#a tragedy of fawns and fate

[yanny-77]

ATOFAF: Chapter 28: Lucien's Return

Capter 1 | Chapter 28 | 4,204/137,882 Words Summary: In the days before Beron's funeral and Eris's ascension ceremony, Lucien returns to Velaris. He and his friends from Midgard have lunch at the cafe where they run into someone Lucien isn't keen to see.

Note: I didn't have anyone proof this chapter for final edits. Sorry not sorry. Feel free to let me know of any typos you see.

Excerpt:

“Sometimes I think that they’re right.” Lucien hung his head, trapped in his own thoughts. A broken male. For a moment, no one moved, no one even breathed. Declan searched desperately for something to say. Something to ease the lines on Lucien’s face. Something to ease the ache in his own chest. He came up short.  But Ruhn didn’t. Ruhn stood slowly and made his way to Lucien and crouched before him so that he could look directly into the male’s downcast eyes. “We are not our fathers.” A hard determination settled over Ruhn’s features. “Their sins are not ours, and we do not have to follow in their footsteps. We can make our own path.”

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#a tragedy of fawns and fate #yanny wips #declan emmet #declan emmet pov #lucien vanserra #tharion ketos #ithan holstrom #ruhn danaan #bryce quinlan

[edenmemes]

house of the dragon starters

ep1 - 10 .

❝ try not to look too relieved. ❞ ❝ did you sleep? how long? ❞ ❝ no king has ever lived that hasn't had to forfeit the lives of a few to protect the many. ❞ ❝ i don’t need mothering. ❞ ❝ it is our fate, i think, to crave always what is given to another. ❞ ❝ you’re safe with me, i swear it. ❞ ❝ to elude a storm, you can either sail into it or around it. but you must never await its coming. ❞ ❝ i have only ever defended you. ❞ ❝ i've always thought of you and i as having been made from the same cloth. ❞ ❝ you will address me as "your grace" or i will have my guard cut out your tongue. ❞ ❝ i’d rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory. ❞ ❝ you’re always like this when you’re worried. disagreeable. ❞ ❝ i like this position. it’s quite comfortable. ❞ ❝ how sweetly the fox speaks when it’s been cornered by hounds. ❞ ❝ we haven’t spoke much...since... ❞ ❝ i do not wish to rule over a kingdom of ash and bone. ❞ ❝ i was never much of a dancer. ❞ ❝ do you want me to kill him? ❞ ❝ i’m asking with you to come with me...away from all of this. ❞ ❝ come, eat. fortify yourself for the journey. ❞ ❝ you swore to protect me. ❞ ❝ what will they say of me when the histories are written? ❞ ❝ it’s the only thing i have to my fucking name! ❞ ❝ look what my life became without you. a droll tragedy. ❞ ❝ strive to restore whatever scrap of honor you have left. ❞ ❝ our worth is not given. it must be made. ❞ ❝ it pleases me to hear you say this. that i am not alone in my grief. ❞ ❝ if you mean to elicit some anger from me, you should know that you're failing. ❞ ❝ it bothers you, does it not? ❞ ❝ the realm owes you a great debt. ❞ ❝ all i wanted was for someone to say that they were sorry for what happened to me. ❞ ❝ we must all mourn in our own way. ❞ ❝ do you have a specific course of action to propose? ❞ ❝ we're both people who have had to cut our own way through the world. ❞ ❝ were that to happen, losses would be incalculable. ❞ ❝ it was not my intent to make offense. ❞ ❝ when steel is drawn, a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect. ❞ ❝ i find i have...few friends lately. ❞ ❝ we don’t belong here. ❞ ❝ i only want to help you. ❞ ❝ you cannot believe such gossip. ❞ ❝ just get out. leave me at once. ❞ ❝ to have every young knight and lord fawning over you...what a misery. ❞ ❝ you’ve been much alone these past few years. alone and angry. ❞ ❝ the road ahead is uncertain, but the end is clear. ❞ ❝ you’re young. you will learn. ❞ ❝ this is just what i need...a little adventure. ❞ ❝ care for some company? ❞ ❝ what is this brief mortal life...if not the pursuit of legacy? ❞ ❝ the wise sailor flees the storm as it gathers. ❞ ❝ you are a plague...sent to destroy me. ❞ ❝ for one night, i wish to be free of the burdens of my inheritance. ❞ ❝ do you wish to hear my opinion on the matter? ❞ ❝ i’ve been alone. you abandoned me. ❞ ❝ i’ve decided to remain here and read instead. ❞ ❝ if there were another path...one that led to freedom...would you take it? ❞ ❝ we should be free to speak our minds to one another. ❞ ❝ everything i’ve given you, you’ve thrown back in my face. ❞ ❝ answer me. it’s important. ❞ ❝ do you never long for home? ❞ ❝ i know you’ve never seen true battle. ❞ ❝ your heart is even darker than i thought. ❞ ❝ you think yourself a cunning person. your plans are obvious. ❞ ❝ you never were one to stay idle. ❞ ❝ do not speak of this again. ❞ ❝ they whisper about me in the corridors. ❞ ❝ am i your prisoner? ❞ ❝ have the decency to look grateful. do you know what has been done to give you this day? ❞ ❝ love...is a downfall. ❞ ❝ we’re free to do as we please. ❞ ❝ you will make a fearsome knight. ❞ ❝ just take my arm, at the least. ❞ ❝ it seems the gods have been especially cruel to you. ❞ ❝ i will be a stranger when we meet again. ❞ ❝ you dare put hands on me? ❞ ❝ you look so much like your mother in certain lights. ❞ ❝ i have no shortage of allies. ❞ ❝ who gives a fuck what some lord thinks? ❞ ❝ take your fucking hands off me. ❞ ❝ a certain insolence runs in the family. ❞ ❝ meat without wine is a sin. ❞ ❝ i gave up the idea of wearing a crown generations ago. ❞ ❝ are you...are you hurt? ❞ ❝ reluctance to murder is not a weakness. ❞ ❝ exhausting, isn’t it? hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. ❞ ❝ we have nothing in common. ❞ ❝ you deserve better than what i have been. ❞ ❝ you are an honorable man with a good heart. it’s a rare thing. ❞ ❝ i promise you, in time, you and i together will prevail. ❞ ❝ life has, i know, disappointed you. ❞ ❝ if a king isn’t feared, he is powerless. ❞ ❝ i’d rather ride alone. ❞ ❝ be careful. one could take your words for treason. ❞ ❝ i’ve never seen that side of you...i even doubted its existence. ❞ ❝ i will have the truth of what happened. now. ❞ ❝ do you wish to know your death? ❞ ❝ if we don’t mind our own histories, it will do the same to us. ❞ ❝ i believe you were made to wear the crown. ❞ ❝ we are turning back, all right? ❞ ❝ everyone’s staring at us. ❞ ❝ i would say it’s nice to be home, but i scarcely recognize it. ❞ ❝ most of my years have been spent living in terror. ❞ ❝ all that i have, i owe to you. ❞ ❝ i’ve wondered many an hour what your purpose was in coming here. ❞ ❝ what can either of us know of ruling a kingdom? ❞ ❝ does the promise of war excite you? ❞ ❝ none of this is a game. and yet you treat it like one. ❞ ❝ a matter has arisen that requires your attention. ❞ ❝ night time, you might not be so lucky. ❞ ❝ i have no wish to rule! no taste for duty! i am not suited. ❞ ❝ you flee what other men die seeking. ❞ ❝ i endured it for as long as i could. ❞ ❝ we don’t choose our destiny. it chooses us. ❞ ❝ it is ill luck to look upon the face of death. ❞ ❝ you’ve already found enough trouble today. ❞ ❝ who might you be running from, now? ❞ ❝ i am yours and you are mine. ❞ ❝ i will not have blood shed beneath my roof. ❞ ❝ we are closer to gods than to men. ❞ ❝ you shouldn’t do this alone. let us help you. ❞ ❝ that war is not mine to begin. ❞ ❝ it has been so long since we were granted the joy of your presence. ❞ ❝ how could you allow such a thing to happen? ❞ ❝ do not allow your temper to guide your judgement. ❞ ❝ now they see you as you are. ❞ ❝ do you want to know the truth of it? i was frightened. ❞ ❝ you desire not to be free, but to make a window in the wall of your prison. ❞ ❝ you are wiser than i believed you to be. ❞ ❝ i speak the truth. and you know it. ❞ ❝ hope is the fool’s ally. ❞ ❝ while i like your support, i do not need it. ❞ ❝ go to your chambers. you have said enough. ❞ ❝ i thought i wanted it, but the burden is a heavy one. ❞ ❝ i understand you’ve found yourself in some trouble. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 7

Synopsis: The first time.

A/n: I'm touch starved. And illiterate. Please enjoy! I cried 3 times writing this. Also, to my mutuals, I love you. To my readers, I love you. To Peter Capaldi, Sir??? Please??? One chance! To the 12th doctor, come home the kids miss you...

Oh, her face. The nervous look was delicious. The way she was trying to throw her weight around. The way she was making these cords of rationalization and connections.

His little doe-eyed human. A fawn. Maybe he’d call her that…

The way that she came undone. Of course, he felt her heart rate accelerating. Dangerously close to deafening. Her pupils dilated and sharpened, the little hitch her breathing took.

He felt himself give in to the animal. A byproduct of his exposure to Earthlings. His body adjusted and he felt all too eager to feel like an ape. Act like an ape. Not a species that rose above physical reproduction and it’d many impulses. Missy was right. These Earth girls were dangerous.

This was a very coordinated dance he was playing. Give her a bit of a taste of the real grandeur. Something in both mind and body so intimate.

She wasn’t wrong, as she said he was playing God. Perceptive. Very. He liked that about her, saw things from a side of the map others didn’t, even if she went in an atypical way.

He crowded himself in her brain in such a miniscule way as he closed in on her. Ending the space between them.

But he wasn’t going to leap until she gave him a clear sign of consent. He wasn’t a monster, of course. Just a man. A man with needs at the end of the day.

“Maybe.” She shivered. Getting further under his spell.

“Maybe isn’t good enough.” He pushed on her further. Getting closer.

He saw her give up and in.

There was his cue! He gripped the chair, letting his hands to brush onto hers.

She let her head shake in affirmation.

Game over. He won.

He went in, crushing her lips with a biting kiss. Cutting deeply between her breaths. He removed one hand from his grasp on the chair and tenderly grasped the angle of her face between it. Fully feral, taking what he was owed.

He was watching her eyes and saw the startled look fading. Something that spoke against her dignity and guard. It was real, real and he invoked it in her! A victory! Clear and concise!

He convinced himself to pull himself off of her. Give her the option of comfort.

“Now darling…” He muttered, petting her hair. “I can take you here on this chair. Or the floor.”

Her famous thinking and asymmetrical wit fired back.

“Make it a cliché. Fuck me on the desk.” She heaved. Collecting herself before leading herself there.

“Your wish is my command.”

She already was starting to remove her clothes. Already well-trained. He wouldn’t have to break her in as a companion. Maybe she wouldn’t be fate to a dark tragedy if he took her off to the stars.

He shook himself of those tragic thoughts.

He’d keep her here on Earth. His little safe secret. His to keep, his to cherish. To own. Away from covetous eyes or unforeseen consequences.

Maybe one day he’d introduce Missy to her. Trot her out. Have her behold his wares. His reward.

The possibilities were endless.

Back in the present moment, however. He had a beautiful woman, wet and ready on his desk.

He turned the photo of Susan around and put it face down.

His cock was hardening.

He quickly undid his trousers and produced a condom from his back pocket. He valued her illusions of safety. He doubted that he’d impregnate or infect her. But she’d probably thank him for the consideration.

He grasped the nape of her neck, curling a fistful of her hair in his grasp. Inhaling the scent, perfume, sweat, her pheromones and a trace of tobacco and the outdoors. An ode to her environments. He took and pulled her forward and lain flat against the surfaces.

Popping kisses across her breasts and caressing her throat with his lips and practically lapping up the beginning of a moan coming from her mouth.

His other hand got busy, she had to be ready for him. He could give her that. A bit of pleasure before he properly entered her. A long finger snaked it’s way to her pussy.

He could be different. He was. A trillion times better. No human man could outdo him.

He slowly stroked her clit with his thumb as he parted her folds. Delicate work. Like rewiring the TARDIS or building a device to track and contain shadow creatures from the 12th dimension. Miniscule little circles speeding up on the throbbing little head. Her entire cunt was slick. Made the entry with his middle finger deft into the tight center.

She was very muscular down there. It was a nice, tight vice grip. Would be great to feel with his twitching cock. His balls were aching…

His little fawn was starting to relax her grip on the desk, she leaned back like a very good girl and her legs sprawled open further. Her back arched up and her breathing hitched a bit more again. Her head cocked to the side and she watched him, her hands playing with themselves as they rest on her stomach.

“Show me some courage.” He goaded, slipping another finger inside. “You’ve been wanting this. I’ve seen you. I’ve noticed how you can’t stop watching me. Wanting me. Poor (y/n), can’t focus on her studies because of clever old me.”

He worked her deeper, as she rushed out a caustic, “Fuck you.” She clenched herself around his fingers. “Fuck you for making me want you!” She tried to accuse as she whimpered along.

“There’s a doll.” He said before releasing his grasp on her cunt. He could take that response.

He leaned forward and kissed her as he put on the condom. She grasped his hair and replied wordlessly, ferociously. Her breath tasted of her freshly consumed hot chocolate, old mint and honey tea, a cigarette and some mix of dental products. There was revelation and acceptance in her eyes and screaming loudly from her mind.

He wondered if, with the way she was broadcasting, if anyone sensitive enough to these frequencies in the next solar system over was picking it up.

Laying an arm across her chest and one braced on the desk. It was time.

He slowly thrust into her. A nice, even motion. Working slowly and evenly, he made sure that he was careful to not cause any pain. He’d forgotten a very important aspect of sex with humans, they needed lubrication to keep it nice and more than pleasurable. He hoped what little came on the condom already and how soaked she was would keep things feeling nice for her. He was spoken for.

He leaned down, putting the full weight of his body on her and went a little harder and a little faster. Whispering in her praise about what a good and patient human she was. That she was so smart and clever. A good student. And a new bright star in his personal cosmos.

His little pet fawn rocked her hips up, trying to match his pace in synchronization.

Eventually matching his.

It was a delight! He resisted the urge to go faster, even though time was running out. He didn’t exactly hang a sock on the door. Someone was bound to walk in. But he let himself luxuriate in the experience of his flesh on hers.

(Y/n) put her hands on his shoulders and brought herself up around, bucking up and trying to get herself to go faster. A hazy, lost clouded her face. But her jaw was determined.

What else could he do but oblige? He sped up, grunting. He would finish them both up.

He felt himself fluster and her legs kick up around his body.

An electric shot of pleasure rocked through his body and arched out from him, he could feel a monumental shudder come as he orgasmed. The tips of his fingers felt numb and his hearts beat alight in his chest- echoed by the singular heart in hers. All three pounding as he cupped her and brought her to a sitting position, pulling himself out of her.

He purred, as he pulled the used condom off his shaft. A gentle lob into the bin dealt with that.

“Are you still needy, darling? Want me to Doctor it?” He chuckled internally at his little joke.

“Yes, please, Professor.” She cried out. Clearly not finished. He reminded himself to correct her at another time and inform her of his true Chosen Name. But for now she needed to cum. He could do that for her.

He got on both knees and brushed her swollen, raw eager cunt.

He was like a man on death row, and his last meal was served.

He kissed her inner thighs and wrapped an arm around her thighs. He kissed her folds and gave a little suck and her knees automatically buckled towards his head. Her hands playfully combing through his hair. He continued to kiss and nibble and lick. Deeper and harder. More attention to her clit…

Her moans and grunts turned to suppressed screams. She was thrashing around his desk beautifully.

“Oh, I’m so close!” She confessed after a particularly hard to hold in shout.

He rewarded her with her orgasm.

Static electricity passed between then it seemed. A connecting current. Good, he thought, bonding.

Somehow, they ended up on the floor in front of his desk and she was wrapped in her jacket and his hoodie was laid on top of her legs. His pants were still pulled down to his shoes.

She spoke first.

It was shaky and her stammer was back.

“I don’t want to seem rude…but I don’t want to…not…do this again. And don’t think I did this for…wrong reasons. Please… don’t give me special treatment…because I let you hit…I never wanted this to happen…or had any ulterior motives. I really liked you. From the first class I had with you…I…yeah.” She seemingly couldn’t finish the sentence. She started to bring her hand up to rip off a finger nail.

The Doctor stopped her, bringing her hand down and resting it on her lap, his firmly on top.

“Yeah. Me too. I don’t take lovers anymore. I don’t need a distraction, but you? Wandered into my classroom like a fawn separated from its mother too early. A mystery. And of course you aren’t. I’ve seen your ethics. You may have some push and pull. But you’re still not a cheat. You would have found other ways to get ahead if you were…”

“Yeah.” She stared at the carpet.

“You’ll get special treatment because you’re special.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t I whatsapp you? We can discuss this further. I have a class to teach soon. And you have your life.”

The two cleaned up, dressed up, swapped numbers and the Doctor kissed her hand gingerly.

He had to think.

“Don’t be lasagne.” He said. Shaking his head at a memory.

“Okay…I won’t.” (Y/n) shot him a puzzled look.

“And please, (y/n) take the hot chocolate.”

She reached down and took it before scurrying out.

Putting the picture of Susan back in place, he smiled at the guitar on the wall…

Lots to plot, more to do.

She might be perfect yet!

#personal #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #self insert #i wrote this #12th doctor #12th doctor x reader #12th doctor x you #you x 12th doctor #reader x 12th doctor #im in my midlife crisis era #lol #power thru #no beta we die like men

[cursehole]

saw your oc lore post.... my time to shine >:3

the big 4! little moon, cupid, permanent hole, and fortune!! what the heck are those sillies!!! do they know each other?

oh my gosh dsfsdfI'm flattered you'd ask hehI'll write in the undercut and try to keep it short.

Before all this tho, I think it's important to understand that my ocs and the world they inhabit dont need to make sense logically. Think of it as a children's book. Roald Dahl's books, for instance, or something like 'The Chocolate Touch' etc All in all, my ocs dont make logical sense. They live in a world where stuff just IS.

So! Fortune and Cupid do know one another, and Fortune loves Cupid very much. If you've ever seen a kid just fawn over an actor (like I did when I was a kid over Leonardo DiCaprio) that's the vibe. Cupid lives in a well, and Fortune visits often to throw in a coin to see him. He's generally nice to her, but a little confused and just rolls with it like 'ok this little dog wants to run around my well and look at me for a few minutes. That's fine.' Fortune on her own is a little wandering dog. She was born from a sentient "blood" puddle, perhaps a puppy fell in and was blessed with sentience as well. Fortune remembers her first moments of life, but has lost her way back to the puddle. She longs to see it again, and she wanders to find it. She may "tell your fortune" if you happen to meet her, however, it may or may not be a reliable reading. Her strongest and most accurate predictions are usually bad omens or looming tragedy. If you're in danger, Fortune will certainly tell you. I draw her in many ways that don't relate to her lore, of course. She is fun to explore with, and often ends up expressing many of my emotions etc! ( People ask me often if the puddle is a SCP inspired thing, but its inspired by the birth of Lurtz in LoTR and Shadowmere who is born from a tar pit lol) Cupid on his own IS a bad omen, perhaps why Fortune is so aware of him, whereas others only glimpse him before disaster strikes. Cupid is not evil, nor is he good. He is indifferent, guided by a nature one cannot relate to. If you see him, you are likely at the finale of your life. If you're lucky enough, Fortune may help you avoid your terrible fate by guiding you to Cupid's well. If you throw down a few coins or something of value, Cupid will spare you by not appearing to you at all, therefore successfully evading your disastrous end. Permanent Hole is more symbolic than Fortune and Cupid. He represents being at your absolute worse. He represents that constant drag that threatens to bring you into the darkest pit of yourself, thats why he is a 'cat' living in a hole. You could be grabbed at any moment, or simply fall in. He will try his hardest to tempt you to come his way because it feels easier to be in a dark hole and let yourself go. He knows you personally, and you him. He remembers you, he will try to bring you back to that hole again. But never fear, his arms can only reach so far and you can avoid him if you can find it in yourself to walk right by. Ideally, someday you can fill that hole and bury him forever. Little Moon is also more symbolic I guess. He brings back your fondest memories, though they can hurt sometimes. You might try to let a memory go, because it has been broken, but he will bring them back to you in dreams and thoughts you have quietly before bed. He can only come to you during the full moon, he crosses the sky for you and slips into you. He can feel what you feel, he knows what you love and what you need to keep. He won't let you forget. (Cats have always been something I relate myself to idk why) Anyway, thank you for asking :~) I hope you like them!

#ocs #permanent hole #fortune #little moon #cupid #ask #anon #edit

[separatist-apologist]

I need EVERYONE to listen to me. Last night, scrolling through the elain tag, I found the most amazing fic. And I know when I explain the premise people are going to act wrong, which is why everyone needs to shhhh.

I don't need to explain my elucien credentials. Does this fic feature a broken elucien bond? Yes. And was I very nervous about that? Of course. But it's so well-done and so satisfying for the story (so far, since there are only 7 chapters thus far) that I wasn't even mad. It did not hurt my soft elucien heart.

This is a crossover between ACOTAR/CC, and the main pairing is Lord Hawthorne (DADDY) and Elain Archeron. I just need people to read this, okay? My group chat read it last night at 10pm and we were FOAMING at the mouth. It is, first of all, SO WELL WRITTEN. Like plot wise, it's immaculate, the style is lovely, and the blending of ACOTAR/CC is really well-done.

It has Azris as a pairing, it's got Elain spiraling into rock bottom, I assume so she has somewhere to go. It has like, fairytale LORE, like I don't know how else to convince people to read this. It seems like it should be a joke, but it's not. This is the sort of fanfic people should write songs about. I think it deserves legend-like status in the fandom, I'll die on that hill.

Don't believe me? GO READ IT AND TELL THE AUTHOR HOW INSANELY GOOD IT IS WHEN YOU REALIZE IM RIGHT. You'll see me in the comments, slowly losing my shit. I want to write fanfiction of this fanfiction.

The fic is A Tragedy of Fawns and Fate and the author is @yanny-77

#anyway #12 hours later and im still thinking about daddy hawthorne #elain archeron #fic rec #if you dont like this fic just go ahead and block me

[diamonata]

New art commission for A Tragedy of Fawns and Fate by yanny77 on AO3!

#acotar #acotar fanart #acotar fanfiction #crescentcity #bryce quinlan #lucien vanserra #tharion ketos #declan emmet #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath #maasverse

[biblioflyer]

What is Picard's narrative style?

Just sort of thinking aloud here, but I'm finding myself rather baffled by a particular sort of response to Jack Crusher that seems to be a reaction to a saccharine, uncritical adoration of him that I'm somehow completely unaware of. Maybe there's a huge area of the web that is fawning over Jack that I'm just not seeing because of the whims of the algorithm.

I have a feeling this reaction might be dependent on what framework people are looking at the show through and whether its the classic Trek framing of pulp drama and "protagonist centric morality" where Jack is somehow supposed to make us feel seen and be presumed to be correct in all things.

Which I think flies in the face of the sort of "prestige drama" framing of the streaming era where the protagonists are limited and fallible and while they may be motivated by high minded principles, adhering to those principles is not always easy: see also Crusher and Picard talking themselves into executing Vadic or Seven executing the gangster in season one, and the right course of action is not always obvious. I strongly believe that this is the more appropriate way to analyze Seasons One and Two of Picard, and I suspect Discovery becomes a richer series if one adopts this posture.

Speaking of which, this is all very reminiscent of criticism of Burnham oddly enough, which makes it extra odd and ironic because it also seems to be rooted in lingering anger over how the fandom has responded to Burnham and a perceived hypocrisy in the reception of Jack. Don't get me wrong, I got to like the guy even though I dislike both the secret lovechild trope and the messiah antichrist trope, but if I had thought I was supposed to assume he's objectively correct about everything and uber special, that would not have been the case.

If the assumption is that characters like Burnham and Jack are pulp action heroes then yes, the entire plot falls apart like a house of cards because they repeatedly do very poorly thought out things that turn out through happenstance to have been the right move after all for reasons no one could reasonably predict ahead of time. Additionally the plot winds up centering them as a key element in saving or condemning the Federation, the galaxy etc.

However! Greek tragedies involving Fate with a capital F also deal in self fulfilling prophecies and narratives that are going to fulfill themselves no matter how the characters try to resist. Some of the darkest stories humanity has ever told involved predestination paradoxes.

Which to me means that if we are to assume that modern Star Trek is more like The Expanse, Babylon 5, or even Deep Space Nine; absolutely no one should be assuming Jack is supposed to be an audience surrogate. He's just another mortal flailing his way through the story who didn't ask to be a chess piece in a Borg Xanatos gambit and, if anything, keeps trying to get people to stop dying in his stead.

People who are making these choices are very explicitly doing it not because Jack is uniquely deserving, but because he's not. The argument advanced time and again is that of solidarity. That actually the Vulcans are wrong and throwing people to the wolves because it would be more efficient from a consequentialist view is an error.

Now you don't have to buy that and I don't think Picard S3 actually did a great job of making this argument (major credit to Todd Stashwick for making what could easily have been yet another in a long line of Starfleet antagonists who have taken consequentialism too far and made him seem like the smartest guy in the room a lot of the time.)

But! If you think for instance that Turkey ought to be kicked out of NATO for its treatment of the Kurds with full recognition of the potential of earthquakes in the geopolitics of Southeastern Europe and the Middle East, or that the US is right to risk nuclear war to help Ukraine*: then there is an argument for sending a message to bad guys that there are people who will put skin in the game because its the right thing to do even if the risks are extreme. You could even make consequentialist arguments for following one's conscience that are rooted in solidarity and inspiring better behavior from others who may be inclined towards timidity.

*You are free to disagree with either of these propositions if that disagreement is rooted in reality and a legible ethical argument, I'm mainly using these as analogies rather than trying to sell the reader on them. The what, hows, whys, and other contingencies of geopolitics are fussy, the consequence vast, and I don't mean to flatten them.

Admittedly the debate over individualism vs consequentialism and Jack's narrative role is an argument that I think would have been strengthened if the series hadn't done an abrupt 180 on the recurring themes of the validity of people trying to solve problems on their own without having to be in Starfleet.

But there again, I get what was trying to be signaled by putting Jack, Raffi, and Seven on the bridge: Starfleet is turning the corner on excessive proceduralism. Which incidentally forgets that at several points in the narrative, the entire season might have been derailed if people had listened to Shaw, although I'm not unaware of the counter arguments about solidarity, humanity, and standing up to bullies....these just weren't arguments that were made well.

#star trek ethics #star trek picard #jack crusher #fandom critique #fandom commentary #michael burnham #liam shaw #picard season 3 #picard spoilers

[downingg2001]

Trembling Fawn (Part 4)

Elain sat in her rocking chair, her hands cradling her swollen belly. She hummed as she watched her husband run around the garden of rosehall, their three year old daughter on his shoulders. Her wings were flapping energetically and her giggles filled the air.  

Azalea was an easy birth, even with her beautifully large wings. Elain thanked the cauldron for it. But it didn’t keep her from worrying as she was being taught how to fly. Azriel couldn’t wait to teach her, his mini me in every way. From her curled ink black hair to her namesake. The only thing she had inherited from her mother was her softness. Her heart. But mother help her, when she didn't get her way, her temper was a storm to be reckoned with. Azriel of course gave in right away, often leaving Elain to have to play the strict parent.

It was hard for Azriel to adjust when Elain was pregnant with Azalea and even harder when she was born. The shadowsinger was scared to hold her, afraid his scars and darkness would corrupt his daughter, it wasn't till he witnessed his shadows soothing Azalea back to sleep in her rocker in the middle of the night, when he finally had enough.

He left his title of Spymaster with Rhysand. Their relationship had been rocky at the beginning of Elain’s and Azriel’s relationship but Rhys quickly got over it. He still worked for Rhysand but it was mostly paperwork and playing advocate with the other courts. Elain had often gone with him in the beginning, learning the trade of a spy. It helped that elain was seen as a ditz and naive. It made her an easy target for gossip.

Elain knew he missed the danger. Knew that he never thought this life would have been possible for him. But he tried. For her, for Azalea, and now he would try for their unborn son.  

But she also knew that he sharpened Truth Teller every night. Knew his shadows still whispered possible threats into his ears.

And she couldn’t blame him. Elain herself sensed something was coming. Some new threat that would harm her growing family. and it frightened her that she couldn’t see what.

Since she had become pregnant with her second, her head was constantly swarming with visions of the future. But they were constantly changing and hard to make out. They never stayed the same.

She often saw Azalea all grown up, switching between gowns and illyrian fighting leathers, a sword attached to her back and a crown made of dusk and shadows atop her head, no matter her attire. Her eyes often glowed cobalt blue and were glazed over. She would inherit both parents' powers. Her shadows were almost smoke light, gray and fluffy, not fully dark but not light either, and filled with a warmth that reminded Elain of a summer evening breeze.

But her son, he was swarmed in darkness, with no traces of light to be seen. A hand,like death, always covering his face..almost suffocating…

Then it would change…and he was consumed with light…a halo of sunlight over his head. The only shadows to be seen were that of his wings…made up of the shadows themselves. Elain wondered if Azriel would be upset over their son's lack of Illyrian wings or if he would be awe struck that he had the power to create his own.

Other times she saw him all alone, existing in nothinging but an empty space, no powers, no gifts, He was almost…human.

Whatever his fate, it seemed to be filled with tragedy…his life would have so many different paths and outcomes. And filled with such uncertainty…whereas Azalea’s seemed to be set in stone.

She felt a hint of anger, she would love her son no matter his future. Both her children and the children that would follow…They would all have the right to choose their own paths and cauldron help anyone that tried to take away her children's choices.

“MOMMY!”  Azalea's soft voice broke through.  

Elain looked up to see her daughter perring up at her, her golden eyes sparkling with wonder and innocence. Elain smiled “Yes darling”

“Daddy told me to come save you” Azalea placed her small delicate hand on Elain’s  belly and giggled.

“Save me from what, sweet girl?” Elain asked setting her daughter on her lap.

“The darkness..” Azalea said. Elain blew raspberries on Azalea's cheek earning another giggle from her daughter. “The darkness isn’t something to be afraid of, oftentimes it's our friend”.  

Elain let a shadow curl around her finger, before poking Azalea's nose with a boop.

Elain looked over at azriel, his hands were in his pockets as he stared at both of them, adoration written all over his face. Elain wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him teasingly, causing Azriel to shake his head with laughter,  before turning her attention back to her daughter.

“Have you decided on a name yet for your baby brother, Azalea?”.

Azalea nodded “ Yes mommy”.

Azriel strode over to them, picking up his daughter off her mothers laugh, he threw her in the air once, causing her wings to flare out with her laughter, before catching her and settling her in his arms “ And what did you come up with Lea?”.

“Melanthios”.

“Thats a very…unique name Lea’ azriel said.

“I saw it in one of Aunt Nesta's books!..it means dark flower”.

Elain looked at azriel and hummed. Both a little awestruck by their daughter.

“Melanthios”  she said to herself ..“Thios…Thesus...What do you think of Thesus?Azalea?”.

Azalea put her finger up to her pouty mouth then shrugged “ I changed my mind…i don’t like either one” Azalea squirmed out of her fathers arm and managed to get on his shoulders.

Azriel laughed “We will come back to the name thing later…how about some lunch?”.

“Only if mommy makes it,” Elain smiled at her family.

“My cooking is just as good as your mothers”.  

“No it’s not daddy”.

Azriel bent over, his shadows forming a bow and arrow and firing. Azriel clutched his heart as the fake arrows went through his chest.

“Daddy, I'm going to fall,” Lea burst into giggles, her hands grabbing at his hair to keep her balance on his shoulders.

Azriel stood up straight, whispying away the fake arrows and cleared his throat and readjusted Azalea.

“ Right. My bad..” he winked at Elain holding out a hand “Mrs. Archeron”

Elain place a hand on her belly and grabbed her husband's hand letting him help her up out of the rocking chair “Mr. Archeron”.  

Elain smiled as they headed into the kitchen,watching her beautiful family…she felt her eyes glaze over for a second. Her children were going to be powerful..yes…maybe even more powerful than the highlord's themselves.  

She shook her head, snapping herself out of it. She felt azriel watching her and she mouthed the word “Later”.

They would deal with it later, whatever comes their way.  

#elain archeron #elain and azriel #eriel #azriel shadowsinger #elain acotar

[yanny-77]

A Tragedy of Fawns & Fate

Chapter 26 - The High Lord of Autumn

In the first chapter of Part II, our heroes deal with the fallout from Beron’s death. There’s one thing on everyone’s mind: Where (and who) is the new High Lord of Autumn?

“Beron is dead.” Rufus’s brandy colored eyes stared into her. “I have not ascended to the throne, as you so blatantly pointed out earlier, and neither has Ren or Neriya. So obviously, finding Lucien and Eris is of the utmost importance.” Rufus smirked at her. “We can’t have a Court without a High Lord.”

Thanks to @iftheshoef1tz @poisonivy206 @korrinamoe and Crysania for their help on this chapter.

#a tragedy of fawns and fate #atofaf #hawthlain #acotar #maasverse #crescent city #tristan flynn #azris #crescentcity #eris vanserra #all the vanserra brothers #the morrigan #lucien vanserra

[sleepingjasminetea]

The Cutest damn love story you ever did hear

@liveandletrain

This is a tradgedy

and this is a comedy

This is the story of the Lioness of the El'Banna clan, Emia-Pama Beir Canna, and The Beauty of the Q'evn clan, Ammas Bar Allyl. 

Ammas, the ever-active Chaos-Touched coppersmith of the Q'evn clan never found a life-partner in his youth, despite his beauty, and had decided that he would simply live his life, encountering people as he went, according to fate.

Emia, the fierce Lioness of the El'Banna, unwed, for she would tolerate no man who thought he could control her, even subtly.

Emia once accompanied her sister to the Q'evn clan's Elder's Village on a routine trade caravan and went with her to pick up a copper kettle that she had ordered the previous route. and she met the smith that forged it. and she, despite all normal preconceptions, fell near-instantly in love with him. His quirky greeting of her and her sister, fawning over them like they were royalty in a distinctive teasing manner. His blunt honesty, his respect, his kindness. (his beauty)

and she kept running into him for all the time that they stayed in that village, and same the next year, until that third year, she requested his hand. Ammas's brother was loth to let his little brother marry out of the clan to the "assassin's clan", and denied their request. Emia, not one to be denied (she earned her Lioness title), invoked one of the ancient Clan Laws and set forth a Marriage Challenge. She and the representative of Ammas's family would fight until yield, and should she win, she would be granted Ammas's hand.

And It was a long and drawn out fight. But Emia won. And swept Ammas away to her clan to be wed.

And that is how Emia-Pama Beir Canna and Ammas Bar Allyl came to be wed.

They only raised one child, Yahya-Rial Bar Ammas, through tragedy and prophecy, and they raised him well. Supporting him through hell and heaven, ever a pillar.

Until Ammas met an early end when the earth shook and buried him beneath the rubble of the home he had built.

But that was not the end of Ammas Bar Allyl on the mortal plane. Stubborn in death as he was in life, he refused, outwitted, and slipped by all of Death's calls to the afterlife, preferring to wreak havoc for his son's enemies from the spirit realm, and provide comfort to those he left behind.

He only moved on when his wife dragged him there by the ear........ (the man was having fun!! How can you blame him??)

#Serif #jas answers #ish. #writeblr

[wanderingnork]

A Wounded Fawn: 9/10

GOD THAT WAS REALLY GOOD

Going slightly nuts about the cinematography, first of all. Colors, lighting, angles, all of it. The movie was shot on 16mm film, and that just makes the film so texturally rich. I’ve seen movies with comparably beautiful color/lighting that, thanks to being so crisp, lacked the lushness this movie possesses. Blood, clothes, costumes, trees, lights—the colors were tangible. The shadows had weight and I never felt like the lights were flattened out or the movie was too dark.

Costuming and effects were a delight. The textures and colors in different outfits really stood out. Even one-off characters had a very distinct sense of style that made them feel rounded, unique, and distinct from each other. And that’s not even starting on the more supernatural costumes and effects, which took it to the next level.

That owl, y’all.

And the Greek mythology references! Not just to the Erinyes—the Furies—but to other female entities and goddesses. The presence of pomegranates gave a nod to Persephone, part-time queen of the underworld. The owl is an intriguing motif because it’s associated with multiple figures: Athena, a maiden goddess patronizing civilization and the arts (and war), and the Keres, goddesses who personified violent death (and sisters to the Furies and the Fates). Snakes, likewise, are associated with multiple figures: Athena again, and also Medusa (created by Athena). Even Artemis makes a loose connection, what with occasionally turning men who mistreat women into deer and letting their own hounds hunt them to their deaths. A wounded fawn, anyone?

The Athena piece there is especially interesting to me because of her connection to the Furies. In one version of the tale of Orestes, Athena acts as the judge of his trial for murder; in his acquittal, she transforms the Furies from goddesses of revenge into goddesses of wisdom and justice. In the context of this movie, I think that is very intriguing.

Now for the one (1) issue I had. That -1 is because I’m well aware that “killer gets off to murdering women” is a Thing. That doesn’t mean I want to watch a scene of him jacking off to thinking about it. Even if it was only his back, it was still immensely distasteful to me.

Literally that’s my one problem. That’s it.

Fair warning, this movie is a fairly surreal one. It shifts gears from being a thriller with supernatural trappings into a fully surreal experience, where metaphors start to become real. Dialogue changes from something extremely realistic and natural to what you’d hear in the script of, say, a translation of a Greek tragedy.

Because that’s the core of this movie: a Greek myth brought forward into our time and retold in a way familiar to us. The passions, failings, cruelties, and heroisms of those myths are still with us. According to this movie, the goddesses who ruled over those things are still with us, too.

#nork rants #the horror tag #a wounded fawn

[acotarlibrary]

Title: A Tragedy of Fawns and Fate

Author: @yanny-77

Rating: Not Rated

Main Pairing: Elain Archeron/Lord Hawthorne [Background Azriel/Eris Vanserra, other pairings]

Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Slow Burn, Mating Bond, ACU (Azris Cinematic Universe), Broken Mating Bond, Rejected Mating Bond, Rare Pairings, Family Drama, Family Feels, Secret Identity, Romance, Eventual Romance, Sex, Smut, Weird Plot Shit, Plot Twists, plot heavy, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Unexpected villains, Gay Sex

Summary: Elain loves Flowers. Lord Hawthorne has the best garden in FiRo. Could this be love at first sight?

At its heart, this is a story of a fae lord, his son, and the female who turned their lives upside down. Join Lord Hawthorne and his son Tristan Flynn as they navigate the post-Asteri world and cross the Northern Rift into Prythian. There will be secret identities, unexpected villains, romance, epic battles, drama, broken bonds, and so much more.

Follow me on tumblr

Word Count: 30,501

Status: In Progress

#acotarlibrary #crackships #word count: 20k-50k #in progress #alternate universe #genre: slow burn #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: major character death #rating: not rated #genre: crossover

[poisonivy206]

Looking for a Maasverse fic that will blow your mind?

Well then, look no further.

A Tragedy of Fawns and Fate by Yanny77 has got me in a chokehold and I can’t stop thinking about it or talking about it or crying about it (just you wait).

If you’re anything like me and the end of CC2 has left you hungry and deathly curious about what SJM is planning with the crossover (BUT ALSO, if you’re like me and cannot stop thinking about Autumn Court males and the fire in their veins), then is is exactly what you need. 

Yanny is the kind of writer that will have you lusting one moment, laughing the next, only to rip your heart out by the end, and it’s what makes ATOFAF so damn gripping. Throw in an unexpected pairing (that actually makes so much sense?), and you’ve got a winner. 

But enough of me rambling, I leave you with the summary, some hard facts, and the expectation that you will be just as in love with it as I am.

A Tragedy Of Fawns and Fate

Elain loves Flowers. Lord Hawthorne has the best garden in FiRo. Could this be love at first sight?

At its heart, this is a story of a fae lord, his son, and the female who turned their lives upside down. Join Lord Hawthorne and his son Tristan Flynn as they navigate the post-Asteri world and cross the Northern Rift into Prythian. There will be secret identities, unexpected villains, romance, epic battles, drama, broken bonds, and so much more.

main pairings: Azriel/Eris, Lucien/OC, Tristan Flynn/OC, Lord Hawthorne/Elain

chapters published: 3

expected word count: 300K+

#sjm #sjm ships #sjm fanfic #sjm crossover #sjmaas #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar crossover #crescent city #crescent city fanfic #maasverse #azris #azriel #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #tristan flynn #elain archeron

[misselko]

BEAUTIFUL MIND

Chapter VII: Red Roses

Catch up here: Part 6, Part 8

Warnings: Suggestive content, sex, a little bit BDSM, loss of virginity

It comes as no surprise that red roses depict romantic love and passionate feelings towards someone, while a thornless red rose means love at first sight.

(While busting a knife sounds like a simple action, it melts around 1500⁰F (815⁰C). That requires lots of energy and concentration.)

Tiny specks of dust seemed to dance in the shaft of afternoon sunlight that slanted through the window. The afternoon sun bathes the room in its warm light when you wake up and find Hubert is no longer beside you.

You don’t know when you two manage to pass out, tired and blissfully asleep from all your pleasant late-night till dawn activities. The sheer curtains are swaying, back and forth, thanks to the cool breeze that sweeps through the windows. White fluffy clouds drift across the clear blue sky. It’s hard to imagine a storm was brewing last night with warm weather and cheerful birds singing outside.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body. You can still feel his hips thrusting into your own. You can still feel his lips against the hollow of your neck, against your ear, whispering your name with such affection, such love.

It is unfair of Hubert to be so tender beneath his unsettling exterior. He could say the darkest things with the sharpest of tongues, but in the same breath, wrap his fingers tightly around you and press a thousand kisses into your hair, reminding you exactly how much he truly cares for you.

The lives you lead are arduous and cold, and should have made for two frozen hearts. Yet you found yourself bathed in soft moonlight on a dark, stormy night enveloped in his embrace.

What a twist of fate. You gave yourself to Hubert last night. You swore you would never forgive nor let him in, but you did. You surrendered. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You have been fighting since your childhood since the tragedy. Yet Hubert managed to find his way into your heart. It was an irony. Yet you wouldn't have it another way. He has taught you a lot about self acceptance and forgiveness. 

What would Father and Mother would think if they knew about your feelings toward Hubert? To reciprocate his feelings in earnest, to ask him to claim you. As if trying to cease the endless thoughts you shake your head and huff a small sigh. You have decided to not let the past and hatred conquer your life. Not anymore.

A mouthwatering aroma of food wafting through the air. Ah. There is a hearty soup, apples, and a jug of water on Hubert’s desk along with a note beside it. He even had your nightgown folded neatly on his chair for you to notice. You gently move his blanket draped around your chest and swing your trembling legs over the edge. Your legs ache as you sit up, slowly—careful not to upset your sore body.

Even rubbing your sore legs doesn’t do much to ease the pain and cramping. You try to rise and grab the note but your legs keep shaking and decide to give up beneath you right after you manage to take a hold of it. Even a simple thing like standing is strenuous now. Your legs are sore and you fumble down on the floor like a newborn fawn—along with the small note.

“I have to participate in today’s training. Be sure to get plenty of rest and eat properly.”

How thoughtful of Hubert. His sinister looks sure belies his kind heart.

Maybe skipping training and getting a fitful rest for the whole day would be the best option. You are about to stand up and pick your clothes when you notice a strange wall gap behind Hubert’s study desk. There are some well hidden books underneath his desk, tucked neatly behind the small carved secret space behind the shelves. It is well handmade.

A blade springs and pricks your finger when you are trying to reach for the books. Switchblade? How typical of Hubert. He put a trap in it. Maybe you have triggered the lever involuntarily when you try to wriggle your fingers inside the narrow space. Small droplets of blood are scattered on his rug and floor now. Hopefully Hubert won’t make a fuss of this.

Curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to concentrate to summon forth a small flame on your fingertips. Before you realize you have disarmed his trap and melt the knife away like butter—making blood drip from your nose, adding more crimson stain on his rug. Uh oh. That was quite exhausting.

Hubert will definitely make a big fuss out of this. There will be no end to his ramblings.

Thank Goddess the needle is clean from any kind of toxins. Hubert might have installed the trap recently—judging from the rust-free blade and clean cut on your finger. You are resolved to take a glance at the books after putting on your nightgown and fixing yourself with bandages from his first aid kit.

What makes these books so damn precious that Hubert is willing to go that far? Maybe they’ll help you to understand him better.

It wouldn’t hurt to read them along with this warm, delicious meal.

All of the books look well used and read thoroughly. You almost mistaken them for.... Sylvain’s had you not see lots of small personal notes and underlines in it. Neat, elegant, and sharp handwritings. There’s no mistaking it. They are Hubert’s.

Pages by pages. Book by book. Your face turns hotter and hotter than before when you make a short work of them and slam the last book out of sheer embarrassment. To think that Hubert had immersed himself in such obscene books!!

Suddenly a bookmark fell from it.

A handmade bookmark made from pressed red roses. This bookmark... wasn’t it made from a rose bouquet you gave him in your Academy Days? And yes, just like your suspicion, other books have several bookmarks in them as well. You can recognize them by their peculiar ribbons. Cosmos, daisy, carnation, daffodil, forget-me-not, lavenders. You could still remember it like it was yesterday.

Professor had asked you to help them tend the Greenhouse years ago. A nice change of routines you enjoyed so much. How lovely it was to spend your time outside of your quarters along with beautiful flowers. Sometimes Dedue helped you to carry the heavy fertilizer bags and wheel carts. It’s sad to think that things will most likely turn into the worst when you meet again on the battlefield. It is something to be expected when you have different beliefs and convictions.

It was fun to watch small seeds you raise with love turn into beautiful flowers that you gave to everyone in Black Eagles each moon. Everyone accepted those flower bouquets with smiles and gratitude, except Hubert.

The last red roses bouquet.

“I can not tolerate your pointless, preposterous behavior further. What are you hoping to achieve from giving roses to everyone in the Black Eagles every moon? You should cease your futile attempt to curry favor with everyone. Such useless, thornless roses will do nothi—”

His words are sharper than the roses’ thorns—but it stopped abruptly when he took notice of your patched fingers. You are almost sure you caught a flash of guilt in his eyes.

“It would be my utmost concern to not let anyone get hurt, lest from these roses thorns or any flowers that I had given to everyone. As I believe you are already aware, Seteth's younger sister, Flayn, has gone missing. I am merely hoping to make everyone feel a bit better for our upcoming mission with these red roses—our house color—including you, Hubert.”

Hubert flinched and only narrowed his eyes at your admission. His lips set out in a grim line as he scrutinized the roses cautiously. “Feel free to burn them if you are inclined to do so. You should be ashamed of your narrow-mindedness. They are safe, Vestra. Have a nice day.”

That’s your last words before you stomped out and dashed to your quarters—ignoring his glaring daggers.

To think that Hubert preserved and pressed every one of them into bookmarks! But the red roses bookmark is slightly different. He put your name in the corner of it. It’s as if he has treasured the red roses the most despite his venomous words back then.

---

A little rest really does wonder for you. You know everyone must have finished today’s training but you miss Black Eagles Strike Force so much—and Hubert. After cleaning yourself and changing your clothes, you are coming to visit the training ground. Your legs are shaky and unsteady. You have to put a hold on some things numerous times to keep yourself from tumbling down.

When you look back on the horizon, the sun is already setting. From bright orange to crimson, the clouds are painted in ever-changing colors as the sun sets.

Ever so vigilant, Hubert takes notice of your presence and smiles solemnly. “Ah, you are awake. How are you feeling, (Y/N)?”

Petra gasps when she watches your trembling form and darts like lightning to check on you. “Your steps are making me remembering of a newborn fawn. I am seeing many bruises and bite marks as well, (Y/N). Is it giving you much pain? Who is someone giving this to you?”

You swear you can hear Hubert’s breath hitch at her words, his shoulders stiffen. Even Miss Edelgard is throwing him a look. Everyone really has frightening, keen eyes—such fitting qualities for the Black Eagles Striking Force.

“Did I miss something~?” Dorothea chirps in merriment and stalks you. Her lips curves into a terrifying fiendish grin. Enough to send shivers down your spine. It is reassuring to have Hubert stand closer to you in a second and cover you with his cape protectively, as if trying to shield you from everyone’s curious gaze. When he feels your legs stagger he places a gentle, yet firm hand on your shoulder to steady you against his chest.

“Thank you Huey. Actually I want to ask you,” you pause and produce something from your satchel bag. His face turns white when he sees your bandaged finger and takes a glimpse of the oh-so familiar books. “I found these books when you left. They are kind of... graphics. And well used. You seem to have keen interest in these two the most. “ABCDs of Love” and “Passionate Life”. You had them bookmarked on page 178 and 236. Say, these bookmarks, are they made from....”

Hubert shrieks and yanks the books from your hands like they are some kind of blasphemy. He picks the bookmarks and tuck them delicately into his breast pocket, then burn the books away with dark flames—leaving no remains behind. He put his gloved hand on your lips to shush you. His glare doesn’t bode well. You can tell clearly that he will save this argument for later.

“Why you—!!"

“So Hubert is into that kind of thing....”

“Such an eye opener. Words fail me to show my astonishment as well, Bernie.” Dorothea winks her eye to Bernadetta and chimes “Guess Hubert is just a normal man, afterall. He has such a sweet spot for (Y/N). Don’t we all?”

Petra nods at the songstress and puts one hand on her chin—lost in her thoughts. “Many surprises to be watch this afternoon. I am having new understanding about Hubert.”

“Color me surprised. You have some distinct preference for books, Hubert.”

“Congratulations, Hubert.” Professor and Linhardt speak with their usual indifferent tone. But you can see amusement sparkles in their eyes.

“Why congratulations? Has something good happen to him?” 

Each word sends a deeper shade of color that warms Hubert’s cheeks. His usual pale face is getting redder and redder by the minute. He looks like he is on the verge of melting anytime—but Caspar’s innocent question is a striking final blow for him. Hubert pinches his nose bridge with his shaking, gloved hand.

“NOOOOOO!!! What have you done to (Y/N), Hubert!?” Ferdinand barks angrily, his hand grabs Hubert by his collar. Both Ferdinand and Hubert’s faces are crimson now—albeit for different reasons. You are about to mediate between them but your legs have their own mind—trembling so hard that you topple. It’s almost a miracle how Hubert and Ferdinand manage to catch you by your forearms—your face a feet away from the ground.

“Are you okay? You ought to rest more.” There is a stark difference between Hubert’s gentle pulls on your shoulder and the way he pushes Ferdinand’s hand away from you.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips at Hubert and Ferdinand’s anxious looks.

“Thank you for your concern, Fernie. No need to worry. Sour look doesn’t match you well.” You giggle as you put your hands on his cheeks to form a smile on Ferdinand’s mouth and turn to Hubert. There are deep creases between his brows.

“I’m fine. It’s just.... That was my first time, afterall. I am sorry for my inadequate experience, Huey.”

Hubert blanches at your words.

You can hear collective gasps and murmurs from everyone around you, until Caspar breaks the long pause of silence with his innocent question, “I never knew that you two are in a relationship. For real? What do you mean by your first time (Y/N)?”

“Everyone knows. Everyone knows. Well, except you, Caspar."

“What did Hubert do to her? Her legs seem hurt. Did Hubert harm her in a training sessi—” How astounding to see Linhardt covers Caspar’s mouth in a flash. You always thought that an indolent healer lacks strength but he proves otherwise with how easy it is for him to drag Caspar and Dorothea away dutifully.

“AAAAAAARGHHHH! SHAME ON YOU HUBERT!!"

You swear you are almost go deaf from Ferdinand’s loud shrieks. He is about to grab Hubert's arm when a large warp sigil suddenly appears beneath you, Ferdinand, and Hubert. With a flick of Hubert's finger the mark glows with blinding purple light and sends you three away from the training ground.

---

The hallway is deathly silent at this hour but the tension is a palpable living thing in the air. So thick that you could cut it with a knife. The mood is so dull despite birds chirping such wonderful melodies outside. Sunlight radiates through the windows on the second floor of the dormitory. It should be warm and comfortable. It should be. But in fact, it is not—not when there are two males glaring at each other.

What would you give to be able to go back to your own quarters for some semblance of peace, but you can't now–Ferdinand snarls indignantly at Hubert, his body trembles furiously.

"Curse you and your evil heart! There is so much other things to destroy but you chose to corrupt HER. My precious little sister! You have stolen her chastity, her pureness!!”

Ferdinand's eyes are set ablaze, similar to his flaming hair—erm, almost looks like mane when he is enraged like this.

Ferdinand holds your arms with tearful eyes, calling your name. “You should never let him deceive you. Hubert is a devil incarnate. A venomous snake." He points his finger at Hubert with furious eyes–then winces when he glances upon purple bruises on your neck, shoulders, and chest.

“(Y/N) is such a delicate creature, she is not as resilient as us men, and she is so soft and weak. You are a rough man Hubert! How unbecoming for you to force yourself upon poor innocent (Y/N)! Do you have no dignity as a noble?"

"Fernie, Hubert always treat me with utmost care. He never insists on doing something against my own will."

“You have heard her. She said yes, she begged me. I could not leave her hanging, Ferdinand.” Hubert smirks and glares condescendingly at Ferdinand.

“Hubert!”

“I am merely telling him the truth.”

You can only try to calm Ferdinand, who is wailing and grovelling on the ground with grief and anger now. Hubert can be mean when he wants to. He really doesn’t mince his words.

“My innocent little sister (Y/N), corrupted by this evil spider—luring her into his web to poison her.”

It’s heartwarming to have someone that cares deeply for your well-being. Ferdinand is like an overprotective big brother. “Fernie… Hubert did nothing bad to me. I am perfectly fine. Just felt tired and lethargic."

You help Ferdinand to rise and give him a reassuring hug, rubbing his back gently–that earns you a scoff from Hubert. Is he jealous of such a simple affectionate, platonic gesture? You can only facepalm when they are back at it again–another glaring contest.

Suddenly Ferdinand gasps and pushes you away softly, then ceases his hostility towards Hubert.

It's impossible to comprehend what's going on inside Ferdinand's mind. He only freezes and stares blankly at Hubert. His face turns from white to blue then green to red just within a few minutes now. Ferdinand is truly a man of thousands emotion.

Ferdinand realizes that it is impossible to tell you that his face is white with terror from horrid imaginations of million things that Hubert might had done to his beloved little (Y/N) last night. A momentary look of discomfort crosses his face when he thinks of the worst consequence–what if Hubert impregnates you and they become "family"?

Goddess Sothis, please forgive him. Even the mere thought of seeing a mini Hubert makes his stomach churning. How vexing! How ignoble of Hubert to ignore the grave consequence of his actions. Ferdinand clenches his fists and approaches Hubert with a grave look in his eyes. You're worried he is about to punch Hubert, but fortunately he is not.

"Hubert, may we have a word? I believe we have something important to discuss."

Hubert only raises his brow and nods solemnly at Ferdinand. He may not show it but you can feel his uneasiness somehow. They stride to the end of the hallway, a safe distance from you to talk privately.

You decide to feast your eyes upon the magnificent setting sun through the colored glass to give them their much needed time.

---

“Hubert, did you use protection?”

Ferdinand's sudden question really catches me off guard. Cold sweat is beading at my temple. Suddenly I find it is nigh impossible to retain my usual stoic, composed expression.

How could I have made such a grave error?

My eyes flickering around the hallway, walls, or doors. Anything but Ferdinand's bitter eyes. He has a point. Having a child in the middle of a war is a horrible idea. How could such an important matter elude my mind? Upcoming battles will be more taxing and we have to stay vigilant. A baby would hinder me from helping Lady Edelgard to achieve her grand ambitions.

"How inappropriate! You must not make a dishonest woman of her, Hubert."

I can only cross my arms over my chest, my mind is reeling at Ferdinand's harsh rebuke. Tinge of pain runs through my arms from my own violent squeeze, lest I fall apart but I do not bother to give a damn about it–not when I have put (Y/N) in such disadvantage.

My eyes dart to her tiny form, busy in her own thoughts on the other side of the hallway. (Y/N) notices my stare and gives me a pleasant smile, then going back to her own world. Alas. (Y/N) always seems to know when I've been looking out for her. She must have eyes in the back of her head. Yet, even simple things like that always make my heart filled with undescribable warmth.

"As much as I hate to admit this, I can tell that (Y/N) really loves you. If something were to happen to her–" Ferdinand's mouth pinched shut as though holding back what he really wanted to say. The tensing of his jaw betrays his deep frustration when his eyes narrow at me with such hostility. "I would beat you senseless if something bad happens to her, Hubert. You have to right this ignoble mistake of yours."

Ferdinand is right. What a mistake I have done. I am utterly ashamed of my lack of judgment.

I can still remember how she fainted and dyed my clothes and bed crimson with her nosebleed and blood cough. (Y/N) is so frail. She might not survive a childbirth. Our first time making love has made her so weak and left her legs wobbly now. I was too harsh on her last night. Childbirth may end her life–and I could not afford it. I could not afford to lose her. To lose the light of my life by my grave mistakes. If something were to happen to her, it would break my heart devastatingly.

It is not like I have never entertained the idea of a family of my own. To have (Y/N) by my side…. It would bring me great delight for sure. The likelihood of it depends on several factors and all to be considered in peacetime.

Bringing the war to close will lead to many other matters that need to be addressed as well. It could be some more time before I could rejoice at the possibilities–and some more time before children are even a consideration.

Would I, no–could I be a decent father? So many have called me heartless, would I be that way to my own child? 

I can not say if I will be a good father or not. I certainly did not have a suitable role model for it. But, if the opportunity presented itself, I would not be opposed to fatherhood. Someday perhaps.

My eyes squint when I see faint blood stains on her bandaged finger–I need to admonish her later from breaking my trap forcefully and hurting herself. Judging from her pale face and nervous way of trying to hide it from my sight, she must have used her magic to do it.

Dusk is approaching but I can make it if I make haste of this. There are still some hours before dinnertime.

"Ferdinand." I run my fingers through my hair with shaking hands, dreading this nightmarish idea. But it has to be done. “I have things to discuss with Manuela. Please help (Y/N) to walk back to her quarters. Tell her that I will see her later."

"What are you going to do?! I am not your—"

And that’s how I take my leave and warps away, ignoring Ferdinand’s yells and shouts deliberately.

---

"How are you feeling, (Y/N)? Hubert has many things to talk about with Manuela and will meet you later. Would you like to get more rest in your quarters?" Ferdinand pauses then rubs the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart to the purplish bite mark on your neck. He is about to open his mouth but clamps it down in a flash, struggling to speak through the lump in his throat. "Or would you prefer infirmary instead? I could walk you there if you'd like."

"My quarters, then. I need my beauty sleep."

Ferdinand laughs at your banter but his expression strains when he observes your pallid face.

"(Y/N)."

"Yes?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"About what?"

"Hubert." Ferdinand peers at your shoulder as if implying his question, then pauses to unclasp his cape and drapes it over your shoulder. Maybe he did that to cover the bite marks from passersby.

Your eyes widen at Ferdinand's kind gesture but you nod and ease your way beside him. "Hubert is kind and caring. He might be a bit rough but he is a good man. Please don't be too harsh on him, Fernie."

He only frowns but chooses to remain silent at your words. Your head is pounding and makes you spin a bit when you are about to walk downstairs. You feel a bit embarrassed to have put your hands on the wall to steady yourself.

"... May I?" Ah. Ferdinand's hand. Deep concern etched on his face. Always so kind and caring.

"I'm sorry for bothering you, Fernie. That's really kind of you."

Ferdinand scoops you on his arms effortlessly and carries you back to your quarters. You murmur a quiet thank you and giggle when he swathes his cape to cover your legs.

"I saw you smiling in a way I’ve never seen before and I'm glad for you and Hubert. I really am," Ferdinand pauses and helps you to unlock your quarters door. He helps you to lie down on your bed and tucks the blanket high under your chin. "But Hubert should take into account about your delicate nature. I thought Hubert would be more gentle and think things through. I thought YOU would think a little bit harder too."

"Fernie…."

Ferdinand sits on the edge of your bed then looks to the sky outside your window. "I don’t have the right to steal happiness from the two of you. Yes, I was mean to him but I love you like my little sister and wish to not see you in pain, to see you come to no harm. I will fall to pieces if something dreadful were to happen to you."

Warmth swells in your chest from Ferdinand's kindness. Your lips turn into a soft smile as Ferdinand pats your head lovingly.

"I really appreciate all your thoughtfulness and concern for me and Hubert, Fernie. Thank you." Ferdinand is a bit surprised when you give him a hug, but he reciprocates it nonetheless. 

"I'd be more than willing to teach Hubert a lesson or two for my special sister. You know you can always count on me, Ferdinand von Aegir!!"

He only pouts when you belly laugh at his remarks. Both Ferdinand and Hubert really do make you feel safe and comfortable.

---

“I thought it would be utterly bitter. But it is not. Thank you for adding so much honey into it, Huey.” You take another sip and sigh at the mellow sweetness, well-rounded flavor of gentle spice and good honey. “This must cost you a lot.”

Honey is apparently a relatively expensive commodity, a specific trade good that is quite hard to get. You can’t help but wince at this fact.

The mugwort tea is amber colored with lots of fine sediment suspended in it. The tiny particles hang almost motionless in the tea as you swirl it around your cup. They make the tea look thick and rich. It is supposed to be bitter with a distinct and strong herbal odor, yet Hubert manages to brew it to this degree of perfection. Actually it’s mellow with some pleasing delicate high notes of flowers and spice. He sure has magical hands.

Hubert only coughs nervously and looks away to watch the cloudless night sky. Humid spring day seems to melt into an even more humid spring night with air so thick it presses upon your skin.

"You should not bust my trap and melt the knife like that. Such strenuous action would aggravate your exhaustion." Hubert leans and unwraps the bandage on your finger and sighs with relief when he sees the wound is tightly shut, thanks to the vulnerary he gave you earlier. "And," Hubert rises and stands tall, glowering down on you with such tenacity. "I would appreciate it if you keep our first time only between us. It is NOT something to be said in front of others."

Hubert turns his back on you and reaches around his chest to unclasp his cape and unlatch his pauldrons that fall solid on the rug with a soft thump. His fingers deftly tidy up the offending articles and about to put them on your desk but stop in their tracks when you apologize. The line of his mouth tightened a fraction more but you can see his eyes soften a bit from his reflection upon your window.

“About the bookmark.... I never thought that you would treasure all of my flowers all this time.”

His shoulder stiffens.

“It would be a waste to throw them away. You put so much time into taking care of them.”

Ah. So he knew. As expected from Hubert. It’s a wonder to know that he even paid attention to someone who rarely showed up in classes back in the Academy Days.

“But why do you only write my name on the red roses bookmark? You were so keen to burn them."

“I changed my mind."

Hubert would never divulge the truth about the red roses; how your ire stirs something inside his chest. Something akin to curiosity and amusement. It’s uncommon to find someone who dares to stand against him, the shadow of the Adrestian Emperor. A red rose that marked the beginning of his interest towards you. Personal interest.

For several minutes you sit in silence, finally you ask “A penny for your thoughts, Huey.”

“Nothing. Just whimsical thoughts.”

Always so mysterious. But his fond smile makes you want to tease him. There is something about Hubert that always makes you want to test his patience and composure—getting under his skin. Maybe you really do have a knack for tormenting the stern man to enjoy his reactions. It's exciting to see him getting all flustered and annoyed.

“Ah. Actually page 159-165 looks interesting. And page 254. But you have burned the books. What a shame, Huey. To think that the notorious Count Vestra is willing to go to the Abyss Library to dabble with sexual book... I almost thought you were Sylvain’s accomplice.”

Hubert feels a bit offended to have you associated him with that sleaze womanizer. He scowls at your words but chooses to remain silent–even when you stalk and hug him from behind, burying your face in his back as you murmur almost inaudibly. “To be honest, I feel a bit relieved to know that you were nervous as well about this, just like me. Even you, a von Vestra, can be clueless about things like this as well. Yet, you are learning about it thoroughly, doing your best to make me happy.”

You can feel his heart flutters beneath your clasped hands. No sound can be heard beside the soft rustles of Hubert’s clothes when he intertwines his gloved hands with yours.

“I am deeply touched, Huey. Thank you. You are a fast learner.”

After a long pause, he turns and sits you on your bed gently then slumps to seat himself on the floor, his hands on your arms.

“You are truly something, woman....”

It’s impossible to stifle your giggle when you see Hubert’s exasperated, tired face. He only hums when your fingers trace along his sharp cheekbones and ruffles his raven hair affectionately. Another new side of Hubert that he never lets out in front of anyone—perhaps save from Miss Edelgard.

“You can be cute sometimes, Count Vestra.”

“Only for you.”

He lets you hug his face and melt further into your warm embrace. There’s a beat of silence but you see faint pink dust is growing on Hubert’s cheeks. No, it certainly does not have anything to do with the fact that he could feel your breasts, your nipples against him. If he could feel it this well, then it means that you aren’t wearing anything underneath the silk of your robe.

“Hubert.”

“Hm?”

“Last night was incredible. I don't know how to describe it but it felt a bit strange… uhm…. In a good, no–amazing way. Thank you.”

Hubert’s mouth forms an ‘O’ then turns into a tender, genuine smile. Your heart skips a beat when he watches over you affectionately.

“Your straightforwardness catches me off guard all the time. Always so distracting.” He chuckles before tearing the fabric away, exposing your body to the humid air.

“Hubert!!”

“You have been pushing over my limit today. Now, for your punishment....”

You swear you could feel his smirk before he bites and sucks on your nipple. The bed barely shifts when he leans and cages you beneath him.

“No need to worry (Y/N). I have memorized them. Why don't we rehearse the whole book, dear? I shall take care of you.”

This will be another long night.

---

Hubert looks innocent when he sleeps, like a child when he dreams, not at all like the deadly dark mage, the trained killer that you have seen on the battlefield. You lie awake, watching his chest rise and fall, as the starlight illuminates your quarters through the open window.

He fell asleep so peacefully after you made love for only-Sothis-knows how many times. After you called out his name as if it was both a blessing and a curse. As if it was a prayer to the Goddess herself. Unlike his threatening, cold, and sinister demeanor, Hubert is really loving–in private. Draping his arms over your naked body, he keeps you warm under your sheets.

Your whole body is screaming in painful cacophony, something to be expected after everything Hubert has done to you last night. You barely can feel your back, hips, butt, and legs now.

You can only wince when you peek over Hubert's faint fingerprints on your hips. Blinding white and stars filled your vision when Hubert pushed your hips hard into your shoulders, holding your hands down with his other hand with a vice-like grip. Guttural moans and groans from his lips and lewd squelch reverberated through your quarters as he rammed against you–railing you thoroughly last night.

There is a huge difference between Hubert's merciless pounds and his gentle kisses. Like heaven and hell. He smiled when you let out a short huff of breath and pulled back, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes. The way Hubert sings your name in such devotion–worshipping every inch of your body without faltering–always ignites sparks in your core.

Much to your chagrin, Hubert is really a man of his words. He didn't go easy on his promise to punish you thoroughly. He did. He really did. Dull pain is thrumming through the red marks of his hands that he had engraved on your butt. This is the true evidence of his words.

Hubert even made you count every spanking on his behest–relishing every whimpers and moans from your lips. That Vestra devil has the audacity to ogle you intently when you creamed on his lap, then made you have a taste of yourself with his finger–whispering "You are doing so well, love," huskily, warm lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Even the mere brief reminisce of your last night's activities make you flush a bright red profusely now. Hubert really is the worst when it comes to teasing you. Someday, perhaps someday, you'll make him taste his own medicine. You have to settle this matter with that evil man and make this even.

But not now. You are far too comfortable snuggled in Hubert's embrace to dare to reach for your clothes to save you from further embarrassment. His slow breathing was everything that could be heard in your quarters. You kiss Hubert's chest, your lips lingering on his skin over his heart as he hums softly. 

"Awake already? How are you feeling, (Y/N)? 

"Sore, thanks to a particular someone. But… maybe I wouldn't have it the other way. Maybe." You turn to look up at Hubert innocently.

He only chuckles and rubs his forehead on yours at your answer. "Feisty as ever. I shall prepare breakfast for us. What would you like to eat?"

"I think we slept the whole day, Huey. It's evening already."

"Wha–?!"

Harsh knocks and loud growl on the other side of your door sends you and Hubert jolting awake cautiously—it is almost comical that you two brandish your weapons at the same time—yours a dagger beneath your pillow, blazing black flames at Hubert’s hand.

“Damn you, Hubert. I am 100% sure that you must be inside with her. Not only have you defiled my little (Y/N), you are locking her in her own quarters all day long now!”

There’s a brief pause before you could hear another squabble and loud groans. You could barely hear soft knocks on your door–it's barely audible with Ferdinand's endless wailing. He really got it bad.

Sorry, Fernie….

“Hubert, we have weekly meetings to attend. Open the door. No. On second thought, do not open the door. Get dressed and grab something to eat, then meet us at the evening meeting.”

Gone is the flickering fire on Hubert's hand. He freezes with shock when he hears Miss Edelgard's command. The beams of the moon sneaking in between your windows only accentuate his pale face further. A heavy silence fell upon the room until both of you could hear no more Ferdinand and Miss Edelgard’s bickering and footsteps.

“I have failed Lady Edelgard terribly. I have overslept and missed almost all of today’s meetings, save the last one.” Hubert's ashen expression betrays nothing. Utter despair.

“We can attend the next meeting, Huey.”

He scans your whole form from head to toe, observing every bruise and bite marks littering your body. “This would cause another commotion. And Ferdinand might beat me the first time he lay his eyes on us.”

He pulls you into his lap and hugs you from behind. You can feel Hubert's devilish smirk when he cups your chin and plants another hickey on your neck–earning a mewl from you; his other hand seizes the small dagger on your palm and puts it on your desk. “We are really cut from the same cloth, you and I. I should ask you to remove all of your weapons as well next time, (Y/N).”

An impish grin tugs on your lips at his words. You try to slip away from Hubert to put on some clothes; only to fail miserably with harsh thud—planting your whole face to the floor. A small whimper escapes from your throat. It hurts. Everything hurts now. 

“Please forgive me, Huey. I don’t think I could partake in any activities this week. My whole body is killing me. I can’t even feel my lower body.”

“Ferdinand will kill me now for sure,” he sighs as he helps you to sit and carry you back to your bed. “I will make sure to ask Manuela for some healing salves, ointments, and herbs. She gawked at me incredulously last evening, but I am sure she will faint from the shock tonight when I ask her for more… herbs and medicines."

And that’s why you have to spend the rest of your days in your quarters that week—thanks to Hubert and those cursed books.

---

Thankfully Black Eagles Strike Force takes really great care of you on that week (especially Ferdinand and Miss Edelgard). Everyone often drops by, even Bernadetta–she slipped cute crochet dolls of you and Hubert, whispered that she is wishing you a speedy recovery. But the most memorable one was Professor Manuela.

That brave woman who came to your quarters was all over Hubert for being so rough and merciless to you. She counts over 100 hickeys, 38 bite marks, not to mention the countless bruises from sex.

"You have thrashed this delicate flower within an inch of her life! I know you are both young and curious–trying to make up for your lost time, but you need to pace yourself, Hubert. I know (Y/N) is gorgeous but you are going to kill her with your love marks by the end of the moon this way," she admonished Hubert and dabbed cold salves on your inner thighs. A bit sticky but it feels soothing. Healing salves, it seems. Spasms of vexation cross her face when she gave you an Elixir and poked Hubert's chest with her finger indignantly. "To think that even a dark, ominous male like you has a better love life than me!! I'm going to be single for the rest of my life at this rate."

Your stomach hurts from laughter when Professor Manuela grumbled about being green with envy and how she has no luck in romance. That bites the big one for her. But her gloomy countenance changed when she watched your bright smile. The songtress was enchanted and offered to come to your side if something changed your mind about Hubert—which made Hubert glare murderously at her.

Special Note:

What's "ABCDs of Love", one of Hubert's personal "educational" favorite book?

In Japan in the 1980's, the term A, B, C, D was often used as a euphemistic metaphor for the degree of sexual intimacy achieved in intimate encounters or relationships between lovers.

Description of each letter representation is as follows:

A: Any form of mouth to mouth kissing, especially "French" kissing.

B: Feeling or groping of breasts or genitalia, either through clothing or directly skin to skin.

C: Oral stimulation or "fingering" of genitalia.

D: Penetrative intercourse.

And yes. Hubert is a fast learner indeed ;)

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #fe3h fanfic #hubert von vestra #fe3h fluff #fe3h x reader #fire emblem x reader #hubert fire emblem #hubert x reader #hubert smut #hubert fluff #fe hubert

[allxthingsxglxtter]

Look who just woke up- is that DOUGLAS BOOTH? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s TEDROS OF CAMELOT from SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL. I heard he is 23 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a EXCALIBUR GLOWING IN HIS HANDS, NEEDING TO MAKE HIS FAMILY PROUD, ABANDONED BY HIS TRUE LOVE impression. They’re known to be quite SWEET, but have a tendency to be IMPULSIVE on their bad days

Gender/Pronouns

He/Him

How long have they been in Sydney?

Tedros has been in Sydney for about two years.  

Job

He’s a waiter at Whiskey Chef in King’s Cross

Which suburb do they live in?

He lives alone in Haymarket. 

Memories of their real life :

Tedros was born the one and only child of King Arthur and his beloved Guinevere.  He has fond memories of his family in childhood, looking up to both of his parents as heroes who had gotten their happy endings, and now were taking care of their beloved kingdom.  He was tutored by Merlin himself growing up, very close with the old man.  Tedros was happy, and he didn’t think it’d ever go wrong.  

Then, when he was nine his mother left him and his father to instead be with Lancelot.  Running away in the night without a goodbye, and Tedros saw the effect of a broken heart, as his father fell into despair and died of that broken heart.  Merlin had disappeared not long  after his mother did, leaving him alone to watch his father die in misery.  While he hated his mother for abandoning him, saying she loved him and then disappearing off to her own happy ending, he blamed his father for ever falling for Guinevere.  His father had fallen for Guinevere’s beauty, and not her heart, and because he’d put beauty over goodness that was why his life had ended in tragedy.  He swore not to make the same mistakes his father did, and spent his days before going to the School for Good learning and training so he could be ready when his own story came. 

When his time did come to go to school, he excelled, proving himself to be the best, and most desired Prince among his classmates.  While he thrived on the approval and attention, the girls fawning over him never truly turned his head.  His father’s fate was a constant reminded that none of the shallow princesses who professed their love but did not know him were the right one.  His True Love.  So he just kept training, determined to be perfect in every way so that he would be able to protect her when she came, and maybe their story would be a happy one. 

He was sixteen when Sophie and Agatha arrived at the School for Good and Evil, everything starting to change when they entered the picture.  Agatha wasn’t anything like the other princesses, demanding she’d been sent to the wrong school, and fussing like no one he’d seen before.  And while she obviously barely even liked him when they met, he found her incredibly refreshing.  She’d caught his attention, but also seemed to be trying to get him to pay attention to her Never friend Sophie.  It confused him at first, but then when he got to know Sophie, she proved herself thoughtful, kind and good.  Despite the fact she was in the School for Evil. He found himself starting to fall for her, thinking she saw him for what he was and that maybe, just maybe he’d found his true love.  The schools of course weren’t thrilled with the Ever golden boy dating a Never villain, and demanded a Trial by Tale to prove once and for all Sophie’s goodness and their love.  He had total faith in her, trusting that her heart was true, but in the end he was wrong.  Sophie left him to die, and Agatha was who saved him.   He was angry with himself for being fooled by Sophie, nearly falling into an even worse trap than his father before him.  Ruled by his heart and emotions so easily, and he beat himself up for it.  

Agatha didn’t take any of his attitude though, snarking back at him and calling out his own flawed thinking.  Agatha challenged him in a way no one else had, but she also saw him.  Saw the lost, lonely Prince who just wanted to be loved, and didn’t reject him.  He realized he loved her, and with it came the certain knowledge that she was his True love.  He hadn’t been sure of anything like he was this, and how he could’ve ever thought Sophie might be the one in light of this was horrible to think on.  However, he didn’t really get much time to talk to Agatha about this realization when Sophie reared her ugly head again, this time threatening the school for good and harming the teachers. Sophie had declared war, and despite Agatha’s warnings, Tedros led the other Good students to attack the School for Evil first, falling right into Sophie’s trap.  Good never attacks, only defends, and by attacking they had changed the rules entirely, The Nevers becoming evers and Evers turning evil.  

The fight that followed was enough for Tedros to know he’d made a fatal mistake, everything not as it should be, and when he noticed Sophie and Agatha were both gone he took off after them.  Climbing the School Master’s tower he found Sophie dying and Agatha holding her in tears, the evil Rafal monologuing when Tedros moved to protect Agatha from the villain. He was severely outmatched, and would have died were it not for Sophie and Agatha taking his sword Excalibur and destroying the villain themselves.  And as Sophie died in Agatha’s arms, it was her she gave true loves kiss, bringing her back to life and restoring the balance of good and evil.  It was a happy ending, Tedros walking to talk to his love when a portal opened, giving Agatha and Sophie the opportunity to go back home to their village.  Agatha seemed to say goodbye to Sophie, returning to his side to kiss him.  Then she started to speak.

“Thank you for trying to change.”

And then she left.

Just a soft goodbye, the implication he hadn’t changed despite her changing his entire world, and then leaving without even hesitating.  His last memory is of standing alone, realizing that even his True love did not love him.

What was their fake life like?

TBD

#A slave to his heart's mistakes: Tedros of Camelot #thebridge: intro

[quirklessidiot]

title : sweet dreams [1] pairing :future ceo!naoya zen’in x f!y/n x boss!geto suguru (office-au; non-sorcerers) Genre: angst, smut, tragedy, psychological drama, romance, yandere & dark soulmate-au

Summary: “ People remember their soulmates through dreams, it’s a sweet thing that you’ve heard from people from time to time but you’ve always been plagued by nightmares. ”

Warnings for the chapter; language, sexual themes, mentions of nicotine addiction, smoking, tight spaces (clausterphobia), drug/substance-abuse, blood, rape/non-con, Y/N is a reckless person here (MINORS DNI WITH THE STORY!) Notes: may or may not be inspired by that one prompt i saw at 3 am , the manhwa cheese in the trap, and Naoya thirsts i see in my tl 😳🕶👌 also because i havent seen a geto or naoya series so yeah pretty self-indulgent.

Masterlist || taglist

chapter summery: Fate is often in line with a predetermined destiny, that’s how soulmates works. Meeting them by fate and destiny. Yet what happens when your fateful encounters signaled the beginning of your tragedy?

next

When people talked about the whole idea of soulmates and everything in between it, a few things would always come to mind about how pure, dreamy, and exhilarating it was. After all, it had been a tested and proven system that was fawned over and glorified by many. Experts would marvel at how that was one thing that science couldn’t really explain. I mean, seeing your other half in your dreams wasn't exactly very scientific.

Yet it wasn’t really the case for you.

The whole idea was something you’ve always wanted to suppress or destroy.

It wasn’t always like this, before you were of age, you had looked forward to the whole process of it. People kept saying how beautiful the dreams were to the point where you wished to never wake up.

Yet ever since you were old enough to receive such dreams, it had always been nightmares to the point where you felt like you had to rely on suppressants. It was considered an abnormality for sure     especially since this wasn’t exactly a known problem, even getting ahold of your medication was considered illegal but you didn’t exactly have a choice for it. 

The dreamless nights were an addiction.

Yet that didn’t exactly help a lot today.

Here you were, standing in your small apartment ; hair combed neatly and away from the face with a wrongfully buttoned top and some bland instant cup of coffee in your hand. Your face is puffy from the sleepless nights that despite rubbing ice all over it, it wouldn’t calm down.

“Shit.” You mumbled, “Shit, shit, shit.”

You were supposed to feel alright, you’ve been taking this since you were a sophomore in university. It was too soon for your body to even build up an immunity.  According to the dealer and creator himself, the body developed an immunity from the drug after at least fifteen years of continuous usage, he made sure of that and you hadn’t even raise the dose so it’s impossible, “Calm down, calm down.” You chanted, taking in deep breaths. Maybe Mahito had given you a bad batch? No, you took this a few nights before that and it seemed to work fine and had the normal span as your usual.

You feel your stomach clamp up as you vividly recall your dreams, it had made you sick to the bone.

You take the mug and down the coffee with ease and shakily button your top right this time. Maybe you could call in sick today? You shake your head, you still had to process some of the papers on your desk. HR was hectic today, you let out another string of curses, among all days you had to get ‘sick’, why did it have to be today?

Your phone vibrates on the counter top and you see the words ‘older brother’ across it, taking one long hefty sigh, you muster up the courage to answer the call in your best voice, “Hey.” you greeted, trying to sound bright and robust as if you just hadn’t dreamt of something horrid and only ran on almost three hours of sleep.

“Hey Y/N!” Itadori Jin exclaims on the other line, your only cousin who treated you like his very own sibling was a wonderful man with two beautiful kids and an even more beautiful soulmate who had three older kids from her previous marriage. All in all, they made quite an adorable family dynamic that you loved looking at, they were the picture perfect family of the whole system, “I was just calling in to see if you can make it this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah.” You tried to not sound too strained, not wanting your cousin to tell you to skip the party to rest, “I wouldn’t miss their 16th birthday, strawberry cake would sound good right?”

“You don’t need to bother, you’re travelling on a bus and carrying an overnight bag-”

“I’ll be fine,” you tried to say, “Plus I can’t let them down and uncle too.”

“Well, I don’t want to give you a hard ti-”

“Jin,” You dismissed, cutting him off in dismay, “I’m a big girl. It's not really a big bag nor a big deal for you to pester me.”

“Well,” you could feel his frown on the other line, “If you say so. Father is asking if you’re getting enough sleep, by the way.”

You’re silent for a moment, they weren’t exactly aware of your predicament. Back when you were sixteen, you had only told them that you weren’t part of the norm      at that time, you remembered the looks of piety they sent to you and words of comfort, saying that it was all alright and it was more normal than you thought. 

Yet those dreamless nights soon turned into nightmares and at that moment, you hoped and prayed to whatever god that was out there to stop it. To stop your cruel fate. For whatever or whoever haunted your dreams would only mean pure abomination and you did not want to risk any of that or bring that destructive force into your life.

You were on uncharted territory this whole time, the chances of you being sent to a shrink was high and if the shrink had loose lips, you’d probably be sent to some facility.

“Still no dreams.” You easily lied, “It’s fine.”

“Y/N.” Your cousin’s worried tone fills the line and it’s something you had gotten accustomed to, “It’s alright, it’s a lot more common. Trust me, you might just be a late bloomer. The latest one in-”

“-History is fifty years old.” You cut him off, finishing for him, “I know,Jin. It’s alright, I’m alright. I’m not exactly keen on fate and love anyways.”

“Y/N.”

“Jin.” you retorted, rolling your eyes in annoyance since the conversation played like a broken record. Consolation wasn’t what you needed, you didn’t want to meet your fated pair and you might as well do whatever you can to get away with it, fate be damned.

“Look, fine. I won’t force it. It’s your life anyways but please, if something happens about the whole thing, update me okay?”

“You’ll be the first to know.” 

Ending the call, you’re once again greeted by the silence of your small and cold home. It was time to get to work now if you didn’t want to miss the next train and risk being late for your job. Grabbing the bag on your counter and doing a quick check of your stuff inside to see if you have left anything, you make your way out and lock the doors, you might as well get the day over with. 

Working at one of the largest companies in Japan didn’t exactly have a lot of perks, the pay was simply enough to live your single lifestyle, not so much to spoil yourself with new things for the most part but if it paid the bills and fed you three times a day, that was that. You couldn’t complain because you at least had the luxury and privilege to have a job in this economy.

By grace, you had fifteen minutes to spare after you commuted to work. Shibuya is busy as always, filled with men and women in corporate attire, most of them on their phones and running towards their respective offices. Meanwhile, you’re focused on the road as you make your way to the largest and sleek building in the district — Zen’in Corporation.

The building stands 35 floors high with quite a structure that's been praised by many architects and tourists alike. The inside was just as amazing as the outside but you’ve grown to hate the place, after all, it dreadfully reminded you of your dead-end job.  Pushing the door open, you’re greeted by the familiar noise in the lobby and dozens of people in line at the elevator. Opting to take the stairs instead since you were too impatient to stand in line.

Your floor wasn’t that high up anyways.

“Y/N-san!” A familiar voice greets you, Momo was a young spit-fire that interned at the HR department, she wasn’t exactly assigned to you but you had bumped into her one time while she and another intern, Miwa were gossiping by the water cooler, they had thought you’d scold them but you didn’t bother to and just went on your way. It wasn’t exactly a problem and it would be quite hypocritical since your office mates did the same thing in the break room, “i knew it was yo- oh wow, are you okay, Y/N?”

“What?” You asked, cupping your own cheek, “Is there something on my face?”

“You look sick.” The young woman pointed it out, her eyes glossed with mild worry, “You should’ve stayed at home.”

“I’m alright.” You reassured her, “and aren’t we supposed to finish our monthly reports by Wednesday? I still have ten files to go through.”

Momo crinkles her nose in disgust at the mention of paperwork, “Oh right, that.” She frowned, “I still have fifteen of those.”

“Isn’t that too much for something assigned three weeks ago? I thought interns were only given the maximum load of 20.”

“Actually,” Momo pauses on her tracks and places her hands on her hips, “The remaining fifteen isn’t mine. Mira had me do her part.”

“Ah,” you figured, Mira was a rather outgoing officemate who had everyone by her beck and call, she wasn’t exactly a mean person to you but she did have a habit of taking all the credit in a lot of everyone's works. You probably realized that the reason why she got away with it was because the superiors (since most were male especially the manager of the floor) and your male co-workers were very much captivated by her femininity. She was beautiful, petite, and had a very soft, honey-like tone that captivated a lot of people when she spoke, very much so did she reminded you of starlets in the movies with her beauty, you’d have to give her some credit on that part, she used it well, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You don’t really seem to mind her a lot.”

“I’m not exactly paid to do that.” You dryly replied, office politics were not part of your job description and you were still paid right either ways so why would you worry over trivial things? You had too much on your plate right now that you didn’t even want to be bothered anymore, “…and I advise you to not dwell on it too, she’s grading you for your internship.”

“Exactly why I have to suck up.” Momo groans in disgust as you finally reach your floor. Yet as soon as you push open the glass doors, you’re thrown off by the not-so calm and disarray atmosphere of the HR department, “Holy shit, is a celebrity coming or something?” The young intern next to you wonders out loud.

You check your phone and immediately curse when you see the date, “I wish,” you muttered, “I completely forgot that it was today. Someone is coming in for a check-up. The VP of the department, I think.”

“And why is everyone panicking?”

“Because we can lose our jobs if we don’t show better progress.” You said in disdain, remembering how one of your office mates got chucked out like scratch paper after the VP had simply said he wasn’t of use, “I’ll catch you later, I might have to finish the next ten works before break hits if I want to keep my job.”

Sometimes you wondered if this whole thing that they did was worth more than your paycheck. Suguru Geto had always been a thorn to everyone's side — again, aside from Mina, of course, yes even your vp head was charmed by her apparently, or so the gossip goes— because he thought everyone in his damn department were computers who upgraded their systems every month. 

He recently had transferred three months ago and you’ve had the complete privilege to not run into the said man since you liked to stay at your cubicle whenever he comes (Geto Suguru was also fond of talking to employees and once again, talking to him isn’t part of the paycheck)  and it was at the far end of the office where no head or boss could see what you were doing nor could you even see them, a win-win, really. Usually it would just be the manager or Mina who gives in the monthly reports yet every time they call someone after a meeting to fire an officemate, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be next. 

It definitely didn’t help that you hadn’t slept the night before today and only had instant coffee running through your veins to help you stay alert through your eight hour shift. Your anxiety was spiking up non-stop and countless unwanted scenarios ran through your head right now.

“Y/N-san?” Someone calls out, snapping you out of your trance, young Miwa stands there, peeking through your cubicle, “The manager wanted me to inform everyone that this will be a one on one affair today. So everyone has to be ready with their personal report. Manager says you’ll be interviewed after lunch break.”

You muttered a thank you and after she leaves, you start massaging your temples for relief. Your head was not only killing you because of the lack of sleep but the thought as well that you may or may not lose your job. 

Checking the work you’ve done, you realize that you’re halfway through cramming your fifth paperwork and you won’t be called until after lunch break. It wouldn’t hurt to use one of your five sticks today to calm you down. 

Five minutes would do.

You easily escape from your desk and make your way to the last floor, usually there would be some employees lounging around but it seemed like you had the open terrace all to yourself. Taking a cigarette, you place it in between your lips and flicker the plastic lighter at the end.

You take one long drag and let out a hefty sigh of relief in the bustling air.

You momentarily forget where you are, the blissfulness of it, eating you up.

“Too much crap on your plate?” An unfamiliar rough voice with an accent calls out, almost making you drop the cigarette between your fingertips in shock by the sudden company. 

You turn to try to find the source of the voice, only to find a tall and unfamiliar man in a suit with bleached hair standing there, standing out like a sore thumb.

“Sorry.” You place one arm on top of your crossed one as the cigarette slowly burns away, you’re unsure of what to say since you aren’t fond of talking to strangers, “Just work.”

“Sa’ll good.” He waves it off, stuffing his hands in his pockets, walking a bit closer. Only now do you get a very good look at his face. The stranger had striking and intimidating features, with piercing green eyes and an unbuttoned suit top that he seemed to pull off very well. 

Not only that but he seemed to have broken every single rule that the HR department had set regarding personal appearance from his bleached hair to his piercings on his two ears — was that a tongue piercing? — and to his clothes, so you definitely could tell he didn’t work here and he was probably just visiting.

“You got any more of those?” He asks, his eyes still laced with amusement as if you were some type of circus monkey.

“No,” you honestly replied, looking down at the cigar on your finger, “I’m trying to lessen my sticks a day.”

“Ah,” the good-looking stranger nods in agreement, “That’s a good resolution…”

“Yeah.”

Silence fills the air for a bit and you feel as if you should finish your drag quickly, again, strangers and you don’t mix well, so you take another hit and let out another puff, “must be pretty shitty though.”

“Excuse me?” You turn to look at the attractive stranger again, brow raised and face blank by the way he suddenly makes conversation.

“Your day.” He continues, gesturing towards the cigarette, “I mean, using one of your sticks so early.”

“Well, since when was work ever not shitty?” You dryly replied, tapping away the excess cinders on the stick. Your honest and haphazard reply throws him off but nevertheless, he remains intrigued by your words,  “9-5’s and capitalism are a bane to my existence.”

The stranger laughs, once again amused. You weren’t even trying to be funny, what a weird guy, “Has anyone ever told you how blunt you sounded?”

“Only my cousin, really.” You admitted, taking one last drag before dropping it on the floor and giving it one good step before gazing back at the stranger, hands stuffed in your trousers, “and well, you.”

“I’m honored.” He mused, “Does that mean you’re here most times?”

“Not anymore… I did tell you that I’m trying to lessen my sticks.”

“A shame.” He clicks his tongue, “It would’ve been nice to have this-“

He’s cut off by your phone’s timer ringing, signaling that your five minutes were over, “That’s my cue.” You end the timer and look back at the stranger, his eyes that still held the same amusement towards you, something that you continued to find odd.

“What’s your name?” He suddenly said before you could even leave.

“What?”

“Your name.” 

“Oh.” You blink, slowly registering what he had just said, “I don’t think that bit is too important, we probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

Something unfamiliar flashes in his eyes — confusion? 

Before he could even respond, you mutter a quick ‘goodbye’ and you’re off and back to your floor to finish your work. Completely re-energized and putting the odd stranger at the back of your mind.

Yet when you sit across Geto Suguru later that very same day, you’re perplexed and more so anxious that the cigar from earlier didn’t even seem to help at all. The man was far from what you expected to be; he was tall, young, and incredibly good-looking. It seemed like God decided to make you realize that some men were in fact, worth staring at. From the stranger a while ago to the faceless-now-with-a-face boss.

No wonder Mina and a few other women who caught sight of him fawned over and gossiped about him a lot by the break room.

You thought they were exaggerating, I mean the picture you had of Geto Suguru in your head was an old man nearing his fifties with thinning hair close to baldness and a marriage about to fall apart soon which was why he was taking it out on the employees in his department. You thought the women fawned over him since he had a heavy pocket.

Turns out, he was a man close to your age who made you very insecure because he had achieved a lot more and wasn’t like you who lived paycheck to paycheck, plus he didn’t look like one of those bosses that liked to mooch off their subordinates or lower workers. He looked put-together and seemed to be very responsible.

It irked and disturbed you that some people were just lucky in this system. It’s like you had won the bad luck lottery, not only was your soulmate shit but your job was shittier and dead end too.

“Ms. L/N?” He says, breaking your train of thought.

“Yes, sir?”

He observes you for a split second and tilts his head, “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” you nodded mutely, trying to maintain a straight-face, “Are we done now, sir?”

“Yes.” He responds, staring at your work again, “Everything seems to be in order, good job. I’m expecting more good work from you.”

Silence wafted the air a bit, what did he say?

“Oh.” You mumbled, very surprised by his praise, “Sir?”

He looks up from the paper again and you're greeted by dark obsidian eyes that seem to hold some lacklusterness at your weak reply, “I’ve read some of your data. It’s the most clear and concise one in the department. I tend to wonder why you don’t present it yourself since you seem to know more about the math and analytics. You’re doing your job well.” 

A part of you wishes he’d offer a promotion to the finance department because you’ve always wanted to work there (pay was definitely better) but he remains unphased and disinterested much to your dismay, “right,” you nodded to your boss, “I’ll make sure to provide more work with good quality.”

“As you should, Ms.L/N. Have a good day.”

Your knees are weak as soon as you leave the room. Mostly because Geto Suguru had quite the aura, was that why he became a boss quickly? God, you hoped that this would never happen again. 

The day had thankfully ended uneventfully after that, your VP and the manager had invited everyone out to eat and drink after for the successful one-on-one interviews. You passed on the offer, wanting to return home as soon as you could since you were still not feeling so well. It had technically been a while since the nightmares had happened and you wanted to just try and take another few pills, maybe even up your dosage a bit since you might need it. 

You should call Mahito about the whole thing and ask for a refund if this round didn’t work. 

You stood nearby the entrance of the company, staring at your phone and thinking whether you should call an uber or use the cramped up train. Exhaustion painted on your face from the long day. It definitely was a bad day, in your opinion, probably the worst of the worst you had in a while.

“Ms.L/N?” A very familiar and smooth voice calls for you once again and you feel a sense of dread rise up from your stomach because it’s your one and only boss who seems to make it his mission to remind you of your dreaded insecurity of underachievement.

“Sir.” You greet, bowing down for formalities, “Good evening.”

“Are you not coming for dinner?” 

“I’m taking a raincheck on that one, sir.” You honestly responded, “I’m not feeling very well today.”

“Ah,” he nods, “I understand, would you like me to call my personal chauffeur for you?”

“Sir?” You repeat, stunned by his words. Why would your boss even ask you that? 

“For your troubles and hard work, I seem to have made you lose all the color on your face a while ago at the meeting.” He points out, “Consider it an apology.”

“Oh, oh, oh no I could never.” You start shaking your head nervously, “And it’s alright, sir. I just didn’t expect you to be very, er…young… that’s why…”

Suguru quirks a brow at your honest statement, finding your statement entertaining, “First time someone has ever mentioned my age and my job. Are you implying something negative, Ms. L/N?” He asked.

Your eyes widened at his sudden and out of character joke— for a man who easily fired people, he sure knew how to ‘charm’ them. 

Yet how awkward could joking around with your superior be? The joke wasn’t even funny,  “No.” you weakly replied, “Trust me, Sir. It’s anything but that.”

Your boss is quick to notice your uncharacteristic response.

“I apologize, Miss L/N. It seems that my jokes aren’t as funny as they say.” Suguru notes, observing your tense shoulders, he didn’t look mad but there was mild worry laced in his tone, odd, “..and if you ever do need a ride home, don’t hesitate to cash in the favor. You’re one of the best employees the department has and I value my best employees to a high regard.” 

“I’ll take note of that, Sir.” You feebly replied and for a brief moment a small smile flashes on his lips. After saying your goodbyes to your boss, you let out another long sigh.

You need to get home quick, you’re barely able to function as it is.

The musty smell of wet clothes and liquor filled your nostrils. you blink fast, trying to adjust your vision to the darkness but you can’t exactly see anything at all, “Hello?” You call out, trying to feel your surroundings but all you can make out is that you're in a tight and small space, was this a cupboard?

You weren’t entirely too sure.

“Hello?” You try to quietly call out again, a part of you just wanted it to be over with, “Hello?”

The silence is too loud, too deafening that when you hear a small creak, you feel your stomach clamp. You clench your fist and back away to the wall, this is just a dream.

You didn’t need to be scared.

You will wake up soon.

Yet you feel something cold, wet, and sticky caressing your ankles. It was as if something was rubbing itself on you. You slowly try to move your feet away in hopes that it would stop but the grip on your ankles suddenly tightens, making you let out a blood-curdling scream, “No, no!” You plead as you suddenly feel it pull you beneath.

You know screaming was fruitless especially when its cold slimy hands starts going and creeping underneath your shirt to touch your breasts, “i love you, i love you.” It chanted like some sort of prayer and all you could do was continue to let out a mangled scream as it tried to force itself on top of you, “why can’t you see that I love you?”

You let out another choked sob along with a prayer that this dream would all be over soon.

You could feel it place a slobbering and disgusting kiss on your temple as you shakily try to get him away from it, shutting your eyes and turning away as far as you could, “You’ll see when we see each other again.” It said, trying to calm you down, “you’ll see how much i love you.”

You find yourself sitting straight away in your small room, bullets of sweat with panic-stricken eyes. Shakily putting on the night light to give yourself reassurance that you weren’t in some tight and dark corner with some monster who tried to force itself on you.

“You’re okay.” You muttered, hugging yourself as you slowly rock back and forth in attempts to calm your nerves down, “It’s not real. It’s not real.”

You continue to say those words but it still doesn’t stop the fear in your eyes nor the fast beating heart on your chest. 

You glanced at the nearby clock, 7 pm.

Guess the meds didn’t work for nap time either since you only got to sleep for thirty minutes. You take the glass of water by your bedside table and drink it all in one gulp, Mahito better have an explanation why his batch wasn’t working.

You shuffled to the kitchen, dragging your feet as you sniffed some cold chicken leftovers to see if they’re any good before stuffing your mouth full without even heating it.

Yet you stop mid-action and place your chopsticks down, “Fuck,” you cursed, running your hand through your dry hair in clear frustration and letting yourself rest there, your breathing completely uneven again as you realize that if your last illegal resort isn’t working then you will have to live like this for the rest of your life,  “Fuck.”

Maybe you could add a bit more? I mean, Mahito had said that if you wanted a very good night’s sleep, adding two more won’t do you much damage. Probably will just knock you off even more.

It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

You awaken the next day, feeling fresh and light with a big smile on your face. That was easy.

It was a dreamless night yet again after you had upped your dosage.

Maybe you didn’t need to curse Mahito on the phone, afterall. 

You begin your usual morning routine, the day would be just like any other before your mild mishap yesterday. The train isn’t that full either since you had come in a bit earlier, wanting to buy a sandwich and a small pack of cigs before entering the office at a nearby convenience store.

As you're making your way through the crowd, you stop in your tracks when a coffee shop door opens up right at your face. A loud thud could be heard as your head collided with the glass, a string of curses followed soon after, “what the fuck-“ the other person sounded angry for someone who knocked a stranger over yet you couldn’t deny that the accent sounded dreadfully familiar like you had heard it before, “-oh, it’s you.” 

You blinked at the sudden sense of familiarity as you looked up to find the stranger from the top of the building yesterday, you placed your hand on top of your head and rubbed it, trying to ease the pain, “It would be nice if you could watch where you’re opening the door next time, Sir.” You quietly replied, your forehead throbbing from the sudden collision.

The man behind him was about to say something but the stranger tells him to leave and that he’ll catch up with him later, he proceeds to turn to you, “Sorry, Usually people don’t walk in front of doors especially in front of an open coffee shop.” He didn’t sound as mad or impatient like a while ago, instead it’s replaced with the same amused tone from yesterday.

The man sports something business casual again, his suit having no tie and a few of the top buttons were popped open. He didn’t even try to hide the tattoo peaking on his chest --one you didn’t notice yesterday-- nor the small mark of red lipstick on the collar.

“Well it would be nice if you looked around, it’s not like you own the street.” You weakly retorted.

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.” The stranger in front of you remains teasing as if you were old friends and he just hadn’t knocked you over with such force, “Would you like me to bring you to a doctor? That’s quite the bump you got there.”

“I’ll live. I’ve got a 9-5 to go to after this.” 

“I remember.” He grins, recounting your rant yesterday, “The bane of your existence. Capitalism and being submissive to it.”

“Very nice of you to remember a stranger's rant.”

“It would also be nice for the stranger to give me her name.” He piped in, making you quirk your brow. You weren’t even sure why he had said that, why would he even want your name?

“Is this some sort of pyramid scheme that I’m not well aware of?” You wonder out loud, the bleach-haired stranger lets out a snort to hide his laughter and amusement at your rather honest and very straight-forward antics.

“No, no. I work at Zen’in corporation too.”

You raised a brow at his response, this definitely sounded like a pyramid scheme that you were being roped into. This guy broke every dress code that the HR department had set, he’d be fired as soon as he waltzed in with that hair, piercings, and too casual business attire.

“Sir, you’re honestly going to have to do better than that.” You awkwardly give his appearance a once-over, signaling that you were judging his rather out of this world appearance.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, the crinkles on his eyes evident that you found it almost endearing that such an intimidating face could make that, “Didn’t your teacher ever tell you to not judge someone based on their appearance?”

“She told me to also be wary of strangers.” 

“Well, my name is Naoya.” He introduces himself, the cool and suave tone in his voice is something you take note of, he seemed like someone who did on a daily basis, “Try to remember that so I won’t be a stranger next time.”

“Well, um, sir…”

“Naoya.” He cuts you off, correcting you in a fake posh and innocent voice.

“Well, naoya.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes at his rather playful attitude, “Some of us have actual jobs to get to so I have to go.”

“Still not giving me your name?”

You shrugged, “I don’t think giving my name to a stranger who hit my head is very smart.”

“I did say I was sorry, pretty girl.” You scrunch your nose in distaste as you heard the nickname he had given you and he lets out another round of laughter, “I see you don’t respond to nicknames and compliments well. I’ll take note not to call you that again.”

“What makes you even think we’re even going to see each other again?”

“I did tell you I worked at Zen’in corporation.” He winked, maintaining the playful banter between you two without even missing the beat. The man seemed to be sociable and very good with people to get someone like you to even respond and garner a reaction from, after all, you weren’t exactly good with such things like conversation, “Now go on, you’re going to be late, miss. I’ll see you around.”

You look at the large clock nearby and immediately let out a jumble of curses, mumbling a quick goodbye to the stranger who called himself Naoya. Leaving the playful man standing there alone amidst the busy street, the smile on his lips still evident, “Pretty girl.” He mumbles, only for him to hear. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

Later that same morning, you’re confused and not exactly sure why Geto Suguru had seemed to make it his mission to make your office work quite the living hell after what had happened yesterday. He seemed to have taken the words, ‘I’ll do better’ so seriously that he handed you a new batch of paperwork. 

“I’m expecting more good work, Miss L/N.” He says, handing the paperwork to you himself in your cubicle. You almost wanted to let out a scream as to why your boss couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Why was he even here anyways? Didn’t the guy work on another floor? It’s almost as if God had to remind you of how shitty and dead end your job was.

“I won’t disappoint, sir.” You mumbled, weakly. Taking a piece of paper and starting your first work. You notice how he remains standing there and you slowly look up to find him staring at you as if he was assessing your current situation, “Sir?” you ask, wondering what he was doing.

“Nothing,” he replies, “You look better than yesterday, I’m assuming you aren’t sick now?”

You fervently nodded, not entirely sure why your boss even remembers something trivial from an insignificant laborer like you.

“Alright,” he nods, gesturing at your work, “That’s better, I want this by my desk at the end of the week.”

You almost wanted to rip your hair out then and there when you heard those words. That asshole definitely cared for his employees' well-being, totally. You’re pretty sure he was Satan’s spawn or something along the lines of that with the amount of work he just gave you when you just had finished the monthly reports. 

You begin typing away, trying to mute your surroundings to at least finish some work, counting down the hours till you finished this stupid dead-end job that you had no choice but to comply since your stupid boss seemed to have make it his job to remind you of how miserable your life is.

By the end of your boring and mundane day, you’re standing right outside of Zen’in corporation, looking deadbeat tired like you’ve wrestled a bear to the ground. God, you needed to take those pills to get a goodnight’s rest. You tighten your grip on the paperwork you had to take home and take the cramped up train as usual. 

The thought of your bed being too enticing right now.

When you’re finally home, you toss your keys to the side, staring at the mail and unpaid bills along with a blinking telephone signalling your had unanswered messages from a few friends and probably your cousin and uncle checking up on you daily.

You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn, maybe sleeping after a hot bath won’t hurt you. You weren’t that hungry anyways and you could do the rest tomorrow morning. After taking a quick shower, you grab a full glass of water, pop a few pills (and a bit more) then swallow them with ease, the sensation of sleepiness slowly hitting you.

Oftentimes, your dreams would vary. Some days it would be a woman lulling you to sleep then the woman’s face would end up looking horrendous like someone had splattered her brains open. Other times it would be too erotic but not the type to turn you on instead make you sick to the stomach, or worst, something graphic, something so stomach churning that at times you’d wake up rushing to the rest room to start vomiting due to the detailedness. Yet you had realized that there were times where there was a common ground to these dreams, an unknown person whispering its undying love for you as it clung endlessly to you to the point where your airways were blocked.

It was there again, whispering words of affection in your ear, its hot breath trickling your skin.

People always had good dreams about their soulmate, they always described it as seeing a missing part of themselves yet when you faced the faceless man in your dreams with its cold and slimy hands all over you, forcing itself on you, you’re unaware of what part of that was exactly you were missing?

You sure as hell didn’t miss something like that.

You sure didn’t want that missing piece that people seem to clamor on about. 

And you sure as hell wanted to wake up from this nauseating dream, “Stop.” Your voice is rough as you try to resist yet it doesn’t want to stop licking you by the nape of your neck nor does it want to stop the hands travelling dangerously low on your waist.

Suddenly it stops and grips you tightly and if this wasn’t some dream, you’re sure it was going to leave a mark, “What are you doing?” it whispers, “You’re not suppose to be doing this. You’re not supposed to be leaving me. Don’t wake up, Y/N.”

But you’re already clamoring yourself up from this dream despite your body being in a paralysis state- something that would happen when you’re in deep sleep.

“Y/N, do-”

You’re awakened by the sound of the loud rock music playing from your neighbors above, once again, your body is in a feverish state and your face is painted with disbelief and fear. Wondering why it wasn’t working anymore. You grab a hold of your pills and try to empty the bottle's contents in front of you, checking it one by one and giving it a sniff. Wondering why, why wasn’t it working? You took two more than needed.

You increased your dosage. 

Why won’t it go away?

You grab your phone on the nightstand, your hands quivering, making you drop your phone in the process. You let out a frustrated groan, “Fuck.” You cursed, snatching the phone from the ground and gripping it tightly as you tried to dial the number of your dealer.

“Pick up,” You mumbled, pressing the call button next to his name, “Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

You start nibbling on your nails, a disgusting pet peeve you do whenever you’re too nervous.

“Well, if it isn-” Mahito’s droopy voice fills the line but you immediately cut him off.

“You-you aren’t high right now, right?” 

“Well that depends on what you need.”

“It’s not working.” You half-yelled, impatient by his playfulness, “You told me the body didn’t build up immunity until a long time!”

“Woah, woah, Y/N chill. You and I have been buddies for a long time.” he drawls on the last part for effect and tries to ease you but you’re continuing to ignore him because if this wouldn’t work then what exactly would you do right after? Would you be spending an eternity nose diving in those sick fantasies? “...and what do you mean, have you forgotten how the soulmate thing works?”

Mahito wasn’t exactly aware of your predicament, all you said to a mutual friend, Nitta, back when you were in college was that relationships and soulmates were disgusting and you didn’t want to be part of the status quo. She then introduces you to Mahito, a genius who liked cooking shit up in his lab. At that time, the underground scene had a thing called ‘pink’, a drug that changed those pure dreams into sexual dreams with your soulmate.

The bluenette was the one who not only made but distributed it himself, it grew big and it got everyone hooked. Having wet dreams, getting hornier when you wake up, and increased libido with your significant other or something along the lines of that. It amplified to the point that there was a significant spike on sex addicts during that time, the drug getting banned immediately and being labeled as illegal and could be charged for substance abuse.

Yet you weren’t looking for some relief at that time to get you off, you were looking for it to shut down immediately.

“...Thats impossible,” Mahito exclaimed to you back then, “You and I both know that shits impossible. I’m a genuis, baby girl but I ain’t no fuckin’ god of fate!”

“Well,” you muttered, “I guess that-”

“But,” Mahito holds a finger up, his long black nails still had some coke underneath it, “You were too specific, you said you wanted it to stop but not suppress.”

You blink, “Wait, like suppressors? Aren’t those illegal?”

“You literally came to me, the pink-cooker, and you expect shit like that to be legal? We’re not the pharmacy here, girlie! We don’t provide shrink prescription!” He retorts, opening his drawer and taking a blue pill bottle out, he starts grinning like a madman as he stared at the medicine behind the plastic case, “The only reason why suppressants are illegal is because too large of a dose messes with your head and leads to permanent brain damage. Mine, though, doesn't do that.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes in reply, “You’ll only build an immunity that’s it. Right after, you’re on your own but that’s like what, fifteen? Sixteen years?  Not sure, haven’t had anyone tried it before.”

Your eyes widen at his choice of words.

“O-oh then-”

“Don’t worry,” He tosses it to you carelessly, “It’s not as bad as pink where everyone turned to sex addicts! Trust me that's just libido, people are naturally feral, i just increased it a bit. You’ll just have no dreams for a few days when you take this and that's that. If you don’t want it, obviously don’t take it.”

“No-no permanent side effects?”

“It just helps the hippocampus stop working for a bit during the sleeping period.” He shrugs, nonchalantly explaining to you “It’s nothing too deep, you won’t get comatosed. I swear that on my career. I make drugs to help people, after all.”

His cheshire grin painted on his lips signaled untrustworthiness but at that time, you were desperate for an escape.

“How much?”

“Just give me a review after.” he replies, giving you a wink, “and come back if it works.”

“What soulmate thing? What do you mean?” You frowned, eyebrows scrunched together in worry as you pace back and forth in your room.

“Well,” Mahito paused, “I did tell you I was no god, remember? The drug only stops you from dreaming about them for a brief period, Y/N. Not actually meeting them.”

You feel your surroundings turn grey, no, oh god no. 

“You do know that the dreams amplify when you pass by your soulmate, right?” Mahito’s voice stated, as if he was saying the obvious, “This shits basic. Once you pass by each other, it could be anytime and anywhere, the drug can’t have any effect anymore.”

“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me?” You try to hiss but it comes out weaker. You grip your phone tightly as if wanting to chunk it to the other side of the room. The anxiety eating you up with the thought that you might’ve passed by the monster on your everyday rides on the train and walk to work or vice versa.

“Well I assumed you knew!” 

“I-I then the dreams are going to stop, right?”

“Well yeah, give it three days tops then the dreams stop.” he nonchalantly replied, “That’s how it usually works for everyone then fate gets on with it and y-”

You abruptly end the call and let out a long heavy sigh, your empty apartment getting colder.

You met it.

Whoever they may be.

You met the monster terrorizing your dreams.

taglist (if i cant tag u that means ur tags r off!)

@fancystark ; @shinsouscatpisssmell ;  @skyh20​ ; @messofavs​ ; @moonlitdabi​ ; @nakiich​ ; @Kuroi_chi ; ​@rogueofbullshi  ;

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk angst #jjk yandere #jjk imagines #geto x reader #naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #geto suguru x reader #naoya zen’in x reader #📝📝.sweet dreams mini series #hostclub.adulting