#king ghost x faerie reader

[celestialwhoree]

𝟏. 𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

Part One of Foreigner's God King Simon Riley X F! Faerie Reader

WC: 2k

Sunlight fractures through the leaves of age old oaks and ancient pines, dappling against your back, weaving through long strands of untamed hair to brush a kiss against your thinly clothed shoulders, spiders silk and gauze just barely fluttering on a phantom breeze stirred by the muted clopping of horse hooves on the forest floor. The mare beneath you holds tension in her withers, matching the unpleasant knotting of the muscle between your shoulder blades. She knows what’s coming just as well as you do. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt anxiety this way. It’s the kind of gnawing, unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach that comes only from venturing away from the safety of the trees and caves, brooks and hollow roots you call home. Your people call home. You force yourself to swallow down the fear - remind yourself that you’re doing this for them. Without this sacrifice, your sacrifice, the woods and forests which serve as sanctuary for your entire species, would be gone. The sick feeling in your stomach refuses to be soothed. 

In an attempt to calm yourself, to tear your mind away from the images you’ve conjured of what may await you on the forest edge, you focus intently on every slow stride of your companion. You draw your thoughts to counting every rhythmic movement of her shoulders, the way they gently jostle your hips as you follow each motion of hers with one of your own. A push and pull of a gentle tide. She and you melt into one being, acting and reacting in such effortless synchrony, such enviable elegance. An innate ability for which your kind are revered. 

Humans long lost touch with nature - shunned it in favor of such rapid growth, such vast power. They burned the trees to make room for their sprawling palaces, dug up the earth and all of her riches to build their roads, to grow their crops, never once wondering what she could provide had they simply respected her instead. Your people had never done such a thing, and for that, you’d been blessed. She’d provided you with everything you could ever have needed, and all you’d ever had to do was provide for her in turn. That balance, that equilibrium, is what humans have long since forgotten. Compromise, to them, is an impossible thing. To you and your kind, it’s an intrinsic part of life. 

At this moment, you feel that perhaps you know compromise better than any. 

The journey so far has been painstakingly long. On the one hand, it’s something you feel grateful for, that you’ve time to prepare yourself for the life that lies beyond the treeline. On the other, however, it’s excruciating. To ride through the forest, down the path away from the only life you’ve ever known, to mourn something you’ve not yet even lost. Every blazing orange dusk is another grain of sand dripping through the fingers of time, and every golden lighted dawn a death knell. You wonder if your sisters miss you the way you miss them. Your mother, too. Maybe they sit in quiet solitude, wondering what you’re doing at any given moment, or maybe they cry tears of frustration and anger at the fact that it could’ve been anyone else. Anyone but you. 

The days before had been spent in a resigned sort of mourning. You’d saved your tears for the first days of your voyage. 

You still so vividly remember sitting with your mother as she twisted up your hair, pinning it with flowers as she reminisced upon the girl taken by the last king. She’d been only as old as your youngest sister, Ophelia, when it had happened. Once every generation, every two, if you were at all lucky. You, unfortunately, were not. She’d spoken of how silent everything fell when the girl had been sent away - the strange, pained feeling that had settled over your people as they’d watched her go resigned into the trees. She’d never come back, of course, a fate that you too share. The small hope flickering like a fading ember at the bottom of your heart sings songs of longing. Such a foolish thing it is, holding out that perhaps the man who waits beyond the woods will love you, guide you to him with coaxing words and the gentlest of touches. You feel pathetic even thinking of it. 

You never had quite outgrown your childish fantasies of love, and in turn, had given the humans holed up behind their cold stone walls another innocent heart to break. 

When the sun shrinks back to nothing but a hazy golden glow, like that of a dying fire or burning star, you realize that more for your horse’s sake than your own, that it’s time to stop, to rest before you carry on with your journey. A day or two more and you’ll have reached the place where the canopy dwindles and the roots which cover the forest floor grow sparse, travel under the earth as though to hide from the human feet which march upon them. You hope for at least one more blissful sleep under the stars, moss under your head and night creatures watching your rest with vigilant, unseeing eyes. 

Settling aside the small pond where your horse bends at her withers to drink, you lay up against the gnarled stump of a fallen tree, which yields to accommodate your body, just one of the many perks of being so connected with nature. You’ve no need to set up a campsite when the forest welcomes and provides for you with such ease. It’s not easy to forget the fact that the forest probably recognises the way you’re feeling - sympathizes with your predicament.

As you drift off into a fitful sleep, under the comforting twinkle of the stars, A king is waking.  Behind the fortified stone walls of the palace, the revelry celebrating the lead up to King Simon’s wedding has lasted for days. To most, it’s an opportunity to celebrate. Their cold, reclusive king finally taking a wife. When the betrothal had been announced, the sigh of relief collectively exhaled by the nation had been palpable. He hadn’t wanted to do it - marry some wild forest thing and rut her full of little fat wailing babies. Johnny had been the unfortunate soul tasked with convincing him - reminding him that since Tommy passed, so did the soul heir to the Riley line. With enemies poised in the south, ready to exploit any weakness they could find, Simon hadn’t exactly had much choice. His being backed into a corner, however, hasn’t made him the most pleasant to deal with during the preamble to his rapidly inbound nuptials. For not only his sake, but also everyone else’s, he hopes that his bride-to-be is at least reasonably tame. With his luck? Highly doubtful.

His closest men had shared their theories and fantasies of some nymph-like creature, lovely and demure, happy to bend to Simon’s every whim, less wife, more well trained pet. Whilst he can appreciate a beautiful woman just as much as any man can, he keeps his expectations low - pleasant to be around and a decent conversationalist is enough for him. 

He’s tried to expel the thoughts of marriage from his mind for as long as possible. He’s far too busy to be distracted with silly fantasies of rose petal decorated aisles and which rings he’ll select for his betrothed. Keeping a kingdom running and the vulture-like men that are his enemies at bay is no mindless thing. Simon barely has time enough to sleep, let alone celebrate a wedding he doesn’t want, nor to take the day-long trek to the agreed meeting place to collect his new wife. To collect his new wife. Parade her on horseback like some exotic acquisition to be flaunted, to grow bored with when the novelty inevitably wears off. 

It’s impossible to ignore the way his knees creak as he rolls tiredly from his bed, the fathomless cold embedded in the very core of the flagstone floors seeping into his bare feet as he dresses himself. In spite of his status as King, Simon keeps his appearance reasonably simple, his tunics plain and armor scarcely decorated. Easier to dress. Simon Riley is a man of convenience, the bells and whistles of being monarch are nothing but a hindrance. 

The celebrations have thankfully quieted, all of his courtiers and castle residents undoubtedly tired, hungover and sore from the days of singing, dancing and drinking - days which he’s mostly spent holed away in his study, playing chess with wooden carved soldiers on battle maps, giving the occasional go-ahead to wedding planners and burying his nose in any literature on strategy he can find.  Today, unfortunately, his kingly duties outweigh his reclusiveness. He’ll only travel with Price to the meeting point - having originally wanted to go alone so as to make your initial meeting less intimidating, a point to which the head of his Kingsguard had made his disagreement abundantly clear. Yes, Price knows that Simon is fully capable of looking out for himself, but he sure as hell isn’t giving him any chance of proving that. He’s also desperate to get out of the castle and away from the mothers attempting to shove their daughters at his feet. So, with huffed complaints about the weather, and the threat of oncoming rain, signaled by the gritty gray clouds blotting out the starlight, the two men set off. Hooves beat thunderously across stone, dirt and grass as they make their way past the walls of the city, through the dwindling suburbs of thatched roofs and smoking chimneys and out into the vast plains of the countryside. The fresh air is a welcome reprieve from the smoke and burning metal of forges, the grassy hills and fields stretching for miles a refreshing break from the towering monoliths of stone that make up the palace. He can see why people would like it out here, away from the banal chatter of gossip and the unrelenting noise, left to grow stagnant within the confines of winding alleys or houses packed so closely together. Simon hasn’t even met you, and yet he already finds himself sympathizing for the adjustment you’ll have to make. 

You, meanwhile, feel surprisingly more grounded following your nap, having allowed both yourself and your horse to rest for a while before continuing your journey. The gnawing anxiety in your stomach is soothed by the handful of blackberries you’d found and snacked on as you continued through the slowly more sparse woodland, and although you’re still wallowing, at least you’re not wallowing on an empty stomach and no sleep. 

The sun slowly inches west behind the cloud cover, which quickly replaces the forest canopy you’ve always known, and tells you that in your mental absence, another day has nearly come and gone, and with that, the mileage covered which draws you closer to your inevitable fate. The birdsong has long since gone quiet, and there’s no longer movement indicative of life in the shrubbery. Just you, and the parapet on which you seem to endlessly walk. 

Until the forest seems to stop entirely. The trees halt their growth at some invisible boundary, wildflowers cease their spread with an unnatural abruptness and your stomach goes lurching. Like you’ve jumped from a cliff. You’ve jumped from a cliff, you’re about to hit the ground, and everything in you is screaming for time to stop, for fate to twist, for the inevitable to be somehow avoided. 

You could turn back. You could still turn back, and the forest would welcome you home with open arms. You could go home to your sisters, to your mother and the magic woven into everything you’ve ever known.

You could turn back - but in turning back, you’d only shatter the fragile peace forged so weakly between your own people, and those who’ve come to take you away. 

“Looks petrified.” Price observes from where he and Simon stand proud upon the hill, watching as a faerie on a white horse comes emerging tentatively from the treeline. You do, you poor, delicate thing, Simon thinks to himself as he, Price, and their imposing black friesians make their way to greet you. 

Happy Foreigner's God day to those who celebrate 1.8k and 2k are basically the same so pls enjoy the 1st chapter 💕

#celestialwhoree #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #king ghost #king Simon Riley #Simon Riley x reader #faerie reader #king ghost x faerie reader #cod au #foreigner's god #2k special #cod mw2 #cod #tf 141 #call of duty #simon riley #ghost x reader #Simon Ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x f!reader #Simon ghost Riley x yn #simon riley x f!reader #Simon Riley x yn #Simon riley #ghost x f!reader #ghost x y/n #ghost simon riley

[undiscovered-horizon]

Die Happy - Sanji x Reader

SUMMARY: Sanji is disillusioned about your lack of interest in him. Someone like you could pick and choose among princes, kings and emperors. What's a measly cook to you? Nevertheless, his lovesick heart continuously rejoices when you choose him to waste time with.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

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Part 2 -> "Maelstrom"

Sanji has never believed in ghouls, witches, faeries and the like. However, when he met you his belief began to shatter:

Like a dark sorceress covering the whole world with a curse, you lured all the influential, important men like fire does moths. At first, Sanji fooled himself that all those generals, merchants and noblemen only wanted something pretty to hang onto their shoulders but reality destroyed his comforting illusion when the said men offered riches most people couldn’t even fathom. If you asked them for an armada to sail to the Grand Line, they’d only ask what type of wood you’d prefer. Despite something akin to world domination lying at your fingertips, you always laughed those offers off, telling your powerful suitors that you would think about their words and get back to them.

Sanji once asked whether you’re truly considering marrying one of the generals or kings. Some more naive part of him hoped you’d say no. Alas, the truth, once again, was his adversary:

“Obviously!” you giggled at his silly question. “But I won’t marry the first one that offers me wealth and whatnot. First, I’d like to see all of my options and the world…” your voice trailed away as you vaguely pointed around the two of you. “Well, it’s a big place. Many more kingdoms to visit.”

But to his own demise, the cook was a fool unlike any other. He had no chance at winning your heart, no matter how much he’d try. Still, his untamable desire egged him on, whispering sweet songs of your grace. Even if he could taste your lips only in his imagination, he could do his best for you to have a reason to keep him around like a dog that begs for scraps at his master’s table.

Sanji knows he’s only hurting himself, only furthering his desperation when he makes you smile or earns a speck of your affection. Every dawn, he promises to free himself from your sorcery but when dusk comes and his left with the Moon, his only confidant, he realizes that he could never possess enough power to cut himself free from you. You’ve pierced his heart right through and if he pulls your knife out of his chest, he’s bound to bleed out and die. It’s better if he lets you have complete control over his mind and soul - it’s the only way he will make it out alive.

He’s left cold and lonely on that night. Soft, silver moonlight washes over him through the small porthole in the wall of his room. The sea is almost black at this hour of the night but it becomes a mystical sapphire when the Moon’s glow washes over the lazy waves making them glisten like pure diamonds.

Diamonds… maybe if he had diamonds, you’d see him as a man and not just a shipmate.

Quiet knocking on his door wakes Sanji up from his thoughts. Before he has a chance to get up and open the door or tell the guest to come in, the mysterious visitor enters out of their own volition.

Your tired face makes Sanji think about painting in museums - the ones all connoisseurs consider “classics” and “timeless”. The silk shirt you’re wearing looks not only awfully expensive but, which is much worse, to be a men’s size. Its hem ends right underneath your buttcheeks, threatening to expose your body should you lift your hands. In the darkness of his cabin, you appear as nothing beyond a phantom, a hallucination born out of desperation. And just like a ghost, you’ve come to haunt and torment him in the sweetest of ways; in a way only you can.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks in a raspy voice. Sanji is doing a great job at appearing unaffected by your rather scantily clad form.

Carefully, you close the door behind you and walk towards him. Your skin glows when you step into the rays of soft moonlight pouring in through the porthole. Dishevelled hair, half-closed eyes and a slightly puffy face - Sanji has imagined you this way countless times but never actually seen. He can feel his body burning up, telling him to seize the opportunity, to wash you in the most charming and suave words he can think of.

“Nami kicks while sleeping,” you say quietly. “I swear to god my whole side is bruised at this point. Can I sleep with you?”

Sanji has to remind himself to breathe and to do so calmly. He’s cool, completely in control of himself. His mouth feels unbearably dry.

“‘Course you can,” he answers casually. With a swift move of his arm, he lifts the duvet. “Come on in.”

The pure bliss that suddenly appears on your face forces Sanji to take in a sharp, ragged breath. It’s an expression he also imagined one too many times when his desperation poisons his mind - not that he’s willing to admit it even to himself. He knows it’s wrong to even entertain a scenario in which you would grace him with such an enraptured face. Still, his will is not as strong as he often makes it out to be.

“Sanji, you are my salvation,” you tell him while getting under the covers with him.

“I know, love.”

It’s both strange and natural, the way your body fits his. As though the two of you have done it so much the memory of your muscles twists and turns your limbs to rest in the most comfortable and intimate way. The odd familiarity makes Sanji think that maybe in another lifetime this is how he always sleeps. He wishes he could find himself in that reality even for a second. Alas, it’s too far out of his reach.

“Damn, you’re really comfortable,” you mumble against his chest. Your hot breath makes him shiver. “And warm. I don’t think I’ll be going back to my bed.” A small grin of cosiness appears on your face - one that Sanji will never forget.

His broad chest and strong arm normally go unnoticed by you but now they’re like a fortress. And just like high stone walls are an unspoken promise of security and happiness, his firm hold on your body is a silent oath of a good night's sleep.

“Stay as long as you want,” he whispers back to you. 

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d notice that his words aren’t a statement but a plea. They’re the last thing you remember before drifting off to a restful slumber.

Your breathing slows down and gains a steady, shallow rhythm. Keeping you close to his chest, Sanji allows his hands to gently brush against your arm and back. His movements are feathery, almost fearful. He wouldn’t want you to wake up and change your mind about spending the night beside him - he can indulge in his heart’s desire but he must do so carefully.

“If you only gave me a chance,” he whispers into the night.

Knowing you’re asleep and bound to remain ignorant of his affections, Sanji kisses the top of your head. His lips linger against your hair while he takes in the scent that haunts him day and night. Unknowingly, his grip around your body tightens at that moment as though he has suddenly grown most terrified of having you disappear. Too many nights he’s dreamed of this exact scenario only to wake up to a cold, empty bed.

When the dawn arrives and you leave his arms, this little moment of affection won't mean anything to you. It means nothing now. Sanji knows this very well. He doesn't try to lie to himself that maybe you'll wake up a changed person and finally see him as more than a friendly comrade. Although tonight means nothing to you, it holds an unspeakable weight to Sanji, who will forever gloat about the fact that when you needed help, it was him you turned to. It was his arms that guarded your sleep for a few hours.

Fighting off sleep until he collapses, Sanji revels in the feeling of you against his body and pretends, even if for one night, that you’re his the same way he will always be yours. Watching you sleep cuddled into him, he swears he could die happy now.

#sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #opla #one piece #one piece live action #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #opla x reader #opla x you #opla imagine #opla fanfiction #sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #one piece sanji #blackleg sanji #sanji fanfiction #sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji fanfic #vinsmoke x you

[peachesofteal]

Call of Duty

Nav post / Main masterlist

Faerie

Simon Riley's masterlist

Ghost x Soap x female reader Dead Disco It's not easy, being the one always left behind Simple Math You had a plan, but never could have anticipated… this. The Pit - (2/2) There are some predators that thrive in winter. An Ichor Veil (of Flower Kings) Two Kings sit on thrones of decay, waiting for their eternal season to bloom. Doe Mafia!au Cool Girl - part one - part two - part three

Musings: lifestyle sub Pac rim Martini

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish Which Witch - part 1 / part 2 'Fire help me to forget Soap x Cypher

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick Crane your neck He'll make it, but not without you. Trick or Treat Trick or treating is an odd custom. Cosmic Love

John Price The Ocean A stranger arrives in Price's life Long and Lost

#masterlist

[sunlightheidi]

Jihyun Kim "V" x Reader/MC

AU Fantasy, written for the Mystic Dance Event, hosted by the lovely @little-butterfly-writes. Roles provided, "Princess x Court Painter".

"I'll meet you in the forest, let's let this wild thing grow."

- Forest, Fancy Hagood

Jihyun was chosen from a neighboring kingdom to paint the royal family.

It was an honor, to be selected as the court artist; for his art to hang on the palace walls alongside portraits of previous kings and queens.

There are countless tales told throughout the kingdoms; stories of the ruthless king who commanded the armies, of the regal queen who could turn men into stone with a simple look.

And of the stoic crowned princess, who possessed the ethereal beauty of the fae, and the same coldness too.

He’s painted that captivating beauty on canvas more than once; has traced the dip of your collarbone, the fullness of your lips, the almond shape of your eyes with his paintbrush so many times he can do it from memory alone.

You are always seated on that golden throne when he does, decorated in sapphires and dressed in layers of silk and lace – always watching him with a sort of fascination as he paints, a sparkling wonder in your gaze.

You sit on that throne now, your head held high, waves of black hair falling down your back, and a crown of rowan berries on your brow. Your dress is golden, accentuating the sun-touched colors of your skin and the darkness of your eyes as they roam over the ballroom to the people dancing and celebrating the return of autumn.

There is a sort of hypnotic magic about you and he sees it perfectly then, how you truly could have been fairy in a past life; sparkling wings on your back, adorned in colors of orange and red and yellow as you sat on a throne of marigolds and ruled over the autumn court.

Perhaps you may have even allowed yourself to dance amongst your folk, lost in the addicting taste of pomegranates as you moved freely to the wild music.

But that is not who you are now. Not who are you expected to be.

You do not partake in the autumn celebration with your people, you are not allowed to laugh and dance in the way he knows you desire to. In the way you have so freely danced and laughed by his side in hidden corridors.

Your only purpose is to serve your kingdom, and outside of your clandestine meetings with him, you play your role flawlessly. No one would dare suggest otherwise.

If only they knew the restlessness that lingers in your heart. The same kind and wild heart you have given to him– a secret belonging to you both alone.

The music ends and you clap gently in your lap, almost unconsciously, as most of your mannerisms are – but your eyes are dazed, he knows your thoughts are elsewhere.

He has been hounded by daydreams of you as well, wishes he could stand in front of that throne and take your hand as an equal; to lead you to the ballroom floor and hold you in his arms as you sway together, just as you have done many times before in the dark.

The orchestra begins to play a new piece, something slow and soft that echoes through the ballroom; the chandeliers shimmer from the high ceiling as partners retake their place and begin a new dance.

Carefully, as to not draw attention to yourself, you stand, hands gripping the skirts of your dress as you curtsey to the king and queen, who briefly nod in your direction in permission to take your leave. He follows you with his eyes as you walk down the steps of the podium and to the large entryway, but something catches his attention – a golden satin ribbon, left behind on the seat of your throne.

You have played this game before, he knows what the token means; and when he looks up, in a single moment that freezes time, you look over your shoulder and meet his gaze. He nods in understanding, and there’s a sparkle in your eye as you close the doors behind you.

He wants to run after you, to spin you around in his arms and declare his fidelity to you in front of the world. But you are a princess…and he is only the court painter – the consequences should anyone discover you two together, of the things you have done under secrecy, would end in tragedy.

So he waits, and when the kingsmen turn to assist their majesties to the ballroom floor, Jihyun slips through the entryway and weaves down dark corridors and forgotten doors.

He is lost in a haze to get to you, has waited eagerly for weeks to spend time with you, and not the person you pretend to be for everyone else. He wants your silly laughter and teasing smiles, your fondness for flowers and furry forest creatures.

In an unlit corner of an unused passageway, there is a door that blends into the stone of the walls, it is not easily seen in the dark, but Jihyun knows exactly where it is and how to twist the lock to the room that has become his haven.

He steps through the low archway and closes the door behind him, feels a sort of relief when he turns to find you watching him.

It is indescribable, how painfully beautiful you are illuminated by the candlelight – woven in golden and waiting for him.

He bows, deeply. “Princess.”

And then, the respectable haze you have found yourselves in for weeks vanishes.

In an instant, you wrench yourself forward into him, tackling him into something fierce. He grasps you, cradling you safely in his arms as you wiggle in your happiness.

“Jihyun,” you whisper against his chest, nose buried in the hilt of his tailcoat. “I was afraid you would not come.”

He pushes you back, enough to look into your eyes and trace the outline of your cheekbone with his thumb. “Of course I came. I cannot deny you a single thing, nor do I wish to.”

“I did not think I would have the time to slip by their attention tonight, I am eternally grateful their minds are elsewhere.”

“Do you need to get back?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your waist; already dreading having to part.

“Not yet, not so soon.” You reach for him, stand on the tip of your toes and brush your lips against his in the softest of kisses. “I have missed you terribly.”

“As have I, darling,” he whispers against your mouth. “I have to stop myself constantly from reaching for you in the hallways.”

An impish smile graces your lips, sly and conniving. He imagines this must be how the fae tempt humans into their world.

“You are certainly free to touch me now, in whatever way you desire.”

He catches up quickly, as he tightens the hold on your waist and brings his lips to yours – warm breath and honey taste – soft and slow, memorizing every part of this moment.

He rubs small circles on your back just above your waist, feeling the silky material of your dress as you put your arms around his neck, bringing him in as close as you possibly can. And when you pull back to catch your breath, you smile at him slyly, all hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, bottom lip between your teeth.

“Pray tell, you wicked thing. What enchantment have you placed on me?”

A soft laugh, no more than an exhale, ghosts across the side of his neck, raising goosebumps across his skin. You stand so close he can smell the sweetness of the roses pressed onto your skin, the floral scent instantly hauling him back to an afternoon in the court gardens, where you hid behind large rose bushes and he pressed you against the grass and kissed you until sundown.

“It was the pomegranate seeds I fed to you in the garden” you whisper, playfully. “It was faerie food, meant to entrap you to my side for the rest of your days.”

“You could have simply asked me,” he replies. “My answer would have been yes.”

Your eyes go soft, but sparkle suddenly in the way they do when you decide to be cheeky. “But that would be a waste of a perfectly ripe pomegranate, do you not agree?”

He bites at the pout of your lip in reprimand, feeling satisfied with the redness there when he pulls back. “Do you truly have a response for everything?”

“I thought you liked my mouth,” you say, just a fraction shy and very much teasing as your hands wonder down his chest.

“I do, it’s perfectly sweet.” His hand firmly cradles your chin and he leans in until your breath is upon his lips. “Do not divert, my dove. Will you share with me what has been on your mind tonight? You have been on a cloud all evening.”

Your eyes open in surprise, but smile softly at him as he holds your face between his hands. His thumb traces your berry lips and your eyes flutter shut in resignation.

“I have tried, for a very long time, to find dignity in my role.” He notes the softness of your voice, mixed in with the bitter resentment he’s only caught glimpses of before. When your eyes flutter open, there is sadness. “I have found nothing, and I am tired of it all. I do not know who I am beyond what I’m told to be, and I do not care for it any longer. I wish to please only you.”

Your eyes are suddenly and incredibly soft as they hold onto his, your fingertips tracing his hipbones, moving up his abdomen. He brushes a gentle stroke of his lip against yours, flashing loving eyes as if to say what neither of you has found the courage to admit yet.

“You have shone light upon my dreams, Jihyun. But there is no room for you in my life, and you deserve to be with someone that will not be a threat to your own.”

He is hardly ever angry; he finds he does not care much for such emotions. But in this moment, he feels an inexplicable sadness and fear that you will disappear before he has the chance to tell you how truly his life belongs to you.

“Should you wish to end things with me, I will retreat immediately without a word and pretend nothing has happened. But do not make decisions for me. I wish to be with you, in whatever manner possible. If these meetings are all that I will ever have, then I will have this over nothing.”

Light laughter erupts from your throat and you quickly slip one hand from his chest to muffle the unexpected sound. Tears spring from your eyes at last, a blend of humor and grief.

“I wish I could kiss you and make you king.”

He gently takes hold of your soft hands, engulfing them in his calloused ones. He notices the pleasant shiver that runs up your spine at the intimate gesture.

“I do not want to be king, I just want to be with you,” he admits.

You are quiet for a long time, contemplative. He brushes tendrils of your hair off your shoulder, feels your collarbones beneath his fingertips.

“We are in love, aren’t we?” You whisper, and there’s a sort of hesitancy there, as if you have only just realized what this could mean for both of you – the inevitable heartbreak that is destined.

From the very moment your worlds collided – he knew he would fall in love with you. And as he has come to know you – eyes alive like wildflowers and smiles that carry sunshine – he dreams of nothing more than to meet his fate by your side.

“I love you, with everything that I possess.”

“Then run away with me,” you plead, putting yourself nose to nose with him, his blue wisps of hair against your forehead. “Let’s go to another land. Somewhere far away where we can be close to an ocean and have a garden of roses.”

“Your father will send kingsmen after us,” he warns quietly, stoic beneath your hands, hesitant to reciprocate. “He will not be merciful.”

You shake your head fiercely, speak one last offer of clarity. “My father cares not for what may happen to me, he never has. He has two more children he can crown.”

“If you are sure about this, I believe King Han may grant us sanctuary should we reach his borders. I have known him since we were children, and Jumin can be ruthless, but he is fair. Though I must warn you, once we reach his castle, your title will be stripped.”

“I do not want to be a princess, I just want you,” you whisper and lean into him, press a breeze of a kiss to the corner of his mouth, another against his jawline. “Promise you will meet me at midnight, out in the forest.”

The sweetness of you has long burned away his fear, and in its place a mellow kind of anticipation has taken hold. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to his lips.

“As you wish,” he mumbles against your palm and you giggle joyfully before you throw your arms around his neck.

And for everything he believes in, your face is as precious as all the jewels and gemstones of any kingdom; it is the smile you grace him with upon his yes, shining with the power of a thousand suns, that confirm he has found the world’s greatest fortune.

#I was so hesitant to post this #but fuck it #here it is #enjoy #jihyun kim #jihyun kim x reader #mystic messenger #v mysme #v route #v mysme fanfic #v mysme x reader #v mystic messenger #Jihyun Kim fanfic #Jihyun Kim mysme #Jihyun Kim mystic messenger #period/fantasy au #the mystic dance #mint palace ball

[project-ohagi]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader {Fantasy AU}

Buy me a coffee!! <3

Crimson.

A most enchanting crimson. That was the sight awaiting your rest-deprived eyes, as they dipped in and out of the mountain springs connecting the queendom of the faeries to this mortal coil. Had you happened upon a particularly beautiful fairy, or were you perhaps still dreaming? There were so many emotions swimming amid those starry pools...anger, mystification, irritation, suspicion, even a hint of nervosity. But only a hint. It was innocent, it was vulnerable, and it certainly didn't match what he chose to display. Actually, it reminded of the children who made merry in the castle's courtyard; the ones who weaved flowers into crowns and were excited for you to read to them tales of faraway lands, of dragons and masters, of mages and knights.

Well, if this man who knelt before you belonged to the plane of reality, and wasn't a tempting illusion...might you have been transported into one such tale? You reached out a hand, almost unwittingly, to ghost your fingers across his skin. It was pale and smooth. He made no effort to cease your actions, instead watching, as if an astral projection, as your fingers wandered the entirety of his face. His nose scrunched in mock disgust, lips silently begging to be claimed.

How could a seemingly small and fragile woman incite such a fierce reaction within him? He didn't understand, but he wanted to.

And then, a seraphic voice called, to snap him from a pleasant reverie. It took a few seconds to realise that you were its origin. "Um...my apologies - I must be disturbing you! B-But...may I ask...where exactly am I?"

"...My land." He grunted, after some careful consideration.

Was your ignorance genuine, or a mere deception? No-one arrived at Bakugou's territory without the intention to usurp him, or to slaughter him alongside the countless dragons who inhabited the land. But...would a frail-looking girl be selected for such a dangerous task? It was unlikely - though the possibility couldn't be discounted, for safety's sake.

"Your land? Are you perhaps the king here? Ah, what should I call 'here'? And, please pardon the intrusion! I-I'm not certain myself how I wound up on the forest floor. Not - not in foreign land, at least. I remember talking to the elves...oh, my goodness! I must have succumbed to sleep. How foolish of me! Father always warned against sleeping in the forest! Oh...what if there is a changeling replacing me right now, in the castle? What am I to do?"

"Quit mumbling. It's annoying." Those four words immediately flustered you, but he continued. "...You don't know how you got here? And...what's that about a castle? You royalty or something?"

With a quick gesture of affirmation, you replied, "My father is King (K/n)...not an awfully nice man, but saying anything more could be considered treason. Rest assured, he is not above executing one of his own."

Bakugou's expression soured. "That's fucked up."

Yours erupted in shock and awe. "T-That word...you use it? Is it not too vulgar?"

"Hah? Do I look like a gentleman, to you? Sorry Princess, but I curse as and when I like." He puffed out his chest, secretly hoping that you might compliment his muscles.

"'Princess'?" You gazed forlornly at the dress you wore. "This is your land. I'm no princess here."

You didn't wish to offend this man, especially not when the spears and swords you anticipated weren't being pointed at your throat. Bakugou's tongue was sharp, his responses crude and unrefined. Despite this...there was a warm aura emanating from him. And, from the way he started patrolling the length of the cave (as you soon recognised it), he was focused, protective. Even as the idle conversation whiled away the hours, even though he never really abandoned your side (whether this was due to doubt or care, you remained oblivious), he made a point of checking and re-checking, for any anomaly. When the western wind targeted you quite harshly, Bakugou forfeited his fur-lined cape. He draped it over you, grumbling all the while.

Though, your keen eyes caught the faintest of shivers, and before he could protest, you wrapped the cape around your bodies, snuggling into him. Bakugou's heart fluttered. His mind was failing to comprehend this new feeling, this sense of...home, and the sudden need, no - urge to provide and cherish. The small breaths against his chest, the hair tickling his skin...

Bakugou had little experience with human women. Until your arrival, the dragons were his only companions. Well, maybe the merchants (Ashido and Kaminari) could be classified as such? Definitely not that wannabe-knight, Deku, nor the fully-fledged knight, Iida, nor the Mage, Uraraka...

What if you were special? His pair - his mate? During your slumber, in the absence of any words, any reason for being here...he guessed either a fairy, a witch or a succubus, for your breed. But faeries were blessed with wings, and witches never ventured without their brooms. As for a succubus...you seemed too easily-flustered. The disbelief still permeated his mind. You, a creature of such ethereal beauty, were human? Like him? It was a simple mistake, to imagine you as something greater. His fixation had been instant. He knew what he wanted. Whether it would prove to be love, or some other, unfamiliar emotion...well, he wasn't renowned for patience, but...this was surely something to cultivate, something that required natural growth and progression.

Hopefully, your departure wouldn't be swift. Hopefully it would be messy, complicated, and eventually you would realise your true home: right here, by Bakugou's side. Together, you would spin a tale of love and devotion for the ages. Hopefully. If you didn't choose to leave.

If you left, if this feeling faded...what dreadful emptiness might consume him? He wondered about your interests, relatives (were you betrothed?), friends, future plans...he needed to sync your dreams and passions. You were perfect for him, so he needed to be perfect for you! This was his final, grumpy thought, before sleep lured him closer, closer, closer...

The morning brought forth a barrage of questions and quandaries, like: where the fuck were you? And: when had you abdicated his side? "Shit! Fuck! Shit! DEKUUU!"

"Hm?" Hearing the commotion, you poked your head around the corner.

"Who is 'Deku'?"

"Tch. Nobody. Where were you? When did you leave? Why didn't you wake me? You could've been hurt!" He scolded, loathing the slight wince caused by his raised voice. "...Sorry. I was just...urgh, nevermind!...Did you cut your dress?"

Sure enough, the distasteful garment (distasteful only because he wished to rip it off your body), once trailing on the ground, now settled just above your knees. "Yes! I would rather something shorter, anyway. Um...did I...does it not look..."

"It's better. If it's long, you'll just trip over stuff..." There lay a subtle blush upon his cheeks.

It went unnoticed. "Oh, thank you! I was hoping for practical and cute! And, um...I shouldn't intrude on you for too long, but perhaps I can be useful? I can cook...although that is probably all I can do."

"'Cause you'll wanna go home soon, I guess."

You laughed the most glorious melody. "That place is not my home."

Bakugou couldn't allow the silence to fester, lest this golden opportunity be wasted. "I can find work for ya. The dragons always need feeding...I can cook and clean, so don't fuss over that."

"B-But...I should repay you somehow!" Your whining flipped a switch in his heart.

I can think of a million reparations, but I can't say a single one of them...God, was I always this useless?

He groaned. "Like I said, I'll find something. You just...stay here for now. I'll go and catch breakfast, since I couldn't do that last night."

"I'm so sorry!"

While you wallowed in undeserved shame and guilt, Bakugou rejoiced at the memory of your conversation - all the monologuing, that transitioned into stumbles and stutters when you spoke for an extended time...the housewife air surrounding you (definitely a product of Bakugou's delusion), the way you smiled and laughed...It was ecstasy, Heaven, warmth! It was everything, and so, so much more! It was pure...

He started collecting little trinkets alongside the food - things he thought you might appreciate. Gifts, if you will. He imagined you smiling brighter, wider than before. He imagined receiving a kiss, whether a shy peck or a fiery lip-lock. He imagined decorating your neck with a dragon's teeth necklace, and showing off your bond to the world. If you would...accept him, accept everything about him, then...bliss would rain upon his heart forevermore.

She'll be my mate. She has to be! I won't let her be with anyone else...! I'll lay my claim soon enough, just you wait!

[Word Count: 1452]

#bnha #bnha bakugou #fantasy au #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia imagines #my hero academia x reader #bnha bakugou x reader

[crowleyellestair]

This feels like the smallest request ever but I have a mighty need for a Geralt (or Jaskier I'm not picky lol) x elf!reader. Maybe something angsty, she gets attacked or threatened and it gets to her more than usual. I dunno really, you're writing is absolutely amazing so I'm sure whatever you come up with will be perfect!

AN/// Sorry this took so long!! I have been swamped with work and life. As a college kid, you gotta make bank as much as possible. Here it is, angst, and I hope you enjoy <3 I hope it is perfect for you : ) I thank you from the bottom of my heart for those kind words : )

   The streets of Novigrad weren’t safe, but the two had decided to galivant through them anyways. It was late, though they thought themselves cautious by traveling through the main roads. Jaskier and Y/n had decided to go out, the She-elf needing to find an anniversary gift for her witcher.

Geralt had met her in his trip to Dol Blathanna, Y/n being his and the bard’s escort out once they had finished their first meeting with Filavandrel. It had been decades ago, the elf starting her travels with them once the witcher had made his way too close to Brokilon looking for work. Elves lead long lives, Geralt sharing a foot of that length with his own unnaturally long span. Elves find love within their own kind, as most others can’t match that time, or they are raised in racist or northern homes. The White Wolf had been dragged unconscious into her life, and sacrificed his neck to worm into her heart. She hadn’t been a Squirrel, but she was a fighter. She was an intermediate guard of the Silver Towers keeper, Filavandrel needing larger guard numbers despite his protests. Y/n had travelled to the forest on mission by the makeshift King to deliver a message to the Dryad Queen. She had recognized the emotion filled grunts, and now she was happy. Well, as happy as she could be in a world where people would spit on herself and her lover just because they exist.

A simple token was all she had wanted, now bigots had her and the bard pinned. Two men had taken each side of Jaskier, continuing their firm grip despite him trying to kick his legs out. He squirmed as much as he could, being a non-violent man putting him at a major disadvantage. Y/n was thrown into an alleyway, three men ducking in behind her. One had taken her satchel, Geralt’s gift and knife in there. One was laughably short for a human, but the other two seemed as though they frequented the fight clubs around the city. Luckily, she couldn’t see any gang indicator, but despite her training, she seemed at a disadvantage as well. The shorter man approached, the elf easily dispatching him.

She slid out of his charging path her hands ghosting the back of his head before placing pressure, and running his head into the wall with all of her strength. Jaskier cheered for her, seemingly just watching along with the two men that held him.

“You lot are messing with the wrong elf! Her ears aren’t the only things that are sharp!” Everyone in the alleyway seemed to stop and turn to look at the man, who rolled his eyes. “It’s not my best, I’ll admit. The point I was trying to show is that she is an amazing fighter, and one should be cautious when approaching.” His tone was smooth and eerie until his chopped end, when the man on his right twisted his arm back painfully to bend him, the only things in his field of vision being the dirt and his legs. The man leaned in, spitting as his voice dripped venom.

“Look a’ faerie here, traipsin’ with ‘e Elf! Lookin’ all high an’ mighty, tryina fit to their ‘higher standards of livin’.” His tone changed to mocking once he started to talk about the stereotype of elves finding themselves higher than man. While it is a true conspiracy, Y/n wasn’t one for superiority. Lives were lives, and she simply wanted to lead hers in peace. The two men on Y/n both started at the elf once more, and hands connected with forearms and faces. She was distracted for a moment when she heard the pained laugh of her good friend.

“Well, it’s certainly better than your company. Have you ever heard of this heavenly thing known as a bath?” The man to his left dropped his arm and kicked his legs out from under him, the other arm that was still being held behind his back stretching painfully as it was still held high. A tight groan left him, and her eyes snapped to him. Rage filled her as the two men started to kick at the bard. She saw red, running at the wall, using leverage to kick off and hit her assailants. It took a moment to take out both, but she soon found her way to the men beating her bard. Y/n quickly brought the first man’s head to her knee, his whole body going into shock as his nose went inward due to the force of the kneeing. The other made his way to her, though she ducked under his arms, kicking out his knee as he passed her. The elf quickly stood, bringing a forceful kick to his eye as he looked back. All the attackers laid on the ground groping one bleeding part or the other.

“Jaskier?! Jaskier, please, speak to me. Are you okay?” Pain and fear enveloped her as she kneeled next to him. Her hand went to brush his hair out of his face as he sat back on his feet. He panted and straightened out his jacket, giving her a tired wink.

“Of course. They got what they deserved and you, my feisty, elvish friend, were marvelous.” Y/n wanted to crack a smile, but guilt clawed at her. She knew how to deal with situations like this, easily making it out unscathed alone. Even with Geralt, things would be okay, knowing that there was light. Geralt was used to being under the microscope as well, but not Jaskier. While he has had a taste just like he had now, he didn’t deserve it. He was a ball of joy- a delight to be around. Simply through association, he was cast out by certain people of his own ilk. Y/n had simply wanted a second opinion on a gift, and in doing so, Jaskier twitched at every breath. It was certain he had bruised ribs, and she tried to help him up as slowly and as gently as possible. The elf grabbed his lute and their bags, throwing them over one shoulder as she threw his arm over her other, helping him back to the inn.

After she had gotten him settled in a hot bath and set up healing ointments, she let herself sit. Geralt had hovered, but didn’t make a sound. Jaskier had breathlessly retold the tale to him, making the elf out as more heroic than the situation had actually brought her to be. The air settled, though it was a tense aura this filled the space. Y/n plopped onto the bed, head in her hands as the witcher shifted in front of her. They sat that way for a couple of breaths before he bent down to one knee in front of her. Both of her hands dropped though one slowed to cover her mouth, her eyes closed.

“I am one thing, but they hurt Jaskier. Simply by walking with me they attacked him.” Geralt’s hand reached out, cupping the back of her knee, his thumb brushing circles over the cap. “I asked him to go. I should have known not to bring him in the open here.”

“You shouldn’t be tied to the inn, either.” His tone was soft, matching her whispers.

“I could have thought it through better! I could have brought cloaks or used glamour-.”

“You don’t need to hide anything.”

“Are you sure? Because not doing so got our friend hurt.” Geralt gave a sigh, matching her gaze when her eyes fluttered open. His other hand came up to her hair, brushing down until it landed at the back of her neck.

“People are cruel.” She simply raised a brow at his statement, but he leaned in. His eyes bore into hers, trying to get a point across. His tone was stern, yet light. “Jaskier is safe.”

“What about next time, Geralt?”

“I can’t tell the future. Though, I know he will be fine in the end. He always will be. We can’t get rid of him, but he knows the risks others bring to our lives. It’s not your fault most humans can’t live with us, and he isn’t going to leave because of them.” Y/n conceded, nodding at his words. She knew people would never stop hating her kind, Jaskier would never leave, and she would never not feel guilty despite being proud of who she is. Y/n would never not be proud, and she shouldn’t have to be painful. Most wouldn’t find the witcher’s words comforting, but she did. He understood completely, and his sympathy was real. She knew she wouldn’t have to go through this world alone this far north, having her lover and friend by her side. “We have each other, and we will protect the man.”

A small smile was shown to him, his statement affirming her thoughts. She wasn’t alone, Geralt always ready to be by her side, no matter what faced them. He brought her head down to his shoulder and help her tight, wishing her peace, and swearing to take down anyone that dared to take her smile away.

#witcher x reader #witcher imagine #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #jaskier imagine

[robertsheehanownsmyass]

The Mists of Culloden -- Part 2

AU!Robert Sheehan x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2099 Warnings: frightening images involving a fire

Welcome to my spooky little four-part story to coincide with my Sheehanoween event! I hope you stick around and check it out, and reblog if you enjoy! :)

Part One

Part Two

The next day, Rob was back at work and you spent a chunk of the afternoon reading a book on the sofa in the sitting room.  The sunshine streamed through the windows, and it was such a lovely autumn day that you couldn’t help but reflect for a moment on how relaxed you felt, and how lucky you were to be cozied up on the couch, just enjoying life. After a while your eyelids started to droop, and you set the book down and stretched, feeling all tension leave your limbs, yawning contentedly. In the light of day, the spooky events of the previous evening seemed distant, and when you reflected on them, they seemed almost silly.  You were still turning the thoughts over in your mind when you dozed off.

It was hot. Blazing hot.  The air was thick with billowing smoke.  The screams of dying men pierced your ears.  It was pitch black and you could see nothing; no source of the heat or smoke, nor the source of the screams. You were running away, but from what? You ran until you reached a stone wall and you felt for a door or a window.  Nothing. You followed the wall until you reached the end, and turned left to follow the perpendicular wall.    You coughed and retched, barely able to breathe.  You followed the wall until your feet bumped some stairs.  You slowly ascended, stumbling blindly, the heat and the smoke worsening as you climbed.  You reached a heavy wooden door that was not fully closed, and you pushed it open.  You gaped in horror at the scene before you. The house was fully engulfed in flames, and you were literally frozen with panic.  There was nowhere to go.  Suddenly, a hand clamped down on your arm from behind you.  You turned, and saw that a woman had grabbed you, and she was shrieking.  "Help me! Heeelp meeee…“  Her hair was on fire and her skin was bubbling in some places and blackening in others.  As you stared at her in terror, one of her eyeballs burst and oozed from a black socket.  You began to scream, and scream and scream….

"Babe! Wake up! Hey!” Rob was shaking you, yelling your name.  You snapped awake, and fell off the couch in a tumble of throw pillows and blankets. You stared up at him for a moment as reality slowly took the place of the terror from your dream.  You were shaking. Rob was kneeling beside you on the ground, alarm painting his beautiful face. He brushed the hair away from your face. “Darlin’, are you okay?”

“Oh god.  Robbie I-- I had the most horrible dream!”

“Jesus darlin’.” He breathed, and sat back on his heels, running a hand through his curls anxiously. “When I walked in you were sound asleep, but then you started thrashing about and-- babe, you started screaming.  It took me a minute to wake you. It scared the shit outta me.“

"It was horrible. I was in some sort of cellar, and it was dark and people were crying and shouting.  I made it upstairs and the whole house was in flames.  Then a woman grabbed me and she was on fire, and I had nowhere to go…and god, she was burning...” You broke off, trembling.

Rob gathered you into his arms. “Oh luv, that sounds awful. It’s over now. It was just a dream. It’s alright.”

“It seemed so real!” you cried, the remnants of the nightmare still at the forefront of your mind.

He peppered your face with kisses and smoothed your hair.  "I’m here now. Everything is okay..“

Rob’s calming effect on you was working, and you began to relax. "I can’t say for sure, but I’m pretty sure it was this house.”

“Oh darlin’, you had that scare last night, so your mind is probably just thinking nasty thoughts. It doesn’t look like there’s been a fire here.”

“I don’t know.” You stood up and scrubbed your face with your hands in an attempt to shake off the dream. “But I really want to find someone who can tell us a bit about this house.”

Rob nodded in agreement.  "We will. We’ll go find someone on my next day off.“

***********************

You spent the evening burying yourself under a protective cover of normalcy, but the dream stayed with you.  You couldn’t stop seeing the burning woman’s face, and you couldn’t keep those screams out of your head.  You sat at the dinner table and began to rub your temples.  Rob had finished clearing the supper dishes and came around to hug you. 

"You’re thinking so loudly I can almost hear you,” he said into your hair.  "You shouldn’t dwell on it too much.  Old houses have a way of getting under your skin.  Shit– Scotland can get under your skin.“

That surprised you.  "I thought you loved Scotland.”

“I do,” he said.  "But there is so much tragic history here, especially here at Culloden. Plus the weather can be moody and the landscape can seem pretty bleak.  It’s like there is a veil of melancholy that is barely perceptible, but it’s everywhere.“

You nodded, understanding.  You recalled your stop in Edinburgh before continuing north to the highlands, and your visit to Mary King’s Close; the underground passageway where plague victims were left to die like rats, and you shuddered at the memory.  But that was only one example; Scotland had been a place of persecution and sadness for over a millennia.

"When I was a kid,” Rob continued, “I would come to Scotland to visit some cousins from time to time. There were always ghost stories, and the subject wasn’t considered very taboo like it is in other places.  It was generally accepted.”

“Is Ireland very different, though?” you smiled.  You loved hearing Robbie reminisce, and when he spoke of his memories the present seemed to fall away as he reinhabited those old thoughts.

“Believe it or not, yes.  We all hear the stories about the bansidhe or banshees, or of faeries that would steal babies.  And yeah, Ireland has its sprawling manors and castles that have ghosts of their own.  But there’s something different about Scotland.”

“Yeah, I think I see what you mean now,” you said.

Rob studied you for a moment before commenting.  "I don’t like the idea of you being here alone so much.  Maybe tomorrow you should get out a bit.  Go to Inverness and do some shopping.  Have lunch on Loch Ness and look for the monster.“

You laughed.  "That’ll be great for my mental state.  Flee a haunted house to look for a legendary lake monster.”

Rob smirked.  "Hey, do what you have to do.  They’re both nearby.  You liked those Outlander novels so much, go look for standing stone circles.“

"Alright, alright,” you chuckled.  "I’ll try to get out tomorrow.“

*****************************

That night you slept rather uneasily.  Despite Rob’s efforts to wear you out (you joked to him afterward that you suspected he had fractured your pelvis), you tossed and turned.  You continued to torture yourself with horrifying images from your dream, and your mind seemed to be afraid of shutting down for fear of revisiting the gruesome past.  

Despite the fact that you were groggy and out of sorts the following day, you took Rob’s advice and hired a car to take you to Inverness.  You walked the cobblestone streets, poked into shops and bookstores, and enjoyed a delicious cafe lunch. It was a  lovely city.  On the way home, you asked the driver to detour south to Loch Ness.  You walked down to a section of the rocky shore and sat for a while.  While you didn’t see a monster, it was a beautiful place and the water calmed you.

On the way back, you stopped at Clava Cairn, a standing stone circle and cairn a bit southeast of Culloden, and probably served as the inspiration for the stone circle in the books you enjoyed.  The site was deserted, and you were free to stroll among the 4000 year-old stones, gently touching them, relishing in the connection between the present and the distant past.  Despite the fact that the central cairn was a burial site, you felt no sadness there, only peace.

You returned home feeling refreshed and rejuvenated.  Rob came home shortly afterward, and you told him all about your day.  He was thrilled that you had taken his advice and had such a nice time.  Your lightened mood lasted the rest of the evening, and that night you slept soundly.

The next two days passed without incident.  Rob promised to take you to Culloden moor on his next day off, and the two of you set off after breakfast.  The battlefield was a short 20 minute walk away, and you strolled hand-in-hand, enjoying the crisp air.  The battlefield itself was a sobering place, and when you first laid eyes on it you felt a pang of sadness.

"I know,” Rob said, reading your expression.  “This ground is seeped with loss and grief.”

He led you to the Visitor’s Centre, where a friendly middle-aged woman looked up over a pair of reading glasses as you entered.

“Hallo there,” she said and smiled kindly.

“Hello,” said Rob.  "We were hoping you could give us some information about a house we’re staying in, just up the road.“

"Ah, you’ll be here for the film then. I’m Peggy.”

"It’s lovely to meet you Peggy,” you said.  "We’re the Sheehans. We’re staying at the house just up the road; number 129.“

"Och aye, I know that place,” she said. “Quite a bit of history there.”

“Really? Is there anything you can tell us about it?” Rob asked.

Peggy nodded.  "I believe the current structure was built around 1780.“

"The current structure?” Rob replied. “There was a house there before?”

“Aye,” she said.  "There was an older house there before, but it burned.  The newer house was built upon the foundation of the previous dwelling.“

You blanched and Rob glanced at you, shocked.  Peggy smiled.

"I take it the old ghosts are acting up?” she asked.

“Ghosts?” you replied.

“Aye, everyone knows the place is haunted.  You wouldna be the first people to come round here asking about it.”

“What happened there?” asked Rob.

She shook her head sadly. “Terrible things.  After the battle here in 1746, the house was where a number of surviving Jacobite rebels sought refuge.  It didna take long for the English to hunt them down.  They actually promised the rebels safe-haven if they surrendered, only to line them up and shoot them after they exited the house.  Many were too badly wounded to exit on their own, and some just didna trust the soldiers, so they hid in the cellar.  The English barred the doors and set fire to the house, where everyone inside either burned alive or died from the smoke. The woman who owned the house and was aiding the rebels perished with the rest.”

You gasped, and Rob covered his mouth with his hands. “That’s horrifying,” you said.  "Those poor people.“

"Aye,” Peg said.  "Such was life for the Scots after the defeat. It continued for many years. The English punished them severely for the uprising, even people who had nothing to do wi’ it. The English werna interested in blame– they were making a point. They wanted to show all of Scotland what happened to people who dared challenge their authority.“ 

“I hope you don’t think I’m crazy,” you said. “But on our first night there, I saw a figure on the front lawn. It scared me half to death.”

“Aye, that must have been a shock,” she said sympathetically. “I canna say one way or another that you saw a spirit, but it doesna seem unlikely. Strange things have happened round here for as long as I can remember.”

You exchanged a look with your husband.  What were you supposed to do with that?

You thanked Peggy for the information with as much composure you could muster, and left the visitor center numb with shock. You grabbed Rob’s arm the moment you were out of earshot. “What the fuck?” you hissed. “My dream. All the weird shit. What is going on?”

“I dunno,” he said. “But I do know that I don’t want you staying there alone.” He hugged you close, and you could feel that his body was tense with worry. “We’re in this together; filming be damned. We’ll figure this out.”

(gif source) Part Three Tag list. Ask me to be added! @thisisarobertsheehanblog​ @joz-stankovich​ @robert-sheehan​

#robert sheehan character fic #sheehanoween #mists of culloden #robert sheehan x reader #robert sheehan fanfic #halloween #spooky story

[ktheist]

wizard’s oath [2]

synopsis. instead of dancing with jungkook at the party, you end up dancing around the mercenaries that decided to infiltrate your village tonight of all night.

muses. wizard!jungkook x dragonslayer!reader x knight!jimin

words. 1.9k

chapters. previous | next

x

“one night,” you sigh, shaking your head, “i decide to leave my sword at home for just one night and that’s when the best mercenaries come to gather in our village for an illegal faery smuggling.”

the muted pleas of the winged creatures almost drown from the boisterous yelling and laughing of the group of men in the streets. subdued light shines from underneath the poorly blanketed boxes in the cart, no doubt cages where they keep the captured faeries.

“don’t worry, ___.” jimin smiles, brown pupils disappearing beneath his crescent shaped eyes, “i’ll protect you.”

he raises the silver sword in his hand, the royal family’s dragon crest peeking from his grip on the handle.

“no, you won’t need to protect her.” jungkook chirps in heatedly from your other side, “because that’s my job.”

“as i recall, ___ wouldn’t put her trust on magic to save her life,” the smile, if anything, widens just the tiniest bit, “just an observation, of course.”

before the wizard can form another retort - and you know you’ll never see the end of this if you don’t put a stop to it, you quickly speak over the hushed silence, meeting the eyes of the villagers that are cramped in old hedrick’s slightly-smaller-than a villa abode.

“don’t worry everyone, these two may appear unreliable but one is the king’s personal knight and the other is the brightest wizard of the century.” you offer them a tight smile, not because you don’t believe what came out of your mouth but because it’s the absolute, honest truth yet they are doing nothing to assure the people of their capabilities than argue who to play knight in shining armor.

if we’re talking about technicalities, then technically, jimin is exactly that.

“fear no more! i shall put a stop to the atrocities happening right in the streets of our homes.” jungkook rises from the ground, hands planted on either sides of his hips but it’s short lived when you pull him back down to hide underneath the window you’ve been peeking through.

“stay down. we don’t know if they have any enchantments or if there are dark wizards among them.” you hiss underneath your breath.

it’s a moment later that you hear a grating voice call from outside, “you there! hiding in that hideous house! come out!”

old hedrick looks like he’s about to leap out and prance at whoever insulted his home - the only thing stopping him is your hard stare that makes him cower behind his second wife.

“let’s go.” you’re the first to rise to your feet, patting off the dust from your dress that your sisters almost got into a fight about when choosing what color would match your eyes.

“stay close to me.” jungkook murmurs under his breath from next to you while jimin lets out a brief laugh just before you stop a good ten feet away from the men who seem to stiffen at the sight of jimin.

“what’s so funny?” the same man whose called you out steps forward, eyes burning holes inside jimin’s chest where the ghost of the dragon lies upon his armor, “you think you’re so tough? huh, knight?”

“no, not at all.” the aforementioned knight shakes his head, a cheeky smile adorning his features, “but supposedly, the wizard does.”

and just like that, all eyes fall on jungkook. “wizard, huh?” the man grins, golden tooth and all.

“y-yeah. you know it’s illegal to capture to magifolks, right?” he starts off with a stutter but takes one brave step forward, “if you walk away now, i’ll let you off the hook this once.”

they burst into laughter, almost as though it was a baby who said such threats.

“i’d probably believe that nice lady you’re with if she said that than you, boy.” the man towers over in laughter, slapping his knee.

“will you?” you ask in the midst of the subsiding humor.

“what?” one of them questions while swiping a tear off the corner of his eye.

“walk away. if i told you to.” you don’t know if it’s the ice cold tone you’re using or if it’s the way to stare at them, but their shoulder line begin to straighten as each of them begin to size you up.

“why don’t you come here and whisper it to my ear, yeah?” the man’s lecherous grin returns but there’s a sort of restraint that tells you he’s no longer perceiving you as the damsel in distress.

for one, there isn’t a single line of frustration on your forehead.

“oh, i wouldn’t do that if i were you.” jimin warns them but it’s already too late. you’re already walking in a straight line towards the man and before you know it, a familiar heat courses through your veins, focusing in the fist that you’re swigging towards the man.

a loud crack cuts through the night as the man’s gold tooth falls on his lap as he slouches against the broken wood of the card. for a moment, everyone and everything stands still.

“too late to walk away now.” you nonchalantly inform, meeting the eyes of the mercenaries one by one.

the first warrior-cry breaks through the night as one of them charges at you with a dagger, loomed with the shadow of the dark arts. you step aside, tripping your attacker and sending him leaping across the ground, right in front of jimin’s polished metal shoes.

you catch the man’s devious grin before he hits your attacker’s head with the hilt of his sword, sending the man unconscious. it’s then that they begin to charge all at once, bearing weapons much sinister than the last. jungkook helps thwart the weapons out of their hands so you can beat them to a bloody pulp with your own two hands without having to be wary of the enchanted daggers and swords grazing you.

they soon learn that they have to go for the wizard in the back to actually dismantle you and jimin.

“a little help here!” jungkook yells over the throng of mercenaries out to kill him.

“bit busy!” jimin yells back somewhere a few feet away,driving the hilt of his sword in the face of one of the mercenaries that was charging at him when he had his back on him “and quite literally, don’t care if you die!”

you shake your head at their banter, piling up your own body counts, ducking and sending blow strong enough to knock them out at once. it’s some time after your 13th hit that a morning star misses you by a inch.

the wielder is burlier and taller than the average men and sports a nastier frown as he gazes down at you like an annoying little fire ant that refuses to go down.

“___, catch!” jimin calls for you, just before he tosses you his sword and uses the same hand he’d held the sword to sucker punch the man who’s halfway blacked out as he claws at jimin’s wrist to release his shirt.

“thanks!” you grin when you feel the solidity of the dragon engraved handle and measure its likely weight with your own elven sword.

the burly man grunts when he misses you again by a hair’s breadth. eye twitching when you gesture for him to come to you with your free hand. when he does, you go for his forearm, slashing the sword through it and sending the weapon skidding on the ground while he growls in pain, clutching onto his decapitated arm. the heat warms up your entire body as you leap forward, smashing the hilt of the sword into his face, knocking him out.

“___, are you okay?” jungkook’s wide, round eyes are captures your own for a split second before they wander to your tattered dress, inspecting if there was any wounds.

before you can even say anything, his arms band around you and traps you in a bone-crushing hug. you have to take twice to make sure it’s still the same wizard that’s watched you slay dragons for the last seven years.

“i’m fine. the dark magic infused in their weapons weakened my powers a bit but i’m not all brawn, you know?” you chuckle, patting his back with your free hand while your other still grips jimin’s sword a little too tightly.

somewhere behind jungkook, you hear someone clear their throat. the wizard appears to be less perplexed when he turns around to face old hedrick and the rest of the villagers that poured out of their homes upon your victory.

the priest approaches you with a grateful smile, “dragon slayer and wizard, you have our humblest gratitude.” then he gestures for jimin to come closer and he does, sending you a cheeky grin when he stops to stand next to you, “you too, knight. there is evil lurking in every shadow but the three of you are what makes the world a better place.”

“it was part of my duty.” jimin lowers his head, arm crossed over his chest while you shift your weight on your feet.

“i just live here so.” you shrug.

it’s jungkook that steps forth, enjoying the fame and attention, “as long as i, your friendly neighborhood wizard, and my dragon slayer sidekick,” he gestures to you before announcing with his whole chest, “are around, you have nothing to fear. it is my wizard’s oath.”

you join the bouts of cheers and applause from the villagers, shaking your head at his antics. less inclined to worship a magical entity the way they begin to crowd him like an ant crowding a cube of sugar, you disappear into the shadows where you know the familiar route will take you back to your home. but before you get far, jimin falls into pace with you, his metal armor clacking in the dark.

“allow me to walk you home, my lady.” with the sources of dark magic gone, you’re able to use your powers to see his cheeky grin even in the dark.

“ladies don’t wield swords like a savage.” you remark, returning your own grin.

“they come in many forms.” he replies too smoothly, “but they all bleed blue.”

you feel your body freeze, step coming to a stop. “how do you-”

“the prince,” he offers, as though it’s the answer you’re looking for before he continues, “sends his invitation to you for dinner in three night’s time. that’s what i came here to tell you before the mercenaries begin to pour in.”

he doesn’t ask for your permission when he slips his hand under your stone cold one, bringing it to his lips. your tongue is tied but your throat itches to say something - to ask more about the dinner but before you can, you hear jungkook calling you not too far away and when you look back to where the knight is supposed to be, all you see is darkness.

“i can’t believe you’re leaving me to go home when we promised to watch the stars together.” jungkook huffs, lips pursed just the slightest bit.

“jungkook, how well do you know the prince?” you finally say after breaking away from your stupor.

“the prince?” he blinks, the remnants of his sulking now disappeared into thin air, “he’s a spoiled brat. whenever i get hired to escort him to one of his crusades, all he does is boast about anything and everything to the royal families whose castle we were staying at.” the wizard scrunches his nose, as though willing a bad memory away. “why?”

“he just invited me to dinner.” you inform, watching as his facial complexion drop and his hands grip your shoulders tightly.

“you can’t - mustn't go, ___.”

x

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook fic #networkbangtan #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook #bts #jungkook au #bts au #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts jungkook #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook scenarios #excerpt from a fic i'll never write #wizard!jungkook #dragonslayer!reader #knight!jimin

[rosiethorns88]

Queen of Nothing Thoughts / Reflection on the Series

Many people are asking me, so I’m pooling them here. I’m not a writer or a reviewer, just a reader. :)

SPOILERS AHEAD:

First, an expectation summary:

- Overall, the book hit all of my high notes and succeeded in its story telling to me, personally. Holly has a pattern with climax building reflected in all three of her books that I really enjoy as a reader. There are shocking moments about two-thirds of the way in each book that feel like climaxes, but after the sudden burst and fall out, it slowly builds up again to another and greater peak. I find the early upsets and expanded conclusions of the final acts to be really satisfying to unfold, page by page. Cardan and Jude are two fascinating characters and the friction their personalities cause with one another make for some satisfying sparks. The whole cast of characters are colorful and the world building is rich, and I enjoyed the escapism the entire series brought to me with each visit.

- I was completely satisfied with the pacing, because it worked for the story at hand. Madoc was making his move and allies from all over Faerie were seeing Cardan’s control over his court wane in his wake. Both Jude and Cardan had to move and move fast to get themselves in a position of defense. In fact, the one act that I feared may have dragged on the longest, Jude’s ‘entrapment’ at the camp, actually moved forward quite quickly and kept my interest once Grimsen and the Ghost entered the mix. To spend time tying up every frayed thread with other non-player characters before the end would have lessened the urgency of story’s impending conflicts. Let’s get Jude and Cardan settled and to their honeymoon first before we chat about Nicasia’s love woes over tea.

- The Jurdan reunion was great, I love how it reflects the previous books with them having to first play act with each other again. Though I was hoping for it to last a bit longer with Cardan stringing Jude along in her disguise. I was really excited for Jude to play switch-a-roo as Taryn, but didn’t expect it to end so suddenly. It would have been a great call back to the circumstance of Cardan’s being tricked at the end of The Wicked King.

- The fact the Cardan was so involved with Jude’s runarounds: the rescue attempt from the palace, the actual rescue from the camp, his tag-alongs with her questing. It made all of their interactions very satisfying as it was expanding beyond the verbal throw-downs they only had before. I’ve seen many people complain there were not enough Jurdan scenes, but y’all. We barely had a breath of their interactions from the 1st and 2nd books compared to QoN. I was thoroughly pleased.

- The fact that Cardan indulges in Jude’s political nature and wears it proudly like a brooch when he’s addressing his court. He’s basically like, “I’m here to be my witty and sarcastic self; she’s here to be her just and vicious self. We complete each other.”

- CARDAN REUNITES WITH HIS DOOR! This was my favorite reunion scene as it was one of the many world building elements I enjoyed from the first book. Cardan’s playful and endearing greeting to his door at Hallow Hall was such a thought provoking element - I could only imagine as he grew up at the hall, he had little things or persons to befriend. And with the revelation of Cardan sneaking out human servants in the night, it makes sense he could get away with it with this unique friendship. I’m so glad this was a payoff.

- Madoc - I love Madoc. SO MUCH. He’s such a rich character, it’s so hard to call him morally grey when his character is so colorfully rich. Every chapter I either put an extra tick on his ‘I hate you so much’ or ‘I love you so much’ tally. He’s so true to his nature as a red cap, yet still so loving and caring for his family. He truly shows his hurt and conflict in his anger towards Jude after he finds she has betrayed or outwitted him. I reflect back to The Cruel Prince, when Jude was reminiscing how she and Madoc would play a board game of strategy (like chess) and have to interrupt it. All day, Jude would think about her possible moves and his possible moves, so when they returned to the game, the entire strategy had changed. This is how they interacted all through out the novel. Every thought and move was predicted, then challenged, then overturned before they could even meet face to face again. It’s amazing how there are no villains or heroes in this story; Jude and Madoc’s conflict were just an ever spinning tornado of their own morals and loyalties and ideals.

- Ghost & Taryn redeemed! I must admit, I was completely shaken by the Ghost’s betrayal in TWK, and did not expect him to be a redeemable character, though I did expect him to be involved somehow. I’m a little less satisfied with how quickly Taryn changed her spots back, especially with the build up from The Lost Sisters novella, and wish that Locke wasn’t killed off-screen. I can believe what she said happened, and that she was unhappy with the situation, but for it all to be delivered in one sitting as a monologue, it didn’t sink in for me for a while. I didn’t expect to have a redeeming arc for either of them, nor expect hints at their possible relationship, but it all fell into place nicely. At the end, I felt that the Ghost deserved to have his freedom, and that Taryn was appropriate to hold him to it.

- The Bomb and The Roach! I was happy for them to find their happily ever after, but Noooooo I didn’t want the Roach to be fridged! The Roach x The Bomb x Jude x Cardan interactions produce the best lines in the entire series and I was super sad to see the Roach exit so early. But from the little we received, it was a delight.

- Nicasia, Valerian (his curse), Locke - to me these three didn’t have the conclusions I was hoping for, but there may be open lore left to explore for Holly. I do understand why others insist that the last book be split into two and expanded upon, but the book was sharply focused on Jude and Cardan’s predicaments. Nicasia, Valerian and Locke all had unfinished stories and conflicts with both of them, but they were past issues that weren’t actively affecting the plot, and so I wasn’t troubled by their absence. But I’m hoping short stories or expanded lore in other Holly-verse novels may touch upon them.

- Vivi / Heather - This side plot got a little more attention than I expected, even though I didn’t appreciate the decisions both Vivi and Heather made (just as Jude didn’t).  I was actually expecting Heather to take the route that she did, but just a little bit further than where she ended up. I love that she went completely Hermione on the group, but really wasn’t helpful in the end (which is ok). However, I think the true recourse for Heather’s involvement was intended solely for Vivi. By Heather experiencing Faerie a second time with the expectations of the terrors it offered, she was able to see other facets of the world Vivi has ties too, which is why she gave Vivi the second chance to reintroduce it to her in a better light.

- Oak / Oriana -  I find Oriana such a delight as a character, but I don’t know why I always forget she exists until she appears on page. Which is appropriate, as she makes herself seen and be heard when she wants to. I love how helicopter parent she is with Jude even though she’s made it clear that she barely tolerates their familial ties. Still, her ability to parry Jude’s rebellious and un-lady-like behavior with her witty retorts gave us some of my favorite scenes from the previous books, and I enjoyed their brief reunion under the same circumstances at the camp. Oak, on the other hand I felt was underused as a character, and instead, justifiably used as a political object. Oak and Oriana’s relationship made for an interesting divisiveness between Team Madoc and Team Jude, that I think was an important factor, but ultimately Oak didn’t have much to do in decision makings in the QoN like he did in TCP. However, I feel this is because his character arc begins at the end of this novel with the new character ex-Queen Suren. And whether or not that story makes it onto a page, I can accept that his story was left open-ended to begin here.

Regarding Jude:

I think it’s important to highlight Jude’s development with her feelings toward Cardan - specifically with her reaction toward her exile. I wouldn’t say she’s an unreliable narrator, more so, she’s an unreliable romantic. Jude is the ‘DON’T Notice Me Senpai’ main character who throws red flags up for every action Cardan does.

A very popular theory about Cardan’s exile was that Jude would be able to pardon herself since she is part of the crown as queen. When that turned out to be true, I saw a lot of disappointment from readers with the obviousness of it - but that’s because it was obvious to ourselves, and it always has been. Cardan’s wordplay is a defining trait for his character and there have been several scenes where we the reader are completely in the know when he’s doing it and are charmed by it right along with Jude. During the exiling, Jude is not in the know and is blinded at first by her stupor as a newly wed and then later with her doubt in Cardan’s feelings for her as she flat out admits to herself that the crown pardon could be a loop hole.

This is what makes the rose garden scene such a great turning point - because they both realized they fooled each other without knowing it and are both distressed by each other’s reaction. Their trust in each other was becoming more brittle as it grew, until they realized they both could no longer play their old schemes against each other without risking that trust breaking.

All throughout, Jude has been judging and second guessing everything he does while she scrambles across this political chess board. Deny his feelings, manipulating her own feelings, pushing and pulling and advancing further to the top before her desire for power and her desire for Cardan meet at the peak. And here, between the possibility of losing the power she gained or condemning the feelings she found, is when she finally has to make that choice for herself, when she had viable reasons to go either way. With the way she struggled for both, she earned that right to choose.

Favorite moments / quotes:

- Cardan flinching at Jude’s indirect confession while she was disguised as Taryn - and Jude wholly unaware of the implications.

- Cardan relishing in his cleverness about the exile, while Jude is like WTF and they’re completely clueless about each other’s reaction until in the later rose garden scene. - Cardan’s ‘Jude, DON’T!’ - seriously, listen to the audiobook, you can hear the fear in his voice as his murder wife runs off to battle. And because we the readers can hear that fear, while Jude doesn’t, makes it more heart breaking.

- Madoc alluding to Jude (as Taryn) about Cardan’s berserk mode when he tried to prevent Jude’s capture at the palace. And of course, Jude denying it (psh)

- Cardan doing the grunt work in Jude’s camp rescue, and getting socked in the stomach for it - hah! And of course, The Roach preening he warned him.

- Cardan subconsciously protecting Jude from the arrow trap

- Jude scaring off a faerie guard with mortal menstruation.

- “Do not touch her. She is my wife.”

- How LONG have I waited for Cardan to finally witness how much Jude mutilates her body from her fights, and then for him care for her himself in his bed was just an extra mountain of whipped cream with sprinkles on top. (remember, she hid from him her hand stabbing, her self-poisoning, her leg injury from Locke’s attack, the details of Valerian’s attempt to murder her TWICE, the details of her torturous time in the undersea, etc. Let him know your WOES, woman! Y’all need to cash in some empathy points!)

- Jude having no choice but to wear Cardan’s clothes

- SLAP

- “Maybe he’d like to hear me scream.” exchange. And the hair touch!

- MY DOOR!

- The Ghost spider scrambling up the wall towards Cardan, and Taryn whiplashing him. Poor baby!

- Cardan intrigued by Slushies and Gummy Worms

- Cardan privately reprimanding Randalin about Jude and him scurrying out of the room in a panic. WHAT WAS SAID? CARDAN WAS SMILING.

- Freakin Cardan confessing and cutting her off at the door.

- Jude taking the time to panic, to mourn and to plan after the transformation. I felt giving too much haste toward a ‘Disney-true-love-spell-breaking ending’ would have ruined the direness of Cardan’s sacrifice.

- That fingers-digging-into-her-back hug.

- Tight pants, t-shirt and a Lopsided paper crown.

#queen of nothing #spoilers #queen of nothing spoilers #qon spoilers #qon #the queen of nothing #holly black #the folk of the air #cardan #tfota #jurdan

[elmidol]

The Shackles of Fate - Nine

Dark Faerie Tale AU

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Kylo x Reader; Ben x Reader

Warnings: shorter chapter; some blood/bloodconsumption/bloodplay

The Shackles of Fate

Nine

 Since his proclamation that he would gather the Knights of Ren--who, if you were to be perfectly honest, you were nervous to meet--Kylo had been relatively silent. There was no discussion held as to whether or not it would be safe for you to return to the home in which you worked. Far too many unknown factors existed. Resting was top of your list of tasks to accomplish, and so you broke away from the dark faerie to walk under a tall tree. You all but collapsed once you arrived. The amount of physical activity that your body had forced to complete during the night was nothing entirely new, however it had been quite some time since such exertions were a necessity. You set a hand on your forehead, closed your eyes, and fought off the urge to fall asleep. The world felt as though it tilted, rocking back and forth like a ship on the sea.

 Footsteps alerted you to Kylo’s approach. You did not reopen your eyes even as his leg then arm brushed against you. His hand found your stomach, and it felt as though all air had been siphoned out of your lungs. Your eyelids slowly rose, your gaze switching to his face. His eyebrows were knitted in concentration. He patted along your stomach, his touch growing nearer and nearer to where Ben slumbered. The helmet that he possessed was sitting on the ground not a foot away. You batted at his limb, a scowl forming on your face as you huffed with indignation. Why was it, you wondered, he believed that he could invade your personal space as he did? Kylo pulled his hand back--only for it to shoot forward and pin your shoulder against the tree.

 His face was in yours, the tip of his nose touching your own. You held your breath, waiting, wondering what it was that he planned to do. Blood seeped into your cheeks. Heart pounding in your chest and ears, you lowered your eyes to look at his lips. “When are you going to answer my questions?” It surprised you, the fact that you had been able to speak at all. That you had asked the question instead of stuttering out nonsense, that was a bonus.

 “Knowledge can be a burden.” That was no lie, however it was an evasion. You touched the hand that remained on your shoulder, allowing yourself the chance to feel him through his glove. To have this contact now that your life and soul were not in immediate danger. The thread that connected the pair of you swung back and forth with every minor movement that you made. The guardedness with which he carried himself had increased since before he had fought side by side with his lighter half. “You aren’t afraid of me.”

 You well understood the confusion given your previous reactions to him. More and more you were growing comfortable with his presence, his touch. With him. You wanted that contact. Longed to know him beyond this fight for your soul. There were flickers of vulnerability in his eyes if one looked deeply enough. It was unlikely that many were granted such opportunities to even try.

 Muscles tired and aching from the physical exertions endured over the course of the night, it was all too easy to collapse against him. Your shoulder brushed along his, your head tilted back invitingly. Kylo did not ignore the offer. He touched his lips to yours, initially with such a lightness that it felt as though feathers were caressing you. Then he applied more pressure, moved into the kiss. You lifted your hands to cup his face, your elbows touching his collarbone to keep him from leaning too much into the kiss; you remained aware of Ben slumbering in your pocket and had no desire for him to be squished. The first kiss transformed into another. Kylo’s hunger grew, yet so did your own. You felt his tongue pushing forward, demanding to taste you, and you allowed him to deepen the kiss. His attraction to you was one question that he never failed to answer.

 Only when you needed air did you pull away. Kylo allowed you to do so, his eyes in motion so that he could drink in your features beginning with your face before shifting lower. “I could speculate the imp’s motivations, but that would only hinder us.” The words caught you off guard, which made the process of understanding why he said them longer. As it dawned on you that Kylo had answered a question you had asked during the ordeal with the red armored demons, you felt a sense of gratitude. He more often kept his thoughts to himself, and so to include you meant that he respected you more than he had prior to the night’s events. “The Knights of Ren will unveil the truth.” You were less afraid to hear him speak of those mysterious beings from the tales you had been told for years.

 “Tell me about them?” You ensured that the words came off as a question rather than a demand, aware that he might be more likely to entertain you this way.

 “You will learn in time.” The nonanswer jerked you back to reality, to the awareness that this faerie would not so easily hand over information unless he felt like doing so. You resisted the urge to argue, an urge that was not as powerful as it had previously been. There would be other routes to learn what it was that you sought. “You will arrive at the wrong conclusion.”

 It was so endearing, his lack of faith in you. You waved a hand in the air to dismiss his negativity while running through lessons that you had received while younger and more that you had overheard from Governess Tico. The Knights of Ren that served under the dark faerie prince assisted him in stealing the souls of others. Details beyond that fell into the category of speculation. You could not think of any stories that starred the Knights of Ren that served under Kylo after he had fallen to Snoke.

 “Are they worse than the demon king’s guards?”

 “They are more powerful,” he conceded before elaborating, “when the proper ritual is completed to grant them entrance to this realm.” You pinched your lips into a thin line and shot Kylo a stern look that you generally kept for when you scolded one of the children when they acted up. It had no effect on him.

 Yet you knew well what might, and so you pushed forward again and placed your mouth atop his. He stiffened underneath you, as though he were readying himself to go on the defensive. Slowly, gently, you bent at a new angle to ghost your lips along his jawline. Kylo shuddered, the trembling in his body preceding a shift in his hand. The limb shot towards you. His fingers were arched as they landed on your hip, his thumb biting into your flesh though not causing you enough pain that you wished to stop.

 “You are so sure of yourself.” His murmured words did make you pause. You hummed, meeting his gaze, which was filled with unconcealed hunger. Memories stirred with you of that first night with him, of how his tongue had felt on you, in you. The way he had hinted that to cross over his threshold with you in his arms would have meant something more. Was that merely on a carnal level? Or did it indicate something intimate in another fashion?

 You touched your fingers to his chin, asking yourself how far you would go with him. Not only for answers. This connection that you felt, it ran deep. Since before the braided threads had appeared, you had known that you were bound to Kylo. He had spared your soul, and that had to count for something. This was more than simply a means of freeing himself from Snoke, it had to be. You refused to believe otherwise.

 The succubus’s temptations rang in your ear. Ben’s reluctance to indulge did not sting; that Kylo--here you reminded yourself that this was his true name, and what that meant--had not wanted to resist, that drove you forward. You pressed your body to his, claimed his mouth with your own. Moving onto his lap, you felt his erection against your inner thigh. Kylo grunted when you ground down into him. He grabbed onto your hips with both of his hands and this time his thumbs did dig into you hard enough that you winced and broke the kiss while ceasing your actions. You stretched, your chest near his face, and set the heels of your hands against the front of his shoulders.

 “Are you willing to give me your blood?”

 You wondered both what he wanted it for and what offering such a thing would mean in the long term. “Yes.” This question, the fact that your answer was true, solidified what you had already begun to accept. “I trust you with my life, my soul.” One of his hands began to move. It crawled up your body, along your stomach and to your breast, where it paused, toying with you. Kylo rolled your nipple in a circle before continuing upwards. He hooked his thumb into your mouth, which you had opened without any need for a command. You sucked on the digit. Enjoyed the way his eyes became partially hooded.

 Kylo ran his tongue along his teeth, the act visible to you without any obstacles. You understood what he wanted then, the previous hint having been obscured by the lust clouding your gaze. Instead of your thumb, it was your first and middle finger that you slipped past his lips and set upon his teeth. You had felt them with your tongue when the two of you had kissed, however they were suddenly more threatening, sharper. That or awareness of what was to come had your senses heightened. Heart hammering in your chest, you knew that your pupils had widened in anticipation of pain that was not swift in arriving.

 He applied pressure only to relent. Your jaw, too, had moved against the thumb that was held captive. You loosened your hold. Heat wormed through your body.

 The world was in motion, spinning, and you blinked then stared up at the sky before switching your attention back to his face as you adjusted to the new position. Laid upon the ground, you placed your free hand on his stomach to keep Ben from being crushed and spread your legs as his hips rocked forward. His hard cock pushed against your clothed cunt. You were growing wet, slick, even as he bit down and drew blood from your fingers. You released a small cry of pain that devolved into a hiss then moan. The wounds were not deep. Four teeth marks released blood, which dripped onto your face. You blinked, turned your head to keep from getting any in your eyes.

 Kylo seized the wrist of your captive fingers, jerking your arm to remove the bloodied digits from his mouth. As though he had to literally force himself to do so. Your eyebrows rose then knit towards one another at the thought. Did your blood taste different than a full blooded human’s? Or would he hunger for any blood at all? Whatever the case, it was clear to you that he did not aim to consume the liquid. It was something--would this be darker, you wondered, than eating you? To do blood magic, which demons were known to adore, spoke clearly of the nature of the Knight, or Knights, of Ren that would be summoned.

 “It’s only going to be my blood, correct?” It was by luck that the shaking of his head went unmissed. Adrenaline shot through your veins, and you began to push yourself up. Kylo shoved you flat against the ground and spread his wings, blocking the fading stars from view.

 It felt as though all air had been siphoned out of your lungs. You stared with wide eyes at his outstretched wings. “Shh.” Not kindly, though not cruelly either. A demand for your silence, one that you obeyed. Kylo tugged his thumb, the one that had left your mouth when you had spoken, into his mouth and bit down on it just as he had done to your fingers. Blood trickled past his lips, reddening their surface until his tongue flicked out to draw the substance in. You marveled at its sight, its smell.

 Faerie blood possessed a stronger scent, one that was sweet and crisp. It enraptured your mind, bringing to you a sense of calm so that you merely tilted back your head to expose your neck for his teeth when Kylo leaned down. His nose skimmed your flesh before his mouth sealed on the offered skin. This time he did not bite you, although had he done so you would not have been disappointed or angry. He traced his bloodied thumb under your nose and smeared some of it on your upper lip. The sweetness of it made you shudder, had you flicking out your tongue to taste it, to taste him. This was not what blood should taste like, a part of you said. Yet you did not care.

 You cupped his wrist and drew his thumb back to your mouth, whereupon you puckered your lips and kissed the wound. More blood stained your lips then your tongue. A pinch at your throat was the first indication that he meant to bleed you more. You re-angled yourself again to give him easier access, aware of how delicate an area he was working with. Kylo rolled his hips, rocking against your thigh.

 “Oh…” If you asked him for more, what would he do? Spill more of your blood? Give you more of his? Or would he undress you, touch you? Would he allow you to touch him? “I want that.”

 The stinging pain on your neck increased, and you felt the wetness of your blood and his saliva combining upon its surface. Kylo dragged his bloodied hand down your body until he could cup between your legs. He murmured words you did not catch. When all you released was a sigh, he spoke again. “There are limits to how far we can venture before the consequences damn us.”

 From your understanding of the warning, sex was off the table. That did not include oral, if that first night was anything to go off of. He had tasted you in so many ways, had allowed you to sample his blood. This night, at his own pace, Kylo was in a giving mood. And you were willingly greedy for more, to take advantage of this version of kindness. You moved your hand to cup him in return, toying with his cock through the material of his pants. It twitched against your palm, making your mouth water more than it already had.

 “I may have to bite you again to renew the supply of blood.” You nodded, accepting these consequences as a result of your choice. “Very well.”

#kylo ren x reader #ben x reader #theshacklesoffate #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren smut #faerie tale au

[celestialwhoree]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 '𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝' 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The Celestialwhoree 2k follower special

King Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Faerie Reader

A white horse

A gilded cage

#celestialwhoree #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #king ghost #king Simon Riley #Simon Riley x reader #faerie reader #king ghost x faerie reader #cod au #foreigner's god #2k special #cod mw2 #cod #tf 141 #call of duty #simon riley #ghost x reader #Simon Ghost Riley x reader #Simon Riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x f!reader #Simon ghost Riley x yn #simon riley x f!reader #Simon Riley x yn #Simon riley #ghost x f!reader #ghost x y/n #ghost simon riley

[recentanimenews]

Bookshelf Briefs 9/30/20

Accomplishments of the Duke’s Daughter, Vol. 6 | By Reai and Suki Umemiya | Seven Seas – Another series down to “once a year” release—I had to jog my memory at the start to recall what had been happening. Many things are going wrong for our heroine, who is trying to be strong and tough but is also starting to break down, and I felt that the scenes with her and Dean struck just the right balance of comforting and letting the heroine cry without making her seem weaker. This sets the stage for her comeback, which is extraordinary. (And also has a corrupt Church, a constant in Japanese light novels, though at least here there are also honest and good religious people in it.) That said, eventually Dean’s identity will come out, and I do wonder how this very good “villainess” isekai will handle it. – Sean Gaffney

The Ancient Magus’ Bride: Jack Flash and the Faerie Case Files, Vol. 1 | By Yu Godai, Mako Oikawa, and Kore Yamazaki | Seven Seas – A faerie switched at birth for a human child, Jack never fit in in either world. Only in the mortal realm could she earn money for anime collectibles, however, so she decided to make herself into a tough, capable woman like her literary heroes and set up shop as a detective. Together with her fellow changeling, Larry the werewolf, Jack takes on supernatural cases in New York City. In this volume, Lindel tasks them with tracking down a missing dragon egg. I liked the resources Jack uses to obtain information, which include a dapper theatre ghost and a spell with components of rat whiskers and taxi tires because “Nobody out there knows this city better than them.” I still found this a bit hard to get into, though, especially the parts involving a perpetually tearful off-off-off-off-Broadway actress and her pickpocket boyfriend. Still, I will check out volume two! – Michelle Smith

Black Clover, Vol. 22 | By Yuki Tabata | Viz Media – At long last, this interminable arc comes to an end. I enjoyed a lot of it, but I cannot deny it should have been about two volumes shorter. Most of the book is taken up by shonen battles, with the villain being nigh unkillable, the heroes almost breaking themselves to stop him, etc. Fortunately, the day is saved, and even the Wizard King turns out to be… sort of alive again? Shota fans should be happy. Asta fans perhaps less so—the sheer amount of damage done to the kingdom in this arc means someone has to be blamed, and give Asta has the “dark evil magic” it’s gonna be him, especially when he takes the incredibly obvious bait they use to get him to fight. Oh well, if Asta were smart, this wouldn’t be Black Clover. – Sean Gaffney

Don’t Toy with Me, Miss Nagatoro, Vol. 3 | By Nanashi | Vertical Comics – Part of the problem with titles like this and the other teasing works (Takagi-san less so as Nishikata doesn’t fall into the category) is that they are, at heart, the classic “extroverted girl acts overtly extroverted to bring introverted guy out of their shell,” and that’s not really a plot that feels comfortable in the Gen Z days, where you’re more likely to say “why doesn’t she just let him be in his quiet, safe space?” And by she I mean they, as Nagatoro’s two friends appear far more often here, which offers some good two-way teasing action, as they clearly see her crush on him, if not why. It’s still sort of hard to read, but if you pretend he’s more OK with it than he actually is, this is cute. – Sean Gaffney

Failed Princesses, Vol. 1 | By Ajiichi | Seven Seas – The concept of “popular girl meets unpopular girl” is a common one in yuri manga, and we do indeed hit several of its tropes in this first volume. The amusing thing is that Kanade, the shy outcast girl, is perfectly aware of how things are supposed to go, and keeps pulling back a bit to try to save Nanaki from, well, making herself an outcast by associating with the wrong people. The best part of the volume is that Nanaki really doesn’t give two shits about any of that, and seems set on making Kanade her best friend… and also making her over, which backfires a bit as Kanade cleans up nicely. I hear this gets a bit dramatic later, but for the moment it’s a cute and fluffy proto-yuri story. – Sean Gaffney

In/Spectre, Vol. 12 | By Kyo Shirodaira and Chashiba Katase | Kodansha Comics – The first story in this volume is another “Rikka tries to make people understand Kotoko is an evil Machiavellian schemer,” this time with one of her ex-classmates, but again the response seems to be “we know she’s a manipulative bitch, but she’s a good person anyway.” The larger story, which will continue into the next book, seems to be a chance to write Kuro and Kotoko as an actual romance, as the man we meet here and his relationship with a yuki-onna… as well as his penchant for attracting misfortune… very much parallel them. That said, they’re very cute together, which is why I hope he avoids the murder charge he’s now being investigated for. Still a favorite. – Sean Gaffney

Interviews with Monster Girls, Vol. 8 | By Petos | Kodansha Comics – The author knows what people want to see, but also knows that the best way to get readers is to drive them crazy by not showing it. We finally get what we’ve been begging for here, as Tetsuo asks Sakie out on a date. (This is after rejecting Kyouko’s love confession, both because she’s his student and also, as he is forced to admit, as he likes Sakie.) The stage is set for the date… and the rest of the book is thus spent with the three main student girls going to Kyouko’s for a fireworks viewing and meeting her family. They’re good chapters, and I really liked showing how difficult Kyouko has it as a dullahan in terms of everyday life, but GOD, please get back to the teachers, I beg you! – Sean Gaffney

Kaguya-sama: Love Is War, Vol. 16 | By Aka Akasaka | Viz Media – The series has gotten to the point where the more rewarding chapters are the ones as part of a larger arc. Not that the one-shot chapters are bad—though Maki’s journey to India may be the most pointless thing in this entire series to date, we do get Chika’s iconic “shut up or I’ll kill you” here. But the larger arcs, featuring Miyuki and Kaguya attempting to date without interruptions, and setting up Ishigami and Iino for a romance—though given the number of limbs broken in this book, and Iino’s own horrible lack of self-awareness, it may be a ways out—are better. This series is still hilarious, but we’ve come to read it more for the heartwarming moments. Heck, there’s even some serious drama here. Very good. – Sean Gaffney

Nineteen | By Ancco | Drawn & Quarterly – Although it was translated and released second in English, Nineteen is a precursor to Ancco’s internationally award-winning manhwa Bad Friends. The volume collects thirteen short comics originally published in Korea over a decade ago which absolutely remain relevant to today’s world. While understandably not as polished as some of Ancco’s later work—one can observe her style evolving and growing over the course of the collection (which is fascinating)—the comics still carry significant emotional weight and impact. Nineteen includes diary comics, which tend to be more lighthearted, as well as harder-hitting fictional stories, many of which also have autobiographical inspiration. As a whole, the collection explores themes of young adulthood, growing up, and complicated family relationships. In particular, there is a compelling focus on the relationships among daughters, mothers, and grandmothers. Some of the narratives can be rather bleak, but a resigned sense of humor threads through Nineteen, too. – Ash Brown

Ran the Peerless Beauty, Vol. 8 | By Ammitsu | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Shoujo manga that has couples getting together BEFORE the end of the series is inevitably going to have an arc dealing with how far the lead couple should go now that they’re dating, and this is Ran’s turn, as she and Akira and their friends go to a beach house Ran’s family owns and have some beach fun. Unfortunately, the cast gets winnowed down one by one until it’s just the two of them… and her overprotective father, who arrives in time to provide the cliffhanger and no doubt ensure that nookie does not ensue. Not that I think it should—these two kids are even purer than the couple from Kimi ni Todoke, and I think they should mature a bit more before going further. Plus, watching them blush and kiss is wonderful. – Sean Gaffney

Spy x Family, Vol. 2 | By Tatsuya Endo | Viz Media – Having spent our first volume establishing that our found family can really come to love each other deep down, this volume shows off how they are also, at heart, fundamentally awkward and unable to socialize normally. This is unsurprising—hints of Loid’s life we’ve seen show him as a war orphan, Yor is a contract killer, and Anya basically grew up being experimented on by bad guys. As the school soon finds, this leads to issues. The second half of the book introduces Yor’s sister-obsessed little brother Yuri, who turns out to be a torture expert for Loid’s enemies. As always, half the fun is that everyone except Anya has no idea who their real selves are, and the cliffhanger tells us we’re in for some hilarious family fun. I love this. – Sean Gaffney

Spy x Family, Vol. 2 | By Tatsuya Endo | VIZ Media – After a brief spell atop the waiting list, Anya officially makes it into Eden Academy. Loid is anxious to progress to the next stage of his mission and, believing there’s not much chance in turning Anya into an elite scholar like his agency wants, focuses instead on having her befriend the younger son of his target. It does not go to plan, of course. Anya is very cute in this volume, and I also really appreciated how Loid genuinely listens to Yor and values her input. The arrival of Yor’s brother, a member of the secret police, is going to be a fun complication, and another cast member with a secret, but my favorite part of this series is probably always going to be how much love these three are already feeling for each other. So unique and good! – Michelle Smith

Sword Art Online: Hollow Realization, Vol. 6 | By Tomo Hirokawa, based on the story by Reki Kawahara | Yen Press – The weakness of this manga is the same as always—it’s written to tie into the games, and features several characters I just don’t recognize, which can be a problem given this is the big final let’s-save-the-world ending. That said, this is still a decent SAO title. Kirito gets to be cool and badass, but because this isn’t written just by Kawahara others do as well, and it’s a nice balanced effort that focuses on heroine Premiere. I also really liked the point where all the NPCs are worried when everyone has to log out for several days for maintenance. While I’ll still remember this as the “SAO only everyone is alive” manga, I enjoyed reading it, when I wasn’t confused. – Sean Gaffney

By: Ash Brown

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

[after-avenging-hours]

August AU Writing Challenge

Let’s turn August into AU month!  I’m sure many of us are still grieving over Infinity War and especially with it coming out to DVD this month, let’s celebrate by turning MCU Canon completely on it’s head and dive right into to the wonderful world of Alternate Universes.

You can start writing as soon as you want, but the deadline is Friday, August 31st at midnight PST.

I will be reblogging the entries as they come in and will create a masterlist as we go.

Rules:

1) Pick one AU theme from the list and one MCU character of choice (can make exceptions for poly fics).  After you have finished and submitted your fic, you can request for another available pairing.  Request a pairing by sending me an ASK. If you are using anon, I need to have the name of a blog to associate with your request.

2) These must all be X Reader fics.  No OCs unless they are a necessary side character.

3) Only one pairing of a character with each theme is allowed.  Multiple characters can be applied to the same theme, though. This is meant to promote variety between all the submissions.  If something sparks your interest, send an ask fast, because these will be given out at a first come-first serve basis.

4) Happy endings only, please!  You can write smut, fluff, platonic/non-romantic, but angst can only be used to provide some drama to the plot.  It’s too hard on me to have to read hardcore angst. (NO SMUT for underage characters like Peter Parker or Shuri) Provide the proper warnings on your fics, if necessary.  You must be over 18 yourself if you are going to submit or read smut fics. Smut must be consensual between the characters.

5) No minimum or maximum requirement, but if your fic is over 500 words, please include a “Read More” link

6) If your fic becomes a series, you just need to submit the first part before the final deadline.

7) If you need to extend your deadline or cannot find inspiration for your chosen AU, just let me know.  It’s no big deal and no pressure.

8) Attempt to tag my main blog @after-avenging-hours in the final fic, but I know that my blog can be difficult to tag, because it’s an explicit blog, so if that doesn’t work, you can tag my side blog @wilsons-wings​  *As a backup plan, send me a link to your fic through the messenger system*

9) Tag your fic as #AugustAUWritingChallenge so I can track it as well

10) If an AU you want to write is not listed, let me know and I might consider adding it on

11) Lastly, just have fun with it!

You will find the list of AUs bellow.  Over 50 to choose from!

In no particular order:

Career AUs

 Astronaut Firefighter --- @until-theend-oftheline Steve Rogers Cop/Detective --- @hcwlingccmmandcs Steve Rogers Mob Boss --- @bettercallsabs Steve and Bucky CEO/Boss --- @princess-evans-addict​ Steve Rogers Professor/Teacher --- @shitty-imagines-95​ Steve and Tony --- @petitemistletoes Bucky Barnes College Student --- @sorryimacrapwriter​ Bucky Barnes Librarian/Book Store --- @jewels2876 Scott Lang --- @flightofthefantasies Loki Coffee shop/Barista Baker --- @iguess-theyre-my-mess Sam Wilson Ice cream shop --- @mcu-galaxy Musician Doctor --- @did-someone-say-plums Bucky Barnes Spies --- @ayatoiloveyou Bucky Barnes Street Racer --- @marvel-natural​ Bucky Barnes Mechanic Cowboy/Western Artist --- @marvelous-avengers Steve Rogers Photographer --- @occasionallywittyavengers Loki  Life Guard --- @promarvelfangirl​ Steve Rogers Military --- @maximofos​ Bucky Barnes --- @winterdaybreak Steve Rogers Sailor Next Door Neighbor --- @the-canary​ Bucky Barnes Event Planner --- @akoya-pearls​ Sam Wilson Waiter/Waitress Bartender --- @mss4msu Steve Rogers Barber --- @sheerioasteroidpanda Steve Rogers

Sports AUs

 Baseball American Football Everywhere Else Football/Soccer Gymnast Dancer --- @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen Bucky Barnes Ice Skating Hockey --- @i-the-hell-is-bvcky​ Sam Wilson --- @littleredwritinghood13 Bucky Barnes --- @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked Steve Rogers Personal Trainer --- @eufeme Sam Wilson

Mythical AUs

 Greek/Roman Gods --- @kaunis-sielu Steve Rogers (Persephone and Hades) --- @mermaidxatxheart Bucky Barnes (Muses) Fae/Faeries --- @uh-this-is-jake-from-statefarm Bucky Barnes Vampires --- @deepdesireslonging Steve Rogers Werewolves --- @disagreetoagree​ Bucky Barnes Demons --- @lady-of-the-abyss Steve Rogers --- @trashcanraccoon Tony and Bucky Angels --- @areyoureadyforsomemeatballz Bucky Barnes Merpeople --- @lt-sammi-matthews Steve Rogers --- @decafseabass​ Peter Parker Witch/Wizards Monster Hunters --- @marvelcapsicle Steve Rogers Zombie Apocolypse Ghost Hunter --- @liamakorn Peter Parker --- @moonfairydraws Loki

Medieval/Ancient Times AU

 Kings/Queens --- @daneel-the-sister-of-castiel Steve Rogers Prince/Princess --- @whiskeybucky Bucky Barnes Knights --- @itsbuckysworld Bucky Barnes Sorcerors Dragons Blacksmith Village Hunter Gladiator --- @widow-made-me-do-it Bucky and Steve Viking --- @firewolfkelly​ Bucky Barnes Highlander

#augustauwritingchallenge

[army-author]

yoongi scenario | felix culpa

« felix culpa: a fortunate fall; an apparent error or disaster with happy consequences »

➸ prompt: We’re both descended from feuding supernatural families, and to stop the centuries of fighting you and I are arranged to be married.

➸ pairing: incubus yoongi x fairie reader

➸ requested by anon | 4.2k words | fluff, angst

Stay on your side of the wall. That’s the most important rule, drilled into you since you were babbling in your cradle. Before you learnt what magic was, learnt about the power coursing through your body, you knew what the wall was. It’s a constant presence, even when its golden bricks are out of sight, you can still feel its impressive and impassive force. All that’s beyond it is an unending darkness, and darker creatures – some call them incubi, some call them devils. You call them a mystery.

They’re the reason the fairie government put up the wall, and the magic barrier that reinforces it. Faeries can get out, but nothing can get in. Below your artificial lights, your kind are free to live without fear of being snatched into the blackness of the wastelands next door.

But there’s something about the wall that pulls you to it, curious about what lies outside. Maybe it’s your heart pulling you towards love, somewhere on the shadowy other side, in the shape of someone you were taught to fear.

You meet him in your eleventh year.

Playing on the outskirts of the city, next to the towering wall that glitters unnaturally next to the smaller cottages that make up the suburbs, your friend, Nyx, is trying to show you her new doll, asking you to hold her, and pointing out the detailed needlework on its dress, when you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Magic crackles at your ears, alerting you to danger, and you hush Nyx before throwing a wary look behind you. There, on the other side of the golden gate leading to the wastelands, a young boy stands. He looks about the same age as you, but he’s not like any of the fairie boys you know. His hair is a few shades too black, his eyes a few shades too dark, unnaturally so – darker than midnight. You’ve never seen such a rich blackness inside the city where the streetlights keep the daylight even when the sun goes down.

Curious, you step closer. His dark eyes are like black holes that suck you in.

Behind you, Nyx calls your name, a warning in her tone, but you can’t turn away now. You reach the gate, one step away from the boy, with the rungs of the gate between you.

A smile, or maybe it’s more of a smirk, ghosts the boy’s lips, before he reaches past the bars and rips Nyx’s doll from your hand.

“Hey!” You make a grab past the gate, but the boy ducks out of reach, sticking out his tongue. In a few more steps, he bleeds into the fogs of the forest and disappears from view.

Without thinking, you squeeze through the bars of the gate, still small enough to fit, and feel the magic barrier wobble as it admits your fairie blood into the wastelands.

From the other side, Nyx’s voice sound muffled. “Come back! It’s not safe!”

You smile to assure her you’re safe, then dart towards the trees. The darkness swallows you up – it’s the first time you’ve been without light, and suddenly the gravity of what you’ve done sinks in. You’re in the wastelands. In the dark. And a hundred devils could be crawling towards you, lurking just beyond where your eyes can reach. A chill clings to your skin, and you turn your eyes back to the city lights, still glittering through the gloom. Just a few steps back and you’d be safe on the other side again, back where the trees bloom bright, bursting with fruit and magic, a far cry from the dead trees on this side, raising bare branches to the hazy sky in penance.

“Are you scared? Gonna run home?”

You spin around to see the boy, leaning against one of the trees, doll in hand.

The words you want to say build up in your mouth, ready to spill over, until he interrupts your thoughts with, “You know you’re going to be in big trouble if the incubus king learns there was a fairie on his land.”

You swallow and reply, “Well if he doesn’t want me here, you’ll have to tell him it was your fault, since you led me here.”

The boy bites down on his lips, red welling where his teeth clamp down. “He won’t know… and even if he did, he wouldn’t mind because it’s me…” But he doesn’t seem sure, so he quickly throws the doll back at you. “Take this…” As an after though he mumbles, “Since you were brave enough to cross the barrier, I’ll be nice.”

A smile stretches across your face, as you clasp the doll to your chest. “Thank you. You’re actually okay when you’re being nice… well, okay for someone who lives in the wastelands.”

“And you’re okay for someone who lives in the city.” He echoes back, colour rising to his pale cheeks.

Running back to the gate, you call to him from behind the bars, “What’s your name, by the way?”

His brows furrow. “Why does it matter?”

“Because we’re friends now.”

“Stupid.”

“Your name’s stupid?”

“No. You’re stupid! My name’s Yoongi and you’re stupid.” He escapes into the shadows without another word.

♡♡♡

And so, you make your first fatal error: considering Yoongi a friend.

As the days fly by, eternal summer remains within the walls while it begins to snow in the wastelands.

You often go back to the gate where you first met Yoongi, hoping to catch another glimpse of him in the ashy grey slush outside. But there’s nothing there but a few black ravens, and the groaning of the trees.

You’re getting ready to forget Yoongi, until one day, leaning on the railings of the gate, you notice a piece of paper lodged in a crack in the bricks on the other side. Reaching past the gate, you pull it out, and brush off the dirt before reading: “Hey, stupid, stop standing by the gate during the daytime. Do you know how suspicious that looks? If you want to see me again, come at night. Yoongi.”

Your stomach flips. How long ago was the note left here? Will Yoongi still be waiting tonight, or did you leave it too late?

It’s worth one chance, one night, just to check that he’s not there. The next night, you sneak from your house while your parents sleep, and tread the familiar way to your spot by the gate. Peering out from the well-lit city, all you can see is darkness this late. You don’t notice him, until, “Boo!”

Your heart rockets to your throat and you need to clamp your mouth closed with your hands to hold back a scream.

“You actually came!” In the light of the city, his eyes sparkle bright, and you notice there’s flecks of light within the blackness that had first drawn you to him.

“I was worried you’d get bored of waiting.” You step closer, not actually sure what to do, now that he’s in front of you again.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do during the night,” he laughs, holding his hand out to you through the gate.

You take it in his own, staring at his dull skin contrasted against the glow of yours – one of the symptoms of living in the wastelands where no light can reach. His fingers snake through yours, and you tug at him, saying, “You should come inside to see the city lights.”

He hisses and pulls his hand away. “You really are stupid. The barrier, remember?” Sure enough, at his wrist, just where you had pulled him beyond the barrier, a blue bruise billows out – the payment for any incubus that tries to cross through to the city.

“Sorry…”

He waves off your mistake, and holds out his hand, wary of the barrier sparkling just in front of his eyes, “You’ll have to come across to my side.”

Doubts crowd into your mind, but he promises, “I’ll keep you safe out here,” so you grab onto his fingers and slip through the gate easily.

He leads you into the woods, dodging trees before you can even spot them in the gloom. He seems more at ease in the shadows, his shoulders relaxing, and his grip on your hand softening.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

He offers a helpful, “Somewhere,” in response.

“Yoongi…” you whine, before he shoots you a warning look that tells you not to start, before pushing you through some brambles, into a clearing and into lights that strain your eyes after the darkness. You blink a few times before you can make sense of what you’re seeing – the entrance to a small cave, littered with gemstones that scatter kaleidoscopes of light across your cheeks.

“Beautiful, right?” Yoongi steps to your side, searching your face to gauge your reaction, “We do have light in the wastelands, despite what you fairie folk think.”

“I always thought that no beauty existed outside of our city…” you breathe, “We’re always told that the wastelands are nothing but… well… waste.”

“Well, you can’t believe everything you hear on your side of the wall,” Yoongi says, fingers ghosting over yours again, “Not about the wastelands. And not about incubi.”

You catch his hand in your own. “Show me more.”

♡♡♡

Your second error is keeping in touch with Yoongi.

As the years pass, your make a habit of leaving letters for him in the crack in the wall. Walking by your gate is always exciting, and you look forward to the prospect of getting another letter from him.

Growing up, his writing has evolved from, “Hey, stupid. Come and meet me the next night you can. I’ve got something to show you!” to much something much more romantic – “Every day spent away from you takes its toll on me. Life on this side of the wall is so boring, the wastelands offer nothing new without you around to teach me how to appreciate it all. When can we meet again? I miss you more with each night that passes.”

You keep the letters he’s sent, stored in a locked box under your bed. It reminds you of why you like him so much, why he’s so important in your life, despite all the warnings you’ve received from faeries about the world beyond the wall.

If your friends ever found out about Yoongi, you know they’d tear up his letters and force you to stay inside.

More and more, you’ve been hearing horror stories about the evils of the incubi. You don’t know if it’s just because you’re more aware now the innocence of childhood is sliding off, or if intolerance is mounting towards the creatures that reside in the wastelands.

The conversations with your friends make you uncomfortable now, hearing what’s been said in the news, regurgitated in their own words.

“Incidents of incubi kidnapping fairies is getting so much more common,” one of your friends, Alva, tells you, as you sit in the park with a group of other fairies, “They come to the gates and encourage innocent children to pass the barrier. And once they’re out in the wastelands, do you know what they do?”

You shake your head.

Alva widens her eyes, “They kiss them, and suck up their life force.”

“No, no,” one of the other girls, shakes her head, “They infect you with lust, and keep you as slaves in return for their love.”

The group starts bickering over what incubi do with their victims, until Nyx pipes up, “Well that incubus child lured you across the barrier… do you think he was trying to kidnap you?

The chattering falls off, silence settling in its place.

Under the gaze of your friends, Nyx presses you to support her claim, “Don’t you remember? He stole my doll and you followed after him to get it.”

The group dissolves into chaos.

“You crossed the barrier?”

“Are you mad?”

“You’re lucky you’re not dead!”

You hold up your hands to fend off their shouting. “It’s okay. I’m fine. It was along time ago. Nothing happened to me.” Your friends’ eyes stay pinned to you, worried.

You wish their concerns didn’t affect you as much as they do. No matter how much you remind yourself that Yoongi is trustworthy, that if he wanted to kill you he would have done so ages ago, doubt still resounds in your mind, a small ‘what if’ niggling like an itch you can’t reach.

What if he’s just waiting for the right time to strike? What if one day you go out to the wasteland and never return? What if you’re already affected by him, brainwashed to believe that he’s good.

You decide to test him yourself.

♡♡♡

The next night you go to the gate, watching the fog sigh by, and breathing misty clouds into the air.

At last, Yoongi arrives by your side, giving a rare smile. “Hello, stupid.”

Before he can say or do anything else, you stand up on your tip-toes, and press your lips to his own.

Below your touch, he tenses.

You pull back to see his eyes, as wide as a full moon as he gapes at you. “What was that for?”

“A test.”

He stays silent, waiting for you to explain.

“My friends told me that an incubus’s kiss could steal life force.”

“So you decided give me a chance to kill you?” His eyes darken.

“I trust you,” you mumble, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the whole thing.

Yoongi digs his toe into the dirt, concentrating on the patterns he draws with his boot, rather than looking your way. “You really shouldn’t,” he says at last, “I’m an incubus after all. I’m different from you, always will be… and I really could take your life if I wanted.”

“But you won’t.”

“Want to bet on it?” Stepping forward, he presses his lips to yours again. Not like the first time. This time he isn’t stiff, but fluid, like smoke that expands to fill your crevices. Without really knowing what you’re doing, you open your mouth to him, let him inside – his tongue is soft, but firm, pressing to all your edges, until you feel weak at the knees and your fingers catch onto his arms to keep you from falling.

When he parts, you feel that something inside you has changed. Are you dead? Is your life force gone?

No, still here, just a little mushy-brained from Yoongi’s touch.

You’re unharmed. Despite his teasing, Yoongi wouldn’t hurt you. You smack his arm. “You’re the worst. Why would you do that?”

“Were you scared.”

You pause. Consider. “Maybe… for a second. But after that I liked it.”

“I liked it too.”

Falling in love was your third error. You should have seen it coming, could have prevented it – yet here you are, completely enamoured. And here’s Yoongi, looking back, like he might be enamoured too. That though alone pushes you up to float in the clouds, high on your own happiness.

♡♡♡

You return to your house, lighter than air, and breeze in through the door. That’s when you come crashing down from your dreams, meeting your mother and father, waiting for you in the kitchen.

“Where were you?” Your father steps forward, and you scramble to search for an excuse.

“Don’t make her answer. We already know,” your mother murmurs, a hand reaching out to your father. He pulls away from her, and goes to the table where a familiar box sits.

“What is the meaning of this? Huh?” He picks it up, and throws it to the tiles where it cracks, letters saturated with Yoongi’s love spilling onto the floor.

“Please don’t…” you can’t remember when you started crying. Your mother goes to your side, wrapping her arms around you. She’s crying too.

“Nyx told us about the incubus that led you into the wastelands,” your father says, “I can’t believe it…” His anger dissipates, and he pinches the bridge of his nose as he laments. “My own daughter, infatuated with an incubus… brainwashed…”

“I’m not!” your try to explain, as your mother’s arms hold on tighter, “He did nothing to me. Incubi aren’t what we think.”

Your father scoffs. “Well there’s your proof. He’s clearly infected your brain with his poison…” He steps towards you, and you see something glinting in his hand. You recognise the bracelet just before he clamps it onto your wrist. It’s gold, infused with incubus blood, fashioned so that you can’t get past the barrier. They’re made for fairies that are brainwashed by incubi, meant for their own safety.

The metal burns as it binds to your skin, and as you scratch at it, it only squeezes tighter.

“Promise us you’ll never try to pass the barrier again,” your father pleads, forcing your chin up to look in his eyes. You want to be angry, but all you see reflected back is sadness and misunderstanding. You hang your head, defeated, while your mother sobs against you.

♡♡♡

That was three years ago.

You still have the bracelet shackling you. Your mother barely lets you out of sight now, fussing and worrying every time you ask to leave the house. She looks a lot older now, and you worry that all the stress you caused her has done this. You wish you could explain away her fears, reassure her that you’re in complete control of your brain. Falling in love with Yoongi may have been a mistake, but it was also a choice. You feel this way because you decided that he was the kind of person you’d want to spend forever and a day with. Not because incubus toxins are clouding your head. You pray you can get her to understand someday. There’s a small hope she might. Recently, fairies have been questioning what really lies outside the wall, why you even need a wall. And your mother has been paying more attention to the news as the fairie president schedules peace talks with the incubus king.

Your father, on the other hand, is just as stubborn. Any time he walks in on your mother watching debates on incubus rights, he’ll scoff and roll his eyes and say, “What more do those life suckers want? They’ve already got a whole world outside, and we’re trapped in this city, forced to use all our magic to keep them from our homes and our daughters.”

When he goes off ranting like this, your mother switches off the TV and stares out the window.

With the few chances you get to leave the house, you go to check your gate, where you and Yoongi first met, but Yoongi’s never there, and if he left a letter, it’s since been removed.

Today, again, you follow the all too familiar route, desperate to check, just in case. The streets are strangely busy, but you pay no heed, squeezing past until you reach the suburbs where the gate stands, as expected. What you don’t expect is the tape sectioning off the wall. “What’s going on?” you ask one of the men walking past, and he stares at you. 

“You don’t know? They’re knocking down this part of the wall.”

“What?”

“Our president has finished the peace talks with the incubus king. He agreed to knock down the wall, as part of a new deal sealed with the incubi.”

You shake your head, not able to hope.

“I couldn’t believe it myself,” the man goes on, “From what I gather, the king’s son is the one pushing for these changes. He’s even offered up his hand in marriage to a fairie wife as a symbol of peace.”

His words jumble together in your head. Only one thing sticks for you. The wall is being knocked down. You’ll get to see Yoongi again. Turning on your heel, you sprint back to your house. The streets are filling up as fairies spill out of their houses, the news leaking out. You hear the word ‘wall’ repeated over and over, sometimes murmured and other times shouted.

The street to your own house is the most crowed. Nyx, and a couple of your other friends are outside, and they catch hold of your when you appear. “I’m so sorry,” Nyx smothers you in a hug, “I was wrong about that incubus.”

Confused about what brought on her change of heart, you pull away from her, and force your way to your house, where your mother greets you with a hug and a few tears. Behind her, your father stares on, lip curling up in a scowl.

“What’s going on?” you demand.

“You don’t know?” your mother pulls back to search your eyes, “The incubus prince has picked you out to be his bride. It’s a great honour.” She wipes a stray tear from her eyes. “A marriage to end the fighting and a reminder of why we’re knocking down the wall.”

Your father jumps in, “It’s disgusting. He has no right to demand your hand.”

“It’s a privilege,” your mother says, turning to him, “Our daughter is going to be a part of history… we can’t say no. Not to something so monumentous.”

The world spins around you.

Marriage? To the prince? Your heart turns cold. A man you’ve never met has picked you out from a thousand other fairies he could have, and in doing so has pulled you away from the one man you love.

Your mother’s hand falls to your wrist, detaching your bracelet with a snap of her fingers and a crackling of magic. The tight band of gold slides from you, leaving a red mark where it had stayed for three years. “You won’t be needing this anymore,” she smiles.

You rub at your wrist, and try to smile back, despite the whirl of emotions pulling you down.

Your mother turns to your father. “Don’t you have something to give?”

He scowls, before stepping forwards to hand you a letter stamped with the crest of the incubus royal family. The paper feels heavy in your hand.

“And this as well,” he says, before you go to remove your hands. He adds another letter to your hand, this one is older, crumpled and creased. “It was left by the gate you always sneaked through.”

From Yoongi? You glance down and recognise the handwriting.

“I need a moment.” You push your way out of the house, fighting the crowd down the streets until you find yourself in the quiet of the suburbs, by the gate again. Left in peace, you sit down on the curb, and read the letter:

“Love, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I worry that your parents might have found out about us – and that you’re being kept from visiting. It hurts not being able to see you, but I’m not going to give up so easily. I’ll fight to see you again. You have my word for it. It may take a long time, but I’m going to see you again. Someday, we’ll live in a world where there’s no wall, and you can stay by my side without fear.”

Your tears spot the page.

The wall is going, but Yoongi’s dream for you is all but shattered.

“Why are you crying, stupid?”

Looking up, you see Yoongi standing above you, slightly out of breath. It only takes you a second to register he’s there before he sweeps you up into a hug, lifting you off the ground. The tears keep falling, but now for joy.

Setting you down, Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead. “Where did you go? I’ve been going crazy searching for you.”

“I’m sorry, my parents found out I was sneaking past the wall.”

“I feared so,” Yoongi’s face falls, and his finger traces the mark where your bracelet once was, “That’s why I fought so hard to get my father to speak with your president. I needed to get into the city. I needed to see you again.”

“Your father?” you take a step back, and it’s only then that you take in Yoongi’s clothing, a lot grander than the normal black shirt and ripped trousers he wears while he wanders the forest. He’s wearing a blazer embroidered with diamonds, and earrings stamped with the emblem of the incubus’ royal family. “You’re the prince?”

His smile, so rare, but shown so often for you, brings back all the familiar feelings of love, reassurance, acceptance, belonging. You slot yourself back into his hold, listening to his heart beating as you rest your ear to his chest.

“Yeah, I suppose I never got around to telling you.”

Tears keep trickling their way down your nose, so overcome with all the ups and downs of the day.

“By the way,” his voice thrums steady against you, “I kind of… already told my father I’d marry you so we could bring the kingdoms together. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

You laugh into his chest. “Not at all.”

“Good.” His lips ghost the top of your head, and you thank the heavens for all the mistakes you made that led to this moment.

Author’s note: Well… this is definitely NOT a drabble… Sorry, I got completely carried away with this au, but I don’t think I could have told the story in fewer words. Even this long still feels a little rushed…

a halloween drabble > click here to read more

#sfwbangtan #armiesnet #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #bts imagines #yoongi imagines #bts reactions #bts fluff #bts angst #bts suga #min yoongi #suga #agust d #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts halloween #bts supernatural au #bts fantasy #bts fanfics #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fic #bts fic #bts chats #bts x reader #bts x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bangtan sonyeondan #beyond the scene

[celestialwhoree]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝

❝𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧❞

❝𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫❞

#celestialwhoree #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #Simon ghost riley #king ghost #king Simon Riley #Simon Riley x reader #faerie reader #king ghost x faerie reader #cod au #foreigner's god #2k special

[celestialwhoree]

Itty bitty snippet of the 2k special (I mean seriously itty bitty) because I've been neglecting writing and feeling vv guilty about it!!! and I'm so so so desperate to start putting this out!!

Sunlight fractures through the leaves of age old oaks and ancient pines, dappling against your back, weaving through long strands of untamed hair to brush a kiss against your thinly clothed shoulders, spiders silk and gauze just barely fluttering on a phantom breeze stirred by the muted clopping of horse hooves on the forest floor. The mare beneath you holds tension in her withers, matching the unpleasant knotting of the muscle between your shoulder blades. She knows what’s coming just as well as you do. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt anxiety this way. It’s the kind of gnawing, unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach that comes only from venturing away from the safety of the trees and caves, brooks and hollow roots you call home.

That's it That's literally it no spoilers Just now realising how far I actually am from 2k and how much I underestimated the amount I could write

#celestialwhoree #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #Simon ghost riley #king ghost #king Simon Riley #Simon Riley x reader #faerie reader #king ghost x faerie reader #cod au #foreigner's god #2k special #cod mw2 #cod #tf 141 #call of duty #simon riley #ghost x reader