "Even I try not to listen, they talk, alas."

"And Alys has said those hips—" You pointed a j'accuse finger at his hips, then his mouth. "—and that tongue has done things that can make the Maiden blush."

Helaena groaned behind you're back, a slew of 'ew's escaping her mouth. And you were still being playful, teasing, but Aemond was looking at you, though scarlet, with a deepened expression.

And at that moment, both of you were thinking the same thing.

His chin brushing your thighs, your sighs like music to his ears, and his tongue making you scream.

Warmth pooled, twin expressions share a gaze. Hunger, desire, shame.

The connection was destroyed when Helaena abruptly jolted and fell down the carpet. Because she was holding onto you, you got pulled with her.

"Are you okay??" Aemond asked.

Hel gasped. "I thought I saw Bobby. I think I squished Bobby."

You shook your head. "You didn't. Bobby is spry. Bobby knows to move away."

Aemond's confused face peered down at both of you. "Who's Bobby?"

"The local spider that lives here."

"Of course." And he smiled.

You smiled back.

Helaena giggled beside you but when you ask her, she only shook her head.

And the silence that lulls in the car is like both of you reaching the very same memory and having to sit through the stifle of that drunken interaction about his sex life. He coughs, you let out a breathy giggle.

"I should admit something," he says, parking the car in front of the restaurant. Dusk is settling, sunset in bright red and orange turning to a cool blue and pretty lavender— and when you turn to him after getting out of the car, coddling your jacket close to your body, he looks nervy. Apologetic, almost.

"What? What'd you do?"

He bites his bottom lip. "I know something about this restaurant."

"I would assume. You chose it." Your eyes narrow, giving the black-out floor to ceiling windows a look. The Painted Table is lit up in a scrawled font on top of it.

You step inside, not bothering to turn to his call of your name, and is submerged by the restaurant's vibe. It's a darkened place with meaningful lighting but a casual air, a bar on the side, and an upbeat jazzy music dancing in the air — it looks good. The place smelled delicious.

Nothing about it sparked familiarity to you, but the anticipation from that look of guilt on his face brought you to a high-strung, so when he calls your name again, just behind you, you turn.

"Is this where you had your first date with Alys?"

He shakes his head. "No. No, but—"

"Aemond?"

The voice is familiar, and you don't stop enough to think before you're turning to the low, clear voice that's just a hint of husky, and Alys' green eyes go wide at your appearance.

She's dressed nice, dressed to go out in a black dress dipping low and fabric tangled around her body to show off her curves. Her inky hair was swept to one side and her mouth was bloodred.

Alys Rivers, owner of Aemond's firsts. The woman he seemingly can't let go off.

You smile. It feels fake. "Oh. Hi Alys."

Her shock staves off into a genuine smile that makes you guilty. "Hi, my love. I see you two are together. Always attached at the hip. Dinner?"

Before you nod— or maybe strangle Aemond — he comes forward, taking your hand in the process and lacing it. He's looking at her as if he's setting a challenge when Alys' eyes fall on your intertwined hands.

"Yes," he says. "We are."

"Well... that's good. This place is great. I—" Someone calls her name, she turns back. You shoot Aemond a withering glare you hope conveys how much you're going to beat his ass after this. She turns back, smiling still. There's a pinch between her eyes but it's gone by the third blink. "Well, I have to go. I'll see you both soon, okay?" She turns to you, stepping forward, not minding the Targaryen beside you. "Especially you. We haven't hung out in a while."

"That's true, I've missed you, you crazy witch." And she laughs and you smile, because you genuinely consider Alys to be one of your friends. Not maybe as deeply as Helaena's, or as close, but Alys was an amazing person and you enjoy her company.

Plus, right now the one you're angry about it solely the man holding your hand.

Alys turns to Aemond, and he stiffens. Between them is a complicated look. So many things unsaid, before her smirk softens. "It's nice to see you too, Aemond."

And she turns away, walking back to her table, to her date, when you tug him with you to the bar. As you order a dry martini, he speaks. Calm and soft.

"You're mad at me."

"You knew she was going to be here." You turn to him, arching an eyebrow, hating the way your chest pangs. "You stalked her and brought us here because you wanted to use me."

He shifts, face crumples at the word 'use' and calls your name in a plead. "It's not like that."

You snort, taking a sip of your drink when it arrives. "Don't lie."

"Okay. Yes, I did. I... I made an impulsive decision because I wanted to see how she could go on a date as if we were nothing." Bitterness cripples his words, the smirk on his lips is ironic and darkened in hurt. Your heart hurts for him, but you can't give him a pass just like that. He hurt you too.

"You could've told me."

He raises an eyebrow. "You would be okay with this?"

Your own smile is ironic and darkened by hurt. "You're already using me, Aemy. That was the deal I agreed, for Hel. It would at least lick the wound to have been in the know, and not, you know, got shot in the face with it."

At the first part of your tirade, he looked like he wanted to argue with the using part, but the realisation weighs him because it is true. To him, he is using you. And it's a cheap shot on your part because you were also doing this for him, out of your own free will.

You sigh when he turns away, guilt dipping low.

"You're such a dumbass."

He hums in agreement.

You're aware of a gaze from the tables, somewhere in the ocean of jazz music and chatter, Alys is looking, and you kinda wanna make this good for him. You were already here after all.

Your hand reaches his jaw, sliding across his neck until you reach his nape and fingers tangle with the baby hairs there. His hair had been wrapped into a bun. Sleek and fluffy.

He turns to you, to your touch, in shock. "What are you—"

"Try not to look so surprised," you whisper, stepping close to him until your noses are bumping. "We're supposed to be dating."

And then you slant your mouth against his.

TAGGED: @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x reader #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fluff #elle writes !! ꒱ ↷˗ˏˋ🍒#hotd fanfic #aemond one eye #tshbft ༊*·˚ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ

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fairyhaos · 8 months

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[16:33 PM] — woozi .

454 words, idol setting, est. rs, woozi appreciation™

It's a quiet day.

With nothing better to do, you're lying on the couch in your boyfriend's studio, head on the armrest, watching him upside down as he hums and works on his latest composition.

Jihoon's face is illuminated by the light of the screen, flashes of colours making his cheeks and eyes glow pink or blue or red depending on the things he clicks. You're not really sure how it works. Jihoon, and his ability to compose, basically makes him a god in your eyes.

From your position on the couch, you can't really see him that well, but whenever he makes small noises of contentment you feel your own lips tug upwards, face warming.

"Jihoon?"

"Hm?"

"You're so pretty," you say, averting your eyes away from him, shy, even though he can't see you. "Like, really pretty."

Jihoon chuckles. "Thank you."

"You're the prettiest person in the world," you carry on, insistent on getting Jihoon to realise how beautiful he is. "Your smile is pretty. Your eyes are pretty. When you do that thing where you laugh really hard and your mouth goes wide and your eyebrows go up and your eyes scrunch up, it's so pretty. You're pretty all over, you know?"

Jihoon doesn't say anything, but you're barrelling on anyways, hands gesturing as you ramble.

"And your voice is simply the prettiest," you say dazedly, smiling. "When you're speaking, when you're singing, whenever. It's just… your voice is like a pink river, gurgling and bubbling and sparkling with life and magic. It's so beautiful."

You sigh, clasping your hands together, crossing your ankles over the other armrest of the couch, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "You're pretty everywhere, Jihoon, and sometimes I don't think you realise it. But you are, and I love you so much, for everything you do and all that you are."

Silence rings through the studio. There's no more clacking of keyboards. Jihoon doesn't even seem to breathe.

"Jihoon?" You look up, but the angle is still awkward and you still can't see him properly. "Jagiya? Wait, are you crying?" You sit up properly, and Jihoon has his face buried into his arm over his keyboard.

"God, Y/N," he sighs, sounding exasperated, but when he looks up at you, his eyes are bright. Even in the weird lighting of the studio, you can tell his ears are red.

"What? What did I do?"

Jihoon stands up, walking over to the couch, and he leans over you, cradling your face in his hands. He's smiling, that slight smile that makes him look so, so beautiful. "Love me too goddamn much, that's what."

And then he leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms

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ziorite · 2 months

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crying laughing (mostly just crying) over the long goodbye job rn because what the fuck guys. what the FUCK.

(spoilers for the last episode of leverage season 5)

i still had so much hope for them even after hardison fell and parker got shot. i was crossing my fingers because eliot will be there and they’ll get away because they always get away ?? right ?? but then they make it the van and eliot gets shot. right in the fucking chest.

THE VAN SCENE. I WAS DISTRAUGHT. DISTRAUGHT Y’ALL. AND THEN HARDISON’S LAST WORDS ARE TO WONDER IF ELIOT IS OKAY ??? “HERE I AM”??? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. AND THE THREE OF THEM FUCKING DIE HOLDING EACH OTHER’S HANDS WHAT DID THEY DO THAT TO US FOR. (something something parker dying alone when she’s finally learned what it means to have a family something something eliot dies first because to watch the people he’s dedicated his life to protecting die in front of him is to die a second and third time something something)

and then the cherry on top when nate and sophie look back and the three of them are dead and bleeding out and clutching on to each other in death what do they do ??? they don’t even consider giving themselves up they drive that van up the bridge and into the damn river.

nate’s enraged yelling at the agent had me wide eyed with my hand over my mouth. fucking STUNNED yall. nate is really no one’s favorite but my god the fucking pain in his voice. 10/10. BUT THEN of course that’s not all there is to it. the switch from grieving fury to composed nonchalance was both peak comedy and absolute whiplash.

AND HERE’S STERLING !! everyone’s favorite slime ball <3 and ho ho ? he’s mad at nate for killing the rest of the team ?? they grew on him didn’t they— like clumps of adorable mold that just keep coming back <3

and finally. the master plan is revealed. sterling did scare the living shit out of me shooting “hardison” like that but of course nate had a better plan than what they believed. crazy to think that the whole damn emotional rollercoaster was really just set up for the actual break in. (eliot’s exasperated eye roll and fall at nate’s “bang !” was everything.) starring sterling as the trojan horse! an amazing choice all around.

AND !! we have a proposal !! proposals plural actually because no way in fucking hell was that not a confession from eliot. that scene was the height of romance and i will be DAMNED if someone tries to tell me that was just normal best friend shit. OT3 IS REAL !!!

in conclusion: love leverage, they have the amazingest show to ever show and a finale better than any other out there. 200/10 would watch again and i am currently penning a love letter to john rogers and dean devlin.

#leverage #the long goodbye job #nate ford #nathan ford #sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #parker #parker leverage #alec hardison #leverage ot3 #thiefsome

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dailyadventureprompts · 3 months

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Encounter: The Bridgebuilder's Impasse

Frustrated with interruptions to the flow of commerce, a local caravan magnate has hired your party to slay the giant who's repeatedly destroyed the bridge spanning a turbulent river causing delays and costly detours across the realm. The one wrinkle to this otherwise straightforward mission is that the giant is the one who built the bridge in the first place, and rather than hunting a rampaging monster you and your companions have signed on to assassinate a beloved local artisan.

Whoever said “two heads are better than one” never met the giant Gilbult Gultib (or Gultib Gilbult, as he often insists) who far more embodies the adage “Every artist is their own worst critic”. Immensely talented in stonecutting and engineering, Gilbult (or Gultib depending on who you ask) has been building and rebuilding the same bridge for the better part of two centuries, sometimes letting it stand for a generation, sometimes scrapping it and starting over several times over the course of the same month.

With a perfectionist streak as wide as the river he's trying to cross, neither head can agree how, muchless when the bridge should be finished, agreeing only that what came before will be insufficient going forward and that they must return to the drafting board once again.

Adventure Hooks:

The locals are of divided opinion about Gultib Gilbult, most regard him as something of a curiosity, as much a fixture of the landscape as the river itself, while others see him as a gruff but otherwise pleasant neighbour or family friend. There's a very vocal minority that wish that he would get on with building the bridge, or else move and leave the maintenance to someone who won't tear it down on a whim, especially the merchants who end up paying an arm and a leg on unexpected barge fees. There's been an uptick in those actively calling for the giant to be driven off, all of which just so happen to be in the pay of the local quarry owner, who's in talks with the Caravan magnate about the construction of a tollbridge in the near future.

Having reached a new low of indecision, the giant has resulted to gambling with himself to decide the composition of this version of the bridge, anteing particular stones against himself in the hope that luck and strategy will let the superior side of his mind win out. This is just as much a stalemate as any other, but may present an opportunity for the party to resolve the situation without violence.

The tricky thing about accepting adventuring contracts from successful merchants is that they're VERY good at paperwork, and while this one did come with a sizeable advance, the fine print threatens numerous penalties (including debt and possible outlawing) if the party don't fulfill their end of the bargain and take out the giant in a timely manner.

Artist

#giant #random encounter road #random encounter #villain merchant

253 notes · View notes

lalacliffthorne · 9 months

Text

💜 starshine pt. IV 💜

Rhysand x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

summary: a promise is fulfilled.

notes: back to our regularly scheduled program of fluff deluxe - with maybe a teeny-tiny sprinkle of angst. come on, I can´t just make it that easy.

______________________________________________________________

Crossing the street, I pushed my bag higher up my shoulder, a cool but soft breeze brushing through my hair as I closed my eyes for a second. Something warm vibrated under my ribs, something that seemed to stem from the city itself I was wandering through, and when I opened my eyes again, my heart rose in a vibrant flutter when I caught a glimpse at the sun sinking towards the mountains, its warm golden light submerging the buildings and gardens into an otherworldly glow.

Velaris. The City of Starlight.

The Court of Dreams.

When Rhys had first told me about it, all those years ago, I had almost not believed him. It had sounded - far too good to be true. But now, as I made my way through the narrow streets, laughter and voices winding through the air from restaurants and bars, families passing me, I suddenly understood the light that appeared in his eyes whenever he talked about the city.

It was beautiful.

The buildings were big and winding, with towers and bay windows and balconies, the cobblestone streets between ranging from wide and leading to big square to narrow, connected alleys. There were wisterias winding around the houses, in full bloom just like the trees, their petals being sweeped through the air by the soft breeze, lacing the air with a sweet scent.

A few children were chasing a whirlwind of blossoms, giggling, and I could feel something in my chest swell. My eyes flared golden for a moment, and the petals rose in a rush, moving through the air like water flowing and sweeping around the children, their laughter growing as petals brushed over their cheeks like gentle tickles. I smiled brightly and exhaled a soft laugh before turning back ahead, my breath hitching as I slipped out of the street and found the river in front of me. Bridges with intricate carvings arched over the water that reflected the light of the first golden lanterns and the sky, a few stars already visible, twinkling in the pale blue that spanned all the way to the surrounding mountains.

It had taken me longer than expected to fulfill my promise. After taking care of those still Under the Mountain and the faeries there, I had brought those captured home. By then, many faeries had started leaving the places they´d sought shelter at. But the chaos that had become the courts had not spared their homes. Many of the wild woods, the meadows and riverlands had been destroyed or had withered without the fairie´s care.

And so I had spent almost two months making my way from Spring up all the way to the North, rebuilding the fairie´s homes a lot easier with the assistance of my magic. It had mended something in my chest, cracks that had formed there over the past fifty years, cracks caused by the harm that had been caused to those I felt I was made to protect. And not a day had gone by where I hadn´t felt the gentle rake of claws down the walls of my mind, like the male they belonged was trying to assure himself I was still there.

I knew Rhys was probably up to his ears in work, things that had piled up over the last fifty years; mending his own court back together. But still. I knew him. Knew how wonderfully, awfully self-sacrificing he was, and how he had the admirable and not at all healthy tendency to always put everyone else first.

The stubborn male hadn´t sought me out once. And it had made something rise and ache in my chest, more with every passing week, until over the last few, I had rushed, moved as quickly as possible, barely halting to accept the faerie´s titters of thanks.

It felt like something pulled me north, something that became stronger the closer I got.

☆

The sun was touching the snow-covered mountain peaks when I finally found the adress Rhys had left me. It was located at the end of a long street, a bit off the city center, sheltered by blooming trees and hedges, just like the other properties. Carefully opening the gate covered in sweet smelling vines, I felt my heart skip softly against my ribs.

Before me rose a big house made from sandstone, with huge windows, carved details and a domed roof, blossoming plants climbing the walls. There were bushes in bloom planted in front, and as I slowly made my way towards the steps at the side of the house, leading to big oak doors, I caught a glimpse at the garden beyond.

My breath hitched, and I slowed until I stood still.

Flowers bloomed, wild and free, and faeries whizzed through the high grass, giggling and chasing each other over a pond with floating lilies, reflecting the mountains lining the horizon and the sky above, beginning to turn pink.

Something rose in my chest, swelling and thrumming as a soft, slightly shaking laugh built in my throat, and I quickly wiped a hand over my nose. Staring at the garden for another second, my heart fluttering wildly against my ribs, I blinked before looking up the houses façade. Turning, I started to climb the steps to the door where I hesitated for a second before I raised my hand to knock gently.

After waiting for a minute and knocking again, I felt my brows furrow, and my heart skipped softly when Rhys´ voice echoed through my memories.

Don´t worry. The wards will let you in any time, day or night.

I could still hear the cheeky smile in his voice, and something rose in my chest.

Raising my hand again, I paused for a moment before carefully placing it onto the wood of the door.

My heart skipped when I felt a shift under my fingers, a soft breeze brushed through my hair and brought with it the small of chilled nights and wild flowers, and my lips rose into an incredulous smile when the door opened with a creak.

Carefully stepping over the threshold, I felt something begin to flutter gently against my ribs as I slowly made my way past the staircase leading up and felt my lips open softly.

My gaze flickered over the whole of downstairs, open and flooded by the golden light of the sinking sun coming from the big windows that opened like doors into the garden. There were shelves filled with books to the front, comfortable looking couches and soft carpets, and a big oak table over in the open kitchen with an array of chairs. The air smelled warm, of blooming flowers and a trace of Rhys that lingered, like he´d been here some time in the past few days.

Something rose in my chest, quick and fluttering wildly as I carefully let my fingers graze over the back of an armchair, breathing in the scent of the flowers on the dining table – and then the air shifted behind me, and I quickly looked over my shoulder, my heart rising in my chest and breath stilling.

Rhys had appeared next to the stairs, looking a little out of breath, his hair windswept like he had rushed as his wide eyes flickered up the stairs. My own gaze quickly darted over him, and something tightened harshly in my chest as I practically drank him in, because Gods, I had missed him, way more than I had realised, and seeing him again Under the Mountain had not changed that; in fact, it seemed to have made it worse, because as my gaze dragged over the familiar width of his shoulders, his inky black hair and that stupidly beautiful face, something in my chest began to ache.

Rhys´ eyes darted away from the stairs as he turned quickly, and then his body went completely still when his gaze found mine.

Something swelled under my ribs, rising as it pulsed warmth, and I swallowed and sent him a smile, soft and just a little cheeky. “Hello.”

Rhys stared at me like I had knocked one of the books from the shelves behind me over his head. His violet eyes were wide, his throat working as he swallowed lightly, and suddenly, the ache in my chest grew unbearable.

Dropping my bag, I darted towards him, and Rhys stepped forward, catching me as I crashed into him. His familiar scent washed over me like a tidal wave as his arms tightened around my waist, lifting me slightly until only my toes touched the floor as he pressed me into his chest, and I dug my fingers into the back of his shoulders, my arms wound tight around his neck as I buried my face in his shirt. His scent filled my nose, the warmth of his skin causing my own to heat, and something rose under my ribs, fluttering into my throat when I could feel the light shudder going through Rhys´ body. His arms tightened around me like I wasn´t already pulled flush into his body, then he dropped his head to bury his nose at my shoulder, a slightly shaking breath leaving him.

“You´re here,”, he mumbled, his deep voice hoarse, and I slid my arms down from his neck to wind them tightly around his middle, curling into his chest because it felt like the only way to still get closer.

“Promised, right?”, I mumbled into his shirt, my own voice sounding a bit weak, and Rhys slid his arms up from my waist to wrap them around my shoulders, dragging me further into his body as he dropped his nose into my hair.

My heart clenched when I felt a tightness form in my chest, one that wasn´t mine but belonged to the male in front of me, who felt tired, and worn, and a little heavy, but like him, and the feeling in my chest swelled.

Breathing out, I felt my shoulders sink. Winding my arms tighter around Rhys and nuzzling my face into his chest, I mumbled: “I hope not everyone can walk in here like that, because then we´d really have to talk about your security measures.”

Rhys huffed into my hair, his lips moving up against my forehead when he mumbled back: “What do you take me for, an idiot?”

I felt my own lips rise, and Rhys seemed to realise it too, because he added a grumbled: “You know what, don´t answer that.”

I smiled widely, and I could feel Rhys´ back muscles move under my hands, slowly relaxing as he wrapped me up tighter in his arms.

“You´re not an idiot,”, I mumbled softly, pressing my nose into his shirt, and my heart skipped when I could feel Rhys begin to smile brightly into my hair.

“I´ve been telling you that for more than a century, darling.”

His voice sent a soft tingle down my spine, low and rumbling warmly, and I grumbled: “I take it back.”

“Nuh-uh,”, Rhys murmured, and I could feel his smile widening.

Closing my eyes, I carefully sent a wave of warmth his way, to lessen a bit of that heaviness clinging to him, and Rhys´ grip shifted as his shoulders sagged.

We would have probably kept standing there for another while, because tiredness suddenly washed over me, the exhaustion of the past two months finally catching up with me, and Rhys didn´t seem like he was planning on letting go either, grip softening as he held me, body unwavering even when I slowly let my whole weight sink against him, burying deeper into his chest. But then something shifted at the back of my mind, soft and curious, and I hesitated before pulling back.

“Rhys?”

The male looked down at me, violet eyes tracking over my face, and I slowly slipped out of his grip a little, feeling my brows furrow gently as I stared up at him.

“Who´s house is this?”

Rhys´ hands on my hips flexed a little, almost like nerves as he slowly slid them off. Then he blinked and smiled, soft and lopsided and almost a little sheepish as he dipped his head to the side.

“Yours.”

I blinked. My arms slipped from his waist as I stared up at him, feeling my lips open, and suddenly, the ache in my chest was back, only it was different now, pressing onto my lungs and causing my breath to hitch.

“What?”

One corner of Rhys´ lips curved, his eyes moving over my face as he shrugged lightly. “I always hoped you´d come here one day. And I didn´t want you to feel like you´re just visiting.” He blinked, and it almost looked like he was hesitating for a second before he mumbled, voice a little hoarse: “I wanted you to have a home here.”

Staring up at him, I felt the ache rise. Looking over my shoulder, my eyes brushed over the beautiful living room, the garden visible through the big doors –

Something thrummed harshly against my ribs, and turning around, I sniffled and moved forward, slipping my arms around Rhys´ neck and hugging him so forcefully, he huffed a little in surprise.

“Thank you,”, I whispered, my heart rising as my bottom lip trembled a little and a tear ran over my cheek as I quickly squeezed my eyes shut.

Rhys breathed out and wrapped his arms around me, dropping his chin onto my shoulder, and his deep voice rumbled through my body when he mumbled back, sounding a little raspy: “Purely selfish reasons.”

Giggling softly, I pressed my nose against his shoulder, then I pulled back to stare up at him, breathing a soft snort.

"Only you casually buy someone a house."

Rhys grinned. "One of my many talents." Raising his hand, he gently brushed his thumb over my cheek, wiping away a tear as he stared at me, one corner of his lips curving. Then he blinked.

“Come on.” Leaning down, he picked up my bag before straightening and sending me a slow grin that caused his cheeks to crease and my heart to do a backflip. “You´re staying with me tonight.”

“And where would that be?” Feeling my lips curve, I turned around to follow Rhys towards the windows leading onto the terrace.

Rhys pushed open the doors, and something skipped lightly against my chest when he threw a look over his shoulder, his violet eyes twinkling lightly when he raised a brow. “The House of Wind.”

The soft air brushed over my skin when I stepped onto the terrace, breathing in the scent of blooming trees as I slowly took the two steps leading down onto the grass. Then Rhys turned around, and my breath hitched when the air behind him rippled, shimmering as his wings melted out of the darkness. I had seen them before, but they still made something tumble softly in my stomach, the way they opened in a stretch, flared wide for a moment before relaxing and folding lightly against his back. Then I blinked.

“Oh, hell no.”

“No other way.” Rhys shrugged, eyes twinkling.

“I am not flying with you.” I glared at him.

“Darling, the only way to the House of Wind is by air travel.” Rhys´ lips curved in amusement when he raised a brow. “Unless you´ve learned how to grow wings, you´ll have to fly with me.”

“No.” Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I shook my head. “Not happening.”

Rhys casually slipped his hands into his pockets, eyes bright when he tipped his head to the side.

“You know, that sounds a little like you don´t trust me –“

“That´s low.” I glowered at him, and he breathed a chuckle, something skipping against my ribs at the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned at me.

“Just telling you what it looks like, sweetheart.”

I grumbled.

The most annoying thing was – I did trust him. And he knew it. What he didn´t know was that I had trusted him for so long, and still, it scared me just how much.

Rhys seemed to see how he cut through my resistance, because he smiled, that godsdamned beautiful smile, and raised his brows.

Glowering at him for another second, I huffed. “Still don´t see why I can´t stay down here.”

Rhys chuckled and stepped towards me, carefully slipping my bag over my head and sending me a smile as he tightened the strap across my chest until it was sitting securely on my back, his eyes twinkling like the stars.

“Because I am far too selfish to let you stay anywhere I am not.”

Something got stuck in my throat as I looked up at him, and he sent me a wink that had me pull myself out of my stupor, deadpanning at him. Rhys laughed, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine, my body fighting to angle towards him.

“Alright, starshine.” He grinned down at me, eyes glittering with mischief. “Hop on.”

I snorted.

“Wha-“ Interrupting myself with a soft squeal, I held onto to Rhys when he picked me up. My legs locked around his waist like reflex, hands clinging to his shoulders, and my eyes widened a little.

“What are you –“

Rhys´ laugh made his chest vibrate, his arm under my thighs hoisting me up slightly to adjust his grip, and my heart skipped so high, I knew he´d caught it when he grinned at me. We were on eye level for once, noses almost brushing and his body impossibly close, and I had to keep myself from holding my breath.

“Really?” My voice was a little higher than usual, but huffy, and Rhys´ eyes twinkled.

“Hold tight.”

“You are enjoying this far too much.” I glowered at him, and Rhys´ lips curved upwards as his eyes dragged over my face.

“You have no idea.”

My breath hitched when I stared at him and the spark in his eyes.

My voice sounded a little shaky but moderately threatening when I mumbled: “If you drop me –“

Rhys smiled brightly. “Don´t worry, darling. I rarely drop anyone.”

I flicked his ear, and the grin I got in return made my heart stagger.

Rhys chuckled and raised his brows. “I´m insulted you think I wouldn´t try to catch you.”

My breath hitched, my mouth opening. “Try to catch me; you –“

Rhys´ wings opened as he took a step backwards, and with one strong beat, he launched into the air, leaving my stomach and my squeal down on the ground when we shot into the sky.

Wind whipped my hair as I squeezed my eyes shut tightly on instinct. My fingers dug into Rhys´ shoulders, my legs locked so tight around his waist it could not have been comfortable, but he just held me steadily as his wings carried us higher and higher. I didn´t dare look, instead hastily turning my head to bury my face in the crook of his neck, and I could feel Rhysand´s chuckle rumble deep in his chest, the arm slipped around my waist tightening.

“You know, if you look down to your left right now –“ The teasing tilt of his deep voice right at my ear made me dig my nails into his shoulders, his warm laugh causing my stomach to dip for an entirely different reason than the way he leaned to the right as he dove into an elegant curve, wings stretched wide as they took us higher and higher with powerful movements.

When, after what felt like an eternity, Rhys´ feet finally touched solid ground, my muscles had cramped into place. I refused to raise my head from where my nose was pressed into Rhysand´s neck, keeping my eyes shut tightly. Just in case.

It definitely did not have anything to do with the fact his scent had filled my lungs or how warm he was, warm and solid and feeling oh-so-right.

Rhys chuckled lightly, his grip loosening until only his right arm was resting under my thighs, supporting my weight effortlessly, and I could feel air graze my skin as his wings disappeared into the shadows. Then his warm breath brushed over my ear, causing my heart to miss a beat when his nose gently nudged my temple.

“You can open your eyes now, starshine.”

Ignoring the teasing tilt in his voice, I furrowed my brows, eyes still squeezed shut.

“Are you sure?” My lips brushed over Rhys´ neck with my sceptic grumble, and it almost felt like he shivered a little under the touch. He just huffed in amusement, and I cracked open an eye, peaking over his shoulder.

My heart stilled, and my breath hitched as my lips opened softly.

Slowly, I raised my head.

Terraces stretched away from the mountain and the façade of a palace carved out of the very stone, shimmering in the moonlight. Blooming trees and gardens flanked the stone balustrades, lanterns and fires dipping everything in a golden light. And far, far in the vale below us, the Sidra glittered in the moonlight, and around it, Velaris stretched into the distance, a maze of cobblestone streets, blooming trees and sandstone buildings, lit in a warm golden light that reflected in the river while mountains rose in the distance, guarding the city from all around as they rose high into the night sky. A night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my whole life. Glittering, twinkling in galaxies stretching to the horizon, hues of lilac and pink gleaming in the pitch black darkness.

It was so beautiful, it caused my chest to ache.

I hadn´t realised my throat had closed up until I swallowed harshly, something skipping violently against my ribs when I whispered: “Oh.”

Rhys shifted, and I turned my head, my heart getting stuck in my throat when I found his eyes already on my face. There was a light in them, like they were reflecting the galaxies above as they pierced into mine, one corner of his lips curved upwards just enough for a crease to appear in his cheek and my breath to falter.

Suddenly, I realised I was still clinging to him, bodies still pressed together, so close that our noses were almost touching. Yet he didn´t make any move to let go.

Lightly swallowing again, anything to fight the sudden urge to lean forward, I unlocked my legs from around his waist, and Rhys loosened his grip enough to carefully place me on the ground. When my feet hit the stone floor, my knees almost buckled, and Rhys caught me by the waist, his eyes dancing with amusement when he leaned down his head a little, grinning at me.

“Am I making you weak?”

I had enough sense to hit his biceps instead of just gaping at him.

Rhys chuckled and straightened. “Come on.” His hand slipped to the small of my back, and his chest bumped into my shoulder as he began to gently push me towards a pair of big doors leading into the House of Wind. “I´ll show you your room.”

Following Rhys through the halls, I felt my heart skip lightly. It felt a little strange, like the mountain was humming softly, not quite a presence like the one of the male next to me, but still –

“You´ll stay right down the hall from me.” Rhys threw me a look, his eyes twinkling. “In case you get lonely.”

I huffed, trying to ignore the strange tingle down my spine, and Rhys chuckled, creases forming in his cheeks.

“Where is everyone?” I slipped my bag onto my shoulder.

“Az and Cass are staying in the city right now. You'll meet them and Mor tomorrow.”

I sent him a cheeky grin. “Still scared they´re going to steal me away?”

Rhys slowed as we reached a door, and his eyes moved over my face, then he blinked, one corner of his lips rising softly. “More than ever.”

Looking up at him, I felt my brows furrow gently, something turning a little in my chest, but then he pushed open the door, and as I stepped over the threshold, my eyes got caught on the ceiling and the star constellations depicted in golden paint on inky black, and my breath hitched.

“Oh.”

☆

I woke up from the mountain trembling.

It was far past midnight. The sky was deep black, the stars twinkling, and I had fallen asleep with a soft skip in my chest, the bed in the guest room soft like a cloud, my eyes on the constellations painted onto the ceiling. But now, my breath was heaving, a pressure on my chest that wasn´t coming from me, like a weight pressing me down, and my eyes widened as horror took over me.

Rhys.

Scrambling to my feet, I almost stumbled when the tremble of the mountain stopped, the windowpanes no longer clinking. My heart skipped into my throat, and I slid over towards the door, ripping it open – and barely catching the tall figure tumbling through it.

“What –“ My eyes widened as my heart tightenend harshly, and I nearly lost my breath at the wave of emotions crashing over me as warm, sweaty skin pressed against mine. Then Rhys´ soft, broken voice sounded next to my ear.

“I´m sorry.”

My throat closed, pulled tighter and tighter as I felt his fingers digging into my waist and the way his chest heaved with his shuddering breaths, and pulling back, I slipped my hands up to cup the sides of his face, staring at him and feeling something press onto my chest at the sight of dried teartracks on his cheeks and his eyes, iris blown and utterly terrified.

Trying to swallow, I whispered, my voice cracking slightly: “Come on.”

Pushing the door open with my shoulder, I slipped under his arm and wrapped my own around his waist, and something closed around my heart like an iron fist when I felt Rhys lean heavily against me, his nose brushing over my hair as I started to guide him towards the bed. He sank onto the mattress, and I slipped between his legs, my hands carefully cupping his face as I tracked his heart rate, off and racing, felt a slight tremble run through his body. Then his hands slid around my waist and pulled me forward, and something pulsed harshly, painfully in my chest when Rhys wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my shirt. I could feel something wet seep through the fabric and barely fought back the burn in my eyes, a heavy weight on my throat when I slid my arms over Rhys´ shoulders and buried my nose in his soft hair.

Rhys held onto me until I felt his heartbeat calm a little. Then his grip around my waist tightened, and he pulled back, arms slow to slide away from me, hands coming to rest at the back of my thighs.

“I´m sorry for waking you up,”, he mumbled, and his rough voice caused something to break a little in my chest. "It´s why the others are staying in the city, but - I couldn´t stand the thought of you being here but not with me."

My breath hitched, heart skipping high.

Slowly sitting down on the mattress, I pulled my legs up. Something skipped harshly against my ribs as I watched Rhys, his hunched frame, so unlike him, head dropped, hair dishevelled as he ran his hands over his face.

“What happened?”, I whispered, barely audible and a little uneven.

Rhys turned his head, and something skipped hard against my ribs when his eyes found mine, pained and raw. Then he mumbled, hollow and hoarse: “She killed you.”

My heart beat once before stilling.

“I always dream about it. Her killing you.” Rhys blinked, staring into nothingness. Then he turned, slowly pulling myself up until he was sitting fully on the mattress, back against the headboard. There were dark circles under his eyes, skin sallow. I hadn´t even fully realised he wasn´t wearing a shirt until I saw the scar on his collarbone that I knew hadn´t been there. Before.

Rhys swallowed, staring at my knee. Then he mumbled: “Even though I´m back here, I feel like some part of me is still trapped down there.” A muscle in his jaw shifted, pain flashing through his eyes. “With her. I can still feel her, whenever I close my eyes. When I sleep, I dream about – what she did. It makes me –“ His face twisted into something that made my breath still. Then he blinked and raised his eyes, and they found mine, tired and a little broken when he mumbled: “I never wanted you to have to witness that. What she did, what she made me do – wasn´t just for her pleasure.” His voice crumbled a little when he mumbled: “It was just another way of torture.”

My fingers trembled, but I kept staring at him, feeling my breath shake. My eyes were burning, and there was a pressure on my chest, a weight that made my body ache as I couldn´t tear my eyes away from him, the male in front of me who had always been sure and charming and overly confident boarding on annoyingly arrogant and who now looked tired and a little empty, like something deep inside him had been shattered.

All because of her.

I didn´t realise I had started to shake, my whole body so tense, my fingers dug into my knees until Rhysand´s soft, slightly cautios voice made me tear away my eyes from the scar on his collarbone.

“Starshine?”

My eyes darted up to meet his, and Rhys looked at me with his head tipped to the side.

“You´re glowing.”

I blinked before hastily drawing away my eyes, swallowing against the pressure in my throat as I found a golden light pulsing around me.

Quickly, I furrowed my brows, drawing back the magic, even though it still raged soundlessly in my chest, then I raised my head again, and my heart tightened when I met Rhys´ eyes that were already on my face.

Trying to fight the ache in my chest, I whispered, my voice hoarse: “I should have ripped her to shreds.”

Rhys breathed a laugh, and something tumbled in my chest at the way his eyes crinkled slightly, some of the familiar curve of his lips returning onto his face when he looked up at me. That slightly broken look was still there, and even though he was smiling softly, I could feel his pain.

Before I could stop myself, I dove forward, tackling him in a hug so forceful, it knocked the wind out of him; his arms catching me in reflex the only thing preventing me from slipping right off the other side of his lap.

I could feel Rhys freeze for nothing more than a second. Then a slow breath left him. His shoulders sagged and his arms circled around me, pulling me into his chest so tightly, I lost my breath, his grip almost squashing my ribs, and something stilled in my chest when he turned his head to bury his face in the crook of my neck.

I tried to swallow against the weight in my chest, pressing my nose against his shoulder and closing my eyes tightly.

“I wish I could take it away.” My voice was nothing more than a whisper, but I knew Rhys had heard me, because he shook his head without pulling back, his face still pressed into my neck, and something fluttered against my throat when he mumbled, voice so rough, it vibrated over my skin: “You´ve already done much more than I could ever give back.”

“Rhys –“

“You saved me.” Even though his deep voice was steady, it sounded raspy, and a little breathless when he added in a soft murmur: “You have been saving me since the day I met you.”

My heart did one small skip. Then it stilled.

Staring at the wall, I tried to fight the pressure in my throat as something warm rolled over my cheek, and I fisted my hands, quickly burying my nose at his shoulder and squeezing my eyes shut tightly.

There was an ache in my chest I couldn´t explain.

Rhys propped his chin onto my shoulder, his hand gently running over my back, and I sniffled and huffed, my voice grumbly and a little shaky when I mumbled: “Shouldn´t I be comforting you?”

Rhys breathed a chuckle, and the sound filled something in my chest I hadn´t realised had been empty.

“I think it´s fine if we comfort each other.” I could hear the way his lips had curved and breathed out, threading my fingers through the hair at the back of his head as I pressed my nose against his shoulder.

A low hum left Rhys that had his chest vibrating and something jump in my stomach, and when I pulled back lightly, his eyes had closed as he leaned back into my touch. There was something so unguarded about this face, hurt and tension and restlessness still visible in the way his brows were crunched a little, but the shadows of Under the Mountain seemed to fade slowly as a light rumble built in his chest, voice rough when he mumbled: “I think I need headscratches.”

My heart skipped, and I felt my lips curve into a slow, soft but cheeky smile.

“Are my ears deceiving me or is the mighty High Lord of the Night Court actually asking me for headscratches…“

Rhys´ grip around my waist tightened when he huffed and cracked open an eye, but one corner of his lips quirked when he glared at me.

“Yes, so think about your answer, because the High Lord is going to remember if you decide to deny them to him.”

I breathed a laugh, grinning widely at him.

“One, you´re not my High Lord, in case you forgot about it, that isn't really a thing for me, which leads me to two; are you trying to use your title on me, because you know I am not exactly impressed by something like that –“

“Well, you could be impressed by other things -“ The rest of his words went under in a deep, soft chuckle when I lightly tugged at his hair, just enough to make a grin spread over Rhys´ face.

Feeling my heart skip, I loosened my grip, and Rhys´ eyes rolled back a little when my nails raked gently over his scalp. Something twitched in my stomach at the way he groaned softly, head tipping back into my touch, the movement exposing the curve of his throat. I swallowed softly, watching as little by little, my fingers massaged away the tension clinging to the male in front of me. His shoulders slowly slumped, hands around my waist relaxing before gently pulling me closer in what felt like subconcious, and I was suddenly glad his eyes had fluttered shut, attention clearly somewhere else, because I couldn´t keep myself from holding my breath.

Stupidly pretty.

When I finally slid my fingers out of his hair, Rhys looked close to falling asleep on the spot. His eyes were drooping as he fought to open them fully, gaze seeming a little dazed as he blinked a few times, and I felt my lips curve when I gently poked my finger into his chest.

“Happy?”

Rhys´s eyes found mine, and something skipped high into my throat when they pierced into mine, tired and warm and still twinkling softly. Then one corner of his lips rose a little. “Profoundly.”

Staring at him, I felt something surge in my chest, warm and rising, and my lips curved cheekily as I raised my brows, whispering a little roughly: “Good.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other, and I knew that I should have broken eye contact, should have looked away, because the way my heart was beating against my ribs, firm and steady, was strange and scary - but I didn´t. Not when Rhys was watching me like that, tired, lips curved up far enough for his cheek to crease.

I blinked, then I tipped my head to the side a little, mumbling softly to not disturb the quiet: “Are you going to try and get some sleep?”

Rhys stared at me, something behind that tired sparkle in his eyes when he mumbled back, voice almost a little rough: “Are you going to get me back if she finds me again?”

My heart slipped into my throat, and I barely suppressed the urge to swallow, instead sending him a soft, crooked smile, mumbling quietly: “I´ll fight her over and over again if I have to.”

Rhys stared at me, and blinking, I carefully slipped off his lap, tugging up the blanket and sliding under it. Rhys followed, heavily turning onto his side, and I let my head sink into my pillow, my eyes tracking over his face. Then, before I could stop myself, I slid closer, and I almost thought I could feel Rhys´ breath hitch when I wrapped my arm around his waist and buried into his chest.

“I hope for your sake you don´t snore,”, I grumbled softly into his warm skin, and something that felt a little like a shudder went through Rhys´ body, then his arms slipped around my shoulder and squeezed, pulling me into his chest until even the last bit of me was pressed into his body. My heart got stuck in my throat when I felt him bury his nose in my hair, then Rhys mumbled, his voice almost a little hoarse: “Why, would you kick me?”

My heart skipped gently, and I felt my lips curve into a slow, cheeky smile as I whispered back: "Don´t think I´ll spare you, High Lord."

I could feel Rhys´ lips rise, then he breathed out softly, and slowly, very slowly, his heartbeat calmed, only occasionally hitching gently. Exhaling lightly, I closed my eyes and felt something pulse gently in my chest.

"Night,", I mumbled softly, and Rhys´ hand slipped up, fingers tangling into my hair, his thumb gently brushing over the back of my neck and causing a tingle to run over my skin when he mumbled back: "Good Night, starshine."

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