#making him another cousin. except its his actual blood cousin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trashbins-stuff · 9 months

Text

bin can handle it!! (except for the one time it cant) (ttc fan fanfic)

heads up: this work have angst, attempted murder, attempted suicide, actual suicide, and blood please dont read if it triggers you <3 also this is a 5+1 things (>v0) also i know bin should have die immediately but can u rlly blame a guy for wanting to romanticize his death? THIS IS HOW I COPE WITH MY DEATH U CANT TELL SOMEONE HOW TO GRIEF ESPICALLY WHEN THEY'RE GRIEFING THEMSELVES WAAAAAAA

"i can handle it!!"

"its doable!!"

"fuck it we balllll"

Bin wipes the tear off his face, his dad had already stop banging on the door forever ago, probably off watching sport or something, Bin couldn't stop crying, whenever he thought he had calm down, another wave of sadness wash over him and he's wet again.

His mom sit across the mattress, Bin didn't want to talk to her, she'll say its his fault.

And maybe it was.

His dad isn't entirely at fault here. He's trying his best, Bin did too, but he guess it wasn't enough, his dad wouldn't chase him up here if it did, threatening to kill him and all that.

Even when his mom bought a bunch of books on parenting, he's the only one who even reads them, he didn't even plan on having kids, he was just bored.

But that's okay, so what if his dad tried to kill him and his mom was rarely ever there? that's okay!! Bin can handle a bit of loneliness, he have friends!! And his cousin sometime too!! Bin can manage this.

He stand up and unlock the door, repeating "I'm sorry, ba" like a mantra in his head.

The four of them have been sticking together like glue in the entirety of elementary school.

Bin, Puffball Keychain, Baggy and Fluffy Carpet, that is.

They made craft together, they played the same game, Bin and Carpet raves over Melanie Martinez, hanging out in the school cafeteria afterschool, making up their own version of stories and songs they find in textbooks, the usual.

Bin thought it'll stay that way when they go to middle school.

It didn't.

For Carpet, they went to a different school, didn't have a choice.

For Puffball Keychain, too much had happen, didn't want to remember.

For Baggy, it's complicated, didn't know who we are.

That night, Bin cried and wept.

"Your personality is annoying, if you won't change, no one would want to be friend with you"

"I agree with her, sorry"

All those god damn EIGHT YEARS meant NOTHING to them, Pk have been there since 1st grade, sure, she abandon fem once in 2nd grade to hang out with Carpet and Baggy but that's seven years ago.

And Baggy were the nicest one, the kind one, and even she get tired of Bin, fey miss going to her house, they would play together with her cousin.

Now they barely look at each other.

And Bin was lonely.

But that's alright, Bin can still make new friends!! It's not the end of the world!! Fey can always start a new!! Bin can get through this.

And Bin met a new friend, Bin play more of the therapist role then best friends usually but that was fine, if it keep this friendship afloat, fey will do anything.

Bin cried in class, she couldn't handle the bullying, the teasing, the isolation, she was EIGHT for frog's sake!! Would it kill them to be nice to her? She couldn't stop crying, through her wet glances, she can see her bullies staring back at her, and then one them spoke.

"Crocodile tears"

Bin feel something broke, she isn't sure what but she realized.

It's a dog-eat-dog world out there and if she want to survive, she's gonna need some mask and a tough persona. Bin can get use to this.

After years of kids leaving and joining the class, Bin found herself enjoy talking to a few kids, they still treat her differently but as long as they tolerate her, it was enough.

Bin feel ugly, a bit on physical but mostly mentally, it didn't like when people commented on it's efforts.

"Your hair look like a bird nest, when was the last time you brush it?" they'll touch its hair without its consent and try to brush it, its hurts like its scalp is going to be ripped out in any minutes.

"Your a female, why are your hand writing worse than all the boys?" it was trying its best, it put so much time writing and making it look legible, and this is the thanks it get? Tch, figures.

"..bla bla bla..."

It didn't want to change, it didn't like how they look at it, there's always something that separate it form other people, that wall have been there since forever. No one needed it, no one wanted it.

It didn't want itself either.

It never asked to be here, it never looked forward to it's existent. But Bin fix this.

Over years it thinks, Bin start to love parts of itself that it had previously hate, Bin start to feel a bit better. But what is it even-?

Bin couldn't tell, if the kid died from bashing their head or the stab wound. Either way they're laying on the kitchen floor, looking at the lights above, not from heaven-they just have a long lightbulb in their kitchen.

They roll their head back to look at their other self, Bin immediately look away, after staring for a second or two, their gaze went back to the lights.

Bin walk to the chair and turn on the tv.

Leaving the kid to bleed out and die.

Leaving Bin to bleed out and die.

A year later, a soaking wet Bin was walking to it's bedroom, it was it's cousin birthday today, but its not time to eat yet. It walk in and its eye turn left.

Bin found the same kid with the fan's string tied around their neck.

They couldn't even get a proper rope.

Bin couldn't even get a proper rope.

"We gotta stop meeting like this"

"..."

The kid stood up and walk away, leaving Bin alone in it's bedroom

With a thud, Bin fall down on the cold hard floor in Galaxy Journal's lab.

He wasn't the best person, he had done a lot of wrongs, he had done a lot of rights too, maybe he'll end up in purgatory, or are we all clotted in the same afterlife? like Journal said, or will he be reincarnated? or maybe there's nothing after death at all.

He doesn't know, and that scare him a little.

A part of her still hopes, a part of her still hope that maybe, just maybe, Journal would burst through that door any second now and fix her up. Or if it's too late, she still hopes that someone-anyone! would kick down that dammed door and hold her, hold her tight.

Her death would have looked cuter in someone's arm.

She want to be held, one last time.

The door didn't even budge.

So (So)

Instead (Instead)

It's (It's)

Gonna (Gonna)

Die (Die)

As (As)

Lonely (Lonely)

As (As)

It (It)

Felt (Felt)

Last (Right)

Night (Now)

But at least Journal's lab have a very nice ceiling.

And the maggots will surely enjoy my rotten flesh.

Classic Bin, always so silly, but i fear your positivity will not save you this time.

Bin took it's last breath in the dark lab, alone.

Becoming as cold as the blood-covered floor below it.

The cassette tape sits on the table, it contain words contradicting what Bin have said the night before.

And the lab fell silent once more.

Bin might have ended it all right then and there.

But the Earth will keep on spinning.

And tomorrow will be a brand new day.

"Remember Me".

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Haiiii this is the end, i hope u enjoy it!! htis is my first fic so plz go easy on me,,,<3 thanks for reading :3

Also all the things that happen to bin may or may not actually happen irl hehe-

words count: 1,244

#the traumatized cup #ttc #ttc bin #angst #fanfic #trashbins-art #tw attempted murder #tw suicide #tw blood #tw death #5+1 things #5 + 1 fic #5+1 times #5 time bin can handle it and one time it couldn't

12 notes · View notes

tortellini-tankini-art · 3 months

Text

Finally got around to finishing the timeline for another one of my Pastamonsters OC's, Vicky! (Full name: Victoria Rosa-Marie Rodriguez)

More of her lore in the cut below (CW for mention of attempted suicide)

Vicky is a young Puerto Rican-American girl in the Bronx whose parents divorced, and her father immediately goes to marry his mistress. His mistress just so happens to have a teenage son who's a spoiled brat, and as well as that, her father's sisters are total cunts who, along with her own father, bully her cousin to the point her cousin attempted suicide. She survived but went into a coma, and her paternal family had the audacity to say she did it for attention. So Vicky snaps, and at a family party, she locks everyone in and slaughters everyone.

Slenderman finds the girl covered in blood and holding her father's head. Before taking her to the UnderRealm, Slendy lets her say goodbye to her mother. However, when her mother found out what she did, she rejected her daughter's request for a hug goodbye and slammed the door in her face. Cue the mommy issues that impact the way she views love and relationships for the rest of her life...

In the UR, she's acts up a lot in her schools, constantly getting into a fights, to the point she has to keep being transferred from school to school (which really takes a lot to do in the UR!). Eventually, she's transferred to Jeff's school. There, she sees Jeff, basically goes up to him and says "You're my boyfriend now. Get up. Hold my hand." And since she has a reputation for causing trouble, Jeff reluctantly goes along with it...

Her quinceañera rolls around, and she invites everyone in the school to attend....but given her reputation, no one else shows up except for Jeff, Ben, and Priscilla. Vicky breaks down crying at the disaster of a party, but Jeff tries to cheer her up. Vicky explains that she didn't even care about the people she invited, she just wanted lots of people to impress Jeff and make him like her more. Jeff becomes smitten with her over this, and after dancing together to this song, he realizes he's actually falling for her. They end up being high school sweethearts for about 2 years...(Look up the English lyrics of the song...it ends up foreshadowing the fate of their relationship...😱)

As Vicky gets older, she picks up a better reputation, makes more friends, and basically has a glow up. However, with this new reputation, she's got new admirers lining up for her...And although she's taken, she decides that her boyfriend hasn't been paying enough attention to her lately, and so she decides to indulge one of them...Long story short, Jeff finds out and promptly dumps her.

And Vicky....does NOT process it well. Remember the mommy issues and rejection? Yeah, well she's not letting her once chance at affection slip from her that easy this time. Cue several years of intense stalking and harassment, waiting outside his window playing the song they danced to, calling him from burner phones. She gets so good at tracking his location that Slendy notices and decides to redirect her pent up anger towards mercenary missions, utilizing this skill.

By 27 she's mostly chilled the fuck out now. An idea I have in mind for PM that probably won't be canon, but its my canon lol, is Slendy suggests Jeff goes to Vicky to ask she use her insane tracking skills to help find Smile. Cue awkward and super tense reunion...

At 29, well after the events of PM, the Boogeyman managed to come out of hiding and started making up for lost time. And by making up for lost time, I mean seducing and hooking up with random people at bars, including Vicky. She gets knocked up, and she never sees a cent of Child support money from papa Boogey...

BUT, in spite of that, she loves her daughter, Ramona, with all her heart, and she wouldn't trade her for the WORLD. Though it is awkward than people keep thinking that Grinny is her dad...

#pastamonsters #pastamonsters oc #creepypasta oc #OC: Vicky #character design #character lore

3 notes · View notes

rk-ocs · 6 months

Text

Red and her family

MT (her favorite cousin, a nicknamer)

I'm thinking she might be of native descent (though whether it's registered is another matter) So she and Red don't look all that similar, and in case I do a willow bark AU it makes sense for her to have inherited characteristics

Well, she's shorter than Red, (reds parents were tall people) like maybe 5'8. She has dark brown hair and light brown eyes. She gets pretty annoyed at people assuming that she's not related to red, because of her skin, which later is echoed with Red being able to act super offended at anyone who doesn't believe Desmond is her cousin or whatever excuse she's giving.

She's well muscled from her training, prefers to wear warmer coloured shirts, contrasting Reds cool coulors.

She has very nice teeth and has previously worn braces.

She doesn't need a prescription, but wears sunglasses often

Her counterpart meanwhile, is 5'9 didn't turn out to need braces because his mouth didn't have extra teeth, has lighter hair and skin then she does (taking more after mom in most verses), but startlingly dark eyes.

He's not as muscular as his not twin, but he's not in bad shape, and once impersonated her for a prank when he was younger.

He's growing a beard, and his hair long, in an effort to be less mistaken as her (is everyone colour blind mom? Probably)3

---

Red and her mom

Yah, Desmond would probably want to flee the blast radius, along with any other unfourtunate people there.

They can come to an agreement, but its super tense.

Its still better then Reds current relationship with her father (almost non exsistant, due to both sides not keeping in much contact for years).

But like

"Ah. Mother. How is Father these days?"

"Well enough. You would know If you came home occasionaly Carnelian"

"I dont go by that. And we both know its not me he would seek out, even if I were there"

"You know I'm not in the habit of useing nicknames, Carnelian. You are going to have to tell him your not dead sometime?"

" I dont see that it would make much of a diffrance to him. Never mind, that I didnt come here for small talk."

"Always looking for something, Carnelian. Well, spit it out"

Their manerisims durring this "chat" are remarkably similar. Though Red has her fathers colouring, you can see the similarities here.

Reds mother taught her (was teaching her) Greek, back in the day. Apparantly for buisness reasons, and that Red might as well learn a diffrent alphabet style while shes young.

She will, at one point in the story, cacth up with MT, and some others in her faimly. Its going to involve a lot of yelling (after all, you wernt actually dead, is a hell of a thing to learn, but at this point Reds used to it)

---

Jasper Twin AU

Jaspers not her twin, so much as an alternate her counterpart. Neverless, I wrote this long ago for their birthday. Which is on December 21st-22 (Desmomd Miles Death day). One of lifes paralles

Twin AU

(for their birthday)

Winter

---

"Get up Jazz"

Cold fingers dug under the blanket, and poked his stomach.

"Nooo" he moaned into his pillow, trying to hold the blankets in place.

The fingers were relentless. Not satisfied with poking him, they began to tickle him.

"You are a terrible person" He told her. "I hope you know that, petite soeur."

She poked him again for that one.

"Alright, alright, I'm up. Do you even sleep? Or are you powered by evil, and no longer need sleep."

"I'm powered by chocolate"

"I accept any and all offerings of chocolate. Except dark."

"Come on. We have to set up, if we want to win fight."

"It's a snowball fight."

"It is as serious as a blood feud. We must give no quarter, to the kids from the west!"

"It's too early for your dramatics!"

"I'll put snow in your bed."

She would. He knew from experience.

Sluggishly, he got up, and went to go see what was for breakfast

---

Family prefrences (sick food)

Red likes tomato soup, and when she's feeling more like solids, she likes grilled cheese with it.

Jasper likes Pea soup, and toast. So does his mom, but she makes dumplings with it. His dad, likes pho.

Monique likes Beef and Barley stew, and homemade buns.

Alyssa likes miso soup.

Rae likes squash, or chowder.

David likes porridge with honey, his wife asks for, hot and sour soup.

When they are sick, they have Lemon and honey tea. It's family tradition. Some thought Red and Jazes mom would protest, but her parents go to sick tea involved vinegar, and nope, not doing that.

The Ryan siblings and Alyssa, seem to share a preference.

#red jordan ryan #MT ryan #character writing #original character #writing #jasper jordan ryan #assassins creed

0 notes

astradrifting · 3 years

Note

GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.

Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.

“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”

(TWOIAF, Aegon II)

I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”

Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”

Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.

Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.

This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.

(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)

Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:

“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

(ACOK, Tyrion XII)

So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:

- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s

- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it

- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister

- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once

- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”

- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.

- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)

And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!

- the youngest child of their family

- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war

- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age

- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong

- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious

- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral

- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)

Thanks for the ask!

#astra rambles #asks #its not quite 5000 words but i got it in under the deadline stumpy :P #half speculation half 'my wildest dreams and hopes'#anti tyrion lannister #kind of #rickon stark #jon snow #sansa stark #arya stark #anti got #speculation #meta #dod 2.0 #dod parallels

85 notes · View notes

babyboibucky · 3 years

Text

Stages - Part 2

Pairing: AU!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,780

Summary: Bucky slowly realizes that he wants to cross the line of friendship with you.

A/N: Well, well, well. I obviously lost control and wrote a long-ass part lmfao

STAGES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

TWO: DENIAL

On the day you landed your first job, Nat decided that a night out must take place in order to celebrate. All your college friends were there: Bucky, Nat, Steve and Sam. All of you hopped from one bar to another, took body shots, played beer pong— basically, it was a crazy, wild night.

Knowing that you didn’t have the best tolerance for alcohol, Bucky kept his eye on you the entire night. He always made sure that you were safe whenever you all went clubbing and that night was no exception. Although he was extra protective of you and this didn’t go unnoticed.

“Someone do a body shot on me!” You screamed and hopped on top of the bar counter, earning cheers from everyone in the club.

“Quick, take a video of this!” Sam nudged Nat who immediately fished her phone out of her pocket.

Bucky restlessly stayed close to you to make sure that you weren’t going to do something stupid. You didn’t need to have alcohol in running in your system to do crazy shit, what more if you were actually shit-faced drunk.

“Put the salt on her tits!” Nat yelled.

Bucky glared at her and then turned to Steve with a shocked expression on his face, “What the actual fuck?”

Steve chuckled and shook his head, “Well, what’s new?”

More cheers erupted from the crowd when you sat on the bar counter and let the bartender dust some salt into your cleavage.

“Any volunteers?” He asked.

“I’ll take the shot.”

Bucky’s ears perked at the voice of a guy, probably around your age. He was tall and lean, he was good-looking to be honest. But Bucky didn’t like his aura. At all. He didn’t like how the guy eyed you from head to toe, how he licked his lips as he squeezed through the crowd to get to you like a predator stalking its prey.

The guy was up to no good, Bucky could tell.

“You ready?” The bartender asked you.

“I was born ready!” You exclaimed at the top of your lungs, eyes lidded as the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed began to take over your senses.

Bucky could feel his blood boil with how the guy was too touchy as he waited for the bartender to give him his shot. The way his hands squeezed your waist, how they slid lower so he could get a feel of your ass. Or how he kept on whispering to your ear, his lips brushing against your cheek as you merely chuckled in your drunken stupor.

The bartender handed the shot glass to the guy and it was at that moment that Bucky knew that he wasn’t going to let the guy have his way with you.

“Hell fucking no.” Bucky said and rushed over to you, snatching the shot glass from the guy and gulping it down in one go.

“No body shots tonight, everybody. Have a great night!” Bucky said as he ushered you away from the perv.

The crowd booed Bucky as he glared at the guy who looked ready to deck him. Thank god for Steve who placed a heavy hand on the guy’s shoulder, squeezing it as a warning.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Steve pointed out.

Bucky pushed you away from the crowd despite your protests, “The fuck is wrong with you?” You slurred.

Bucky deadpanned, “That sleazy fucker was about to swallow your tits.” He said, sitting you down on one of the couches in the club.

You pouted, “I have salt all over my boobs.” You said, looking down at your cleavage before looking up at Bucky through your lashes as he stood in front of you.

Bucky blushed at how fucking innocent you looked, something he never really noticed about you until now. The way your eyes fluttered in an attempt to keep them open, how your cheeks were flushed from the tequila running through your body.

“Well, if you didn’t volunteer to do a fucking body shot then you wouldn’t have that problem.” Bucky scolded you, turning to Steve and grabbing the glass of water he had brought for you to drink.

“Here, drink.” Bucky instructed you, pushing the glass of water into your face.

You shook your head, “Clean it up first.” you told him.

“Clean what?” Bucky asked.

“The salt on my boobs. Clean it.” you said with a pout, finally drinking the glass of water and burping out loud afterwards, making Bucky cringe.

“Fuck no, wipe it off with a tissue. I’m not licking salt off of your chest.” He said.

“You’re no fun, Barnes.” You huffed out. “Imma go...fuck...I wanna throw up.” You hiccupped and stood up, wobbling your way towards the bathroom.

Bucky approached Nat and nagged her to follow you into the bathroom to make sure you were fine.

“You know, you’re acting strange.” Nat observed with a sly grin. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re in love with your best friend.” She teased.

“First of all, that’s gross. And second, everyone knows how much of a pain in my ass she is when drunk. I’m preventing said pain in my ass, that’s all.” Bucky defended. “Now go and follow her, make sure she throws up in the toilet and not on the ground.” Bucky said and pushed Nat towards the direction of the bathroom.

“Fuck no, I’m not cleaning up her mess. Why don’t you go instead?” Nat complained before walking away.

Bucky? In love with you?

“Me? In love with her? Gross.” Bucky uttered under his breath, unable to notice that Nat was smirking as she walked away and disappeared into the dance floor.

Bucky snapped out of his trance when he heard Sam’s voice calling for him. He grunted when he looked around and saw that Nat had disappeared. Looking over at Sam who was watching drunken girls squeal as they rushed out of the bathroom, he figured out that you failed to reach the toilet before actually puking.

Running a hand through his hair, Bucky quickly ran to the bathroom and sighed when he saw you kneeling by the entrance, your vomit pooling around your knees.

“Good god.” he huffed and bent over to pick you up, “I fucking knew you wouldn’t make it. C’mere.” he said and brought you over to the sink.

Bucky made sure to hold your hair, keeping it away from your face as you continued to throw up for the next minute.

“You’re disgusting, Christ.” Bucky said as he watched you heave out a couple more times before whining.

“My throat is burning and the world is spinning.” you sang, gripping onto the edge of the sink to steady yourself.

Seeing how fucking drunk you were, Bucky turned on the faucet and began cleaning you up almost drowning you when he continuously splashed water onto your face. He then took out his handkerchief, soaked it in water and began wiping your arms and legs which had remnants of your vomit.

“Bucky.” you slurred as you leaned against the sink while Bucky was bent down, cleaning up your legs.

He hummed in response but didn’t say anything.

“Buckyyy, bonky boo...booboo...” you giggled.

Bucky looked up at you with a confused look on his face, “The fuck are you saying?”

“Are you my boyfriend?” you suddenly asked.

“How many fucking shots did you take?” Bucky asked as he stood up, unable to bite back his amusement at your antics.

“What’s your shirt made of, huh? Boyfriend material? ‘Cause you look like a boyfriend...my boyfriend.” you said and laughed, throwing your head back.

Bucky felt his heart flutter as he gazed at you with a certain glint in his eyes. You looked so carefree with your head thrown back as you laughed. Even with your face all wet from the water and your hair sticking on your forehead, you looked really pretty. Hell, you smelled like vomit and yet Bucky found himself adoring you as you kept giggling and slurring your words.

Nat’s words rang in his head like an alarm, sending his senses into overdrive and panic.

If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re in love with your best friend.

As if it was all the wake up call that he needed, Bucky’s eyes went wide as he shook his head.

“Fuck no.” he said as he stared at you, neck and ears red at all the weird thoughts crowding his brain.

He began slapping your cheek gently, “You look ugly and you smell like vomit. Definitely not girlfriend material.” he said and it was most likely directed at himself rather than at you.

As if he was reminding himself that you were still the same girl in college who had the ugliest haircut he had ever seen.

“God, I fucking hate these heels.” You complained as you bent down to fix the strap while you gripped Bucky’s arm for support.

“Maybe if you actually listened to me and bought the other pair I showed you, you wouldn’t be whining like a fucking bitch.” Bucky complained as he watched you fiddle with the straps every now and then.

“That pair was hideous!” You told Bucky as you straightened up, your hand still wrapped around his arm.

“Hideous but comfortable. Don’t make me fucking carry you when you finally decide to give up on those damn shoes.” He said, waving over at the waiter passing by to grab some champagne.

Bucky frowned when he saw someone arrive at the reception of your cousin’s wedding. He quickly handed you the glass of champagne, “You’re gonna need this.” He whispered, tipping his head towards your father who just showed up.

You knew that your father will be attending your cousin’s wedding, it was the reason why your mom who was supposedly your plus one, decided not to go. So automatically, you had asked Bucky to accompany you knowing that you’ll be seeing your father again after the divorce, ten years ago.

If only you didn’t love your cousin, you would’ve ditched her wedding for sure.

Your breath hitched when you followed the direction of Bucky’s eyes. True enough, your father was there and he wasn’t alone; someone younger was clutching his arm, smiling sheepishly at your aunts and uncles that your father had approached. You downed the champagne in one go and wished it was enough to loosen up your nerves.

“Can you stop squeezing my arm?” Bucky asked, feeling your fingers clench around his elbow tightly.

Your grip on Bucky tightened even more when your father’s gaze landed on you. The closer he got to where you and Bucky stood, the tighter you held onto Bucky.

“Breathe.” Bucky bent down to whisper to you as he gently removed your hand from his arm so he could place it on the small of your back for support.

“Wow. Hi.” Your father greeted you with a smile. He glanced over at Bucky and tipped his head in acknowledgment.

Bucky offered a tight-lipped smile before focusing his attention on you. You looked pale, not even your make-up managed to give color to your face at that moment.

“How have you been? It’s been...so long.” Your father asked and Bucky could tell that the question was genuine.

But he also knew that you hated your father with a passion and that no matter how sincere he would be, it wouldn’t be enough for you to forgive him. It was as if you spaced out and if Bucky hadn’t gently tapped your back, you wouldn’t have responded.

“I’m good.” You stated, voice small and shaky.

Bucky noticed that your father too didn’t know what to do or say. The both of you just remained still with unspoken questions hanging in the air. The woman beside your father must’ve felt that awkward atmosphere and cleared her throat.

“Hi, I’m Diana. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She chirped and extended a hand.

Bucky watched as your eyes slowly went from Diana’s face down to her hand where two rings sat on her finger, one with a princess-cut diamond and the other, a simple silver band but with tiny diamonds studded around it.

“You’re married?” You asked your father, leaving Diana’s hand hanging in the air awkwardly.

“You actually remarried.” You bitterly chuckled. “For how long?” You asked.

Bucky’s hand on your back was now wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady on your feet.

Your father opened his mouth but nothing came out. It was then that Bucky understood the gravity of the situation. You’d told him about your parents’ divorce, how they slowly started to lose interest in each other and how they ended up fighting daily. All these years you thought that it was a simple falling out, that one day they both woke up knowing that they no longer loved each other.

Diana straightened her posture, “Ten years.” She responded.

All hell broke loose.

A string of hushed curses escaped from your mouth as you angrily addressed your father’s betrayal. You’d been angry at him for giving up on your mom that easily, for not fighting for your custody...for simply disappearing from your life after the divorce.

All this time you’d been angry at him for all the wrong reasons.

He’d been cheating on your mom. It was the reason why he had signed the papers immediately and without any hesitation. You couldn’t understand why your mom hid this from you, why she never told you the real reason why she filed for a divorce.

“I will never ever fucking forgive you.” It was the last thing you said before running out of the venue, your painful heels long forgotten.

Bucky ran after you and grabbed your arm, stopping you in the middle of the hotel lobby. You thought he was going to reprimand you for being rude to your father or that he was going to ask you to go back to the reception and finish the program out of respect. But instead, Bucky bent down and started to unbuckle the straps of your heels.

“If you’re going to dramatically walk out, make sure you won’t fall flat on your fucking face. That shit’s embarrassing as fuck.” Bucky said and carefully removed your heels.

He knew you were holding back your tears and he honestly thought that the dam was going to break. But remained stubborn and managed to suppress your emotions. For some reason, Bucky wanted to pull you into his embrace and tell you that it was okay to cry.

“Go forth and walk out.” Bucky dramatically told you, motioning towards the grand double doors of the hotel.

A smile. Bucky felt proud for making you smile despite the tension a few minutes ago. He watched you chuckle at his gesture and Bucky couldn’t help but laugh along.

“C’mon, let’s go buy some burgers. Food here is shit anyway.” He told you as he began to walk towards the exit.

However, you remained standing behind him with a frown as you stooped down to your feet. Bucky grunted, “Please don’t tell me—“

“My feet hurt.” You told him.

Bucky rolled his eyes but walked back towards you, groaning as he turned on his back and bent down, “Hop on, bitch.”

You quickly jumped on his back and wrapped your arms around his neck, grabbing your heels from Bucky’s hand so he could carry you properly, “And I thought you said you wouldn’t carry me.” You teased.

“Knowing how much of a whiny bitch you are, I’d rather carry your heavy ass than deal with your complaints.”

Bucky bit back the smile that had been tugging at his lips. He could smell your shampoo at how close your face was to him, could feel the smoothness of your legs as he held onto them; how you held onto him.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You told him ever so softly, voice barely above a whisper.

He knew that you weren’t just thanking him for carrying you. You were also grateful for him simply being there when things went to shit with your father. If he wasn’t there, you probably wouldn’t know how to deal with the situation. And you appreciated how he didn’t stop you from your outburst, how he didn’t force you to go back in and apologize for the scene you had caused.

Bucky supported you in all the ways you needed him to support you.

“Anything for you.” Bucky replied, but only in his mind because he wasn’t quite ready to face the truth.

The truth that his heart was beginning to flutter whenever you were around.

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @hersilencedscreams @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14

Stages Tag List:

@ambitiousandbitchious @its-yasbxtch

#bbbwrites #stages #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

311 notes · View notes

jedimaesteryoda · 3 years

Text

What was in Prince Nymor’s Letter to Aegon I?

Background

Aegon the Conqueror managed to forge the Seven Kingdoms into one with his dragons, but there was one exception: Dorne. The First Dornish War marked the only war where a kingdom managed to avoid subjugation by the Iron Throne.

The Dornish avoided open battle as well as holing in fortresses. Rhaenys found all the castles in Dorne empty as she flew on Meraxes as the Dornish forces melted away.

Meria: I will not fight you, nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that. Rhaenys: I shall, but we will come again, Princess, and next time we shall come with fire and blood. Meria: Your words, Ours are Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. You may burn us, my lady, but you will not bend us, break us, or make us bow. This is Dorne. You are not wanted here. Return at your peril.

Princess Meria waited for her in Sunspear just to tell her off. Aegon placed his men to control castles, and declared victory only for the Dornish forces to return. Meria threw Lord Rosby from a window herself.

Also, apparently the Dornish didn’t play nice. Entire garrisons were put to the sword. Knights were tortured, and Lord Wyl cut off the hands of captured prisoners-of-war, including Aegon’s Hand, Orys Baratheon. These actions violated the codes of chivalry, and had Aegon and his bannermen howling for vengeance, which led to a bloody cycle of retaliation and reappraisals.

Aegon’s retaliation was swift as he and his sisters took to their dragons and burned Dornish castles. The Dornish responded by burning half the rainwood and sacking half a dozen towns and villages. The Targaryens then responded by burning more Dornish castles in dragonflame. The Dornish response to that was Lord Fowler capturing Nightfall and taking its occupants hostage and razing the nearby villages and towns. The Targaryens, then predictably, responded with their dragons again, but this time, miraculously, the Dornish managed to take down a dragon. A scorpion bolt in a one in a million shot, hit Meraxes in the eye, killing the dragon and ostensibly, the rider, Rhaenys.

The death of Aegon’s favorite sister-wife was of course a huge personal blow, and it marked the start of the next two years of the war appropriately named the Dragon’s Wroth, the nadir of the war. Aegon and Visenya's initial response was to burn every castle in Dorne, except Sunspear. Some castles were even burned more than once with Hellholt, the site of Meraxes’s death, being burned three times. Aegon and Visneya also placed bounties on the heads of Dornish lords to which the Dornish responded by placing bounties on their heads as well as those of their allies. Half a dozen Dornish lords were assassinated while Aegon and Visneya survived several assassination attempts, and Lord Fell was murdered in a brothel.

Finally, Meria Martell died, and was succeeded by her son, Nymor. Nymor took a different approach compared to his mother, and sent his daughter and heir, Deria, to King’s Landing with Meraxes’s skull and a letter. While Aegon’s queen and advisors pushed for Aegon to harm Deria, Aegon refused and heard out Deria.

Dorne wanted peace, according to Deria—but the peace of two kingdoms no longer at war, not the peace between a vassal and a lord. Many urged His Grace against this, and the phrase "no peace without submission" was often heard in the halls of the Aegonfort. It was claimed that the king would look weak should he agree to such a demand and that the lords of the Reach and stormlands who had suffered so much for his cause would be angered.

Swayed by such considerations, it is said, King Aegon was determined to refuse the offer until Princess Deria placed in his hands a private letter from her father, Prince Nymor. Aegon read it upon the Iron Throne, and men say that when he rose, his hand was bleeding, so hard had he clenched it. He burned the letter and departed immediately on Balerion's back for Dragonstone. When he returned the next morning, he agreed to the peace and signed a treaty to that effect.

Aegon read Nymor’s letter, burned it, and left for Dragonstone on Balerion that day, only to return the following morning and to his court’s surprise, agree to Nymor’s terms of ending the First Dornish War with the Iron Throne recognizing Dorne’s independence.

No one knows the contents of that letter, but there are theories as to what was in that letter that led Aegon to forgo his aim to conquer Dorne and agree to Nymor’s peace. Let’s look at the possibilities offered.

1. Did he threaten to take all the wealth of Dorne to hire the Faceless Men to kill Aegon's young son and heir, Aenys?

The problem with this one is Aegon "flew to Sunspear on Balerion on the tenth anniversary of the peace accords to celebrate ‘a feast of freindship’ with Deria Martell” with Aenys accompanying him. I doubt Aegon would willingly celebrate such a treaty with Princess Deria, and do so, by bringing along the son they threatened to kill if he didn’t sign. That would just make things awkward.

Also, the whole point of hiring an assassin, especially a Faceless Man, is to get someone killed without you being implicated. If you say that “if person A dies, it's definitely because of me,” that would be a clear invitation to retaliation from the victim’s family and allies.

The man whom this threat was made to burned every castle in Dorne in retaliation for Rhaenys’s death. It doesn’t take much speculation to imagine how he would have responded to the death of his son borne by that same woman. A threat like that likely wouldn’t have intimidated Aegon into signing the treaty, but more likely angered him and provoked threats of retaliation.

One must also note that by the time of the meeting (13 AC) Maegor had just been born the year before (12 AC). Even with Aenys dead, Aegon would still have had a son to continue the Targaryen line, and it wouldn’t have been a permanent end to the Targaryen threat.

2. Did Nymor reveal that Rhaenys lived still, broken and mutilated, and that he would end her suffering if Aegon ended hostilities?

It doesn’t take a genius to see the problems with this one. For Aegon, the idea of Rhaenys having been left broken after being tortured and mutilated for two years undoubtedly would have enraged him in such a manner that would have befit his sobriquet “the Dragon”, and had him threatening swift and brutal retaliation. He would have demanded Rhaenys back, no matter what condition she was in. I also seriously doubt Aegon would take Rhaenys’s son, Aenys, to celebrate the peace with Deria that was signed on the condition of killing his tortured mother.

Nymor would also have demonstrated himself to be an idiot by needlessly endangering his daughter, Deria. By sending her, he would have handed Aegon a potentially valuable hostage on a silver platter that Aegon could use to counter any threats against Rhaenys. It also undermined the message of goodwill by bringing the skull of Meraxes.

There is also the question of if they had Rhaenys alive this whole time, why the hell didn’t they use her before, the moment they had captured her? The Dornish would have to be complete fools to not see how valuable a hostage Aegon’s favorite sister-wife could be. They at the very least could have used her to negotiate a ceasefire, and given themselves some respite.

3. Was the letter ensorceled?

Short answer: no. I don’t think we’ve seen magic capable of influencing someone’s consciousness with the most being tales of love potions.

4. Some claim it was a simple plea, from one father to another, heartfelt words that touched King Aegon’s heart.

This seems a little too romantic. I mean even if the words did touch Aegon’s heart, there were still political realities to consider, and I don’t see how relating as a father would move Aegon enough to forget about Rhaenys, the woman who first made him a father to begin with.

5. Others insist it was a list of all those lords and noble knights who lost their lives during the war.

I admit while showing a king the human costs of his war isn’t unappealing to me, one must note that “the Reach, the stormlands and the marches had suffered grievously during the fighting, and would never forgive and forget.” The relatives of those same lords and knights who died in the Dornish War largely wanted the war to continue to avenge their relatives, and would potentially have seen a Dornish peace without submission seemingly make those deaths in vain.

It also wouldn’t be the first time Aegon suffered a personal loss in his conquest. He lost his distant cousin and one of his family’s closest friends, Daemon Velaryon, in the first Targaryen assault on the Vale. Yet, he continued his conquest regardless.

What actually was in the letter?

Think back to Robert’s Rebellion with Dornish anger over the horrific deaths of Elia and her children as well as the death of Lewyn at the Battle of the Trident. Jon Arryn managed to avoid rebellion by the Dornish by returning Lewyn’s bones to Dorne, and negotiating with Prince Doran.

Returning the remains of a fallen relative is an act of respect. It is mentioned that Rhaenys’s bones were never returned. Neither were the bones Elia and her children, but that was because they were given the Targaryen custom of cremation.

I think Rhaenys’s body was likely given the same treatment. What Nymor may have mentioned in the letter is that he was returning Rhaenys’s ashes from her funeral pyre to Dragonstone. That is why Aegon left for Dragonstone that day on Balerion, he wanted to meet up with the ship carrying her urn.

That leaves the question of why Aegon burned the letter. The reason is probably the same as why Aegon had no close friends except Orys: he was a very private person, and this was a very personal matter to him.

Throughout the war, both sides did a lot of awful stuff with the Targaryens burning everything in Dorne in dragonflame, and the Dornish responding by engaging in torture, mutilation and assassination (which the Targaryens did first). All those actions did was escalate the war, and result in more brutal retaliation from the Targaryens with each side upping the violence, brutality and destruction. However, by performing this one honorable gesture, Nymor managed to succeed where his mother failed in ending Aegon’s attempts to subdue Dorne.

#dorne #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #house targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #aegon the conqueror #aegon targaryen #aegon #visenya targaryen #house martell #uller #balerion #meraxes #aenys targaryen #sunspear

152 notes · View notes

shepherds-of-haven · 3 years

Note

If characters had a Game of Thrones style house banner and motto, what would they be?

Ooh, this is an interesting one!

House Bronwyn: "The Darkness Answers" or "Weapons in the Silent Night" - a silver wolf on a field of black, with a white blade piercing the background. Their house is known for operating as a kind of shadow military that influences and directs things from the shadows, and although the wolf has connotations of solitude and aloofness, they are actually extremely loyal "pack-animals" who form a tight-knit clan and unwaveringly answer the call of duty... no matter how bloody their hands may get from answering.

House Alder: "First in the Charge" or "Our Fury Shakes Them" - a gold lion roaring rampant on a field of red (so, yeah, Gryffindor I guess!). This one is fairly self-explanatory--the Alder house is known by others to produce some of the fiercest and most courageous warriors, though they also have a reputation for being brash and hot-headed. Alder soldiers are always sent in to "hold the line" and are infamous for never abandoning the field or retreating, even when it leads to certain death. "Our Fury Shakes Them" also refers to their propensity to use cannon-fire and gun blasts to destroy their enemies.

House Ironwood: "Our Roots Run Deep" or "The First, The Last, The Eternal" - a golden oak tree on a forest-green banner with a trim of autumn red. Their house is among the oldest and was once known as one of the most powerful military forces on the Continent, with a cadre of skilled Elven knights being produced by that house, but as time went on and the world changed, the house fell into semi-obscurity or became more known for its archival work and love of history, causing some to look down on it as a house of scholars. Whenever they try to invoke the promises and alliances of old, others roll their eyes at House Ironwood's unwillingness to change and adapt to the world around it. As a result, House Ironwood tends to isolate itself from other houses, swearing only to trust their own kind. Their current scion gets them into a lot of trouble for challenging an heir of a Norm house to a duel for slandering the name of House Ironwood, and then killing him in the ensuing standoff. This has led to military reprisals against House Ironwood, and they find themselves in a precarious position of being surrounded by enemies and having isolated former friends.

House Acquell: "Faith is a Shield and Love the Cure" or "Many Hearts Beating as One" - a Celtic-looking knot or a chain of hands interlocking around a heart. This house is looked down upon by more militaristic houses for being a generally trusting, pacifistic house. Its holdings are small and its lineage is quite new, but the house is beloved by its own people due to its scions working as healers, clerics, and devotees of charity, often seen among the streets of their city and passing out food and coin. House Acquell is an extremely religious house, and many of its heirs and heiresses join the Church to become priests and priestesses. The founder of the house was first canonized as a saint.

House Syndran: "Out of Cruelty, Justice" or "The Cunning Conquer" - a black crow or raven spreading its wings on a field of royal purple. This house was built on mercantile roots, but its influence now stretches far and wide, reaching into all matters of business, politics, intrigue, and even war. Its scions are famed for their ruthlessness and willingness to go completely scorched-earth on their enemies, and for their ability to lie and manipulate even nominal allies with completely straight faces. The house leader always bears a gold-capped walking cane. Although its military power is weak, it makes up for it with the host of allies under its economic control. You can always make out the Syndrans at a party by the cadre of serious-faced, dark-haired heirs staring at the proceedings like they're a play under watchful critique. Although not known for being friendly, House Syndran also prides itself on impeccable etiquette and manners.

House Trinaeste: "If I Am Not Free, Then I Am Dead" or "Many Skills, Many Virtues" - a black cat on a field of gold, with two crossed daggers in the background and a key lying at its feet. The "Many Skills, Many Virtues" motto is something of an in-joke, because this house is known for its willingness to train its heirs in even unsavory skills--such as thievery and seduction--in order to ensure their survival. Many heirs are sent to special training at a secret academy on an island south of Conte--though what they are taught there, no one but the Trinaestes knows for sure. As such, this house is shunned by many for its unorthodox values and behavior, and not much is known about the inner workings of the house itself. The heirs and heiresses all seem like empty-headed fops who love to chase skirts (or whatever article of clothing they so desire), so no one ever takes them seriously... but that's their mistake, because House Trinaeste actually has the greatest network of spymasters and intelligence operatives this world has ever seen. They apparently have a lot of bastard children or sometimes even unrelated orphans whom they happily accept into their house anyway, which is another reason why the other houses shun them. They also supposedly have some ties to seafarers and pirates as well as a fleet of ships at their disposal.

House Antiqua: "The Road Not Taken" or "The World to Roam" - a golden globe on a field of deep scarlet/maroon/magenta, though from certain angles, the globe can also like the sun or moon (or all three). House Antiqua is composed of just straight up scholars. Sometimes a second son or a third daughter goes into military service or serves in a great battle and makes a distinction of themselves, but it's never on the level of an Alder, Bronwyn, Aescar, or Stormbreaker. By and large, they're known as a house of oddly-attractive, well-born nerds, more fodder for marriages and families rather than candidates that could bring about great change. They don't really get much of a say in anything among the greater houses, but that suits them just fine. They're like the classic Jane Austen-style families where they just hang out and read books and entertain visitors sometimes LMAO. They are neither very rich nor destitute; neither isolated nor up in everyone's business. They are on friendly terms with most houses, but no one takes them all that seriously when it comes to important matters like war or politics. They are known to serve as advisors and consultants in times of need, however. Many of their heirs leave the house and travel across the world using secret identities when they reach a certain age; it's something of a cliché among their inner circle. They eventually develop strong ties to House Syndran after one son casually beats the Syndran heir in chess during a party.

House Aescar: "The Wind is With Us" or "It Is Us Who Fly" - a tan flying eagle with a serpent-like staff clutched in its talons, soaring on a field of light blue. House Aescar is known for its terrifying use of theatrics in order to instill fear into the hearts of their enemies on the battlefield. They utilize war paint, war chants and screams, and unsettling war horns in order to rev up their soldiers before battle. Like House Alder, they have a reputation for not having a head for politics; they'd prefer you to just point them at the enemy and let them do their thing, and they have little patience for the trappings of politics and diplomacy. If the Continent were divided up into wards where certain houses were in charge of defending the borders from invasion, House Aescar would be the guardians of the West; House Prince, House Ironwood, and House Bronwyn would the guardians of the North; House Stormbreaker, House Trinaeste, and House Syndran would be the guardians of the South; and House Alder, House Antiqua, and House Naveen would be the guardians of the East. The fact that House Aescar is tasked with guarding the West alone is a point of pride for its heirs and scions. The youth of the house tends to be charged with going on a pilgrimage throughout their lands to observe how the common folk live. They are expected to return with worthwhile thoughts or findings about how to improve the house or its holdings, and if their opinions are interesting and well-thought-out, they are allowed a voice in the house's governing council.

House Prince: "Keepers of the North" or "Righteous in Wrath" or "Darkness Flees Our Light" - a white spear with a white shield behind it, radiating rays of light on a field of black. Not much is known about House Prince, except that its current heirs are a set of twin boys. Its military force is known for being utterly loyal, almost to the point of fanaticism, and the house has close ties to House Bronwyn due to their proximity to each other. House Prince is known among the other houses for being insistent on keeping its bloodlines pure and marrying its heirs to the Hunter scions of other close-knit families or even distant cousins, leading some to joke surreptitiously that the house is "incestuous." At one point in time, the older twin heir of the current generation disappeared for a year or two, forcing his brother to assume the guise of both twins to prevent the house from looking weaker to its outside enemies. Certain heirs of the Prince House are said to be cursed with a mysterious affliction that causes them to fall into fits of madness and rage, especially at the sight of blood, and for these reasons, many of them live in reclusive isolation in their castle, rarely seen by the outside world.

House Stormbreaker: "Thunder and Lightning" or "The Storm Stands Vigilant" or "From the Stars We Came, To the Stars We Rise" - a golden, starry ship sailing on a teal sea as lightning splits the banner in half and a dragon swims underneath the ship. House Stormbreaker is among the most sought-after houses for its explosive military prowess and strength, affording it a lot of political and negotiating power. Its heirs and scions are known to be gifted with extraordinary strength and a strange knack for avoiding almost certain death, serving with distinction as battlemasters, generals, and occasionally as knights and champions. A legendary sword is said to be passed from leader to leader, with no one but those of pure Stormbreaker blood being able to even pick the sword up. They are also known as a clan of sailors and are able to deploy their own naval fleet to defend the coastline as needed. Although they have a ferocious, proud, and hot-tempered reputation, heirs of the Stormbreaker house are sometimes not taken seriously in matters of court due to their strange pink hair. Despite this, scions of House Stormbreaker are among the most sought-after candidates for marriage, as people desire their mysterious superstrength and magic to be incorporated into their own houses. However, for reasons unknown, the House Stormbreaker is extremely strict with such marriages, and arrangements are often made three or more generations ahead of time in a careful curation of the bloodline.

House Naveen: "Gold in Peace, Steel in War" or "Not Without Thorns" - a scarlet rose on a field of lavender with two crossed rapiers in the background. House Naveen is the most powerful and influential of all of the Houses when it comes to sheer political power, rivalled only by House Syndran. Its military strength is only better than average, but its holdings, wealth, and political connections are vast and storied. Its current heiress is infamous for refusing suitors and continually denying her father's attempts to secure a marriage, focusing instead on joining chivalric orders and continually maneuvering situations in House Naveen's favor. House Naveen holds the honor of being among the last houses to continue ancient traditions such as jousting and knightly tournaments, but it's their celebrations and social occasions that the house is truly known for. The Naveens are said to employ a spy in the servants of every house aside from House Bronwyn, Prince, and Ironwood. What they do with that information, however, no one knows. On the surface, the Naveen house seems to be largely magnanimous and benign... Interestingly, they have offered an extension of aid to House Ironwood to get out of its dueling problem, but so far, House Ironwood has not given a reply.

House Naveen has also been largely matriarchal in the past, something that still informs its power structure to this day. This makes it a target of scorn by other powerful and male-led noble houses (such as House Eddon, Auberon's house), but it's something that the Naveens flaunt proudly with the rose as their insignia!

#Shepherds of Haven #sorry I don't know game of thrones LGJRGJR I don't know why I felt the need to give backstory but I guess I always do #motto #heraldry #house motto #banner #banners #mottos #all characters #game of thrones #game of thrones AU #?#AU #i never watched it and didn't like the first book when I was like 14 so don't @ me with details i don't know anything!!#tw: incest mention

84 notes · View notes

liddolwhynot2000 · 3 years

Text

Falling

____________________________________

Summary: Cause Levi can't help falling in love with you.

____________________________________

Pairing: Levi Ackerman X Reader

____________________________________

Levi sat on a log, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together, staring at nothing in particular. The sun was setting, but he hardly cared to watch it, too lost in thought.

When Kenny had taken him under his wing all those years ago, he had taught Levi plenty of things. How to use a knife, how to make ‘friends’. Some lessons he preferred to forget, while others he latched on to as a way of life. There was one lesson in particular that he would spend the rest of his life following, almost religiously.

Violence is always the answer.

Hungry? Threaten someone into giving you food. Being held at gun point? Kick the crap out of them. Not getting the answers you want? Torture. Rip out their nails. Break their back.

That was the guideline for surviving in the underground. Dominate everyone using brute force. Make a reputation so fierce that only senseless morons would challenge you. Admittedly, it had worked well for him. He had become the top dog in that dreary, dark hell. Able to eat three times a day, wear decent clothes. He, Farlan and Isabel had survived well for a good amount of time. That is, until they had their first taste of sunlight.

In hindsight, taking that mission had been a foolish mistake. He had lost his cherished friends, and while he now got along with his cormades, it just wasn’t the same. Other parts of his life, however, continued to remain as before.

The surface may have lacked the unhinged lawlessness of the underground, but Levi still utilized his usual methods of living, albeit more legally.

In his years in the military, he had used his superior physical strength to instill fear and discipline. Cadets, high ranking members of the military, even the Queen often cowered before him in fear. Any other man would enjoy the thrill of it, reducing the most powerful people in his country into meek versions of themselves, unable to properly look him in the eye.

And he did. A part of him would always be smug about it, solely because underground filth like him, who had been expected to waste away his life, had managed to climb to a position at the top that no else held.

But it was tiring now. He had become so.. lonely. Everyone he had let into his heart left him. His sweet mother, crazy Kenny, his siblings in all but blood, Farlan and Isabel. Here he was, surprisingly wealthy and popular, but missing his precious people.

Alas, he would never let someone in like that again. The rest of his life was destined to be spent alone, threatening everyone in hearing range and dying on the battlefield. And, with a sigh, he accepted this miserable fate.

What he didn’t know was that meeting you would lead to him burning down his self established fate to ashes and dust, with his very own hands.

____________________________________

Why you had even thought about approaching him was incredulous, Levi mused to himself. An exhausted soldier sitting in the dark of a room, staring mindlessly at the table. He had showed no expression on his face but still, normal people would have been scared off just at the sight of him. You weren’t, and that’s how the two of you met.

You had made him some nice herbal tea and brought it to him. Giving him some plain biscuits along with the beverage. He had eyed you suspiciously, not willing to entertain you with even a thank you. Your intentions had been unclear to him at the time.

What was a beautiful woman like you, even Levi privately admitted to double taking at the sight of you, doing offering tea to him of all people. Kindness didn’t exist in people, he had never seen it in anyone besides his mother and Isabel. So you probably had a hidden motive. Maybe you needed a favour? Or were trying to integrate yourself in with the higher ups for better pay? Or maybe one of those dumb admirers that thought they could change him?

Once you left, after giving him another smile and telling him you hoped he would enjoy the tea, he decided to dismiss all thoughts of you. He wouldn’t help you with shit.

He did enjoy the tea though.

____________________________________

For the next two months, he began seeing you everyday. Not by choice, he told himself. He had accidentally made it a habit to sit in that room, all by himself, everyday, at the exact same time.

And everyday, without fail, you would bring him tea and biscuits. Sometimes there was a cake slice, or cookies, or even a nice meal, like rice with boiled vegetables.

He learned about you in that time. Your name, for one, which sounded oddly pleasing on his tongue. You were a garrison cook, tasked with making meals for the garrison engineers, whose office had been established right next to the Survey Corps headquarters. It explained why he kept seeing you everyday. A part of him had been strangley thrilled to hear that, as if the idea of seeing you everyday was something he actually wanted.

You never flinched around him or stuck around to talk to him for too long. Bringing him his tea with that sweet smile, asking about his day, wishing him well. You never made a face or took his obvious reluctance to talk to heart. His short answers and grunts, his crass language, they all had no effect on you. It was clear you really wanted nothing from him. No favours, no urge to get close. You were just being… kind.

And as someone who had hardly experienced genuine kindness in his life, he would let you continue. Besides, it was the first time someone was behaving around him without Levi having to force them. It was too refreshing for him to stop.

____________________________________

Levi eyed the tray in front of him warily. There was a cup of steaming tea, some sugar cubes he could add, a few biscuits and two sandwiches. He hadn’t touched it yet, even though he knew it would taste amazing, much like everything else you made. But he was rather preoccupied, unable to make sense of what he was feeling.

You hadn’t showed up today. He had waited, expecting that knock on the door, your light footsteps as you entered the room, your cheery voice to greet him. Instead, it had been another cook. Levi had scowled as the girl had blushed and stuttered around him, putting the tray on the table, not quite able to talk to him, or look him in the eye.

‘C-captain I was told to give this to you-’

His irritation had shot up through the roof and with his usual impatience, he snarled at the girl, asking for your whereabouts. Initially, he got no solid response out of her, because she didn’t know. But in the end, as she made to leave, terrified beyond belief of him, she said something that had his heart inexplicably stopping.

‘Sh-she might be o-on a date. That’s why- why she didn’t bring it today. I think’

Now here he was, eyeing the delicious spread infront of him. Except he didn’t have much of an appetite. His mind was jumbled up, unable to comprehend why he felt so.. Hurt?

Were you actually out on a date right now? Allowing some shitty lowlife to woe you? He felt resentful, unsure of himself. It shouldn’t matter to him. It wouldn’t matter to him. He refused to allow it to.

With a grimace, he put his feelings aside and began eating. He knew better then to waste good food.

____________________________________

The next day, when you came with the tray, you told him you had gone to visit your cousin who had given birth to a baby girl. The relief he had felt, knowing that you hadn’t been making goofing off with some hormonal piece of shit, had stunned him. He continued to suprise himself, by behaving like he had been possessed. As evidenced by how before you could leave, his hand shot out to grab your wrist and the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them.

‘Oi, stay. Let’s…eat together. ’

Your eyes had widened, no doubt shocked that he actually wanted you around. With a tentative smile, you nodded in agreement, taking the seat next to him. You carried the conversation, with him silently listening and interjecting his own opinion. Somehow, he had even managed to make you giggle, causing a warmth to spread in his chest. Before the two of you knew it, the tray had been emptied of its contents, yet neither of you made to leave for at least an hour more.

Later, while sitting in his chair, preparing to sleep, Levi thought back to when he had held your wrist. He marvelled at how soft and delicate you had felt in his grasp, wondering what it would feel like to have those arms hold him. Would you feel just as soft, pressed up against him? He could tell you would be gentle, he knew you possessed no mean or rough bone in your body.

Fantasising about you, and yearning to feel more of you, he drifted off to sleep.

____________________________________

He hated being on sick leave. Abhorred it. He felt useless, couldn’t do shit. Yet here he was, on a one month leave and it was all becuase of his dumbass titan brat.

Eren had been practicing hardening in his titan form, but had positioned himself wrong. He had gotten out of the crystal carcass too soon, and the damn thing had toppled over the entire crowd of soldiers standing near by. Which included him. Most had made a get away with their gear, but Erwin, having only one arm, hadn’t been fast enough. Leading to Levi having to save him in the nick of time. And fracturing his left arm and spraining his right leg.

The doctor had banned him from strenuous activity and had made it clear that he would have to spend at least a month taking it extremely easy. His Ackerman bloodline meant that, unlike other normal people, he would be completely okay within a month.

That hadn’t been enough to stop Levi from grumbing or threatening Erwin or calling the doctor an old hag. Once his fury had partially subsdided, he grudgingly accepted that he needed the rest.

He had thought of going to live at the modest house he owned, which was near headquarters. It had been a gift from the Queen, for his part in taking down Zeke Yeager. The new beast titan shifter had gained all his memories and had been instrumental in them winning the war against Marley. Last he checked, Connie had been appointed to the Northern branch, his power better utilised there in case of attacks from behind.

Erwin hadn’t allowed him to leave, insisting he had no one to take care of him and that he would probably start doing push ups after resting for a day. Which was true. Damn that bastard for knowing him so well.

So here he was, stuck in his room, waiting on the annoying brats to give him food three times a day. There was a knock on the door, probably a soldier with his breakfast, having no idea they were about to be on the recieving end of his ire. And God help Eren if he was dumb enough to be standing out that door. He called them in, only to freeze at the sight.

There you stood, that precious smile on your face, holding a tray of food in one hand and a basket. He couldn’t care less about anything else, all he could focus on was the fact that you were standing infront of him. He felt enchanted, he hadn’t seen you the entire week he had been forced to spend at the hospital.

I missed her, Levi realized.

‘Good Morning Levi!…’

You began chattering, asking for his well being, handing him the tray of food. You had brought him a care package full of goodies, which included lemon cookies, his favorite flavour.

‘Why are you here?’

The question had been asked with his usual bland tone, but there was an emotion behind it only he could identify. There was an excitement welling up in him, as though he knew the answer already.

When you told him you had heard about his injury and had wanted to visit him, he had felt pleased and touched. When you continued on and told him that you had offered Erwin to personally take care of him with your usual duties, so that all the other soldiers wouldn’t have to divide the work between them, Levi was stunned.

’.. Since we’re friends, I figured this way I could help you out and.. ’

Levi took a sip of his broth, which tasted far better then the stale soup the kitchen usually served, watching you move around his room. Anyone else would have been physically hauled and thrown out the window by now, doctors orders be damned. Yet he felt okay with you neatly folding his blanket, straightening out things that he hadn’t been able to because of his injury, comfortably taking charge of his room.

For a brief moment, he saw a vision of you taking care of him like this in his house, as his wife.

As you sat before him, drawing him into conversation, Levi decided that having the month off wasn’t going to be as miserable as thought it would be.

And he was right.

Seeing you three times a day, enjoying meals with you, you fussing over him because you caught him doing pull ups, your bell like laughter that rang in his ears long after you went back to work, it all made him feel more then he could ever define.

Remembering you bandaging his arms everyday, your hands gentle, expression sympathetic as you shyly avoided staring at his bare, muscular chest, Levi decided he would have to acknowledge what he was feeling after all.

____________________________________

Love.

He was in love with you.

Levi leaned into his chair, setting down the pen had had been writing with. The realization had struck him suddenly and he needed to process it. He had never felt so alive, so amazed.

It had been a year of knowing you, and without even trying, you had made him fall in love with your very existence.

He cherished any moment of time he could spend with you, and you often haunted his thoughts when he couldn’t see you. You were the one he wanted to see first after getting back from a mission, becuase he knew if anyone gave a fuck about him being alive, it was you.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to smile, remembering how you had hugged him that one time. He had seen you straight after a deadly battle, covered in blood and small wounds. You had been so concerned, grabbing him by the hand, dragging him to his room.

He recalled how you had been applying alcohol on the injury at the corner of his mouth, causing him to hiss in pain. Frowning, you had applied it more carefully, then brought your mouth closer and lightly blowed air on the wound to reduce the sting. You had either been too caught up in worrying about him or had pretended not to notice, but his eyes had defintiely darkened at having you in such close proximity. Your lips only inches away from his, a hand resting on his shoulder, it had been an effort to not tug on your wrist and seat you in his lap and starting something he had been craving to. Once you had finished helping him and had decided he was in better condition, you had hugged him, a moment he could never forget.

You were shorter then him, so your head rested on his chest as your arms wrapped wrapped around his back. His arms had a mind of their own, immediately taking the oppurtunity to rest on the small of your waist.

Breathing in your scent, burying his nose in your hair, he had savoured the moment. When you pulled away from him, he had frowned, not liking the tears welling up in your eyes.

‘N-never be so reckless again! I got so worried and..’

You had buried yourself in his arms again, silently crying, berating him for being so careless. Your soft form had been pressed against his rough stature, he had never had someone be so gentle with him, care about him this much.

Back in the underground, doctors often had to be threatened into treating him. He had always used force, but there was no need to use any on you. There never had been. And hopefully, there never would be.

Knock knock

Startled, he snapped out of his day dreaming, chuckling to himself. To think he had gotten so lost in his memories with you..you really had become his everything

Expression neutral, he regained himself and called the soldier in.

Now, if only he could somehow tell you.

____________________________________

A/N: I hope y’all enjoyed this! Maybe I should do a part 2? For the confession? Does anyone want that? Constructive criticism is always welcome. My asks are open so pls send requests. Till next time!

#Snk #Levi ackerman #Levi aot #Reader #Levi x reader #Levi/reader #Fluff #Levi ackerman x reader #Aot

360 notes · View notes

amoc94 · 3 years

Text

"His Pet"

Summary : Min Yoongi. A business magnate, and a mafia leader. He was everything you would never imagine to be a part of your life. Yet fate is not something to be eluded.

He would do anything to make you his.

Pairings : Yoongi × female OC (from reader's POV).

Genre : Yandere, Mafia AU.

Warning for this chapter : Dubious consensual sex scene.

This story is not for easily triggered readers or below eighteen.

Full Masterlist and elaborate warning please read here.

List of chapters here.

CHAPTER 31.

Deja vu.

The feeling that he had been in this situation before.

Things that happened the night with Estela, the haunting memories were all coming back to him now. They said history often repeated itself, but he never really believed it. Until now.

However at this moment, it wasn't Hoseok that had his body over his woman. It was Jungkook. And there was a difference. The lump that burned his throat when he swallowed hard, he could taste the fiery heat, along with the agonizing twist inside his chest.

It was far different from what he felt that night years ago. When the feeling of betrayal engulfed his mind, the only thing he wanted to do then was revenge. Whatever it was to make them pay for what they did.

But this time, a different feeling so foreign he didn't know how to call it. Jealousy, betrayed, sadness, helplessness and disappointment, a toxic mix of feeling washed over him.

"Get away from her."

He pointed his gun to Jungkook, who finally stood up, and put his body in front of you expanding his one arm, while you got up to a sitting position, frantically trying to fix your kimono behind his back. Jungkook was trying to protect you from him. He was beyond furious. You were his woman, not Jungkook's.

"Hyung, it's not like what you think."

"Get away from her. Now!" He shouted, his vision blurred from anger.

There was salty taste from the wetness that dripped slowly through his cheeks, sipping to his lips, felt bitter to his tongue.

He never shed tears for a woman before, except for his mother.

How so pathetic he was.

"We did nothing! It's just misunderstanding. I would never betray you, Hyung."

"My own cousin betrayed me before. How can I be sure if someone who's unrelated by blood won't do the same?"

Jungkook shook his head. "You knew well the thing with Estela wasn't only Hoseok hyung's fault. She kept seducing him and played the victim in front of him. Think clearly hyung, this is different."

Jungkook seemed quite calm, and Yoongi didn't like the way you squeezed yourself to the corner of the bed, clung to the bedpost, looking so terrified. He could see your smooth leg under the kimono, partly visible through the slit, and he remembered what he actually came home for initially.

An outlet. He needed an outlet, or he would go insane.

Without thinking, he aimed and shot the light bulb at the far corner of the ceiling near the TV. The gunshot and loud cracking sound of the broken glass echoing through the room. Some of the shard rained down the floor along with part of its broken fitting.

He saw you flinched, curling into fetal pose, even from his spot he could feel the trembling of your body, you tried to cover your head with both hands.

Jungkook climbed the bed, quickly reached you into his embrace.

"Stop it, hyung! You scared her!"

"I said, get away from her! Don't touch her!"

He aimed his gun to the floor lamp at the corner of the room, settled against the wall in line with the bedpost, and shot it until it fell down, the light bulb inside the shades cracked with deafening sound.

Another scream came from you as the noise probably sounded so close to where you sat on the bed. The way Jungkook held your body tighter to his chest, made Yoongi even more enraged.

Not enough.

The pain in his chest constricted his breathing, he felt like all oxygen evaporated from his lung.

He shot another light bulb, this time the one near the door. Another gunshot with splitting sound resounding throughout the room, pieces of shattered glass flakes falling to the floor.

He heard your muffled scream and poignant whimper, on Jungkook's chest. It took all of his self restraint to prevent him to put a bullet on Jungkook's head.

If he was to shoot all of the light bulbs, some of it would reach the bed eventually, and he certainly didn't want it to hurt you in the end. But the painful feeling was still there, he felt so weak inwardly.

Different scenarios were playing in his mind.

How far did both of you go?

Did Jungkook kiss you?

Touching you on different curves on your body?

Did...did he fuck you already?

The irony was, even if both of you did it, he didn't have any intention to let you go.

He couldn't.

Just the thought of not having you in his arm anymore already grew the terrible ache inside his heart, it was difficult for him to even breathe normally.

He aimed to the small chandelier in the center of the ceiling, ready to release another bullet.

But the next shot wasn't from his gun. A bullet swung from his side and hit the gun on his hand, the weapon bounced off the air before landed on the floor at the far spot from where he was standing. Jimin sprinted passed him, and took the gun, before walked back to Hoseok, who stood near the door with gun on his hand.

"Jungkook, get out from here . Let Yoongi hyung tend to his problem. Don't get yourself involved."

Hoseok lowered the gun to his side, and looked at him with a composed look.

"It wasn't his fault. Ask her for what happened."

"Playing the hero again, Hobi?" He looked cynically on his cousin.

"I'm not. You have my words already. And I'm still paying for what I did until now. You know that."

"Jungkook, leave her. We're going now." This time Jimin spoke to the maknae, fury was visible in his eyes. He had a condemning look upon you.

Jungkook patted your back and nodded his head, seemingly tried to give you some strength. You shook your head, tears strickened eyes pleading for him to stay. But both of you knew, no good would come had he stayed behind, so it was inevitable that in the end, you had to be left alone with Yoongi.

He got down the bed and walked to the door. Jungkook halted his steps in front of him, and spoke with calm tone.

"We didn't do anything. It's up to you whether you want to believe me or not, but that's the truth."

Then he walked out with Jimin and Hoseok followed behind, the shard of broken bulbs cracked under their house slippers.

Once the door was closed, Yoongi turned slowly to look at you.

Walking to the side of bed nearest to where you were, he sat next to you, ignoring the way you tried to scoot away from him.

"Do you like him?"

For the first time since he came to your room, your eyes finally met his. It hurt him to think your feeling to him was exactly the opposite of what he felt about you.

You frantically shook your head. "N..no."

So many questions inside his head, and he couldn't think straight right now.

He needed you so bad, his head ached. It would worsen if he didn't get his release now.

After shrugging off his coat and put it aside, he pulled your arm, you hadn't stop trembling. He tugged your body to lay it down on the bed, and he lay next to you on his side, rubbing your cheeks gently with the back of his hand.

Somehow it amazed him, rather than upsetting, of how a dainty woman like you, could be the cause of his undoing.

Slowly, he wrapped his fingers on your neck, your eyes widened looking at him in confusion. His grip tightened around your throat, terror filled your eyes as you realized what he was trying to do.

The tears that had been dried up started to brim again around your eyes.

Exactly what he wanted. He wanted you to shed tears for him, just like what you did to him.

Closing your eyes, your hands were wrapped over his constricting one, he could feel your cold skin against his knuckle.

He wanted to hurt you, so you could feel how it felt like.

Although the intention only lasted for a short moment, because midway, he realized he couldn't do it.

He put his forehead on yours, eyes closing as he savored your scent around him.

As much as he wanted to, he didn't have it in him to hurt you now.

He bent over, his hands moved to embrace you and kiss you deeply, he bit softly on your lips, urging you to open it for him. He could taste the saltiness on your lips, his tears mixed with yours.

Even then, you were always like drug to him. You could cure him, but you were also the cause of his addiction.

He was about to pin your hands to the bed, but to his wonder, your arms wrapped around his neck, as you returned his kiss fervently.

His lips moved to your neck, searching for the throbbing pulse, he wanted to feel it. Somehow the pulsating blood inside your vein, calmed him down, the awareness of you being alive and breathed the same air as him.

He wasn't going to lose you like he lost his mother.

He tugged the knot of the kimono, exposing your red lace underwear clad to your naked body. Trailing to your cleavage, his kisses turned into small bites and suck that left purple marks on your skin around your breasts.

Temporary color that decorated your fair skin and whoever saw it would know someone just kissed you there.

He wanted to mark you.

The bite marks would vanish in the next few days, and he wanted a permanent one.

So Jungkook would know, you were his.

So everyone would know you belong solely to him.

He peppered kisses down to your tummy, you moaned when his tongue grazing on the smooth skin.

What would it feel like if his baby grow inside your belly? Everytime he kiss it, he might be able to hear its heartbeat. Even if you didn't love him, the baby would, just like how he loved his mother before.

But he was a man with common sense, however clouded his mind right now.

He would be a fucked up father if he failed to fight his demon beforehand.

He went down south, exploring every bit of the delicate curves of your torso, to the line of your panties. With a rough tug, he tore the flimsy lace, and threw it to the floor.

Parting your legs, his tongue found its way to your folds, he needed to taste you. Your essence coated his tongue, honey-like to his taste bud, he couldn't get enough.

You moaned along with arching your hip, the feeling of him between your legs numbing your mind. The stunt that he pulled just a while ago, had been temporarily forgotten.

"Did he taste you like this, Yuri?" His tongue lapped on your clit, and you screamed of the intense pleasure.

"Answer me Yuri. Did he?" He sucked on the sensitive nub, another scream from you made his member twitched painfully.

"No ... nothing ... we did ... nothing." You grasped on the bed sheet, the need for release was too high.

As if sensing your urgent need, he unfastened his pants, loosening it down, and took out his member, rubbing it several times. He teased the tip onto your opening, but he didn't push it yet, he knew how it drove you crazy.

"Who is in your mind right now, Yuri? Him? Or me?" He pushed the tip of his length on your entrance, but pulled it out again, just barely entered your folds.

You almost scream in frustration.

"It's ... it's you. It has always been ... you."

You gasped on the torture of the painful need to have your climax, praying he would finally give in.

Suddenly he thrusted into you roughly, your eyes widened of the unexpected move.

He stilled for a moment, before started to work on his hips, rhythmically pulling and pushing into you.

"You ... you are mine. You won't leave ... me. Ever."

He said it with ragged breath between every move.

He pulled out completely, and you whined over the sudden emptiness.

"Yoongi, please.."

He caught your lips again, and bit your bottom lip softly, before pushed his length into you again. This time he picked up the pace, his hips moved faster, your body jerked with every thrust.

With his right hand, he rubbed on your clit, and with a soft stroke on it, you finally came undone, unconsciously arching your hip trying to prolong the intense climax.

He followed not long after, emptied his release inside you with several rough grinds, your walls clenched around him brought him the sense of fulfillment.

After a week of torture, of not being able to hold and fuck you, he finally found his relief.

All the pressure that had been built since he left for Macau, started to dissolve.

His body felt relaxed and his mind was getting clear. How the simplicity of being with you could work magic on him.

He pulled out from you, and turned you over, hugging you with your back on his chest. Kissing your crown, he reached to his coat and fished out the velvet box.

Taking your left hand, he slid the emerald ring onto your ring digit. It fit your slender finger perfectly, the green shades matched your fair skin, it looked like it was glowing.

So beautiful.

He lifted up your hand, and kissed your knuckle. "Don't take it off."

You stared at the ring in silence, then spoke to him with small voice, sounded doubtful.

"It's ... it's very pretty. But ... don't you think it's too fancy for daily wear?"

"Just ... wear it. I want it to remind you of me everytime you look at it."

You nodded and didn't say anything anymore.

The silence afterwards felt so comfortable for him, he probably could fall asleep if he didn't try hard to prevent it.

The last time he let his guard down around a woman in the bedroom, it almost cost him his life. The memory still haunted him until now.

"Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"I'm ... I'm sorry."

He wanted to ask you a lot of things, but this certainly wasn't the right time. He didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow, ok?"

You nodded, the remnant sob left you gasped involuntarily.

He kissed your head again.

At least you regret it, he felt at ease just a bit.

What he saw of you and Jungkook before, it was hard for him to forget. But for some reasons, he believed the maknae.

There must be an explanation later.

But still, for him, no mistake should go unpunished.

youtube

Chapter 32

#yandere yoongi #yandere bts #bts fanfic #yandere suga #agust d #bts mafia au #min yoongi

121 notes · View notes

jamespotterthefirst · 3 years

Text

Auld Lang Syne (Ethan x f!MC)

aka the fake NYE date

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 3.5K (sorry) Warning: some language

Premise: Ethan pretends to be her date (yet again) for her family’s NYE party. Part II of As Long as You Love Me So

Author’s Note: *gestures grandly* Look at all those chickens fanfic tropes. Thank you to @aestheticartsx for pre-reading this mess!

4:00 pm

Impossibly, he was there with her, in an over-embellished cabin in Vermont, staring at the bed as though it would sprout claws and teeth any minute now. For lack of anything else to say or do, Ethan cleared his throat rather loudly.

“There's only one…”

“Yep,” she returned quickly, voice sounding strangled with barely controlled worry.

They had been in that exact situation before, not too long ago in Miami. Except when that happened, they had never kissed before. At that point, Ethan had no idea how her lush, warm lips would feel against his or how every swell and dip of her body would fit so perfectly under his touch.

Ethan was convinced she was remembering that experience as vividly as he was. They had made it out of there with their dignity and professionalism in shreds. Now, they had somehow managed to stumble into an even worse scenario.

Lilac finally tore her eyes away from the mattress and threw him a furtive but defeated look.

“It makes sense, I guess. My cousins are not as old fashioned as our parents. They think we sleep together all the time.”

Ethan almost coughed, but thanks to acting skills he did not know he possessed, he managed to keep his face neutral. Desperately, he steered his mind away from thoughts of Lilac in bed with him and all the magnificent things they'd do.

“I'll take the couch,” he managed, throwing his bag atop the plump cushions. The loud thud of its landing served as irrefutable finality to his statement.

Now that he was here, he would get through the evening at her side, careful to keep his meticulously constructed guard up. After the festivities, that couch would be his only respite from the magnetic pull that always made itself known when he was near her. And in the morning, they would drive back to Boston, where he could focus his attention back on Naveen and the slight improvement of his case.

Just one night.

He just had to get through tonight and then he could go back to putting as much distance between them as possible.

5:00

“You're kidding,” Lilac said, eyes trained on the sparkling silver fabric her cousin dangled before her. The bleak sunlight pouring from the window hit the dress and sent iridescent beams of color all about.

Natalia all but shrieked with excitement, clutching the dress close to her.

“You can't tell me he won't love it!”

Lilac said nothing, examining the outfit and trying her best to figure out how so little fabric would amount to a whole dress. It looked to her more like a long, backless shirt than anything else. And typically, the garment would be just her style, particularly when trying upstage her horrible cousin Griselda at her own party.

Today, however, she couldn't help but second guess everything. Her stomach bottomed out just at the thought of Ethan's eyes on her in that dress.

As though reading her mind, Natalia grinned at her.

“He loved that pink dress you were wearing at dinner the other night,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Lilac remained silent, fighting back the persistent need to ask for more detail. Natalia, however, did not need an invitation to offer it in a giddy rush.

“He couldn't keep his eyes off you, Lilita,” she gushed. “The way he looked at you when you weren't looking…” She trailed off, as though words were not enough to properly describe the heated, stolen glances of that night. “God, you can just tell he lo—”

At this, her cousin halted abruptly, throwing Lilac a sheepish look. There was no way for her cousin to know if they had said the words to one another yet in this made-up relationship.

A sharp, painful wave of longing settled in Lilac's stomach at the thought. What would it be like to hear Ethan Ramsey utter those words, striking blue eyes looking down at her as though she was the only person in the world?

“Anyway,” Natalia tried again. “You can tell Dr. Ramsey was feeling that dress the other night. I bet I can guess what you did when you got home.”

Lilac sincerely doubted that unless Natalia knew she had been so mortified that night when she got to her apartment that she downed half a bottle of wine and stuffed her face with Sienna's brownies.

“Fine,” Lilac agreed at last, taking the garment from her cousin. “I'll wear the dress.”

Natalia squealed her excitement and Lilac couldn't help but smile at her cousin's contagious joy.

“I can't wait to see the stupid look on Griselda's face. She's been in an awful mood getting everything ready for tonight. When she sees you in this, arm in arm with your hot doctor, she'll have a conniption.”

6:00

The familiar burn from the liquid was a welcomed relief from the many thoughts plaguing him. They alternated between thoughts of Lilac and his concern for Naveen, despite the many texts from the latter assuring him he was fine. Now that he was alone, he was beginning to understand just how much of a mistake this had been.

Ethan took another drink. Despite how much he disliked Lilac's pretentious cousin, he had to admit she kept the cabin's home bar stocked with exceptional scotch.

“Glenmorangie,” a voice said from behind him.

Ethan did not have to turn around to know it was Griselda, standing a few feet away as though summoned.

“Eighteen year,” she continued, eyeing the glass in his hand. She paused, as though awaiting praise for her excellent taste.

Ethan determinately offered none.

Lilac's cousin sighed, moving closer to the bar. The clamor of her heels against the floor echoed around the cavernous space of the otherwise desolate living room.

“I'm impressed, you know,” she said in a deliberately causal tone. She took the bottle of Glenmorangie and poured two fingers in a glass. “I didn't think you'd actually show.”

Unfazed, Ethan kept his eyes ahead and took another swig. “I can't imagine why.”

Griselda let out a low, humorless laugh. “See, I didn't think a world renowned doctor would be interested in acting for a whole weekend, all for the sake of a lowly intern.”

The words were delivered with unmistakable triumph, each of them striking Ethan like the ominous tolling of iron bells.

With experienced impassiveness, he turned to face her. Griselda wore a victorious smirk, dark eyes glittering as she took in the expanse of his chest with unveiled interest. Her smile turned coy, concealed briefly by the crystal of her glass as she took a drink.

When he glanced away wordlessly, she pressed on.

“You can drop the act, Doctor Ramsey. I'm not an imbecile.” Her voice was a deadly whisper. “My pathetic little cousin would do anything to impress me. Even fake a relationship with her medical hero to fulfill her pitiful little fantasies.”

His fingers clutched his glass with such force that the decorative ridges dug into his skin almost painfully.

“How she roped you into her juvenile scheme is beyond me.” She had gravitated a lot closer to Ethan. “Lucky for you, however, you are free to act as you please now that I know.”

He could see a blood-red nail moving closer to his hand on the counter. Ethan raised his scotch to his lips, his grip so tight on the glass now that his knuckles shone white.

“I'd never fake a relationship in front of you,” he muttered at last, carefully choosing his words.

This had the intended effect because Griselda perked up, intrigued.

“And why is that?”

Ethan set his glass on the counter, facing her full on. Summoning his most charming smile, the same one that had a visible effect on many recipients, he leaned in close.

Griselda's breath hitched expectantly.

And then, very carefully, so carefully that there would be no room for her to miss the words, he whispered—

“Because you're not that special.”

7:00

With one last glance at her reflection and a sharp, shuddering exhale, Lilac trekked to the dining room where most of that night's guests were already congregated. Many pairs of eyes landed on her as she entered, the din of conversation ebbing slowly.

Griselda, who was chatting with her work acquaintances, stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell on Lilac, the faux pleasant smile falling from her expression at once. There was something different about the furious glare her cousin bore into her like a knife. It was unabashedly disdainful, even hateful.

Lilac would have enjoyed it any other night but instead, she was far too busy scanning the crowd for—

“Dr. Ramsey, there you are,” exclaimed Natalia, eyes falling over Lilac's shoulder.

Before she could swivel around, a pair of strong, warm arms enveloped her from behind. His hands rested at her hips and his intoxicating scent cast such a heady spell on Lilac that she was lucky his strong chest offered her support. She had no hope of getting any words out, least of all when he leaned down and whispered in her ear—

“New dress?”

8:00

Ethan realized far too soon that the distracting silver dress was the least of his worries. Unsettled as he was, however, he would occasionally find his attention hopelessly caught on the tantalizing fabric and the way it adorned her figure perfectly. He wasn't blind after all.

Lilac laughed at something Sebastian said. She was far more relaxed after a few drinks, laughing with ease in a way that made Ethan's pulse quicken.

“I bet Doctor Ramsey would love to see those,” Sebastian said with a laugh of his own.

“See what?”

“Some videos of young Lilita singing Selena songs at karaoke, complete with signature dance moves.” Sebastian accentuated the last two words with easy movements of his hips, gracefully spinning in a full circle. “Remember La Lavadora?”

Natalia laughed. “We used to tie up our shirts and pretend we were wearing her famous bustier.”

Just then, Ethan caught Griselda's eye from across the living room. Her dark eyes fell to the space that separated Ethan and Lilac where they stood, a satisfied smile starting to dawn on her face.

With a sudden rush of determination, he cupped the small of her bare back and pulled her close, his blood fizzing at her proximity. Lilac jolted slightly, turning a surprised glance at him.

“Is this okay?” he whispered in her ear.

Lilac glanced at him through heavy lids, her eyes falling to his lips for the briefest of seconds. It was enough to make his pulse a roar in his ears.

“Yes.”

As if on its own accord, his thumb traced lazy circles at her back. Blushing, Lilac parted her lips and looked at him so intently, Ethan was convinced she was two seconds away from dragging him into their shared bedroom.

He would gladly let her.

“Get a room,” Sebastian teased, prompting Ethan to remember her cousins were still there.

From across the room, Griselda scowled, downing her drink in one gulp.

“Luckily they have one,” Natalia added with a laugh and a wink for Lilac.

9:00

Griselda's undisguised hostility grew more tangible by the hour. Their dislike was no secret to anyone in the family, but even Natalia and Sebastian couldn't deny something was different today. So different in fact, that even her unsuspecting guests, who had no background on her family, started to notice.

“What's up her ass?” Natalia joked over the music.

Lilac shrugged and took another sip of her champagne, despite Ethan's constant reminders that the drink was pitiful.

“You're getting drunk off of garbage, Rookie,” he commented from where he stood at her side.

His hand rested on the curve of her waist, burning through the fabric. Lilac was convinced she was getting drunk off of him, his touch, and the way his eyes pierced through her with each glance.

Natalia perked up at the nickname. “Rookie?”

“His nickname for me,” Lilac explained.

Natalia, looking a bit tipsy herself, cooed, “Aww! That's so cute!”

Luckily, she didn't ask for further explanation. Instead, Natalia moved to chat with a family friend, one Lilac was increasingly convinced she harbored a crush for.

“Something's different,” she commented to Ethan quietly. “Ever since dinner, you've been… just… different.”

Instead of responding, Ethan's eyes scanned the crowd.

“What's going on?”

His eyes softened when they met hers. Gently, he leaned in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He didn't move his hand away, the pad of his thumb tracing lazy lines along her cheekbone.

Lilac held her breath, too afraid that any movement might scare him away. Their faces were so close together, his eyes taking in every inch of her face, as though memorizing it. Until at last, they rested on her lips.

“Ethan—”

And then the blinding flash of a camera forced them to spring apart.

“Shit. Sorry. That was supposed to be without flash!” Natalia said. “It's a cute picture, though.”

10:00

Pretty green eyes made his blood warmer than any fine scotch ever could. He leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh and that made him drunker still, the sound making him feel weightless.

Ethan's hand alternated from her waist, back, arms. His skin all but burned anywhere he touched her, white hot and electric.

At some point throughout the night he had stopped checking if her cousin was watching. He no longer cared if she was buying the act.

Not that he had been acting for a second anyway. Every touch, every whisper, every smile had been genuine.

More genuine still was the urge to kiss her.

11:30

“Estúpida!” Natalia shrieked at Griselda, drawing the attention of most of the guests. She had jumped back to avoid the splash of red wine headed her way but she had not been fast enough. Her lovely champagne colored dress was ruined with an ugly splotch.

“Sorry,” Griselda said, not sounding sorry at all. “If it makes you feel any better, it was an accident.”

Lilac doubted that very much.

On second thought, spilling wine over Natalia had been an accident because the intended target had been Lilac.

From beside her, Ethan sighed loudly, pulling her close. “Are you alright?”

Before Lilac could offer any form of reply, Griselda let out an exaggerated coo at the sight of them. Keith, her boyfriend, lurked behind her, looking embarrassed and like he wanted to intervene but wasn't entirely sure how.

“Gris, you're drunk,” he said, gently taking her elbow.

Griselda purposely ignored him, eyes zeroed in on Lilac and Ethan. In the chaos of Natalia cursing up a storm and Sebastian looking around their immediate proximity for something to help her soak up the mess, Lilac could not properly study the unmasked disdain on her cousin's expression. All she saw were fierce dark eyes sinking into here's, glassed over from a full evening of drinking, and an unrelenting snarl.

“Que hermosa pareja,” Griselda commented quite loudly. No one, not even those who didn't speak the language, could doubt the sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

Lilac thought her cousin must be very intoxicated to allow her native language out so freely.

“You two are almost…” Griselda trailed off deliberately. “...too good to be true.”

A horrible sense of dread sunk in her stomach like a stone.

She knew.

Her cousin's words, drunk and slurred as they were, insinuated that she knew about their fib.

Panicked, Lilac glanced up at Ethan and was surprised to see him unfazed, as though the information was nothing new for him.

“So happy for you, primita,” Griselda went on, swaying slightly on her feet. “If you do end up marrying this one, I must help you plan the wedding.”

A nasty surge of panic speared through Lilac, her pulse drumming chaotically at her ears. She could see Ethan's confused frown from the corner of her eye.

“I got my hopes up with the last one,” Griselda continued, words accompanied by a dangerous smirk.

“Griselda, shut up,” Sebastian snapped furiously.

“Until he cheated on you. What a shame that was.”

The room went dead silent.

Lilac's throat constricted painfully and to her horror, her eyes stung with the threat of tears. Her breathing, which quickened dangerously, came out in chocked little gasps and it took every ounce of her strength to stifle them.

“And then when you took him back and he cheated again, I just didn't—”

SLAP

Lilac's palm had connected with her cousin's airbrushed face with a resounding crack. She didn't pause to see Griselda's shock dwindle into hatred, or to hear any of the words Ethan was saying. Furiously smearing away the tears that had finally spilled, she turned on her heel and ran.

11:50

It was ten minutes before midnight when Ethan finally found her, a lone figure in the middle of the backyard's gazebo. She didn't move as he approached, eyes fixed on the dark outline of the forest beyond.

It was a particularly clear night for winter in Vermont, the remnants of the last snowfall nothing but grey sludge on the ground. Still, the biting chill of the night whipped against their skin and the only thing protecting her was a flimsy fleece throw blanket.

Without a word, he removed his suit's jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Lilac merely looked at the fabric and let out a small humorless laugh.

“Back to where we started,” she muttered.

It dawned on him that he had done the very same thing the night this whole fantasy started.

After a short, peaceful pause, Ethan opened his mouth to offer some kind of comfort. Before the words could leave him, however, she stood up from her seat on the bench with a renewed sense of purpose.

“Let's get the hell out of here.”

Ethan nodded once. “We can go back to the room—”

But Lilac was shaking her head. “Back to Boston.”

A beat.

“Rookie, that's crazy.”

“No, what's crazy is this whole stupid scheme. Pretending to date? Who does that?” Her voice flared briefly with her temper, only realizing this belatedly. She looked away from Ethan.

Ethan remained silent, giving her as much time as she needed. After a minute, she exhaled sharply and met his eye again. “I'm really sorry I dragged you into this.”

Ethan wasn't sorry at all. He dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand.

More silence.

Lilac leaned against a wooden beam and let out another ironic laugh. “The funny thing is it didn't even work.”

“It worked.”

At his side, his hands flexed instinctively, yearning to touch her just like he had all night. There was no question in his mind that everyone, including Griselda, was convinced of his feelings for Lilac.

Lilac, meanwhile, sent him a questioning look and his pulse accelerated at the mere thought of telling her just that.

“That's why she lashed out,” he said instead.

She nodded once, deep in thought.

The way her shoulders pinched with tension and the slight quiver of her lips left no doubt that she was recalling Griselda's lashing words. And though Ethan was insurmountably curious, he refrained from asking.

“Earlier,” he started quietly. “She confronted me about this being an act.”

Her head snapped to look at him. After a few seconds, understanding dawned on her beautiful, moonlit face.

“That's why you…” she trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. “That's why you put on a hell of a show.”

They could hear the swelling of voices from inside the cabin. Someone inside announced there were only their seconds left until midnight.

Neither of them looked away from one another. Ethan's eyes descended to her petal pink lips and then back to her eyes.

“It wasn't for show.”

Her breath hitched.

“Lilac, you already know that I—”

In the distance, the party-goers began their countdown.

“Ten!”

His hand found the dip of her waist, as though magnetized.

“Nine!”

Eyes never leaving hers, he pulled her closer to him.

“Eight!”

“Ethan,” she whispered. A plea and the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

“Seven!”

Their bodies were pressed so close together, he wondered if she could feel the way his thunderous heart beat for her.

“Six!”

Lilac's perfume caressed his senses as her delicate hands clung to his shoulders.

“Five!”

“Lilac,” he murmured, sounding agonized to his own ears.

“Four!”

Her hand moved to cradle his jaw and Ethan briefly closed his eyes.

“Three!”

Delicate fingers danced along the planes of his face with a featherlight touch.

“Two!”

Ethan basked in her touch, convinced there was nothing better.

Nothing except—

“One!”

And he kissed her at last.

Translations:

La Lavadora : “The Washer Machine”/ a dance move

“Estúpida!” : Stupid bitch

“Que hermosa pareja,” : What a beautiful couple

Primita: little cousin

Author’s Note: Ah! So there will definitely be a part 3. However, I still haven’t decided if I will work on that first or on the next Picta chapter. It depends what this volatile inspiration of mine decides!

Thank you so much for reading this!

And thank you so much to everyone who put up with me, my blog, and my writing this year. Your support means everything. Seriously, writing is one of my greatest joys. Before truly immersing myself in this fandom, I thought I’d never write again because of work and other responsibilities.

Thank you everyone for giving me this gift back.

Happy New Year, my loves! I wish everyone success, happiness, and excellent health. Now, let’s all quietly walk into 2021 and not touch anything.

Tags: @openheart12 , @takeharryandgo , @trappedinfanfiction, @aestheticartsx, @aworldoffandoms, @paulfwesley, @myusualnerdyself, @rookie-ramsey, @ohchoices, @enmchoices, @i-bloody-love-drake-walker, @choicesfanaf, @openheartthot, @octobereighth, @nazarihoe, @utterlyinevitable, @kites-in-our-skies, @maurine07, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @doilooklikeiknow, @snesdudes, @kingliam2019, @perriewinklenerdie, @cinnamonspongecake, , @queencarb, @ethxnrxmsey, @missmiimiie, @jens-diamondchoices, @adamsdumortain, @apphia12, @kalogh, @lucy-268, @binny1985, @queenbirbs, @honeyandsunfl0wers, @newcolonies, @lilyvalentine, @rigatonireid, @interobanginyourmom, @parkerattano, @custaroonie, @nikki-2406, @lilypills, @chasingrobbie, @nooruleman, @lonely-mxxnlight, @ruinedbypixels, @shadynaturehilariouscookie, @tsrookie, @mvalentine, @professorkingslay, @drakewalkerfantasy, @casey-v, @helloblueeyedcat, @mysticaurathings, @blossomanarchy, @thegreentwin, @togetherwearerapture, @rookieoh, @rookiemarsswiftie, @natashajaniphilchoices, @mysticalgalaxysstuff, @hatescapsicum, @choices-lurker, @kiara-36, @junehiratas, @danijimenezv, @macy-ray85, @adrex04, @canigetanawwjunk, @sanchita012, @overwhelminglyaquarius , @scorpiochick8, @skylarklyon, @starrystarrytrouble, @mercury84choices, @drariellevalentine, @ethanrcmsey, @aarisa-frost, @udishaman, @a-crepusculo, @quacksonlover, @caroldxnvxrs, @ramseyandrys, @whatchique, @varikasnuori, @dimitriwife, @genevievemd, @shanzay44, @fabi-en-ciel, @trebondialanna, @lady-calypso, @ashiiknees, @dr-ramseys-rookie, @stygianflood, @bellcat2010, @iemcpbchoices, @bellcat2010, @iemcpbchoices, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @alookseeblog, @whimsicallywayward15

@emotionalswift2, @lion-ess24, @lovingramsey

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #playchoices #my writing #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey fanfiction #open heart fanfiction

258 notes · View notes

lloydskywalkers · 3 years

Note

Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

#answered #ninjago #tlnm #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #slight blood tw #i just. have a lot of feelings about friends #and a lot of thoughts about how the movie!ninja put each other on pedestals #not in an inherently bad way but #i think they all think so much of each other #they forget they're human #and that leads to fallout #anyways! movie bros T-T #my fic #masterofswag213

263 notes · View notes

jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Note

🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼

This has been in my inbox for quite a while so I really hope you're still in the fandom XD As thank you for your kind message here is something really rather silly.

It had all started out with the stupid raccoon that rifled through Jaskier's bins. The mess it left behind was unbelievable, like a small, localised tornado had been by, specifically over Jaskier's bins. No matter what he did, how he weighed down the lids, there was a mess every morning. At first Jaskier tried to be more conscious of what he threw away, less food in the bins, even ate more healthily because the raccoon seemed more interested in sweet things most nights. Except for the time it seemed to go absolutely feral with the tiny styrofoam shapes from a delivery Jaskier had. When nothing else worked, Jaskier got locks on his bins. However, his raccoon must have been working out because the locks were forced off his bins and the jumper he'd put in the bin because of a hole in the elbow had disappeared. That was when Jaskier decided to invest in a wildlife camera, this was a raccoon he needed to see.

Setting it up, Jaskier did feel a little foolish. It wasn’t like the raccoon came by every night and this time he really wanted to see it. The plan was to catch it with the net he’d invested in and relocate the little bastard somewhere that wasn’t his bins. To make sure he got the raccoon on camera, Jaskier set out a couple of honey drenched pastries to lure it in.

Sleep was difficult, Jaskier wanted to watch the camera but he was an adult and knew he needed to sleep. With great difficulty, he managed to get some rest and even succeeded in going in to teach rather than call in sick so he could watch his tape. Instead, he invited Valdo over to watch with him, knowing that his claims of a muscly raccoon would never be believed.

“Right, drinks, wine?” He asked, already grabbing a bottle and two glasses.

“I’ll order the pizza I guess,” Valdo replied, resignedly pulling his phone out. “Your usual?”

“Darling, I’m providing booze and entertainment in my home, you know the least you can do is buy me pizza.”

It was a tradition of sorts, Jaskier hated Valdo’s place, finding it too drab and grey. It didn’t matter that Valdo had magazine to prove that it was the latest fashion. And the bastard had the gall to say Jaskier was the one who pandered to the masses.

Now, they had wine in hand, the TV on and playing. Jaskier had to admit, it was pretty boring.

“Oh look, a moth,” Valdo drawled, sipping at his wine. “Maybe it flaps its wings so hard it messes with your bins.”

“Shut up.” The wine was disappearing at a steady rate and both their cheeks were getting rosy. Perhaps alcohol before food had been a rather unwise idea. “Here, I’ll speed it up until something comes along.” And something had to, the pastries were gone by the morning. They watched as moths, the odd cat and rat scuttled by.

“There!” Valdo yelled and pointed at the screen. As quickly as he could, Jaskier slowed it back down. They leaned forwards as one, seeing something large and dark move in the corner of the screen. Suddenly the darkness became a blur and both of them screamed, clutching at each other. A man stepped up to the pastries, hunching over the plate and stuffing them in his mouth at an impressive rate.

Just as they were over the shock, the man looked up. His eyes, like a cat, reflected the light as he looked at the camera, head tilted. Once again, Jaskier and Valdo screamed, leaping towards each other for protection, wine sloshing everywhere. It seemed the man had no idea what the camera was, giving it a good, long look before turning to have a rummage in the bins.

“That’s a really big fucking raccoon,” Valdo whimpered and Jaskier smacked him on the arm. “You’re going to need a bigger net.”

Laughing nervously, Jaskier shook his head. He didn’t know what to make of it, a large, long haired man with scary eyes had made a habit of rifling through his rubbish.

“Sleepover,” he declared. “You’re staying here. And we’re putting more food out.”

“You don’t want to encourage him! What if he’s, you know-” Valdo broke off, “-a vampire.”

“They’re not seen on films and their eyes don’t do that. Could be a shifter.”

“Sasquatch’s freaky cousin.”

“An eldritch horror!”

“A cryptid!” That actually seemed to fit. Still, cryptids needed feeding, Jaskier was not going to be mean. So far, other than his bins, nothing untoward had happened. “I’ll leave him some pizza.”

Drinking, Jaskier decided, was definitely not his best idea. He groaned as he sat up, Valdo snoring away next to him. He remembered most of their previous night and cursed; they didn’t just leave pizza, they left a note too.

Dear Mr. Cryptid, Please don’t eat us, eat the pizza instead. Love, Valskier

Rushing out, Jaskier saw that the pizza was gone, the note was crumpled on the ground and there was a bite missing from it. At least he now knew the shape of the cryptid’s bite.

“Wake up!” He poked Valdo in the side. “We need to watch this before work.”

It was the right choice. Jaskier spent the rest of the day thinking about the strange man with the even stranger eyes inspecting the pizza, giving it a sniff while the note was on top of it. And taking a large bite out of it all. While the pizza was given a second and third bite, the note had been inspected, given a lick before being cast aside. The camera also gave them a very good view of the man, bulging arm muscles, long, probably white or blonde hair. In short, Jaskier was fucked. He bought a whole cake and left it out that night.

The strange cryptid began to show up more regularly but at least he stopped making a mess of the bins. Jaskier tried leaving a few more notes but, after watching the man squint at the note before trying to take a bite out of each and every single one, he gave up.

“What’s the latest on your cryptid?” Valdo asked in the staff room. Rather than reply, Jaskier pulled his phone from his pocket and hit play on the video.

This time, it wasn’t his usual long haired cryptid man. Instead, it was two others with the same creepy eyes, scurrying past, snagging the hot dogs Jaskier had left out and shoving the bins over for good measure as they ran. His usual cryptid didn’t show up that night.

“I told you!” Valdo screeched, earning a few scathing looks. “You feed one and more come along.”

The following night, Jaskier put out more food, hoping it would be enough for everyone. He was almost scared to watch the footage the next day but was so glad he did. All three of the cryptids lingered near the camera, eyes flashing. However, Jaskier’s blood chilled when he spotted another pair of eyes in the background, watching but not approaching.

Looking back on the videos, he was appalled to find that an extra pair of glowing eyes was often in the background. Maybe it was a mate or a very shy cryptid. Either way, Jaskier wanted to see.

“Oh. It’s an injured one!” Jaskier breathed, appalled. He had upgraded his camera and had managed to turn the contrast up enough to make out a face. In a way, he almost wished he hadn’t because the sight was so terrible. The shy cryptid was scarred beyond belief, lip caught in a permanent snarl. He seemed the most distrustful of the camera, never approaching. But, once, Jaskier watched as a hand reached in front of the camera, snagged the sugar laden jelly pot and the camera was knocked askew. Just about visible after a few minutes was a broad back in a striped and spiked coat as it retreated. From then on, Jaskier made sure to leave soft foods out too.

“Didn’t you say your raccoon had a field day with styrofoam pellets?” Valdo asked. The school had taken a delivery of biology samples which arrived in boxes filled with the stuff. Together, Jaskier and Valdo poured as much of the pellets into a box as they could and they were left out alongside the offering of food.

That night, Valdo stayed over and neither of them slept. Instead, the TV showed the camera’s feed. It was about 3am, both of them were drooping when there was movement.

“Look!” Jaskier nudged Valdo who woke with a snort. On the screen, the original, long haired cryptid had a hand clasped around the wrist of the injured one and was dragging him into view. Behind them were the other two Jaskier had seen before. He gasped, “They’re a family, aren’t they?”

“They’re something alright. Maybe it’s cryptid double date night?”

Fascinated, they watched as the four of them inspected the box. It was the smallest of the lot, one of the two Jaskier had only ever seen together that stepped into the box, hands digging into the pellets. The grin on his face spoke volumes. The other once jumped in too, the two of them beginning to wrestled for who got to sit in the box. All while, the pellets were tumbling out, making the original cryptid and the scarred one hop back. They stared at the styrofoam like it had personally offended them. Without sound there was no way to hear it but Jaskier was convinced they hissed at it. Hesitantly, the scarred one picked up a couple and, without and warning, threw it in the air. They all darted away from it, glaring as it dropped. Once again, the smallest crept closer, darting in to pick up a handful and toss it into the air, sending them scattering again. However, when the styrofoam didn’t attack, he got braver, his mate stepping closer too. All too soon, they were all tossing handfuls of sytrofoam in the air and running around. It was all fun and games until the larger of the pair picked up the box and tossed it. The scarred one caught it but staggered and crashed into the bins.

Jaskier jumped as the clatter of his bins falling over rudely reminded him of just how close the cryptids were. It felt much more distant when they were just on his TV. Tense, he clutched at Valdo’s sweaty hand and they watched as the cryptids ran away from the scene. The next morning, Jaskier had so much styrofoam to clean up, he regetted ever listening to Valdo.

Now that he knew that the cryptids could play, Jaskier decided that they were probably intelligent beings, it was a simple matter of finding a way to communicated.

“I’ve written a will, told my parents I love them and cleared my internet browsing history,” he told Valdo. “If anything happens, you know which box in the bedroom to burn, right?”

“You crazy bastard, don’t go out there!”

Jaskier held aloft the tray of foods, trying to look self assured. “I have new friends to meet. Wish me luck.”

With that, he marched out, ready to settle in for a long wait, confident that Valdo would keep an eye on him via the camera. As he’d said, he had new friends to meet, he just hoped they wanted to meet him too.

#jaskier & valdo #jaskier #valdo marx #geralt of rivia #lambert #aiden #eskel #modern au #tldr: jaskier feeds some cryptids

94 notes · View notes

yespleasetommyshelby · 3 years

Text

Love in the 21st - Jay Halstead Fic - Two

"Alright, Halstead, Dawson, Lindsey, you guys breach first, the rest of us will follow behind." Voight instructed receiving nods from everyone as the first three made there way up the metal staircase of the old motel. Just as they reached the top bullets started flying as three men burst out of the room and ran for it round the back of the building, residents screamed and tried to duck to avoid being hit in the crossfire.

"Everyone move out and find them, Platt, you're with me!" Voight yelled through the coms, everyone holding their guns up as they raced to catch the shooters.

Following Voight's lead we made our way to the room that was our original target, I kept my gun up as Voight slowly pushed the door open fully and stepped inside, me right behind him. The rooms were covered in blood, noticing a trail on the floor I motioned over to Voight who nodded and began to follow. The trail led us to a bathroom where the body of a man was laid over the bath tub that was full of blood, but his head was resting on the sink, he'd been decapitated.

"Jesus Christ." I whispered to myself as the rest of the team came in after losing the suspects.

"That's Rev." Jay spoke as he took a closer look at the lone head sitting and watching.

"Get forensics down here, let's head back to base." Voight instructed walking out of the room. I started to follow until I heard what sounded like a sniffle coming from a closet in the hall.

"Hey, anyone checked in here?" I asked raising my gun as I received shakes of the heads from my team. Keeping my gun raised I slowly opened the door only to find a teenager sat in the back corner, looking scared out of his mind. "Hey, it's okay, what are you doing here?" I asked reaching out and watching as he slowly took my hand pulling himself up.

"They just barged in, I ran and hid in here, I could hear him crying man, he was begging for his life." The boy said as he stared at the ground, almost like he was reliving what just happened.

"What's your name kid?" Voight asked coming up besides me.

"D'Anthony, I'm just a runner, I swear!" He said holding his hands up in defense.

"It's gotta be a cartel, beheadings are their thing." Antonio said as he walked over to the three of us.

"Alright, lets head back to base, you're coming too kid." He instructed patting the boy on his shoulder.

------------

As we arrived back at the district Voight and Al took D'Anthony down to an interrogation room and came back up all of half an hour later with the name of a Columbian cartel hitman, Pulpo. That was an hour ago and since then we've got no closer to finding this guy's real name, let alone where he is.

"I gotta go talk to a CI, keep on digging and find me something on this piece of crap. Everything we do stays in-house, you tell me the truth so that I can lie for you." Voights loud voice carries through the bullpen as he walks away without a second look.

----

"This guy is known as Coop," Voight starts as he slaps another picture up on the board. "My CI says that this guy will know where Pulpo is, lets move out." He says, everyone rushing to the armory to get their gear.

As we approach Coop's place with our guns raised Jay signals that the door has been left open slightly, slowly and quietly making our way inside we clear the house room by room and it's empty, except for the body of man laying in a puddle of his own blood whose head sits on top of the counter lifeless, its own smaller puddle of blood slowly dripping down onto the floor.

"I guess this is Coop." Erin says taking a closer look at the lone head.

"Someone's cleaning house." I thought out loud receiving nods of agreement from my team members.

------------

"Hey Officer Platt, how's it going?" My Aunt's voice makes me jump as I walk past her desk towards the stairs leading to intelligence.

"Hey Sarge, how's it going?" I asked turning and leaning on the front of her desk.

"How's intelligence treating you?" She asked handing a patrolmen a set of keys without looking at them.

"So far so good, well, other than the cartel cutting peoples heads off." I said sarcastically just as the patrolman Kim, that I'd met earlier walked in looking rather pissed.

"Listen, I got a cousin in the morgue downtown, I need you to go and grab me something." Trudy started as she wrote an address down on a slip of paper before siding it over the desk towards Kim. "It's a small gold ring with a diamond, he wears it on his pinky finger of his left hand, get it and bring it to me." She instructed apparently not realising just how weird that sounded.

Kim turned to me looking just as confused as I felt. "I'm sorry Sarge, what?" She asked in disbelief as she looked at the address on the paper.

"The man owes me money, he's not getting out of it just because he died. Now go." She spoke shooing her away, with another odd look between me and Trudy, Kim slowly walked away looking back over her shoulder at me with a raised brow, I shrugged since I didn't have a clue what was going on right now.

"What cousin exactly?" I asked as I looked back at Trudy.

"On my mothers side, you wouldn't have met him, he borrowed four hundred bucks a couple of years ago and I want my money back." She said nonchalantly shrugging and going back to her computer.

"Right." I said slowly nodding. "I'm gunna head back upstairs, we do have a Colombian hitman to catch." I sighed turning and walking up to the hand scanner to buzz myself up to intelligence.

"Be safe!" She called just as I went through the gate.

"You know I will be!" I called back without turning around.

"I pulled Coop's phone records, there's multiple calls to the same number in the last week or so, problem is it's a burner phone and it's gone dead." Jay announced just as I got to my desk.

"Can you find out where the phone came from? There could be security footage of the guy who brought it." I said looking over at Jin, intelligence's resident tech guy, who nodded his head.

"Give me two minutes." He said before disapearring back to his tech cave, as I like to call it, Jay right behind him.

"The phone was brought in a store down on the south side, known territory for the Columbian Cartel." Jay says as he comes back up from the cave.

"Take Platt, go get me a name." Voight nodded before walking back into his office.

"Let's go mini sarge." Jay smiled as he walked past my desk. Narrowing my eyes at him I couldn't hep but laugh slightly, grabbing my coat and following him out.

----

"Ready?" Jay asks as we got out of the car and started walking to the store that sits on the corner of the street.

"You know I am." I grinned cheekily at him before pushing the door open and walking in. "Hey, we need a name of a guy that came in here just over a week ago and purchased a burner phone." I said getting straight to the point shrugging when Jay raised an eyebrow at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The guys said shrugging his shoulders and avoiding eye contact, a lone receipt apparently much more interesting than the two intelligence officers stood in his store.

"Come on man, we know it was brought from this store, so we aren't gunna leave until you give us the name of the guy who brought it." Jay told him motioning between the two of us only receiving a shrug in reply. Alright, we tried talking, let's do it my way.

"Hey Jay, a lot of stores round here get robbed quite often, right?" I asked looking over at him, leaning against the counter casually as the store keeper watched me with caution in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, almost everyday." He nodded going along with me with a slight confused frown.

"And most stores keep a weapon of some sort behind the checkout right?" I asked him again receiving a nod and a confused look in reply. "I'm assuming you've got something behind there, am I right?" I spoke turning to the shopkeeper this time.

"Um, yes I have a bat, but it's totally legal man, it's only for self defense, I've never even used it." He admitted holding his hands up with wide eyes.

"Can I see it please, Sir?" I asked holding my hand out for the bat. With a sigh and a slight nod he reached down under the checkout and pulled out a wooden baseball bat that, like he had said, didn't look like it had been used.

Nodding my head slightly I held it by the handle tightly and suddenly swung, knocking down a display of sweets that was at the front of his store. Ignoring his yells for me to stop I took another swing, knocking bottles of this and that off of the shelves, he's lucky they were plastic or he would've had quite a problem there.

"You got to stop her man, come on." The guy yelled at Jay who was watching with a slight grin on his face, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders at the man.

"Give me a name and I'll stop." I told him shrugging while slightly swinging the bat by my legs.

"I don't have a name." He yelled looking between me and Jay, who just raised an eyebrow at me.

"Alrighty then." I shrugged before I swung the bat into his shelves once more, only aiming to knock things off the shelf, not cause any real damage, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fine! Omar! Omar Rojas!" He yelled just as I raised the bat to swing again. "Just stop! Please!" He pleaded.

Nodding his head Jay patted the owner on the back. "See, wasn't so difficult was it?" He asked sarcastically as he stepped over packets and bottles that were littered over the floor to get to the door.

"You might wanna tidy up in here, its a bit of a mess." I smiled sweetly at the man before throwing his bat on the ground and walking out to be met by Jay.

"Hey, don't get me wrong that was real badass, but not exactly by the books." He laughed as we made our way to the car.

"Yeah well, what is it Voight said? Tell him the truth and he'll lie for me?" I asked with a laugh climbing into the car, him following with a laugh of his own.

Hey guys! So, I don't actually know how to creat links and what not on here (I'm on mobile) so I've tagged the series as 'love in the 21st One/Two/Three etc..

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead imagine #one chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fic #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd imagines #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #jay Halstead fic #love in the 21st #love in the 21st two

55 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

AU where the Nie clan has dragon blood in their lineage, and usually it just manifests as bad temper and a generally martial inclination. Except, once in a rare while, generations apart, an actual dragon will be born among them... (aka nobody really expected that NHS was the latest Nie dragon).

The Nie sect’s ancestors were butchers; that lowly heritage is well known and widely celebrated, much to the not-entirely-concealed disdain of some of the more refined, gentlemanly sects. Butchers at home and butchers at war – everyone knows that.

What’s rather less well known is that the third sect leader, colloquially known among his descendants as ‘that idiot’, rather heroically saved an imperial princess in battle and then – and this was why he was that idiot – married her. She was a proper princess, too, the true-born daughter of the emperor; other sects might see that as a good thing, since for all that cultivation sects saw themselves as being above petty things like the politics of the common folk, a princess was still a princess.

The Nie did not.

The reason for this was quite simple. What does a cultivation style that already incorporates an increased chance of death through anger most assuredly does not need?

The blood of the eight-clawed dragon, that’s what.

Arrogant, explosive, unruly –

It was a mess.

The sixth sect leader came up with the saber halls to honor his father and grandfather – most especially his grandfather, who’d had a bad tendency towards slit-pupiled eyes when he’d been especially enraged, and whose saber had absorbed every ounce of his ferocity – and the next few generations made a point of finding especially meek daughters or sons for their children to marry, and that was that; everyone hoped that that idiot’s mistake could be diluted out of existence.

It was, for the most part.

But every few generations, imperial blood ran true, and not only in terms of majesty or arrogance, and then the entire sect had to close its doors to the outside world and pretend with all their might that no, of course there wasn’t a rampaging beast of an especially draconic variety raging behind the extremely sturdy walls of the Unclean Realm, what nonsense that would be.

Still, if Lao Nie had to wager on one of his children being a dragon, he probably would have put money on it being his firstborn: already far too tall for his age, a brilliant prodigy with his saber, and a temper that rivaled some of the older members of the clan.

Certainly not Huaisang.

The only time that child hadn’t been a disappointment was when he was a baby: he’d been remarkably lazy even back then, sleeping more hours of the day than he didn’t even past infancy, and what had been a relief to his nursemaids quickly turned to annoyance by everyone else. It was commonly believed that such a weak and unlively child was likely to grow up to be slow-witted and dull, and, worse, the doctors confirmed his muscle tone was underdeveloped; even with a great deal of practice, he would likely always be a bit behind those his own age.

As he grew older, his penchant of sleeping twenty hours out of every day got even more noticeable, and the family largely lost interest.

Well, most of them. His older brother, who’d quietly taken on the responsibility for caring for Huaisang when no one else in the family had had the time or, truthfully, the interest in the disappointing son of an especially fortunate (unfortunate?) family maid-turned-concubine, indulged him far too much, even carrying him from place to place.

“You’re not a mule, Mingjue,” Lao Nie scolded one day, reinforcing the lesson through swipes of the flat of his saber. “Have some dignity! If Huaisang wants to go places, he can damn well walk there himself!”

Nie Mingjue bowed his head, obedient and filial in every way except for the fact that he didn’t listen; if anything, it got even worse from that point on, the boy barely being seen anywhere without a napping toddler as an accoutrement.

“Did you hear what I said?” Lao Nie roared at him.

“I’m not a mule,” Nie Mingjue recited. “If he wants to go places, he can walk there himself.”

“If you heard me and persisted regardless, you’re undisciplined,” Lao Nie said, arms crossed.

“I accept whatever punishment is appropriate,” Nie Mingjue said, and that was most irritating of all: why would his otherwise perfect eldest son insisted on being beaten once a week when all he had to do was leave that useless lump behind in his rooms, where he’d be happier anyway? It wasn’t as though Nie Huaisang even wanted to be outside: sometimes it seemed he’d only learned to talk in order to complain about how uncomfortable he was, how hot, how sweaty – and he even had the gall to keep complaining even after his older brother fetched a fan for him, like a loyal dog.

Discipline was paramount in the Nie sect; to be undisciplined is to risk being monstrous, and with their cultivation style they could not tolerate such a thing. That was why their punishments were so strict, even if the rules were relatively sparse - more principle than rule, really. But on the other hand, their family had always been the sort that would rather break than bend: if Nie Mingjue wanted to pay for his willfulness by accepting punishments, he was entitled to do so.

Still – there was punishment, and there was wanton cruelty; at some point, one of the men in the punishment hall abandoned the former for the latter. He was a popular man, the son of another sect’s diplomat that had married a close cousin of the main family and stayed in Qinghe; for some reason he’d developed an intense dislike of Nie Mingjue – a dislike which was mutual, and likely to cause trouble in the future when Nie MIngjue became Sect Leader, but which currently put Nie MIngjue in a very bad position given the man’s status as his elder.

Lao Nie only learned about the whole matter much later, and when he did he was so spitting mad he grabbed his saber and would have spitted the man on it, cousin or no cousin, if he hadn’t been held back; but at the time he had no idea, busy as he was defending the borders of his lands against troubles caused by that ever-smiling bastard Wen Ruohan.

When he did hear about it, though, he was infuriated: his son and heir had been beaten three times the usual amount, a compilation of a thousand little offenses that could only technically be termed breaches of discipline, forced to complete several dozen of their most demanding exercises, and then made to kneel outside on the hottest day of the year; to no one’s surprise, he had eventually collapsed rather than yield and beg for mercy, his skin cracking and lips starting to bleed as his consciousness left him.

He was after all a Nie.

Who knows how far that bastard might have gone, his eyes fixed on a prize he would never inherit with his outsider’s surname, if Nie Huaisang hadn’t been there, tucked away curled up underneath a shady tree and made to watch despite Nie Mingjue’s request that he be sent back to his rooms.

Those who were near enough to see – and Lao Nie had plans to punish the whole lot of them for not having interfered: what was the point of a clan motto that prioritized justice and suppression of evil no matter what the consequences if they would allow it to happen in their own damn home? – said that it didn’t happen at once, that there was a pause when Nie Mingjue’s body hit the ground; perhaps it was only that Nie Huaisang was slow to realized what was happening.

Perhaps it just took a while for the change to happen.

Either way, everyone agreed on what happened next: the unfurling of a serpentine body twice the length of a fully grown man, although only about as wide around as a goat, a red-eyed glare that was backed with teeth and claw, and a roar of challenge at anyone who even thought about pulling Nie Mingjue’s body away from the center of those coils.

Apparently Nie Huaisang had needed all that sleep because he was still growing. Who would have known?

It was the youngest full transformation they’d ever had in their clan by far. The boy hadn’t even reached the age of three!

“If he’s stopped sweating, he has heatstroke,” Lao Nie told his apparently not useless younger son, having been urgently summoned to the training field. “He needs to be taken inside at once; you’re only making things worse.”

Nie Huaisang bared his teeth at him, and Lao Nie bared his teeth right back.

He might not be a dragon, but his son’s blood had come from somewhere.

“I am your father,” he snarled. “You will listen to me and obey. You hear me? You will get off of him this instant. If he doesn’t get water soon, he will die.”

Lao Nie will never know if it was the demand for filial piety or the threat to Nie Mingjue’s life that got Nie Huaisang to comply – he suspected the latter – but Nie Huaisang gave in and backed off, allowing the clan’s medics to rush over and take Nie Mingjue away.

Lao Nie looked at the dragon, thinking to himself that the vastness of the underground caverns beneath the Unclean Realm weren’t for nothing: if this was what a two-year-old dragon looked like, he’d be a full-fledged calamity when full grown.

His saber itched in his palm at the thought, but he ignored it. The embarrassing yao-derived portion of their bloodline aside, the Nie sect set itself against evil, and Nie Huaisang was lazy, not evil.

“This is going to be trouble,” he finally said. “It can’t be allowed to get out.”

You can’t go out, he meant, but maybe Nie Huaisang in all his laziness wouldn’t mind being restricted to the Unclean Realm. Maybe, if they were lucky, they could teach him to like paintings and books instead, since he could never be allowed out to join a proper battlefield.

He’d be locked at home forever, unless the Sect Leader decided otherwise - and that meant Lao Nie would be the one responsible for it.

Ancestor or not, damn that idiot.

In the end, Nie Huaisang didn’t respond to him at all, merely took to the air – flying must be inherent, since he didn’t seem especially bothered by what should be something brand new – and headed inwards, aiming towards…

His brother’s bedroom.

Not really a surprise, that.

A bit of a surprise that he could find it so quickly, though, from such an unfamiliar angle…

Lao Nie’s eye twitched.

If his stubborn older son had known about this, he was going to wish he’d died of heatstroke.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #dragons #oneiriad #not my usual backstory for the Nie sect #but hey #gotta have those dragons #dragon nhs

917 notes · View notes

damselofblueroses · 3 years

Text

The Name of the Rose

Summary: Your study-buddy Doh Kyungsoo comes with you for a long-awaited trip to Tokyo, Japan. There is a tension between you, however both of you decided to build a friendship instead of a relationship.

Content: Unestablished relationship, AU, Hurt/Comfort, Anger, Slight Violence, Emotional Complications and Healing.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story was inspired by D.O.’s album, Empathy, the album of 2021 in my opinion. It is an ongoing mini project, I planned to write it as a one-shot when I started, however I realized there are a lot to say about Empathy Era and I cannot stop shut my mouth, or prevent myself from writing… So, here we go.

Second chapter, the Hunter and the Goddess is out :)

Word Count: 3.6k

Chapter 1: The Hunter and the Gazelle

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.

You were excited.

No, it was not the correct word to be used. You were hyperactive, more than your usual self, and God knows that everyone could testify on how hectic your personality was. According to your family and very close friends, you were a walking catastrophe, funny but a fucking tease and potentially dangerous for environment.

And now, as you had been waiting for your flight, you could not manage to even stay still. Your hands were everywhere, you proved yourself again by dismantling your tote bag as poor thing was on your lap and you were playing with it unconsciously.

“Enough.” you heard your companion’s baritone voice tone. “If you will continue like this, you have to buy your belongings again in Japan. Do you have that much money?”

He reached to you and took the bag from your lap. For a second, his fingers brushed your thighs, and you lost your concentration during that fucking second.

Focus! you told yourself.

“I can always lend some money from you.” you cocked one of your eyebrows. “What? Will you bare me from some bucks?”

“Yes.” he was always plain and simple. On the contrary of you. “Unless if it is not a necessary. I am not a guy of sharing.”

What type of guy you are, can you give me a demonstration?

Your trip to Japan made you very excited, but you had to confess at least to yourself in the depts of your mind. What made you frenzied was the presence of your companion.

Doh Kyungsoo.

Your long-term study-buddy. Actually, he was more than a study-buddy, he was a kind of your comfort zone, even though you never express your opinions about him. You have known each other for almost 7 years since the last year of bachelor. Both of you continued your ways in academic world and you were currently being Ph.D. candidates.

To be honest, he never lose his impacts on you. You had a sweet spot for him since almost the beginning of your friendship which made him more than a study-buddy. It did not mean that you were restraining yourself from having dates time to time, but all of them were ended up with the same result.

They were clever and handsome guys, but they were not Doh Kyungsoo.

Sometimes you could not help but wonder, how it would be if you did not meet him as a friend? Could you two manage having a relationship as your best friend, Baekhyun, supported like a bloody zealot? Or one of you would give up as your brother, Jongdae, always believed?

“Hey!” you heard Kyungsoo’s voice and jumped off from the bench. “Come back to your senses or we are going to miss the plane.”

“And you are going to take its money from me.” your murmured inside of your mouth but obliged to what he said by starting to walk. He was generally quiet during flights, but you knew his mouth will not be shut when you will visit the restaurants he wanted to try.

He does not come for Tokyo, he comes for fucking eels, octopuses, or crabs. Kyungsoo and his appetite.

“Naturally.” he approved your words on money, but there was a ghost of smile on his lips. “Since you are the one who became a sleeping beauty.”

Do you think I am beautiful?

This was another problem you had. With Kyungsoo, you were so relaxed, and you felt extremely safe, so you did not need to control yourself as you generally did. Of course, it was a good omen for your friendship, as much as you were sure Kyungsoo never lied to you, it was also a disadvantage on your part, because sometimes you wanted to ask some questions that should be remained in silence.

“If we would be fairy tales,” you smirked. “I would be Belle while you are the Beast.”

“Fine by me.” he shrugged his shoulder. “He is a very good guy. I am happy for Belle; she understands the assignment. You would not most probably.”

“Sweetheart, you are slow to catch the signs.” you playfully smacked his shoulder when you reached to the control point. You thought he would be annoyed, but he stopped and seriously gazed at you. You shivered and wondered why he was looking at you like he wanted to say something.

“What?” you inhaled.

“Since when I am slow to catch the signs?” he pressed on every word of his sentence, and to your dismay he used that voice tone, almost a whisper but goddamn strong. “Give me an example.”

You shuttered down, and this was the last problem you had with Kyungsoo, he was the only one who could make your brain stop working especially in times when the occasion calls for full-speed devilish progress. You just stared at him and shrugged your shoulder.

“Eh Soo,” you murmured. “You missed a lot of beautiful girls, right?”

Your response was so weak even to your ears. If Chanyeol, number two best friend of you, could hear your words, he would burst into laughs by hitting everyone beside him. You could imagine Junmyeon’s disgusted face as a plus.

“I did not miss anyone, my dear.” he chuckled. “Let me rephrase, anyone I want just one exception, but exceptions do not ruin the calculation in your famous mindset.”

When he chuckles, you can feel your blood tension rocks your body. His heart shaped lips does something to you, and you do not want to name it.

“Exceptions run the world, Doh.” you tried to push him to elaborate his words a little bit more. “Who is that lucky girl who run away from you?”

“That’s my secret.” he smirked and put his hand onto your waist in order to led you the controller lady. “Show your passport, I do not want to wait here forever.”

Who was the girl he mentioned? You could not help but started to feel anxious, how much you tried to press your instincts and feelings, whenever he mentioned a girl, there would be a dire need of crying in the pit of your stomach. You took a deep breathe and followed his instruction. While you were walking into the inside of plane, you struggled with the sudden sadness. You wanted to tear that off yourself, so you reminded yourself the splendid trip ahead you. You found your place and processed to sit down.

“May I help?” Kyungsoo asked you but he already fetched your belongings and placed them correctly. You smiled to him and sat down.

How could you meet someone like him? He was a little bit grumpy sometimes, a person who could give unexpected reactions, but he was reliable, kind, lovely and always thoughtful of his environment. You did not want to lose him. You never want to lose him, on the contrary, you want to keep him in your life until the very end. You could not think a life without Kyungsoo, you always desire him to stay your side.

You were pretty sad, you had to admit, and there was regret. You were regretful on your decision to not go further with him, you wished you could be braver and tell him about your feelings for him. How much you were confused because of him, how many days and nights you spent sleepless because of him. To make the things more complicated, you had zero idea about how he would be responded your confession if you pull yourself together and manage to do. For once, you heard his cousin Minseok talked about you by saying you were very important for Kyungsoo, however you did not know in which extent you were important for him.

You two were always closed to each other, you spent almost 3 or 4 days together, you were living in the same campus, your departments were close to each other. He was a huge part of your life, that’s one of the reasons why you were hopelessly trying to conceal your inappropriate feelings for Kyungsoo. The idea of losing his extremely valuable presence was the only scenario could make you sob.

“Am I the only one who is very uncomfortable?” he whispered to your ear and made your stomach twisted. You could kill him for this, but he was not aware of how he affected you. “You are deadly silent.”

“No, I am just thinking.” you run away from him like an Olympic athlete. “About the trip. I am very excited.”

“If you are,” he flinched your forehead. “You have to talk non-stop. You are silent when something bothers you, what are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing, Soo.” you found a smile from somewhere and presented to him. “You know I never find the chance of visiting Japan; I am really overwhelmed.”

“So, speak to me.” he grunted. “Do not act like I am not here.”

“Okey, okey.” you raised your hands to air. “Sorry for that.”

“I start to feel like I am disturbing you.” he turned his head to the Name of the Rosethat he was reading. Umberto Eco, he had a taste for everything of course. “I asked you twice if you are okey with going to Japan with me.”

You could laugh if you were not so tense since he mentioned girls.

“And I told you this is okey, Soo.” you pinched his upper arm. “You are a good companion for trips.”

“Only for trips?” he asked. What the fuck was wrong with Kyungsoo today? He was behaving weird, and his questions made you more baffled. “I thought I am good companion for everything.”

You bit your lips in order to send back the sudden answer you wanted to give. Instead of declaring your ignorance about his performance on everything, you refined your words.

“You are a good friend, Soo and sorry for making you feel unwanted. I am happy you are coming with me.”

“Hm.” he hummed but he did not look like he was satisfied with your answer. You decided to not think about what the heck he wanted to hear, you also turned to your book that you were supposed to read since the departure. At least Pavese helped you to collect your mind till the plane landed in Narita Airport. He helped you while you two took a cab for the way, he was acting like his usual self, so you accused yourself because of searching hidden messages in his questions. You were such an idiot.

“I will be seeing you at dinner.” he waved his hand when you finished the registration process of the hotel you would be staying for the week. You were in front of the elevator. Both of you already decided to take a nap before dinner when you were planning the trip, so you approved his words and took your keys.

“See you.” you smiled and walked to your room. When you opened the door, your smile widened, the room is so light and minimalistic as you really liked. There was no crowded furniture, crazy designs, or unnecessary modifications. The walls were light blue, the furniture was white, and all looked very harmonious. There were plants and flowers, you immediately run to the flowers as you loved them more than anything else. The hotel staff managed to place even Sakura blossoms into the room that made your heart flattered and smoothed your nerves.

And there was only one blue rose, which was your favourite flower in the world. Just one, between a bouquet of daisies and it looked magnificent. You leaned to smell it while smiling as a little freak. You did not have to see your face; you knew how you looked like. Chanyeol always said that when you see a blue rose, you lost your shit. Another creature made you drunk in happiness was white butterflies. You had a sweet spot for blue roses and white butterflies.

And for Kyungsoo.

You grunted to yourself in your mind, and you headed to the bathroom by tapping your feet to the ground harshly. You were done with your obsession with Kyungsoo, it became something out of control, and you were tired of yourself at this point.

You had to live your goddamn life, you had to stop fucking fantasizing about your study-buddy.

You stripped out from your clothes and jumped into the shower. Cold water helped you to take the control of yourself, both as physical and emotional. You were okey, you were in bloody Japan as you always wanted, and you were going to fucking enjoy it. After shower, you threw yourself into the bed, tucked yourself inside the blanket and set the alarm for one hour later.

After one hour, you were swearing at yourself with your very glorious vocabulary because the only thing you did was fantasizing about Doh Kyungsoo.

“Did you rest?” he asked to you while you were leaving the hotel. You held your growl inside. “Did you take a nap?”

“I did not sleep but I leaned down for a while, so it was good. You?”

“I slept like a baby. It was very interesting when you think I am more like an insomniac.”

“I guess, your insomnia is rubbing on me.” you grumbled. “Where are we going now?”

“Eh, at least something about me can rub on you.” he rolled his eyes, your chin was dropped due to his response. “There is a tiny noodle restaurant in Ebisu, but they are very famous. We are going to there.”

“Okey.” you nod and walked beside of him.

“You look very pretty.” he turned to you. “That dress looked very good on you.”

You instantly took a look on your navy, long dress. It was very comfortable, but also elegant and your fashion freak cousin persuaded you the colour and style gave you a

“Thank you.” you replied. “Sehun chose this for me, you know he is the chef kiss when it comes to fashion.”

“He did well.” he smiled. “How is Sehun by the way, I did not see him since ages. Did he come back from France?”

“No.” you pouted. You really missed your noisy cousin. “He just came to visit for a week, then came back to school. I am not sure if he will come back to be honest, he got some important invitations from European universities.”

“Very good.” Kyungsoo’s face was lit up. He was proud of Sehun. “I know you miss him, but he has a bright career ahead of him.”

“Yes, I know.” you also smiled. Thinking about your successful but extremely playful cousin made you happy. “I just worry about him.”

“Stop babying him.” Kyungsoo punched your arm as half serious half joke. “How old is he, 27?”

“Yeah.” you laughed. “I know I baby him very much, but we all do, Kyungsoo.”

“You are just one year older than Sehun.” he smirked. “Who is going to baby you?”

“Chanyeol.” you exhaled. Kyungsoo looked at you for a second, then both of you burst into laughs because it was well known that you also took care of Chanyeol and Baekhyun as well as Sehun. “Jokes aside, I am a strong and big girl, Kyungsoo, I do not need someone babying me.”

“Maybe you can start looking for a sugar daddy to baby you?” he cocked his eyebrows to you. “Before it is going to be too late?”

“Actually, I had some candidates in my pocket.” you devilishly beamed to him. “You have no idea.”

“Beg your pardon?” his face suddenly transformed from joy to deadpanned seriousness, and his smile was disappeared immediately. “I was joking.”

“I was not.” you blinked your eye. “Some people really proposed to me.”

“For being your sugar daddy?”

“I know I am very little in your eyes, Kyungsoo” you took a deep breathe before continuing. “But here the breaking news: some people could find me attractive.”

“We are not talk about usual dates or men.” he held your arm and turned you to himself. “If you receive this kind of proposes, you have to tell me.”

“Next time, I will report you so we can decide who is going to be my sugar daddy.” you poked his ribs while he burrowed his eyebrows and radiated a strong sense of discontent. “Come on Kyungsoo, I am not going to say yes to this type of proposes, what do you think about me?”

“We are always joking about this issue,” he looked like he was cursing beneath his breath. “But when it comes to you and Baekhyun, I always suspect if you are serious or not.”

“Sugar daddy is a joke.” you hissed. “Of course, it is a joke, I have no interest in having a sugar daddy.”

“What about the proposes? Are they real?”

“Well, they are.” you murmured. Suddenly, you felt like the table was turned and you just played your ace card too early. You felt like Kyungsoo’s eyes investigated your soul to the bits.

“How many?”

“Three.” you gave up. “One from faculty, two from outside.”

“Unethical son of bitches.” he lowly cursed and caught you off guard because he generally preferred to use more polite words, even if he was cursing. “Keep them away from yourself.”

“Oh really?” you teased him by hoping to break the strange tension between you and managed to put a little smile on his face.

“Stop mocking me.” he warned you but now he was smiling widely. His mouth became a heart again, this time you averted your eyes from his face.

“Who I am to dare mocking you?” you squeaked but it was fake.

“Oh, you mock me more than even that walking noisy machine Baekhyun.” he flicked his hand. “We have to stop at this station, Ebisu Garden Place is on the way.”

He put his hand onto your waist again, and you felt like electrocuted again. Every time he touched you, and unfortunately, he sporadically did, you felt like you are dying for more. More what? You were not sure what you really wanted from Kyungsoo, but you were certain on you were desperate for more of him.

More of him.

The bus was crowded, Kyungsoo led you to a little corner, and stayed in front of you. He could be a little bit protective when it came to crowded places since you were clumsy, he generally insisted to keep you close to himself in order to catch you, if you would lose your balance, so you did not surprise when he held your wrist.

What made your heart to do a perfect all kill type of somersault was his next move, his fingers did not stop on your wrist, on the contrary they moved into your palm and grasped your hand tightly. You raised your eyes to him, he never hold your hand, never ever.

“I want to be sure.” he whispered by catching your question before you ask. “Since both of us do not know the way, and the bus is full of passengers, this is more secure.”

“Ah.” This was the best of you at the moment. You quickly realized what the heck you said but Kyungsoo sometimes can be quicker than you.

“Why? Are you unsatisfied with the reason?” His dark brown eyes were shining, his perfume smelled fucking good and the proximity between your faces did not help you.

“Why should I be?” you had to be back to play as soon as possible. “I grant you the chance of holding my hand, that’s count as charity.”

He looked at your hand for a moment, and you saw a smile formed on his lips and instead of a sarcastic reply as you expected, his eyes shaped like a crescent and shined as the fucking moon itself during a cloudless, navy night.

“Thank you, your highness.” he genuinely smiled. “May I continue to hold your hand?”

“Why?” the tone of your question was full of surprise, sounded exceptionally strange.

“Because I want to feel you.” he simply answered, and he squeezed your hand a little bit more. “For once let me feel you by my side.”

You knew that your eyes blown up, your mind was playing some tricky and dangerous games with you, you lost your shit, and you were sure about you finally made yourself mad because of your platonic interest in Kyungsoo, but even if God himself would appear in the bus in order to stop you, that would be a fruitless attempt.

You held Kyungsoo’s hand.

If he wanted to feel you by his side, you could not refuse.

You never refuse Kyungsoo.

How could you?

He was the protagonist of your secret dreams, fantasies and your goddam powerful imagination.

He was your gazelle and you were chasing him since the first day you met.

#doh kyungsoo #do kyungsoo #exo #exo d.o.#d.o. solo #empathy #kyungsoo #weareoneexo #exo fanfic #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo fanfic #d.o.#exo smut #exo series #d.o. exo #kyungsoo x reader #d.o. empathy

53 notes · View notes