#master list woes

[the12thnightproject]

Eeep...

Either tumblr is acting up again, or the Clavis fic is one too many for the masterlist (and I will have to reorganize everything). Or Clavis is pranking me because of the fic itself.

(Will try later and see what happens).

#master list woes #organization #disorganization

[austinbutlerslovers]

Mr. Butlers Babysitter 2

Label Mature 18+

🔗 Part 1 Link

Summary

After working professionally with Mr. Butler for two months you developed a lovely bond with his two wonderful children. You were highly satisfied with your salary and with your kind new boss.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly until one night Austin tricks you in to being alone with him and admits he has extremely obsessive feelings for you.

To make matters worse he claims you’ve avoided all his advances and now he must take drastic measures. What he does to black mail you is so earth shattering you give into his wishes immediately becoming even more compromised.

The next morning after he fulfills his lustful wish of dominating you he holds you hostage withholding personal items and revealing he has even more disturbing evidence to ruin you if you leave him.

His control over you is so manipulative as he switches between loving and cruelty that it breaks your naive mind and you actually begin to fall for him.

🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨

dubcon•sex act on camera • oral sex while inebriated •ejaculated on while inebriated • humiliation kink •manipulation into oral sex •forced oral sex• forced fingering •spankings •dirty talk•name calling •degradation •orgasm denial • slight sadism •forced penetration •size kink •P in V•cum eating•kiss it better •love bombing•mental fragmentation of a female• Stockholm syndrome • yandere

🥀 Corrupt Austin Series 🥀

✍🏼 Co-writer @burnthheparaphilia

Master List ••• Upcoming List

Mr. Butlers Babysitter 2

You awaken in the morning with a pounding headache in a blackened room. You groan the headache is so intense it feels like your head is splitting.

Your hand fumbles around in dark next to the bed until you feel the base of an advanced lamp. “Shit” you say frustrated as you slip you fingers over it trying to find the on switch. You fail several times pressing it slapping it twisting it.

Suddenly all the automatic shades begin to lift slowly flooding the room with light. You are in a huge modern bedroom…. Your face goes blank you are still at Austin’s. He is in the door way eating an apple as he watches you figure it out.

He grins as you lock eyes with him “Good morning” he says slyly. Wearing a white tee and black jeans he looks handsome and ready for the day.

You sheild your eyes from the blinding light as the shades go all the way up “Hi.” you say weakly and sit up in his bed trying to piece together what happened last night.

You remember he clearly admitted to drugging your wine with ecstasy but the sex was so euphoric after that your body and mind are still in constant conflict. What he did was wrong but when he had his way with your body it felt so right.

The physical after math however is awful. Never having ecstasy or a drink before he made sure to give you ample glasses until you lost the ability to function.

Your lips are cracked and dry, your jaw is sore, and you feel like your body has been thrown down two flights of stairs. You shakily get up and feel the dizziness adding to your woes .

When you finally become aware of your surroundings you look out at his gorgeous cliff side view of the infinite ocean, and it stuns you, his bedroom is floor to ceiling wall to wall glass. It momentarily snaps you out of your discomfort as you get up and make your way to his master bathroom. You close the door behind you and lock your self inside trying to collect your thoughts with your head pounding.

There is a full glass wall window with an ocean view inside as well. His bathroom is enormous and completely gray marble. The room is centered around a massive rectangle temper glass shower with more nozzles than you can count. He has every modern amenity possible.

You look to the counter and see there is already a tooth brush, washcloth and facial soap for you.

As you wash your face and brush your teeth you look at your reflection in the giant counter to ceiling mirror. You are sweaty and queasy from the aftermath of your first time drinking you feel like hell.

You have a flash back of Austin clinking shot glasses and drinking more dark liquor with you last night… bourbon? You try to remember but it all goes fuzzy. You try to figure out his shower but it’s so advanced you take your wash cloth to the sink.

Austin waits until you exit the bathroom you are wearing one of his favorite shirts with nothing on underneath. By the way you stare down at his shirt like it’s a foreign object he knows you don’t remember a thing from last night.

“Austin where is my phone” your voice cracks as you look around his spacious master bedroom. “It’s charging downstairs.“ he replies taking another bite of his apple. He is in no rush to have you leave. “Well can I have it?“ you ask him flatly feeling agitated from your physical discomfort.

“If you say please” he says flashing you a grin. He remembers over hearing you correct his daughter in the same manner. Your brain isn’t fully functioning yet so you stare at him with pleading eyes “Austin please.”

He grins loving the way you say his name. The words giving him a memory of last night when they were coming out of your mouth in a desperate manner.

He turns from the doorway and you instinctively follow him as he leads you through his massive estate into the kitchen.

Once there you look across all the countertops until you see your phone. It is hooked to a cable in a cubby space made for charging electronics.

“Oh my god!” you exclaim once you reach it and read the time. “My classes!” you whine unlocking your phone. You begin to panic going through your course links to find the class emails. You quickly message your most important professor apologizing you missed the group protect because you are sick.

Austin hovers next to you resting his hip to the counter still eating his apple. “Austin where are my clothes?” You ask not looking up preparing to leave as soon as you type your message. He smirks “In the laundry to clean the cum out of them.” he answers. You look straight ahead thinking why would he say that?

Austin eyes your screen and takes note of your professors email it’s so simple he easily memorizes it. “What is the last thing you remember from last night?”he asks deliberately. When you turn to him he eyes you with a naughty grin as he finishes his apple.

You close your eyes and let out a breath in concentration trying to remember as you speak aloud. “Classes, gym, movie theater ..uh with you, then trying to leave and you telling me I’m too drunk? It all gets fuzzy after that I can’t remember.” You admit opening your eyes.

He is still making direct eye contact and smiles as he speaks “Should I tell you what you did, or would you like to see my security footage?” He asks darkly.

Your eyes go wide as your stomach tightens from the way he says it “Show me the footage.” you confirm beginning to have a minor panic attack.

He turns from you walking across the kitchen pulling ingredients and a pan. “First I’m going to feed you. Scrambled eggs and avocado toast right? strawberries and blueberries on the side” he asks shooting you a knowing look as he presses the gas ignition for the range top stove.

You nod yes, feeling awkward because he’s getting all the information from your application to work for him. You slowly approach the large countertop sitting to watch him cook for you.

After a few moments he plates perfect scrambled eggs with avocado toast and sliced fruit in front of you on the counter space. You devour it feeling famished, It is one of the best meals you’ve had in a while.

Once you clear your plate he collects it and gives you a glass of water. “Thank you Austin” you say smiling up at him after you’ve have a drink. “You’re quite welcome” He says in a kind voice “but you have to take this with it” he says holding your hand out and placing a tiny blue pill in your palm.

You become nervous. “Austin what is this?” You question thinking he’s going to drug you again. His eyes wander over you affectionately. “Your birth control “ he says. “Oh.” You respond realizing what he wants. You place it in your mouth and swallow it down with water. “Good girl” compliments admiring your obedience.

Security Footage

He takes you to a new wing of the estate you haven’t been to before. As he walks you down a long hall to the end he stops at a large door with a security pad. He presses his thumb and opens the door allowing you both inside.

You enter his grandiose office. In the center is his desk which is conjoined by two upright office chairs . Two large low armchairs are spaced a few feet back from them with a coffee table in between. He has another ocean view from a giant glass window behind his desk. It is so bright out you can see it through the sliver of his open black out curtains.

His wall to your left is covered with a decorated book shelf and the wall on your right is covered with his movie memorabilia and awards.

He is a validated actor and it shows. You walk to take a closer look at an encased leather vest which reads “Benny, The Bikeriders 2024” then wander over to a case with two elborate blades crossed which reads “Feyd Rautha Dune Part Two 2024”, before finally looking into his awards shelf. There over 100 trophies spaced across twelve rows.

Your eyes grow wide unable to count them all before finally settling on reading his BAFTA from 2023 “ Best Male Lead Elvis.” You smile feeling proud of him. You have never met someone like Austin before. He is truly one of a kind and from the looks of it he worked hard to become as insanely rich as he is.

Austin takes his seat at the desk and opens his laptop. You know he is going to pull up the footage to watch and you apprehensively join him standing off to his side to view it.

He logs into his security system and you can see from the amount of cameras that he has every inch of the estate perimeter under surveillance.

The footage is live and you can see the movements of his gardener on one screen and look to another to see the movements of his maintenance man cleaning the pool.

Austin clicks his fingers on the keyboard pulling one section of time to take over the entire screen.

You lean closer to him at the desk to get a better look. It is night in the footage but his camera is equipped with low level lighting and you clearly see two figures walk out the back of the estate near the pool.

You recognize yourself with Austin. Your breathing increases as you watch how you drunkenly pull him under the awning of his out door bar.

He brings a bottle from behind the counter pouring you both shots, you cheers and drink them down before he pours another set and you do the same.

You watch yourself smiling and speaking to him before he pulls you close and begins kissing you heavily. His hands roam all over your body and take a firm squeeze of your ass.

He stops the kiss and you exchange a few words gazing into each others eyes until you stop talking and suddenly kneel down in front of him pulling his cock out of his sweat pants. In the footage you lower your head on his cock obscuring the view but Austin’s face can clearly be enjoying the blow job.

In his office you are shocked covering your mouth.

Austin peeks over and sees your surprised expression “This was your idea” he says with a naughty smirk. He looks back to the footage and watches you suck his cock with pure devotion on screen. It makes him hard all over again.

The footage seems to go on forever until he pulls his cock from your mouth and places his hand on your head. He ejaculates all over your mouth and chest, with his cum running down, it ruins your outfit.

He takes a deep breath in his office enjoying watching it happen again as he palms himself under the desk. “..That was my idea “ he says squeezing his tip trying to contain his arousal.

He watches next how he pushes your head back on his cock making you suck and swallow the last of his cum out. “Fuck you are such a slut for me” he says pausing the video. He already wants you again and downloads the segment of video to his phone before deleting it from the main stored footage.

He looks back to see your stunned expression.

"A-Austin this is so bad... In so many ways this is so ba-" he cuts you off as he stands and walks toward you "Why would you call it bad hm? I think you’re very attracted to your new boss" he admits looking over you as he smiles.

Now in your proximity he lowers his forehead to yours taking his hand to brush your hair away. He holds the back of your neck keeping you confined in the intimate space with him.

He smiles staring down at your lips “Your mouth felt so good sucking on my cock..... feeling your tongue licking all the mess you caused.” He confesses trailing his hands down your shoulders.

He hovers his lips just shy of yours “If you beg me again like a good slut…” He says bringing your hand to touch the hard bulge in his jeans. “I’ll let you suck my cock again right now.” He confesses grasping his hand on yours making you squeeze the enormity of his caged cock.

You let out a whimper as your knees go weak. Your heart begins pounding as you look into his eyes fighting yourself to be good.

He brings his firm chest to yours and cups his hands on your jaw slowly pulling your face to his. When he presses his soft lips on yours and erotically kisses all over your parted lips it ignites the spark in your core for him.

He licks his tongue across your lower lip coaxing you to open your mouth wider. When you allow him access he plunges his full tongue inside and swirls it around with yours. His lips begin heavily overlapping with you and he holds your jaw steady to take his mouth.

Your fingertips reach his firm biceps and begin to dig into the fabric of his sleeves trying to calm your rising urges for him but it is out of your control.

He grips your neck and pulls you into an even deeper kiss heavily flicking his tongue with yours making you so wet you remember you don’t have panties on. He pulls the kiss staying close with his mouth just inches from you as he speaks.

“Beg me” he says with a rasp in his voice as he presses his hard cock against the front of your pussy. You squirm from arousal and a light moan escapes your lips. He knows you need him just as much as he needs you.

“Please Austin” you beg with pleading eyes. He tucks his hand under your chin and smiles knowing you are desperate enough for his cock. “Beg me like a good slut and get on your knees.”He directs.

Any pride you had left is already gone after seeing yourself satisfy him on video. You immediately lower down on your knees for of him.

“You’re such a good girl for me” he says complimenting your obedience. He unbuttons and unzips his jeans with his restrained cock bulging directly in your face.

He lowers his hand into the band of his black boxers and pulls out his thick veiny cock. His size is so large you go weak from intimidation.“Open your mouth for me” he says placing his hand on your head.

You open your mouth and look up into his eyes as he places his cock head on your wet tongue. He groans at the soft warmth of your mouth and pushes his cock inside giving as much you can take until your mouth is stuffed full to your throat. You close your eyes and whimper around his cock as he rests it still. He guides your head back and forth on his length as you begin to suck his thick cock.

“Thats it baby girl……your doing so good for me…don’t choke” he says with his voice full of arousal. His phone begins to vibrate and he pulls it out of his back pocket answering it on speaker. He sets it on the desk. “Yea…” He says strained. You slide your head back to stop and he pushes your mouth back on him making you stay in place. A female voice comes through the speaker.

“Austin I would only call you if it was difficult and today Alisa is level ten. She wants to come to your house after school today can you pick her up and bring her to your place? ”

It’s Austin’s ex wife on the phone. You want to release his cock from your mouth immediately. You grab his thighs to push off but he holds your head firm on him. He begins gently thrusting into your mouth as you make small whimpers.

”Mmm” he sounds out from the pleasure of feeling his cock glide in and out. “Austin what are you doing? ”His ex wife questions “No no I cant pick her up ….today…. I’m busy” he gets out.

Because he won’t stop thrusting you give in and begin to suck his cock again. “MMM!” He moans louder over the phone as you slowly bob your head along his length. His ex wife gets angry “Look Austin we both know she is only coming over there because of the new girl you have.

She is non stop crying and asking for her and it’s driving me up the wall! I don’t want to do nails I don’t want to braid her hair and I definitely don’t have time for bed time stories!” She admits frustrated.

Austin’s breaths are huffing into the phone from your skill at this point “ Hire …-a nanny ….-then, unless you don’t trust …-Andy around …-her.” he finally struggles out.

“Austin you are such a prick, Andy is not the pervert you are the pervert. Who uploads pics like that to the cloud? Are you dumb? I forgot we even shared that account until the pictures popped up in our shared folder! You’ve been removed by the way. Also knowing you it was probably on purpose!” she snaps. Austin stills your head on his cock clearly engaged in the phone call now.

“Yea you’re right maybe I want you to see the one who pleases me better than you ever could. The way our kids beg for her makes me want her even more. How is Andy in the cock department by the way do you even finish?” There’s a long pause before her voice answers broken “Everything everyone has told be about you is true, you will never change ” the phone clicks.

Austin is enraged after the phone call with his ex. He grips his hand around your hair and pulls you from his cock standing you up and bending you over his office desk. He pins your hands behind you and lifts your shirt over your lower back completely exposing your bare ass for his disposal. "Let me go!! Austin this isn't funny!" you plead trying to release his grip on your wrists.

“C’mon slut stop moving or I will fucking send the videos to Mr.Milano and make him see what a needy whore he recommended." he threatens. You stop your movements after hearing those words. He has even more secret videos of you. "I'm not a slut!!" you say gritting your teeth finally outraged from the way he tricks and mistreats you.

“Oh so now you're not a slut? Then why are you so fucking wet hm?” He says pressing his fingertips to your pussy making a moan escape your lips. “You are nothing more than a filthy slut begging to suck my cock... Or I am wrong?" He leans over you awaiting your obvious response but instead you turn your head to the side not wanting to face him.

Tired of your bratty attitude he leans up without warning and sinks his fingers deep inside of your pussy "A-Ah Austin!!" you accidentally moan out from the pleasurable feeling. "Moaning like a good slut for me now huh?” He says pumping his fingers in and out of you. “Just say it tell me your my slut and I’ll let you cum” he says reaching a brutal pace that makes it impossible for you not to moan and whimper for him.

"N-No, I'm not... I-I'm not your..--..slut" you say breathless from his skill. Your cunt begins making squishing noises from being so wet "What a shame... I thought we had an understanding" he says ramming his knuckles against your wet pussy as his fingers glide in and out. You begin moaning on the desk as your coil tightens and you clench ready to cum. He quickly slips his fingers out leaving you with a desperate empty feeling.

"N-No!!.....please A-Austin!" You beg and jiggle your ass searching for any kind of friction. The only friction you get is a firm clap of his hand spanking your ass. You mewl at how hard he slapped your cheeks. "Uh-uh babe, this is what you're gonna get from me for being such a brat now.....take these spankings until your ass is red or accept you are my slut, only for me.”

You feel the resentment rising in your chest with his two options: either feel him punish you or feel him pleasure you.

“I'm.... I'm your slut.... Only for you A-Austin" you quickly tell him desperate for his pleasure again you are shocked with how fast your said it. For Austin it is music to his ears hearing those pretty words coming from your lips.

"Good girl" he says pushing his fingers deeply in your throbbing cunt again. You moan as he works them in and out at a feverish pace making the squishing noises return in your pussy until you clench on his fingers as you cum. You cry out his name and orgasm feeling the rush of endorphins flood your body as your pussy throbs on his fingers.

He releases your hands and his fingers from you and begins to take off all of his clothing. You turn to watch him undress finally seeing his stunning body. “Oh my god..” you let out looking over his defined chest and abs.

He looks in your eyes smiling as lowers his jeans to stand up revealing the large erect cock extended between his muscular thighs. You begin breathing deeper as a wave of arousal washes over you.

Your eyes are fixated between his legs on his size. His testis and tip are pink in color and his body is perfection matching his stunning face.

He smiles watching how aroused you are and comes closer. He slowly pulls the hem of your shirt lifting it up and over your head to have you naked. His eyes wander your curves with lust and he takes your hands luring you from his desk across the room.

You watch the way his cock sways from one thigh to the other until he rests back onto the large armchair. With his legs apart his cock stands firm and upright in his lap.

“Come fuck me” he commands staring into your eyes. You readily climb onto his lap with one knee on either side of his thighs.

He holds the base of his cock and places his hand on your waist slowly sinking you onto him pushing his large tip through your tight entrance. You try to take him all the way inside of you but stop halfway.

"S'too big A-aus" you pant out. You haven't been accustomed to his size and the overstimulation caused by being stretched makes it difficult for you to relax. "it's okay" he says caressing your arms gazing up into your eyes.

You wonder how he can spank you and call you a filthy slut one moment then be so caring and affectionate the next. It’s almost as if it never happened.

He pulls your body against his chest embracing you as his hands roam your back slowly trailing down and grabbing around your ass cheeks "We gotta make it hurt to make it fit inside." he says and grips your ass forcing you down making you take every inch of his cock.

“Oh f-fuck Austin!” You cry out wrapping your arms around his neck. You mute you whimpers onto his shoulder until the pain becomes to great. "A-Austin!! I don't think I can... T-Take more of i-it" you wail but your cries are like music to his ears, as you beg for him to stop he keeps thrusting into you.

He doesn’t slow his pace, this time he wants to hear you moan his name as you cry out in pain from him stretching your little tight pussy "You're doing so well babe... T-Taking me so..-fucking-... good" he says starting to grind your body against him to get you fitted to his cock.

You move from his chest and place your hands on his shoulders for more stability. You start to ride him knowing the pain will turn into pleasure as he told you before.

The room begins to fill with your moans as his cock starts to satisfy your core and you feel the euphoria from his size ."Oh h-honey, do I really make you feel this good?.... Do you like the feeling of my cock stretching your poor little..-fucking-.. pussy babe?" his voice sounds so raspy and desperate it makes you moan for more of him "mhmm!!" you sound as you nod.

He doesn’t like your stifled answer and corrects you with a harsh spank on your ass making you yelp "Use your words babe... Does your boss make your pussy wet?" He asks never breaking his gaze from your eyes.

You can’t even form words due to the overstimulation. He starts to thrust back into you with more intensity almost making you see stars "F-Fuck!! Yes Austin you do! I need y-you... P-Please Austin" you finally say as tears prick the corners of your eyes awaiting the sweet release of your imminent orgasm.

"Please what babe" He commands as his pace turns erratic, bouncing you on his cock and holding your waist . "m-Make me... Make me cum Austin!!" You shout. The coil already tight in your core gets even tighter as you loudly moan ."Cum babe... S-show me how..-fucking-.. much you-love my cock" he pants out.

You clench on him and cry out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you in powerful waves. Austin thrusts into your walls as they flutter against his cock loving every second of the way your walls squeeze him to try and drain his cum.

Once the fluttering subsides he slows his thrusts to a stop restraining his orgasm. “I can’t cum in you yet babe” he pants out looking into or eyes.

You instinctively slide off of his hard cock climbing down from his lap and kneeling infront of him. He makes a deep groan as you take his cock in your mouth.

You bob your head in a rhythm with your suction and he immediately squirts his cum down your throat.“UUHNNN” he yells gripping your hair as his head falls back. “Fuck!” He yells squeezing his eyes shut “Take all of my cum baby” He begs as he pants out of breath becoming weaker.

You slurp and suck his cock drinking it as he tilts his head down to look at you “fuck baby!” He says making you open your eyes to look up at him as you swallow. His eyes are lidded filled with immeasurable satisfation. “You’re so fucking good” he says breathless as you release his empty cock from your mouth.

He rests his head back onto the armchair again releasing your head and you lift from his cock. He stays lost in thought until he notices you trying to leave and locks eyes with you. “C’mere“ he says making you crawl up his body into his arms. He cuddles you naked on his chest with your ear resting in his shoulder as he brushes your hair back with his fingertips.

“Did you really send those pictures to your ex on purpose?” You ask with the only burning question on your mind” he smiles as he answers “yes.”

“Wont she tell people about us? She sounded really hurt Austin.” You admit. He smiles trailing his hand down your shoulder. “She signed an iron clad NDA she’s not saying shit.” He asserts. “Austin can I get dressed in my clothing now ?” You ask wanting to get on with your day.

“Mmm your yoga outfit belongs to me now baby, I can’t give it back. But I’ll let you wear it and take you shopping at a place I like in town to replace it” he says affectionately. You look up to him smiling that he calls you baby now.

He catches the glimmer of your crush on him in your eyes and he slowly smiles. “Would you like me to take you shopping now?” He asks with a grin and you nod knowing he will spend to spoil you. “Okay let’s get you showered and ready. With the dress you choose I want to take you on a date tonight.” He says watching your eyes light up.

He holds your chin and plants a kiss on your lips before he playfully spanks your ass to get up making you smile against each other. You both redress in his office together and he takes your hand leading you to the master bedroom. You wonder if he’ll ever allow you to go back to your apartment as you think of a way to ask him if you can check in for school tomorrow.

Next Chapter TBA

🥀 Tag list 🥀

@burnthheparaphilia @abswifey @faegoddessog @lindszeppelin @purejasmine @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @fallofthedamned @strangeninjaturtle @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic

#austin butler #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austinbutler #austin butler x reader #fanfic #austin butler smut fic #austin butler fic #smut #austin butler x fem!reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x #austin butler fandom #austin butler imagine #austinbutler x #austin butler reader #yandere #austin butler one shot #yande.re #shameless smut

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

That's My Wife - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x airline pilot!reader

Summary: 3.2k words. Rooster and his coworkers drew the short stick and ended up on a commercial civilian flight across the country for specialty flight training in Key West. A certain someone makes the flight and travel woes well worth the trouble for Bradley.

Warnings: none really, just tons of fluff! maybe some cursing & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader

a/n: hi!! i posted a little snippet/preview of this fic last night and def did not expect it to get as much attention as it did. i'm so happy that so many of you were just as excited as me to see the finished product! i hope y'all enjoy it! <3

master list

An advanced specialty flight training at the Naval Air Station in Key West had the best aviators in the U.S. military flocking to the vibrant Florida island. This, of course, included Top Gun’s best graduates.

Rooster, Phoenix, and Hangman all had impressive reputations before the Uranium Plant mission led by Maverick. After that mission? They were nothing short of living legends in the Navy. So, naturally, they were among the pilots being sent out for the rigorous training.

The Navy couldn’t rationalize sending a private charter plane or wasting the fuel needed to transport just a few pilots to a base thousands of miles away, so the three aviators were sent on a commercial flight. Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster got to experience the joys of civilian travel–long security lines through TSA, insufferably stressed-out travelers, and the overwhelming urge to get wasted at the bar conveniently located near their gate.

Hangman joked that if Rooster weren’t in uniform and instead wearing his typical Hawaiian shirts and jorts, he would’ve fit right in with the other passengers. Phoenix, who gave in and treated herself to a glass of wine, snorted before adding that Rooster was uptight enough then to blend in seamlessly.

Bradley would never admit it, but they were probably right. His one consolation was the smile his boarding pass brought to his face. The airline they were traveling with was familiar to Rooster to say the least.

The three aviators received priority boarding as active-duty military personnel. They sat at the very front of the cabin and Phoenix took the opportunity to people-watch as the rest of the passengers boarded. Hangman busied himself with looking into which Key West nightclubs and bars he could hit up after training while Rooster sent a quick text.

2:37 p.m.  Hey, baby. Just boarded the flight to Key West. I’ll talk to you when we land 😘 – Brad

2:38 p.m.  Have a safe flight, babe 😉💗 – y/n

Rooster chuckled at y/n’s use of a winking emoji before he turned his phone off and slipped it into his pocket. The flight attendants moved down the center aisle to begin their safety demonstration. Rooster was certain he’d sat through the same speech a thousand times, so he got comfortable and closed his eyes to take a nap.

A crackling from the plane’s speakers preceded what Rooster anticipated to be another relatively boring announcement.

“Good afternoon and welcome aboard, everyone. This is your Captain speaking,” an upbeat feminine voice floated through the aircraft’s speakers. Bradley’s eyes shot open wide and he sat up straight at the sound. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“No way…” he whispered to himself with a surprised smile.

Phoenix and Hangman shared a side-eye glance once they noticed the sudden change in Rooster’s demeanor. The man previously looked bored out of his mind and now he was hanging on to every word of the announcement. A wide grin spread across Rooster’s face while the pilot continued her introduction. As they taxied toward the runway, Hangman’s curiosity got the better of him.

“What is it, Bradshaw?” Jake asked with a raised brow. The bastard couldn’t help but be nosy. Phoenix softly elbowed Hangman in the ribs, but she certainly wasn’t tuning the conversation out. Rooster confidently squared his shoulders and turned to look at them.

“That’s my wife,” Rooster stated proudly, referring to the captain’s voice with a grin.

Hangman’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and Phoenix leaned back with an impressed smile. Rooster’s fellow aviators knew he was married; hell, he wore his wedding ring like a badge of honor. He was quick to reject the frequent flirting he received and would simply raise his left ring finger whenever he was asked out at The Hard Deck–the man was nothing if not loyal. But Rooster was never the type to speak about his personal life at work, much less mention that his wife is also a pilot.

In fact, the only person Rooster worked with that knew anything about y/n was Maverick. Bradley introduced them to each other a few months after they started dating. The younger Navy man knew by the end of their second date that y/n was it for him. It took y/n a little longer to come to the same conclusion, but once she did she never looked back.

Actually, it was Maverick that helped y/n realize just how head-over-heels in love she was with Bradley. He brought y/n to meet his stand-in father figure at Mav’s hanger. In the middle of y/n and Maverick geeking out about all the memorabilia displayed in the hanger and trading flight stories, Rooster ran out to silence his Ford Bronco’s ancient and overly-sensitive car alarm. Pete took the opportunity to let y/n know just how whipped his godson was. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time, y/n. He’s bailed on our dinner plans at least three times in the past month just to get a chance to see you when you’re in the area.” Maverick smiled and clasped y/n’s shoulder. “You’re good for him. I hope he’s good for you too.”

And the rest was history. Just after their one year anniversary, Bradley got down on one knee in the middle of a crowded airport after they spent three full weeks apart. y/n flung herself into Bradley’s arms, foregoing the ring entirely and pressed her lips against his before she said “yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” Maverick was one of the few people at their wedding. It was small and intimate–just how y/n and Rooster liked it. Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any means, but they preferred things to be private.

Rooster returned from his trip down memory lane as y/n reached the end of her airline spiel. Her simultaneous light-hearted bubbly tone and professional manner had Bradley sporting a sweet smile.

“Before we take off, there’s an additional announcement I’d like to make.” Rooster perked up. y/n was going off-script. “A little birdie told me that some very special Navy aviators are on board with us today,” y/n’s voice came through the speakers, pride seeping into her tone.

Phoenix and Hangman exchanged amused smirks before staring right at Rooster. In a different scenario, the sudden attention focused on him might’ve made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t care less right now. His wife, whom he hadn’t seen in over a week, was just steps away and he would be able to hold her in his arms again soon.

“Thank you for your service, lady and gents,” y/n finished sincerely. A polite applause filled the aircraft, bringing appreciative smiles to the aviators’ faces. Rooster wasn’t surprised that y/n somehow found out they were on her flight; he knew better than anyone that she was particularly skilled at getting what she wanted, evidently including private passenger information.

With their busy schedules and unpredictable jobs, y/n and Rooster would sometimes go weeks without seeing each other. y/n was gaining seniority in her airline, so she was able to pick and choose her flights sometimes–all of which she strategically planned to be able to visit her husband. When they were on opposite sides of the country, or even the world, it was harder to align their schedules for just a phone call. 

A few nights ago, they had synced-up free time and they didn’t waste a minute. Despite the time zone differences, they talked on the phone for hours. Bradley told y/n about his upcoming week of specialty training at the Naval Air Station in Key West. Since there was no pressing mission or deployment, the Navy was opting to send Rooster and his coworkers on a commercial flight rather than coordinate Navy transport. y/n hummed and checked her schedule while they talked. Lo and behold, she would be piloting a flight from San Diego to Key West later that week. Specifically, Rooster’s flight.

y/n didn’t let on anything about their upcoming flight during the phone call, she wanted it to be a surprise. If there was anything being a commercial passenger pilot taught her, it was how to make sure no one suspected anything was wrong while she spoke into her headset mic. Once, she had to make an announcement to casually address turbulence despite her internal panic while she discreetly manually redistributed fuel between engines when the automatic fuel system failed on a cross-country flight.

The very next morning following Rooster and y/n’s phone call, she pulled a few strings at work and was able to glance at the passenger details for the upcoming direct SAN to EYW flight.

Seat 1D: Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

Seat 1E: Lt. Natasha Trace

Seat 1F: Lt. Jake Seresin

If any policies or procedures were violated in the process of y/n finding the answer to her burning question, no one batted an eye. After all, she was quite possibly the most beloved pilot in her airline. So, that’s how she found out exactly which of Rooster’s coworkers would be accompanying him.

As the plane sped down the runway, quickly gaining enough momentum for take-off, Bradley and y/n both fiddled with their wedding rings. It was a habit they’d developed independently, ironically enough.

y/n’s ascent into the air was smooth as always. Even the most nervous passengers appreciated the light-as-a-feather feeling settling over them as y/n gently reached cruising altitude. Rooster was no stranger to his wife’s expert precision and careful handling of her aircrafts. Phoenix and Hangman were thoroughly impressed by y/n’s skill and ease.

Once the fasten seatbelt lights were turned off, the flight attendants made their way down the center aisle of the plane with snack and beverage carts. Hangman didn’t hesitate to order a double shot of whiskey, earning him an incredulous look from both Rooster and Phoenix. ”What happens on this flight, stays on this flight,” he muttered, ignoring the sting in his throat after downing a third of the glass in one go. Phoenix shrugged and ordered herself another glass of wine. Rooster rolled his eyes at both of their antics. Before he could place his own order, the flight attendant addressed him directly.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw? Captain Bradshaw has requested to see you in the cockpit.” Rooster stood up without hesitation, a wide smile on his face. Hangman’s jaw dropped, a small huff escaping his mouth and Phoenix swatted his chest. Before making the short trek to the cockpit, he bought a bag of gummy worms from the snack cart. 

He gently rapped his knuckles against the door before slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. y/n didn’t hear Bradley enter the cockpit over her headset, but she instantly recognized his warm cologne. She whipped around and smiled wide at him, taking her co-pilot by surprise. The co-pilot offered to take over and y/n gladly accepted the offer.

y/n typically didn’t haphazardly hop out of her seat while piloting a massive plane with over 200 passengers, but for Bradley, she’d make an exception. She all but threw herself into his arms, sending them both stumbling back a few steps. Rooster gently pulled y/n’s headset off, careful not to mess up her neatly styled hair, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. y/n’s co-pilot pretended not to notice, but the embarrassed blush spreading across his cheeks gave him away. When y/n pulled away to catch her breath, Bradley pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“How’d you know we’d be on your flight?” he asked, brushing some hair away from his wife’s face.

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” y/n teased with a wink. Rooster was no stranger to y/n’s scheming, but it typically worked out to his advantage so he could live without knowing the details.

She all but did a happy dance at 34,000 feet in the air when Bradley pulled out the pack of gummy worms he hid in his pocket. y/n had admitted on more than one occasion she often got the munchies on longer flights with only stale peanuts to hold her over. She leaned against her husband’s chest and tore into the package of sugary goodness, offering a few gummy worms to her co-pilot in exchange for him swearing to secrecy.

The plane shuddered from a brief pocket of turbulence–one that y/n would’ve handled better, Rooster thought. Bradley braced himself against the wall and pulled y/n against his body to keep her from falling.

“Do you remember the first time we were in the cockpit of a plane together?” Rooster asked with a reminiscent smile. That first experience was undoubtedly more harrowing then the current one. y/n chuckled at the memory.

“I could never forget it, honey,” y/n smiled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek before offering him a gummy worm. The couple stood comfortable in silence for a few minutes, arms wrapped around each other. With the amount of time they spent apart, every moment they got together was precious. Even if they were simply holding each other in the cramped cockpit of an airplane.

y/n’s attention was pulled away from Bradley when a warning light lit up on the dashboard, accompanied by a shrill beeping. Her co-pilot turned back to her, silently signaling that she was needed back in the pilot seat. With a heavy sigh, she untangled herself from Bradley’s arms and pressed a final peck to his lips with a promised “I’ll see you later, baby.”

Rooster watched his wife climb in her well-deserved pilot seat and slip her headset back on. She switched back to her professional demeanor with an impressive ease as she worked to remedy the dash’s highlighted issue.

He wordlessly slipped out of the cockpit and back to his seat. Hangman, who was on the brink of tipsy after his strong whiskey, lost all sense of discretion as Rooster sat back down in his seat.

“Bradshaw, you sly dog. Was the Missus excited to see you?” Hangman poked, focusing on the lipstick print adorning Rooster’s cheek. Phoenix passed Rooster a napkin with a grin of her own. Bradley rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile.

With just an hour left in the flight, y/n handed all the controls over to her co-pilot so she could stretch her legs. Lucky for her, her husband was seated just outside of the cockpit. Whoever booked the seats for the aviators knew what they were doing; Bradley Bradshaw was too tall for his own good, something y/n reminded him of frequently. Ironically enough, she never brought up that teasing point when she needed help reaching something around the house or when they went grocery shopping. The point is, being seated at the very front of the cabin gave Bradley sufficient room for his long legs.

y/n slipped out of the cockpit as inconspicuously as possible. She learned from past experience that passengers tended to freak out when they saw pilots, well, not piloting in the cockpit while the plane was airborne. y/n smiled softly as she took in the sight of her husband quietly snoring with his head leaned back against the chair and mouth wide open. She thought about taking a photo, but she was nearly positive Jake Seresin already had based on the devious grin on his face.

Phoenix noticed movement in the front of the cabin, her eyes eventually landing on a woman in a formal pilot uniform. Her face looked familiar. Phoenix was sure she’d seen her somewhere before. With a final squint, she realized the woman a few strides away was the same woman in all of Rooster’s locker polaroids. Mrs. Bradshaw in the flesh.

y/n offered a friendly smile to Phoenix, who seemed to have figured out who she was. Hangman was still focused on the picture he intended to eventually use for blackmail. Phoenix gently shook Rooster’s shoulder, stirring him from his nap. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before his eyes settled on his wife.

“Good morning, Brad,” y/n cooed and reached out to grab his hand. He quickly checked his watch before pulling y/n in and kissing the back of her hand.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted with a glint in his eye. y/n chuckled, she knew he was holding himself back from calling her a smart ass while she was on the job. Hangman watched the interaction in awe. Not only did Bradshaw have a skilled pilot wife, but she was also gorgeous and witty? Jake briefly thought about asking Rooster for dating pointers.

The sleepy fog clouding Rooster’s brain cleared when he had three expectant sets of eyes on him, waiting for him to make introductions. He introduced Natasha and Jake first, citing their names and call signs, even though y/n already knew both from the stories her husband told.

“Phoenix, Hangman, this is Captain y/n Bradshaw, my wife,” Rooster finished with a warm smile. Man, he was whipped.

“Outranked by your wife, huh, Bradshaw?” Hangman jabbed harmlessly. The whiskey wore off a while ago, but Jake was always eager for an opportunity to poke fun at Rooster.

“Mmm, I outrank you as well, Lieutenant,” y/n smiled sweetly, responding without missing a beat. Phoenix chuckled and held out her hand to high-five y/n for her quick comeback. Jake was certain he heard Rooster mutter “that’s my girl,” as he looked up at his wife with a grin.

Rooster’s coworkers made small talk with y/n as she pulled her leg up behind her in a subtle stretch, using her husband’s hand to keep steady before switching sides and repeating the motion. In just the span of the few minutes y/n spent talking to Hangman and Phoenix, all of Bradley’s stories involving them made so much sense. When there was a brief lull in conversation, y/n checked her wristwatch, her eyes widening when she realized she’d been out for longer than expected.

“It was really nice to meet you guys, but I gotta get back in there,” y/n said apologetically. Hangman and Phoenix nodded in understanding, they were more than familiar with the painstaking pillar of time in aviation. Bradley gently squeezed y/n’s hand before she left, still trying to shake his nap-induced daze.

y/n turned on her heel just before reaching the cockpit door to face Bradley again.

“Are you free tonight?” y/n asked hopefully. The week-long training wasn’t scheduled to start until the following day, but she knew it wasn’t unlikely that the Navy would have Rooster busy in his spare time beforehand. His wife’s soft voice and wishful eyes were more than enough to have Bradley’s heart melting. Hell, he’d hand in his resignation as soon as the plane landed if it meant he could spend some time with y/n.

“For you? Always, baby,” Bradley smiled and winked at y/n. The captain grinned and slipped back into the cockpit, looking forward to being back on the ground with her husband.

a/n: did anyone notice the Top Gun (1986) reference 👀? anyways, i hope u liked it! pls lmk what you think, i love reading ur comments & reblogs! :)

also!! i have a bit of a prequel for how rooster & pilot!reader met in the works. i'll finish it up & post it if anyone is interested :)

#rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine

[etheries1015]

Malleus X reader- when you wish upon a star

Malleus looked down at you with kind eyes as he held out his wishing star, you taking a hesitant glance at the fae.

"Are you sure you want to give it to me? I don't particularly have a wish in mind," you shrugged. Malleus urged it into your hands before stating;

"Well, grim took yours and crowley did not allow you to have a second one, correct? I have no need for such a silly tradition. If I would like something, I can simply ask for it," Malleus said with endearment hinting in his voice. You sighed before finally agreeing, taking in a deep breath before closing your eyes and making your wish.

"I wish...that the people from my world can forget me." Malleus started at this, eyes widening in shock, while you stared blankly down into your hands only to see that the star had not glown to your wish. Chuckling in disappointment you handed the rock back to Malleus, who stared at you in bewilderment.

"It won't come true, anyways," you sighed, "Like Idia said, it reacts to body heat and traces of magic. And I'm...completely magicless. What a sick reminder, I can't even make a wish," you let out a shaky laugh with a melancholic look glinting in your eyes.

"Why do you wish to be forgotten, child of man?" Malleus finally inquired, "I'm sure anyone you knew from where you hail wouldn't want to forget you, surely." You couldn't meet his gaze, instead you placed your hands in your pockets before kicking a rock on the ground down the steps of ramshackle.

" It doesn't look like I will be able to go back anytime soon. It would be much less painful for them if they forgot me, If they havent already. I...am easily forgetable. Always have been, always will be..." You shook your head as another sigh escaped your trembling lips. "Sorry... I didnt mean to sully the mood-" you were interrupted by strong arms pulling you into an embrace. Malleus was hugging you tightly, using one hand to hold your head and the other to carefully hold the star.

"I wish..." He whispered after a moment of silence and hesitation, "I wish that I will never, ever forget you. I wish for all of your woes to resolve, and I wish that you will find a way home. I wish you can smile happily in your future, and I wish you can see just how important you are."

The star began to glow brightly, more brilliant than any of the other stars that had shined during the entire starsend event. You froze in place in the warmth of his arms, it didnt occur to you that tears bad begun to stream down your face. You held onto Malleus tightly, the fae stroking your hair comfortingly.

"I could never forget someone as kind as yourself, (y/n)," he said, "even when you inevitably find a way back home, I will forever remember you as the human who treated a fae such as myself as if I were just another student. You are far more important than you may realize, and I'm sure everyone that you left behind eagerly await your return." You couldn't bring yourself to find a response, you only shook your head and cried even harder.

He really knew how to make you feel special, even when it seems as if you can easily disappear into the shadows without anyone giving a second thought. Malleus Draconia....you too, shall not forget him.

~~

It was probably a bad idea for him to make so many wishes though. And with his immense amount of magical prowess, your intimate moment was quickly interrupted by the star shattering. Oops!

~~ end

A/n- I was thinking about a scenario about maybe Yuu using their wish for Malleus, wishing he would live a life that wasn't lonely or something like that. However...I felt like it would be a...cooler twist if we had insecure and lonely Yuu instead.

This was also thrown together on a whim. Not my best works but feel free to check out my master list for more content.

#malleus #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #Malleus x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland fanfics #Twisted wonderland malleus

[russiawave]

What is ur favorite russian literature ?

School made reading classic russian literature feel like torture for most russians (me included) so I'm not a big fan of it.

here's a list of books for the basic school program if you're interested.

"Master and Margarita", "Heart of a Dog", "The White Guard" etc by M. Bulgakov.

"A Hero of Our Time", "The Novice" etc by M. Lermontov,

"Crime and punishment", "The Idiot", “ The Brothers Karamazov”, “The Gambler” etc by F. Dostoevsky,

"Fathers and Sons", "Mumu" (don't read it if you love animals, you'll cry for a week) etc by I. Turgenev,

"Eugene Onegin" and all of the work by A. Pushkin,

"War and peace", " Childhood, Boyhood, Youth", " Anna Karenina" etc by L. Tolstoy,

"Dead souls", "Evenings on a Farm Near Dikanka", "The Government Inspector", "Taras Bulba" etc by N. Gogol,

"Woe from Wit" by A. Griboyedov,

"Oblomov" by I. Goncharov,

"The Cherry Orchard", "Kashtanka", "The Man in the Case" etc by A. Chekhov

"The Garnet Bracelet" by A. Kuprin

"The Storm", "Without a Dowry" by A. Ostrovsky

"Poor Liza" by N. Karamzin

"And Quiet Flows the Don" by M. Sholokhov

"The Lower Depths" etc by M. Gorky,

"The Minor " by D. Fonvizin

+ everything by poets of the silver age such as Sergey Esenin, Alexander Blok, Mikhail Kuzmin, Osip Mandelshtam, Anna Akhmatova, Boris Pasternak, Marina Tsvetaeva, Velimir Khlebnikov, Vladimir Mayakovsky etc.

[sky-kiss]

I’m prompting you for ascended fiend Raphael. The scenario is your oyster but I vote for deliciously sinful and nasty. 😈

But if not that one, I do have a prompt idea of Tav saving Raphael (and Haarlep) from an assassination attempt in his boudoir and whatever shenanigans/reactions you’d want to explore. 😂

A/N: I have a few other nasty prompts for the Ascended Lad, so let’s (attempt to) ASSASSINATE THE BOYS. I made it silly. The lads were having a good time. I’m sorry.

_______

R/T/H: 18+: Assassins are so five minutes ago, darling.

_______

"Heroism" is the last thing on Tav's mind as she storms through the House of Hope. "Annoyed" is high on her emotional list, falling just shy of "murderous" and "sexually frustrated." And while these states of emotional flux were often confusing, she has the rare and dubious pleasure of knowing the exact source of her woes. 

Raphael, by way of Haarlep. The Hero of Baldur's Gate chews the inside of her cheek hard enough that it might draw blood. It's still early morning back in Faerun, too early for breakfast, which has not dissuaded Raphael a lick. He's been eating for hours, the little shit. He is never so overtly generous, not without a contract on the table, and so Tav knows it's a deliberate play. He wants her attention; he's too proud to ask so…

…Haarlep. She didn't need to see them or ask for confirmation to know it had been their idea. The incubus had pitched it with a smile on their face and a song in their heart. 

Unsurprisingly, the boudoir's barrier does not stop her. The magic washes over her like an old friend, a touch oily, intimate like a caress. The second she crosses the threshold, the pleasure shifts. Raphael presses his tongue flat against her clit, warm, static pressure. The fingers in her cunt still, an agonizing stretch promising such pleasure if she can ride the wave a little higher. 

"Master, oh, Master, please…" Haarlep cries. It's Tav's voice- wrecked, breathy, and close to sobbing. It's an obvious exaggeration. These situations always inspire Haarlep. A voice in her head, eternally practical and sounding like Jaheira, says she should feel offended by this indignity. 

The problem is she can feel how it affects Raphael. The way his hand tightens on her hip. He shifts against the mattress, grinding his hips down, suckles at her clit. All the strength threatens to leave her knees as Haarlep comes apart, gushing over the cambion's face. 

Well, good for them. 

But back to the "heroism" section of our narrative. 

The fact of the matter is it all comes down to luck. Haarlep's orgasm is intense enough to stop her cold. Those few minutes are why she's lingering in the foyer instead of standing by the foot of the bed. It's the reason she sees the shimmering figure slip in through the window, little more than a few flickering dust motes. Tav frowns, summoning enough presence of mind to focus on the intruder and not the sensation of her doppelganger sinking on a perfectly lovely cock.  

The stranger makes a critical mistake: they hesitate, knife raised above their head. Cold iron or not, she can't think of a less effective assassination attempt. That points to an irritated debtor rather than a competitor in the Infernal Courts. Tav crashes into the would-be assassin. The impact sends them sprawling. 

Fucking Haarlep never even stutters, riding the Archduke with a practiced, effortless grace Tav would admire under less pressing circumstances. She clears her throat. 

"Oh, we heard you, little thief." Haarlep opens their eyes long enough to wink, palming their breasts. Tav glares. The incubus pinches their nipple in response, hard enough to leave Tav shifting. "Nearly finished with that?" 

"With the assassin?"

Raphael chuckles. The low rumbling sound makes her shiver. It's gratifying to know the feeling is mutual; Haarlep's cunt clenches, pace stuttering briefly. The incubus grumbles something in Infernal before resuming a more leisurely pace. "We appear to be in danger, Haarlep. Were you aware?" 

"Such danger. Whatever would we have done without our stalwart protector?" 

The cambion smiles. Handsome, so fucking gorgeous. The assassin twitches under Tav, still clearly present. No matter what the devils would like to pretend. "How should we repay her for this kindness?" 

"The assassin, Raphael!" 

He frowns. The devil pats Haarlep's hip, stilling them. He snaps his fingers, and the assassin vanishes in a shimmering veil of hellfire. Off to languish in his dungeon, no doubt. "There, pet. Are you content now? Can you be civil?" The absurdity of the statement leaves her sputtering. Raphael looks at her, brow furrowing, confused and irritated. "Well, what are you doing down there? Or will I have to make it an invitation?" 

"Someone tried to kill you." 

Haarlep laughs. "Old news. Why linger? We'd far prefer guiding you to a little death, sweetling." 

"Come, mouse." 

And she hates it. She hates the abuse of power, hates their dismissiveness…

…hates that she's rolling her eyes and crawling into bed to join them. 

#bg3 raphael #haarlep #raphael x tav #smuttyish #asks #my writing #LOOK IM SORRY #IM SURE YOU MEANT AN ACTUAL ATTEMPT BUT #...they got carried away

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twelve

Master List of Series

I just wanted to give a quick shout-out to @sunny-boy-06 . They've been someone whose name is always in my notifs. You've been a lurker on this account, but I see you! You always like every post I make, whether it's regarding this story or not, and I just want to let you know your support doesn't go unnoticed. Thank you. <3

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I hope y'all like this chapter. It's quite the eventful one. I apologize if it's information overload. If it is too much or you have any comments or questions, don't hesitate to ask! It always makes me smile having interactions with everyone. It's one of the reasons I love writing so much on platforms like these. 

Translation Guide: Lykemās: easy, be quiet. 

Chapter Warnings: Description of urination, Angsty girl with unresolved trauma, Violence, Sweet baby girl Aegon.

A cloaked figure stumbled through the alleyways of Kings Landing, bumping into townsfolk and mumbling as the stench of alcohol radiated off his body. Men and children alike turned their heads at the hunched man, their faces covered in disgust as they avoided him. Another poor drunkard from Flea Bottom, they thought, paying him no mind.

A woman, clearly a harlot by the bleached streak of dye in her hair, was speaking to a merchant, stroking vibrantly colored fabric in a suggestive way as the hobbled figure passed. A strand of white caught her eye, hearing the familiar ramblings in her ear. Quickly, she forgot her current mission, slinking away as she ran to her Mistress's home.

The crowned Prince Aegon wandered mindlessly on the merchant Streets of Kings Landing, searching for his next drink in all the wrong places. How low he had become these past few years, moaning and groaning about how unhappy he was and how unfair his life is. He had only wanted one thing in his existence, which was always out of reach.

Love.

Love from his mother, father, brother, sister, you-- from anyone he met.

Aegon did not know why he starved for it or went through the streets at night searching for love. Perhaps during his conception, the Gods decided he would never know what it felt like for someone to stare at him with stars in their eyes, kissing his woes away as they whispered those three words.

"I love you..."

But perhaps not. The most likely reason Aegon never experienced that warm feeling from someone was most evident at this very moment as he felt liquid pool below his stomach.

"Fuck," he mumbled, turning down a corner with far fewer people as he unlaced his soiled trousers between a cluster of wooden crates and barrels.

He could hear those who regrettably crossed his stream shouting in disgust as his piss covered their shoes. How lucky, Aegon justified, they have royal piss on their clothes, not just some common one.

Suddenly, the bright autumn sun disappeared, eclipsing the surrounding area in darkness. Aegon quickly looked up with his eyes squinted and mouth agape, stuffing himself back into his pants. In a flash, the sun was back again, the outline of what could only be a tail soaring above him and out of view.

"Aemond," he snorted, "arrogant prick."

His brother must have taken Vhagar out for a morning stroll. He ignored it, accustomed to his brother's theatrics. Aemond had the largest dragon the world had ever seen. Aegon would've boasted too.

The elder Prince sniffled as if dismissing the thought as he walked into nowhere. If he traveled long enough; eventually, the sweet nectar of Arbor Red would appear in his hands. He would find that taste, no matter that he was actually passed out in the same spot for the past two sun positions.

***

Common folk in the town's square stared at you in awe as you descended the rope ladder down Cannibal's enormous back. You were sure they had never seen a dragon so close before, your Targaryen brethren keeping the beasts deep inside Rhaenys's hill and only letting them soar the skies.

One person, a young boy, stepped closer to your dragon, his curious nature getting the best of him as Cannibal snapped his jaws with a snarl. The boy stumbled backward as Cannibal recoiled, separating you and the townsfolk with his enormous body.

The formerly wild dragon still held the same spirit as before, unwelcoming to the presence of so many people. He could not be around any of your family's dragons, sticking to his den on the eastern side of Dragonmont. After several months of you and Cannibal's partnership, Luke had convinced you to take your dragons out for riding. The Keepers warned against it, but you did it anyways, and the young Arrax nearly paid his life for it when Cannibal lunged, his teeth flaring at the poor juvenile.

"Lykemās, Cannibal," you soothed, stroking your hand along his large snout, his obsidian scales reflecting the midday sun. He took a deep breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring as he released you from the protective embrace.

The young boy stood frozen in place, watching your mighty dragon with wonder in his eyes. That would have been you standing there if not for those fateful days in the past, mesmerized by the shiny black skin of Cannibal. A half-hearted smile rose onto your face at the memories, painful and bittersweet.

"Ten Golden Dragons should be enough for you to buy my companion your protection and some pork loins, yes?" you asked the boy absentmindedly as you searched your purse for some coins.

"Ye-yes, ma'am," the child nodded, his voice shaky.

"Good," you acknowledged, handing him the money, and you turned back to your dragon. "I shant be long boy. Be good now, Cannibal. This kind ser right here has promised to watch after you." Cannibal moved his head, and you couldn't help but feel he was mocking you.

Yes, your sweet, temperamental cannibalistic dragon did not need protection, but it was not for his safety but more for the dozens of ordinary folk beginning to crowd around him.

"Do not let people get so close to him. I cannot be sure that he would not eat a houseful of them in one bite," you whispered to the child, surveying the onlookers. He nodded enthusiastically at your words, taking the coins as he stepped closer to Cannibal as any curious child would. "Oh, and," you paused, remembering another critical piece of information, "do not pet him. The last time someone attempted that, they got their arm ripped out."

You offered him a small smile as he quickly backed up, fear clouding his puggish face.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your wrinkled riding clothes as you went to Flea Bottom, your home.

***

Even in the cooler autumn breeze, it smelled like curdled milk and feces. Though your nose scrunched in disgust, everything brought a nostalgic feeling to your heart. You had remembered the rushed layout of the place, watching the residents walk up their chipped sandstone staircases to their houses, clothes in mere tatters. You remembered running through these same alleyways as a child, dodging drunkards and Gold Cloaks with your pockets and satchels full of trinkets and fruits.

Everything was far less severe then. There were no courtly manners to worry about, no special dresses to wear at certain times, no obligation to train or speak a certain way, and no worries of succession.

It was simple, and you missed it, but in the same breath, you wouldn't change your life for anything.

How many people could say they tame the wildest dragon in the world? A dragon that sent others of its species cowering in fear. A dragon that ate other dragons for breakfast. Not even Aemond Targaryen could say that. Largest dragon be damned.

Ma's place was still the same. The only different thing was a carved wooden sign stating the name of her business, and the steps were more worn than you remembered—a victim of time, just like you.

Father had forbidden you to write to her, demeaning her a traitor of the crown for keeping you hidden, but Rhaenyra, ever the tender-hearted mother, could not bear to keep you from the only person in your old life. She had lost her mother just as you had, in the birthing bed. It was one of the reasons you had become close. She could not bear being a willing participant in your lack of communication with the woman who was the maternal figure in your early life. She would send the letters with her royal seal, her husband never knowing of your secret correspondence.

Your knock was barely audible on the door, fading into the background of the bustling streets of Flea Bottom. It flung open anyways, the person no doubt waiting for your arrival as you were crushed in a flurry of skirts and limbs. You could barely breathe as the person crushed you in their embrace, rocking you back and forth as they mumbled excitedly.

"Oh, my sweet, sweet little girl, how I've missed you," Madam squealed into your shoulder. You had nearly grown a full head taller than her in your time away and couldn't help but hug her back. "You're so strong," she said, releasing you and squeezing your biceps, "and tall! Dear Mother, you have grown! They must bee feeding you well! I should hope so," she chortled, "considering the taxes they're making us pay now." Ma shook her head, her hands on her hips as you stood awkwardly.

"Never mind that!" She swatted the subject of your family's taxation away with her hand, pulling you in by the wrist. "Come! Come sit, I've made your favorite, or at least I hope it is still your favorite," she added, a sad look glossing over her deep-set eyes.

"What is it, Ma?" You asked, hoping to reel her mind back into the present instead of wherever it went.

"Apple Muse," she chirped, her face bright once more. "Though, I am sure it is not nearly as good as the ones on Dragonstone. I recall how much you adored them in your letters."

You felt terrible at the evident insecurities Ma had, afraid that you had grown into a more refined palette. You had, but Apple Muse was something easy and quick they made in the kitchens with few ingredients. It was peasant food, and you liked it because it reminded you of the life you once had.

"I will adore yours just as well," you grinned at her. "It is the purpose and memories around the food for which I like it. I always think of you when I eat it."

"Wonderful! I wasn't sure when you would arrive, so I've had it simmering in the pot. It just needs a moment to cool, and then I can pour it." You nodded, your eyes drifting around the kitchen where you had many of your first meals.

The pot Ma was cooking in was still the same, a sturdy iron built for years of use, and the fireplace it sat inside was blackened with soot. The wood looked lighter from sun damage through the window. A few cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and you had to hold back the urge to knock them down with your sword.

"Ma? Could I," you paused, tucking your lower lip in to bite it as she turned. "Is it possible for me to see my old room? If it is not in use," you quickly added, realizing that much time had passed and she was still a businesswoman.

"Yes," she answered, wiping her palms on her brown apron and plucking the circle of keys from her hip. "I... I could not bear to let anyone use it, even after all of these years." You regarded her with a soft smile, picking out the key to your old bedroom as you hugged her.

You knew it was painful. The near-decade spent without the child you raised across the sea, missing so much of her life. It was agony for Madam at times, waiting for that measly scrap of parchment with a wax seal, her only communication with someone she regarded as her own. It still pained her greatly to think about when you were upset, seeking comfort in the arms of people who did not know you. Not like she did. Madam laid the foundation of you, but the Targaryens built upon it. She would despise them for eternity because of that, no matter how handsomely Aegon paid her girls.

The staircase you stomped up as a child creaked loudly, running your hand along the railing as more memories flashed across your eyes. You recalled Lyra chasing you down these stairs with a mouse between her fingers, squealing and giggling as she dangled it by its tail until Madam put her foot down. She had caught it scampering out of a room one day, no doubt the culprit for all the holes in the girls' shoes that had been plaguing them for weeks.

You begged Lyra not to kill the poor creature, something so small and innocent doing what it needed to survive. She compromised, having you follow her to a stable house, releasing the tiny thing into the haystacks. It would be free to roam and bother the farmers instead of the whores. The memory pained you now.

You reached your door, struggling to unlock the stiff handle. It was hidden around a corner at the end of the hall. Someone would have to know precisely where they went inside the brothel to find the room. You never fully understood why. Only when it was too late.

Finally, the knob jiggled, and you shoved once, twice, before it opened, stirring up the undamaged items in an explosion of dust. Your small cot was neatly made, unlike how you left it on that fateful day.

The few dresses you had as a child were still untouched, except for the few holes that littered the skirts and arms from moths. You stroked the fabric, rough and scratchy, unlike the smooth, tailored clothes you wear now.

You sat on your bed, the straw mattress unforgiving with your weight as it snapped and cracked. You knew it would not break. It could fit you and Aunt Lyra in the small space as she tickled and teased your writhing form. A sigh escaped your mouth, your shoulders deflating as you looked at the abandoned area, a hollow, empty feeling enveloping your chest.

What would your life have been like if Daemon had never found out you existed? Would you still be sleeping in this same room? In the same tiny bed, you rested in as a child, or would you be in a different one? In a place fit for a girl of your size. Would you be a working girl or training to one day take Ma's place as the owner of this establishment?

One thing you knew for sure was that Lyra would be alive. You half expected her head to pop through the doorway, her blue eyes bright with contagious excitement as she invited you on a new adventure. The feeling was fleeting, your grief attempting to trick you into a reality that would never be.

Madam called to you over the symphony of moans you had drowned out, letting you know the food was ready. You stood, walking silently over to your door, shutting it and locking the knob, leaving everything as it once was.

***

"Lookie what we haves here," a man with a thick northern accent said in the darkness, kicking Aegon out of his slumber.

The sun had long set, and the nightlife was in full swing. Where had the time gone? Aegon looked around perplexed, his body forcing him to stop at the pounding of his head.

"This one 'ill be easy," another man out of the group commented, "He's already passed out drunk."

"Oi! Had more ale than you can handle," he shouted into Aegon's face, the man's breath indicating the same applied to him.

The Northern Man crouched down to his level, grabbing him by his chin and slapping him on the cheek for good measure. The dingy cloak that had hidden his white hair fell, revealing his identity.

"Aye. He's a Targaryen," a third man that Aegon overlooked said, a short dagger glinting in his hand.

"So?" The Northern Man questioned, not seeing the problem with his victim's identity. "We're only gonna mug 'em and send 'em on his merry way."

"He's seen our faces," the second thug expressed worriedly.

Aegon, in fact, had not seen their faces. His eyes were blurry, and the alley was too dark for him to see, but you had seen, watching the interaction behind them, as silent as a mouse. It had surprised you how easily the Prince's location had fallen into your lap. One of Madam's girls had interrupted your meal, out of breath as she told Ma what she saw.

It had turned out, in your years away, Madam had created quite the network of spies rivaling that of the White Worm. Her reach traveled all through Westeros and even across the Narrow Sea. It should not have been a shock how much her hands extended, ever the entrepreneur.

The leader, you could only assume, waved his grimy hand in front of Aegon, and when he made no reaction, he gestured to his conspirators. They reluctantly followed his actions, picking poor helpless Aegon up as one delivered a blow to his gut. Both you and Aegon winced but couldn't help the smile that made its way onto your lips. You would let them have their fun. He deserved it, after all.

After a brutal punch to the Prince's nose, blood gushing down his chin, did you finally intervene.

You unsheathed your sword quietly, still not wanting your presence to be known, as you stepped behind the man with the dagger. He posed the most threat until your steel blade sliced his hand clean off his wrist.

The man screamed in agony, clutching his dismembered arm as blood spurted from his wound, soaking the weathered stone below. The other two turned in your direction, your riding cloak keeping your figure in the darkness. The crimson dots shining on your sword gave them an indication of where you might be, pausing for a moment as they thought of their actions.

Quickly and with shaking hands, both Aegon's attackers drew their knives, mere toothpicks compared to your weapon. You couldn't help the laugh that escaped as you saw them step closer to you, their metal sticks trembling in their grasp.

The more dim-witted of the two lunged forward, swiping his blade where he assumed your torso was, but missing by an arm's length as you swiftly parried, knocking his knife to the ground and kicking it behind you. He froze in place, his partner attempting to do the same tactic but getting closer as you dodged.

Still, with a smile, you moved out of reach, slinking behind the pair, the fabric of your cloak flapping with your movements. They came at you simultaneously, but your arms were faster, deeply cutting across the abdomen of one, jumping out of the other's path as his inebriated body smacked against a stone wall. You did not stifle your laugh this time, letting it vibrate your chest as he fell flat on his back, his head smacking the hard ground.

"That was easier than anticipated," you said aloud. The two men, still clinging to consciousness as their blood leaked from their bodies, stared at you wide-eyed, stunned to hear a woman's voice.

You ignored them, pushing your hood off and rushing to Aegon as you lifted him upright. Other than his bloodied nose and a cut to his cheek, he was fine, albeit still a bit hungover. You hadn't realized how worried you had become as you watched the men from earlier beat him, your hands shaking as you stroked his greasy hair away from his face.

"Aegon," you said softly, the name feeling foreign on your tongue. "Are you alright?" You knew the question was asinine, he was not, but the sound of your racing heart inside your ears made you simple.

He groaned softly, still not quite back into reality as he lazily pushed your hand away. "My Prince, it is me," you paused, wiping the blood from his upper lip with your cloak. "It is your cousin." You said your name, his brows raising and glazed violet eyes opening.

"Little one," he spoke, his voice hoarse. "You are here?"

"Yes. I am here," you nodded, putting his dirtied hands on the sides of your face, attempting to ground him into the moment. All past animosity had left your mind, focusing solely on his face, more squared than you remembered.

"I have missed you, little one," Aegon said, his words slurring together. "I dreamed this day would come when you-"

Aegon's words were lost in the night air as someone yanked your long braid, pulling you to the ground. The man you had cut in the stomach flung himself over top of you, slamming your shoulders into the weathered stone streets, wrapping his slick hands around your throat.

You were stunned, momentarily caught off guard as he squeezed tighter, vengeance in his beady eyes. You blinked rapidly, collecting your thoughts as blood pooled on your face and air leaving your body.

The memories of your training surfaced in your mind, searching for any weak point you could use to free yourself. Luckily, all these men were idiots as you realized he had left your arms free.

You took the dagger Daemon had gifted you off your belt, shoving it into the man's side repeatedly, his blood spurting onto your hand and riding clothes. His grip loosened, and you brought your knee up, pushing him to the ground in the same position he had you, only wholly subdued.

He had no chance to beg for his life as you stabbed him in the chest, over and over and over again, until nothing but his body's subconscious twitches controlled him.

Aegon smiled as he watched you rise from the man's now mutilated corpse, your shoulders heaving as a warm feeling gathered in his chest. He reached out to you like a child asking their parent to carry them, and you accepted, saying something he did not hear as that feeling numbed his senses.

This was love, he thought as he noticed his attacker's blood splattered on your soft cheeks. The kisses and the touches of one special someone were love, yes, but not real love-- not true love. True love was death. It was the fear of loss and showing yourself raw and bare, even with the fear of rejection hammering at your insides. It was protecting the kin of someone who had hurt you in immeasurable ways.

Aegon was in love with you, he realized at that moment, as you shifted his weight onto your shoulder, using the opportunity to steal a whiff of your scent—lavender and dragon with a hint of smoke from your years on Dragonstone. You must have loved him, too, for not just anyone would kill three people for a single man.

***

It was an eternity before the Red Keep came into view, trying to picture the maps you studied of the layout as you helped Aegon's limp body up the hills. You had half a mind to drag him by his arms, uncaring if his porcelain skin was scratched with pebbles. Sacks of sand and grain were nothing compared to a full-grown man, and at this point, the fire that raged within you as you attacked those men was dwindling.

Aegon's loose leg caught on a stray rock, causing you and him to fall onto the stone street, his face buried in your chest. You huffed, attempting to push his enervated body off you with no success.

"Where are we going, little one," he asked, his violet eyes shining in the light of the street torches.

"Do not call me that," you grimaced, trying to roll him off again. "We are going home."

"Dragonstone? I have to say, dearest, that this is going to be a long haul for both of us. Why do we not just get some rest here, at the nearest inn," he questioned, tilting his head to one of the many buildings.

"No, not my home, you imbecile. Yours. Why would you ever think we would be going to Dragonstone," you said exasperated, unwedging your arm out from under him.

"I do not want to go there," he whined, sticking his lip out. "Let us just sleep at an inn," Aegon offered again, "I seem to recall a much enjoyable night spent between the two of us in one of these establishments."

A sound of disgust came from your throat, finally gaining enough strength to push him off. "Your skin is covered and dirt, your hair greasy, and you reek of piss. You are repulsive, Aegon, and I would rather be tarred and feathered for all of Kings Landing to see rather than spend one more moment with you."

Aegon's face contorted in hurt, his pink lips pouting as he stared at you with glassy eyes. His hair covered the sides of his square face looking years younger than he was—a heartbroken little boy in a man's body.

In his moments of need, you had forgotten the years worth of anger and resentment toward him and his family. Crucial aspects of your training were wiped from your mind when you saw his battered form. Your thoughts were only filled with heart-wrenching desperation as the blood dripped from his nose. He had made you weak, and that was something you would never allow yourself to be ever again.

"B-but..." he stammered, chin quivering, "I thought?"

"You thought wrong. The acts we committed as children were just that. It means nothing, meant nothing to me." The words spat like venom from your tongue, cutting Aegon to the quick. His eyes danced around the many alleyways, the thought of fleeing evident on his face. "Now, we only have a little longer on foot, and then we will arrive at the gates."

Aegon's feet shuffled as if to get comfortable, but you knew better. Judging by the letter the Queen had sent you, he was a flighty man, and you expected as much. You grabbed his arm before he could think, staring at his bedraggled face.

"And if you think of fleeing, know that I am not like the Kingsguard or the Watchman. There is not a whore house, cellar, or pub where I cannot find you. It would do you well to remember that." You yanked Aegon along with you, dragging him uphill toward the Red Keep, everything much easier this time. You were sure veins were protruding from your neck as you spoke to him, the area sore from where the man had attacked you.

He didn't fight. All thoughts of running were stopped and replaced with melancholy and defeat as bumbled behind you. Where had his little girl gone? Who had stolen your sweet words and gentle gestures, you had shown him not too long ago?

Aegon told himself this was not you. You were frustrated and angry with him for being cheeky when you were not in the mood. Most likely tired from the long ride from Dragonstone. That was why you lashed out, he reassured, not because you meant what you said. Mayhaps you have not remembered the tender moments you shared many years ago. Time and words from your father and mother could have contorted your memories into what you believed they were now. 

But in the end, he knew you were his, and buried deep down, rooted in the aspects of your soul you refused to avow, he was yours.

***

During the hour of the owl, you finally reached the front gate of the Keep. Aegon had completely sobered, seeming refreshed and ripe to begin a few hours of debauchery, but you, on the other hand, were not accustomed to forgoing hours of sleep.

You heard armor clanking as several guards appeared over the red stone wall, hands on their swords and spears.

"It is the Prince," one shouted as a stampede of metal footsteps echoed in the night, the large wooden gates opening.

A handful of guards went to you and Aegon, pausing momentarily as they finally noticed you. The silver accents on your clothes glinted in the moonlight, your braids loose from the hours of scouring the streets and hauling a certain princeling.

"Woman. Move from the Prince at once," a knight commanded as you glared at Aegon. "Wench! I command thee, move ten paces away from His Grace, or you will be moved."

Aegon refused to help you. For once, during this entire night, he kept his moronic mouth shut. Revenge for how you spoke to him earlier, you supposed. You looked at him in astoundment, your lip curling incredulously as you looked at the men. Indeed, they recognized you. You were not someone who could exactly be forgotten, the white streak in your hair.

"Cease!" A voice from behind the knights shouted. The guards moved out of his way, clearing a path for the man in pristine white armor. "This is the daughter of His Grace, Prince Daemon Targaryen! Have you men so semblance of intelligence to recognize the kin of the crown?"

You had to hide your shock as Ser Arryk Cargyll stood between you and the group of guards. His brother followed closely behind. He had grown further into the position of a Kingsguard. His light brown hair, you had remembered loose at his shoulder, was now slicked on the sides of his head into a knot, his beard longer with a slight curl to the collection of whiskers over his lip.

"Come, Princess," he said, gesturing with his hand, "I thank you for returning Prince Aegon without harm to the Red Keep. We will escort him to his chambers. I am certain the King and Queen will be pleased with both of your arrivals."

Aegon eyed Ser Ayyrk suspiciously. To everyone, even you, his words appeared respectful, but Aegon knew of the compassion Arryk extended to you during a vulnerable moment, soiling his love with the kind words of a simple knight.

"There is no need, Ser Arryk. I will return him," you replied, grabbing Aegon harshly on his upper arm. "I am expected an audience with the Queen upon my arrival with her son. Will you please alert her to my presence?"

"Yes, My Lady," he nodded curtly, his forearm over his breastplate as he turned.

You exhaled in relief once his back was turned, releasing Aegon's bicep, and rested your hands on your knees, preparing for what was to come. 

Master List of Series

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I was today years old when I realized I'd been writing Aegon's title wrong. Please, bear with me while I change everything that includes his name. Why is she so mean to him? :( Like our sweet baby boy did nothing wrong other than get Lyra and Sara killed. I hope she doesn't find out because judging how this first encounter went, I don't think she'll be very forgiving.

Tagged Peeps: @zeennnnnnn, @malfoytargaryen, @targaryencore, @justasmallbean, @alexandra-001, @omgsuperstarg, @sommornyte, @minttea07, @silverslive, @unclecrunkle, @prettykinkysoul, @duesobabe, @djlexi, @ynbutbetter, @honestlykat, @graykageyama, @legolas017, @iiamthehybrid, @brezzybfan, @dd122004dd, @ladybug0095, @millies0bsimp, @kalfild, @sheislonelyalways, @tempt-ress, @bellameshipper, @minttea07, @trikigirl271, @esposadomd, @buckylahey, @justarandomflowerchildofthenight, @partypoison00, @please-buckme, @pastelorangeskies, @joliettes, @existential-echo, @priyajoyy, @valaenatargaryensdragon, @merovingianprincess, @rachelnicolee, @candy12110, @w3ird11, @ruhjkie, @fatalewomen, @somemydayy, @ariana-dumbledore8, @marikkjj, @zillahvathek, @adelusionalwriter, @sunny-boy-06

BOLD MEANS IT WON'T LET ME TAG YOU

#aegon ii #prince aegon #aegon the second #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x you #aegon ii x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii angst #aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd aegon #ser arryk cargyll #ser erryk cargyll #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #tom glynn carney

[twistedintern]

Navigating Twst JP & JP-EN Term Listing (Updated)

Dorm & Character JP Name Abbreviation and Emoji Index

Heartslabyul > 🃏 ビュル Riddle Rosehearts > 🌹 リド Ace Trappola > ❤️ エー Deuce Spade > ♠️ デュ Trey Clover > ♣️ トレ Cater Diamond > ♦️ ケイ

Savanaclaw > 🏜️ サバナ Leona Kingscholar > 🦁 レオ Ruggie Bucchi > 🐆 / 🍩 ラギ Jack Howl > 🐺 ジャク

Octavinelle > 🐚 オクタ Azul Ashengrotto > 🐙 アズ Jade Leech > 🐬 ジェイ Floyd Leech > 🦈 フロ Tweels > イド

Scarabia > 🕌 / 🧞‍♂️ スカラ Kalim Al-Asim > 🦂 / ☀️ / 🦦 カリ Jamil Viper > 🐍 ジャミ

Pomefiore > 🍏 / 👸‍ ポメ Vil Schoenheit > 👑 ヴィ(ル) Rook Hunt > 🏹 ルク Epel Felmier > 🍎 エペ

Ignihyde > ⚙️ / 🔥 イグニ Idia Shroud > 💀 イデ Ortho Shroud > 🤖 オル

Diasomnia > 🐉 ディア Malleus Draconia > 🐲 マレ Lilia Vanrouge > 🦇 リリ Silver > ⚔️ シル Sebek Zigvolt > ⚡ セベ

Ramshackle > 👻 オンボロ Prefect > 🌸 / 🦐 / 🍊 (♀️/🚺 or ♂️/🚹 will sometimes follow) 監 / ユウ Enma Yuuken > 🦞 コミ監 Grim > 🐱 / 🐈‍⬛ グリ

NRC Staff > 🎓 / 🐦 NRC(の)職員 Dire Crowley > 🎭 クロ Divus Crewel > ⚗️ / 🐶 クル Mozus Trein > 📚 / 📖 モゼ Ashton Vargas > 💪‍‍ バル Sam > ☠️ / 🎩 サム Lucius > 🐾 ルチウス

Others Rollo > 🔔 ロロ Fellow > 🦊 フェロ Gidel > 🔨 ギデル Baul > 🐊 バウル Che’nya > 😺 チェーニャ Cheka > 🧶 チェカ Neige > ❄️ ネイジュ Ambrose > 🧙‍ ア ン Najma > 💫 ナジュ(マ) Marja > マルヤ Dylla > ディラ Kifaji > キファジ Maleanor > マレノア Ace’s older brother > 兄ッポラ Farena > ファレ

Glossary

The following list is in no way all-inclusive. I will do my utmost to update this section as the EN server progresses in story and translations become known.

(If I’ve overlooked anything, don’t hesitate to message me about it!)

Night Raven College

Mage Training Academy - “Wizarding Boarding School” (lit., no one uses this term, though)

Headmage - Headmaster

Housewarden - Dorm Head, Dorm Leader

Vice Housewarden - Vice Dorm Head, Vice Dorm Leader

History of Magic - Magic History

Flight - Flying

Freshman/Sophomore/Junior(/Senior) - First-/Second-/Third-(/Fourth-)Year

Potionology - Potions

Flora Element - Tree Element

Cosmic Element - Null Element

Objects and Activities

Thaumarks - Madol (Magic Dollars) There is no equivalent for “Sorcents” in the original canon, as Madol more closely converts to Japanese yen, whereas Thaumarks seem to reflect United States dollar values. The “cent” of Japanese currency (sen) has been obsolete for decades.

Blastcycles - Magicwheel

Spelldrive - Magift (Magic Shift)

Locations, Countries, and Regions

Queendom of Roses - Rose Kingdom

Shaftlands - Land of Pyroxene (Pyroxene)

Harveston - Village of Harvest

Sunset Savanna - Afterglow Savannah

Island of Woe - Island of Lamentation

Briar Valley - Valley of Thorns

Fleur City - City of Flowers

Event Names

Culinary Crucible - Master Chef

Beanfest - Happy Beans Day

Joint Exams - Unified Exams

The Phantom Bride - Ghost Marriage

Wish Upon A Star - Dance and Wishes

Camp Vargas - Vargas Camp

(A Twisted Halloween) Terror is Trending - (Scary Monsters) Screaming Halloween Show

(A Twisted Halloween) Spectral Soiree - (Scary Monsters) Endless Halloween Night

A Firelit Sky Over the Sands - Scalding Sands's Al'ab Nariya

Harveston's Sledathon - Harveston's Kelkkarotu

Twisted Tsumderland - Welcome to Tsumsted Wonderland

Fairy Gala Remix - Fairy Gala If

Limited Card Names

Apprentice Chef - Chef-in-Training

Suitor Suit - Groom-for-a-Day

Starry Robes - Star-sending Robes

Halloween - Scary Dress

Silk Adorned - Jasmine (Yasmina) Silk

Applepom - Apple Boa

Tsumsitter - Tsumsted

New Year's Attire - New Year's Yukata

Masquerade - Masquerade Dress

Birthday Boy - Birthday Suit-Up

Birthday Jacket - Union Birthday

Birthday Bloom - Bloom (Broom) Birthday

All club outfits - Club Wear

JP Monikers ~ Floyd

(Floyd uses specific suffixes depending on his perceived relationship with individuals–i.e., diminutive/pejorative/etc.)

MC = Shrimp (koebi) Grim = Seal (azarashi) Riddle = Goldfish (kingyo) Ace = Crab (kani) Deuce = Mackerel (saba) Trey = Sea Turtle (umigame) Cater = Sea Bass (hanadai) Leona = Sea Lion (todo) Ruggie = Remora (kobanzame) [changed in EN] Jack = Sea Urchin (uni) Kalim = Otter (rakko) Jamil = Sea Snake (umihebi) Vil = Beta Fish (beta) Rook = Seagull (umineko) Epel = Guppy (guppi) Idia = Firefly Squid (hotaruika) Ortho = Sea Angel (kurione) Malleus = Sea Slug (umiushi) Lilia = Flapjack Octopus (mentako) [changed in EN] Silver = Jellyfish (kurage) Sebek = Crocodile (wani)* Crowley = Manta Ray (manta) Crewel = Striped Beakfish (ishidai) Trein = Red Squid (akaika) Vargas = Lobster (robusutaa) Sam = Seahorse (umiuma) Fellow = Foxfish (kitsunebera) Gidel = Cat Shark (nekozame) *Leona also refers to him as a “crocodile”

JP Monikers ~ Rook

Rook uses a combination of Japanese, French, and English variously; I have attempted to render the names in the simplest manner possible. (Those with names I cannot find in-game at the time of posting are marked accordingly and will hopefully be updated in the future.)

MC = Trickster Grim = Monsieur Hirsute (Mister Shaggy) Riddle = Roi de Roses (King of Roses) Ace = Monsieur Heart (Mister Heart) Deuce = Monsieur Spade (Mister Spade) Trey = Chevalier de Roses (Rose Knight) Cater = Monsieur Magicam (Mister Magicam) Leona = Roi de Leon (King of Lions) Ruggie = Monsieur Tanpopo (Mister Dandelion) Jack = Monsieur Tough Guy (Mister Tough Guy) Azul = Roi d’Effort (King of Effort) Jade = Monsieur Mastermind^ (Mister Mastermind) Floyd = Monsieur Yukaihan (Mister Joyous Offender) Kalim = Roi d’Or (King of Gold) Jamil = Monsieur Multi (Mister Multi) Vil = Roi de Poison (King of Poison) Epel = Monsieur Himeringo (Mister Lady Apple) Idia = Roi de Ta Chambre (King of [Your] Room) Ortho = Monsieur Doll (Mister Doll), “Miracle Boy”^ Malleus = Roi de Dragon (King of Dragons) Lilia = Monsieur Curiosity^ (Mister Curiosity) Silver = Monsieur Sleepyhead^ (Mister Sleepyhead) Sebek = Monsieur Crocodile^ (Mister Crocodile) Sam = Monsieur Mysterious (Mister Mysterious) Rollo = Monsieur du Mouchoir (Mister Handkerchief)

Monikers ~ Other/General

・MC > Malleus ~ Hornton - Tsunotarou ・Malleus > Humans ~ Child of Man (hito no ko) ・Leona > Azul ~ Tako-yarou ・Leona > Idia ~ Kaiware daikon ・Leona > Humans ~ “Herbivore” >>> Additionally, Leona often tags -yarou onto names when speaking of people he doesn’t think highly of ・Vil > Sebek ~ “Cucumber” ・Sebek > Malleus ~ Young Master (waka-sama) ・Cheka > Leona ~ Unca’ Leona - (Leona-)ojitan ・Neige > Vil ~ Vi-kun ・Vil > a great many students his junior ~ “Potato” ・Crewel > Students ~ “Puppies” (koinu-domo) ・Rollo > Trein ~ “Professor Mozus” (Mozus-sensei) ・Sam > Customers/Students > Little Imp ~ lit. “Little Demon” (ko-oni) >>> Sam sometimes will add a descriptor to distinguish between “demons”–examples being Kalim’s kin no oni and Rook’s okappa oni

Unique Magic (Signature Spells)

Below is a comprehensive list of romanized furigana (that is, the intended/spoken) readings of Unique Magic names as they appear in the original Japanese version of the game.

Riddle Rosehearts - Off With Your Head Deuce Spade - Bet the Limit Cater Diamond - Split Card Trey Clover - Doodle Suit Leona Kingscholar - King’s Roar Jack Howl - Unleash the Beast Ruggie Bucchi - Laugh With Me Azul Ashengrotto - It’s A Deal Jade Leech - Shock The Heart Floyd Leech - Bind The Heart Kalim Al-Asim - Oasis Maker Jamil Viper - Snake Whisper Vil Schoenheit - Fairest One Of All Epel Felmier - Sleep Kiss Rook Hunt - I See You Idia Shroud - Gate To The Underworld Malleus Draconia - Fae of Maleficence Silver - Meet In A Dream Sebek Zigvolt - Living Bolt Lilia Vanrouge - Far Cry Cradle Rollo Flamme - Dark Fire Fellow Honest - Life is Fun

Other Notes

+ Che’nya’s full name is rendered differently between the EN and JP versions.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst reference #twisted wonderland jp #twst jp #twst spoilers

[ryin-silverfish]

LMK Fanfic: The Wild Son

AO3 Mirror

Nezha-centric one-shot. Or, "how the Third Lotus Prince learns to stop worrying and enjoy the exploration of death."

CW for suicide and extensive discussions of it. Similar to my previous story, this is very FSYY-inspired, which is shorthand for "pretty fucked-up".

Y'know, with the novel's version of Nezha's suicide being the most graphic and all.

...

The Devaraja of the North has a wild son, who bows not to his father, only the Buddha. The Buddha knows of his stubborn unreason, and sets upon his father's left hand, a pagoda.

——Su Zhe, "Nezha"

Over the years, he had really come to loathe That Look. 

You know, when these brats (technically, all mortals are kids to him) learned of his suicide and just gaped at him in wide-eyed horror. Usually followed by an "I'm so sorry" or "It's not your fault" or the slightly less grating "Man, your father sucks."

Duh, Dragonhorse Girl. Duh. But anyone who talked shit about Li Jing was in his good books, and he could at least appreciate Mei's straightforward nature.

Still, whatever prior impressions he left, he knew he was now seven years old and hurting again in their eyes, and would never stop being so. 

And it drove him nuts, because 1) it didn't even hurt all that much, and 2) why is offing yourself suddenly such a big deal? Apart from some ol' Confucian bores' rants about unfilial conduct, no participants in the War of Investiture had ever batted an eye at his death and resurrection; the problem was with what he did immediately afterward.

That said, death in the War of Investiture wasn't final, logical, or that big a deal either, until it suddenly was. 

...

Unlike killing, death didn't get less confusing even after you've kicked the bucket once. Nor was spending your time as a spooky ghost and getting your godhood rudely interrupted helpful, when it came to understanding the boundary between gods and ghosts, and how some people could come back but not the others.

Well, according to The Patricidal 7-years-old's Guide to Death and Deification:

People die when they get killed.

At which point they turn into a ghost, and float around going "Woe is meeeeee!" for a while before moving on to their next lives.

Unless they don't want to move on. In that case, they just haunt the living out of spite, and to get free stuff.

But wait! If enough people treat the ghost like a god and give them offerings, they'll become one and...dunno, make a new body outta faith or something. 

If someone's name is on The List, it's totally okay to kill them because they'll become gods after death.

Wait, isn't that dragon prince's name on The List too? Then why is his dad so angry when he killed him?

And sometimes, a Daoist master just pops a pill into the recently dead guy's mouth and they are alive again.

It took him a surprisingly long time to realize that The List was not all it's cracked up to be, and was basically the Poor Man's Godhood. Or that knowing someone would come back in the end didn't make their absence hurt any less. Or that they could come back, but would remain forever out of reach, shackled by the duties of godhood and the chains of causes and consequences. 

And even when a quick resurrection was possible, every death scarred the soul, making it fray and tear at the seams. Seven was the maximum. After dying and coming back seven times like poor Senior Uncle Jiang Ziya, not even The List could take your soul without it exploding into a billion little ghostfires that had more in common with ambience Qi than any living spirits.

He wondered if his inability to understand this fuss around offing yourself had something to do with a scar, too. 

But which one? Was it the first and most gruesome one, where returning your flesh and blood also meant ripping out the itty bitty pieces of souls that were embedded in them, clinging to your father and mother like muscle membranes on a bone? Was it the one that looked like an ugly crack on a gilded statue, widening, spreading, until it shattered altogether? Was it not a single scar, but a bunch of little holes in his essence, like wormbites on a leaf, or a pool of oozing sludge left by the Blood-melting Knife?

Assuming he still had a soul in the first place, of course. Maybe instead of a soul, there's only one huge patch of scar tissue where his three souls and seven spirits used to be, red and fibrous and angry. 

Yeah, try pulling *that* out of his body with a spell, suckers.

...

A popular god gains new domains like new year gifts. Namely, you seldom receive the ones you want, are stuck with the ones you were tired of, and have no idea where that pile over there even came from.

Sun Wukong shared a domain with him as the protector of youth, a fact he was strangely okay with. He took the silly and mischievous ones, while Nezha dealt with the moody, rebellious ones. An amicable arrangement, as far as dispute between overlapping domains went; were they ever to switch places, the result would be a disaster.

This, however, was when a joint operation would be really helpful.

Alas, he had no such luck. So here he was, sitting in the Megapolis Children's Hospital's inpatient ward, next to a girl with owl-like eyes and tubes inside her nose, who asked him "Being dead, what does that even mean?"

...

Nothing, 'cause it's something that happens to other people. That was how he would have answered this question, back when he was still a real kid, and not an 18-foot-tall immortal plant construct who could choose to look like a kid.

He did wish people would recognize him as something other than "god of youth", though. Or realize his older forms existed too. Somehow, when Jinzha's master appeared as a little boy with five hair buns, people didn't stop worshipping Old Dude Wenshu or Graceful Bodhisattva Wenshu, but one too many adaptations later, Nezha was just THE Kid God, and not also the Three-headed Six-armed War God of Setting Things On Fire. 

Bah.

But this was about Nezha the human (was he ever human, though, with the whole Spirit Pearl thing?) and Nezha the kid, not Nezha, Marshal of the Central Altar. Who didn't quite realize death was real, as in, a thing you should try to avoid for both yourself and others, and had been told that it was his destiny to dish out death to people in some epic upcoming war.

Master Taiyi, bless the old immortal, was a perfect case of someone who clearly cared so much, yet still managed to fuck up so badly.

For all his grudges against Jinzha's master (less about the whipping, and more about his damn cat killing the Jade Emperor), Wenshu made some good points: You did not tell a kid that you would protect him from all the consequences of his actions, then set him loose and expect him to not wreak havoc on unintended targets.

...

"What do you mean?"

He'd admit, this was not his finest hour. You weren't supposed to answer a question with a question, at least not in a way that didn't make you seem all mysterious and wise.

"I..." She trailed off. "I mean, I feel dead people all the time. Brushing past me, being all chilly and stuff. Since I'm gonna be joining you guys soon, I just wanna know...how it's like." The corner of her mouth twitched; either a grimace, or an attempt at smiling. "And you feel nicer than the others. Warmer, too."

He was no god of medicine, no matter how much he wished he could be one right now. Yet he could see the flames of her three souls, dimming with every passing second, as well as the blocks in her Qi flow, with one right behind her eyelids. Her sight was already gone, and in a week, these flames would go out entirely.

Sickness, he could heal, but not a passing ordained by the Book of Life and Death. As tempting as it was to pull a Sun Wukong, if he was to remove the name of one person, what was stopping him from removing another? And another? Before he knew, he'd be striking the name of every good person off it, and only chaos could result from that.

His gaze shifted to a small charm, fastened onto the bedframes with red strings. Made of peachwood, glowing gently in his vision, accompanied by the wisps of a prayer. Please watch over her, and take away her pain. Please don't let her face this alone.

Slowly, he extended a hand towards her, a tiny spark of pink flame dancing on his fingertip. If there were still ghosts in this room that hadn't fled when he first came in, they were definitely gone by now, as the darkness dispered in a surge of Yang-aligned Qi. 

"...Wow." She visibly relaxed, with a sigh. "Thanks." 

"No problem."

"Are you...also a kid, when you...you know? You sound like one."

"Yeah. But I've been dead for a long time. Long before this hospital was built." He let out a dry laugh. "I guess you could say I'm a professional at this whole 'death' thing."

"Huh. I thought after a while, people just...move on."

"They do, if they aren't trying to avoid the ghost cops. The Heibai Wuchang," he said. "Nowadays, they dress like cops too, but they show up for everyone, to take them to the Underworld. Not just bad ghosts that need to be arrested."

"What's the Underworld like?"

"Dunno. Never been down there." This was partially true. At the time of his death, the Underworld bureaucracy did not exist yet. Most of his knowledge of its workings came from chatting with Huang Tianhua, whose father was deified as the King of Mt.Tai, former head of the Ten Kings. "But you seem like a good egg, so they would send you straight to the Naihe Bridge, and onto your next life."

"That's...good to hear," she said. "I wanna know more about the, uh, ghost part, though. Does it stop hurting when you die? I've been...hurting for so long, I'm starting to forget what it's like, before...this."

"Yeah, the pain stops," he answered, "but so does everything else. You just stop feeling things altogether. Smell, touch, warm and cold and all that jazz." He paused. "Being a ghost is very, very boring."  

"And you still don't wanna go with the ghost cops?"

"Well, I killed myself, and that gets you stuck in the City of Wrongful Death." He blurted out, before realizing that this was the worse moment to be honest, and braced himself for the awkwardness to come. 

"Sounds like an awful place." 

"Pretty much. They said it was just full of depressed ghosts, being depressing together," he chuckled. "Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll pass."

"Glad I didn't...go through with it, then." She said, then quietly added, "I nearly did, when the pain got too much, and the cost just kept rising."    

Well, that wasn't quite what he expected. But he wasn't too surprised, either.

...

They thought his suicide was an act of despair. It was insulting, honestly. Both to the strength of his will and spite, and his unconventional problem solving skills.

See, when people said that your body and skin and hair were given to you by your parents, the implicit message was So you can't do anything to them, and They own you, every bit of you, and above all, Obey. 

You weren't supposed to give them back, not so flippantly. Yet it was the simplest, most obvious solution, in the same way beating up the dragon king who tried to sue you was. (Guess he really was Taiyi's student.)

At the heat of the moment, it was quite thrilling. Almost liberating. Like a snake shedding its skin, a baby bird breaking out of its eggshells. As the raging storm and roaring tides drowned out Fate and Destiny's ever-tolling bells, for a second, he really felt like this was the end. 

No more Spirit Pearl, no more unruly child, woe of his mother, doom of his lineage. No more Li Jing, no more questionable advices from Taiyi, no stupid dragon kings, and none of that Vanguard of the Zhou Army crap. Just a kid sacrificing himself, laughing and laughing until he chocked on his own blood. 

Just Nezha.

But obviously, things didn't end here. Death rarely was the true end, nor did it tie things up neatly, like cutting through a knot with a sword. It was more akin to what you got when you broke a lotus root in half, full of sticky, near-invisible threads, stretching on and on between the scattered pieces.

...

Believe it or not, this wasn't the first time he had to deal with suicide, kids, or suicidal kids. Especially after gaining one of his more recent domains. He is the protector of all young people, regardless of who they fancy or whether their bodies match their souls, it was just that those who didn't fit the common denominator tended to get a lot of shit for existing. 

(As annoying as the "Third Princess" nickname was, he had no problem with people finding strength and comfort in his legends, in severing ties, defying norms, and blossoming inside a changed body. After all, that was what gods were; a mirror that reflected the worshippers' beliefs and needs back at them.)

A few decades ago, he was summoned by a teen, standing on the bank of a river, holding a stick of incense. Dunno where, just that it was a Hokkien-speaking area and one of his temples was nearby. 

They gave him a hopeful look when he showed up, emerging out of the water like an actual lotus plant, yet remaining miraculously dry. As hopeful as someone in their circumstance could manage, at least.

"Is it okay if I ask you to curse my parents?" 

"If that's what you want, you are praying to the wrong god," he replied. "And the kind of gods who accept such requests will make you pay a price you are never ready for."

"Damn. Guess I'll just have to come back and haunt them myself, then." 

They knelt down to stick the incense into the mud, then started wading their way into the shallows. He sighed, and they were promptly dragged back by his red sash, struggling furiously.

"Let go of me!" They screamed, muddy water splashing beneath their sneakers. "W-Why? I don't get it! Why are YOU stopping me? You, of all gods! The child who hacked himself to pieces, and tried to kill his asshole dad——"

"And got a burning pagoda dropped on him for his troubles." He said flatly. "Need I remind you that it all took place a thousand years ago, and I'm no longer out for his blood?"

"Oh, so they'd beaten it out of you! Good for you, I guess." They snapped. "But not me. Why would you even care if a freak like me died or not?"

"gin-na, you just admit you are gonna become a vengeful spirit. And I literally have 'subduing demons and harmful spirits' in my job description. So maybe, maybe, I'm gonna have a problem with that?"

"Even if they totally have it coming?" They retorted. The first two buttons of their collars had come loose in the struggle, exposing the ugly patch of bruised purple around their neck, as well as implications of worse things. "I thought gods were all for karmic justice."

"Especially if they have it coming," he said. "Which is why I'm stopping you. It's not gonna work."

"What does that even mean?"

"Ugh. Look. Suppose I let you drown, without alerting any ghostly officials. Suppose that you come back, haunt your parents night and day, and don't get yourself exorcised. Suppose that you inflict on them the same torment you were subjected to, and drive them to madness or some other gruesome ends." He said. "Then what? What are you gonna do afterwards?"

"I'll just...move on, I guess."

"To do that, you 'll have to cross the Naihe Bridge. And the Underworld officials won't let you off the hook that easily, not after you've accumulated all this negative karma by haunting the living." He shook his head. "I heard they take 'Hell is other people' quite literally, and punish people who hated each other by throwing both parties into the same Minor Hell, giving them a pile of lethal weapons, and resurrecting whichever side that gets killed. Over and over again." 

He leaned closer. "Is that what you really want? Getting stuck in the same pit with your parents for centuries to come? Mind you, even if you get tired of the violence, you are not allowed to quit until the Underworld officials let you."

Came to think of it, that was the War of the Investiture in a nutshell. No one was allowed to quit, not even in death.

"...No," they mumbled, after a long silence. "But it's still tempting. At least I'll get to do something to them."

"Well, here's a thing you can do to them."

"What?"

"Live."

"That's it? Seriously?" They stared at him in disbelief. "Because I own it to them? Because my very existence is a mistake or something?"

"No. Because you own it to yourself," he said, "and it is only a mistake if you believe so, and if they think you are a mistake, there's no better way to prove them wrong and rub it in their faces than keep existing. Think of it like this——you ain't gonna help them get rid of you, are you?" 

"Well, if you put it that way..." they paused. "But I'll still be depriving them of their favorite punching bag, at least."

"Is that what you think you are?"

"It's what I have been for the past few years."

"Yeah, sorry, but hell no. You can be way, way more than that." He grinned. "Why be a punching bag, when you can be their worst nightmare instead?"

"I thought you don't want me to haunt my parents?"

"Oh, no. You are gonna drive them nuts in a whole different manner: by growing into a successful, well-adjusted adult they no longer have any power over," his grin widened, "And watch them age into bitter, miserable old farts who'll die alone and forgotten, knowing that the moment they die, they'll be dragged straight into one of the Hells in chains, suffer for untold eons, and probably spend their next life as ants."

"That is...satisfying, not gonna lie." They bit into their lips. "But until then, I'll still be stuck with them. Thanks for the reassurance, though."

"Does that mean if I let go of you now, you aren't gonna dash into the river?" 

Upon receiving a nod, he whistled, and his sash loosened around the teen, floating back onto his shoulders. They staggered back; he prepared himself, watching out for tensed muscles and all the little tells of someone who was going to make a run for it. Thankfully, he spotted none, as they retreaded their steps back onto dry land, one muddy footprint at a time.

He wasn't entirely convinced that they wouldn't change their mind later, but it was a good start.  And he had just the idea to make it an even better start. 

His fingers started twisting in a mudra, weaving together threads of pink and golden light into the shape of his signature seal. No, he definitely didn't enjoy the kid's quiet gasp of wonder, as a lotus-patterned token fell out of thin air and right into his hands. It wasn't like he was a show-off or anything, unlike that ape.

"Here. Take this. Go to—" He paused and cursed himself. Dammit, he kept forgetting that mortals couldn't just sense temples and their giant beacons of faith. "Do you know there's a temple over there?" He pointed east, "Like, in that direction?"

"You mean Taizi Gong? Yeah." They nodded. "Grandma used to take me there."

"If you ever need a meal, or a place to stay the night, just show this token to the staff, and they'll help you out." He narrowed his eyes, and said the next sentence very slowly. "Also, if your life is ever in serious danger, like, no-time-to-call-the-cops danger, just hold it tight, say my name, and point it at whatever is threatening you. Do. Not. Use. It. Lightly. Understood?"

He intentionally let out a bit of his killer aura, as he uttered the last few words. Not hard to muster, considering the circumstances that first drove him to develop this token system. It was always awful when he was too late in his interventions, but he swore to the Three Pure Ones, if anyone ever triggered the spell with a prank call, when he arrived at the scene, they'd wish they got caught in the explosions instead.

They paled and nodded in quick succession, then started to turn away. Before remembering something, and coming to a halt mid-step.

"I...I don't even know how to thank you." They shook their head. "If it was too early for that. If 'Thanks' is even enough. But if you are right and I do find my way out of this mess, I'm building you a temple, Third Prince."

...

A temple. Build me a temple, mother. Build me a temple, mother, for I'm cold without a body, hungry without a stomach. He remembered himself crying out, once. Build me a temple so I can be back at your side again, isn't that what you want? What you said you would give up everything for, as you picked up my pieces and buried them in a shallow grave?

Build me a temple, or you'll never know peace again. 

The most frustrating part wasn't how much he sounded like the sorts of ghosts he'd beat up later, a lot, as Marshal of the Central Altar. It was the lack of context. As in, there was no memory of the before and after. Just words echoing in a vaccum, with neither pain nor sensations attached.

It was the same whenever he helped a mortal. It was the feeling he got when, twenty years later, he stood in front of a temple gate, watching the person in a suit cut the red ribbons during its opening ceremony, and thought, I've done something like this before, long ago, inside my first temple.

But I can't remember what it was, or for whom.

He knew that was how ghosts became gods. Three souls attracted by the fragrance of incense, seven spirits nourished by the ashes of burnt offerings. Ten shades of a person, molded back together into something more than the sum of its parts, by countless mud-stained, callused hands, clasped together in prayer.

He'd watched it happen before, on the coasts of Fujian. Little Lin Mo Niang, disappearing beneath the waves, only to rise out of the tides later as Mazu, guiding fisherfolks and sailors to shore with her gentle red light, just like she did in life.

Or maybe he had more in common with Guan Yu. The fugitive, the warrior with the might of a thousand man, the loyal companion. Who, despite his promise in the peach garden, did not die on the same day as his sworn brothers. Specifically, how his vengeance and fury used to hang over Jingzhou like a plague, how his name was once whispered in fear, before it became the synonym of loyalty, brotherhood and martial virtue.

Perhaps ghosts became gods when mortals poured pieces of themselves into them, filling up the holes in their psyche. Making them more human than they ever were, and could be.

Thanks to Li Jing's destruction of his idol, he'd never know. 

That——that was what sent him onto his roaring rampage of revenge, right after reviving in his lotus body. After everything else had been bled dry, rage was all he had. Like thick black tar, sticking to the bottom of a broken jar.

...

"What stopped you?" He asked, without really knowing why.

"My legs. Literally. They don't work anymore. And I'm...gonna die anyways, it's not really worth the effort..." Her breath hitched in her throat, yet she still managed to squeeze out the last few words, "Then my mom came back."

"I...I'm still a little mad that she left in the first place, like, long before this. But she had a nice singing voice, when she wasn't crying, and," she sighed, "didn't start arguing with dad again. She said I had a new little brother, and showed me the photos...and I was just like, hey, he looks like a raisin, and they laughed, and I haven't heard either of them laugh in a long, long time..."

She was starting to look dazed, stuck in that liminal space between dream and awakeness.

"And I, I wouldn't mind hurting a lil' longer, if it means I get to have more moments like that." 

What if you don't? A part of him wanted to ask. What if those moments are no more than baits on a straight hook, carrots on a stick, making it so that you are willing to hurt longer and longer until it's not even fleeting happiness you seek, just the mere promise of release?

But that was the bitterest, crueler part, and it could fuck right off.

"I'm sure they are glad to have you, too." In the end, that was all he managed to say, in a whisper she might or might not have heard, and only got a small yawn in return.

"Well, you sound like you're about to doze off. So I won't keep you up any longer," he said. "Any last questions, before I go?"

"What do you...look like?"

"Huh?"

"When I die, I'll get to...see things again, right?" She asked. "And you can't be the only kid here. Just...wanna...go over and say hello, before the ghost cops come." 

"Oh, I'm very recognizable. You don't see a lot of folks with twin hair buns nowadays." He laughed softly. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll be right here, inside this very room."

"Thanks," she nodded. "G-G'night, ghost friend."

"Farewell, and sleep tight."

...

When did you stop being fun? Sun Wukong asked him, once.

When you started being nothing but jokes, he wanted to scream back. When you shut yourself in your cave for five hundred years to take a depression nap, while I drain just as much power answering the prayers of mortals as I get from their worship, and my true body is stuck guarding the fire that burn away worlds. When Yang Jian had stopped giving a crap about everything that happened outside of his precious Sichuan, me included.

When I grow the fuck up, monkey. We all do, sooner or later, yet you never seem to.

But then he remembered the look on Sun Wukong's face, as the mountain came down. A look he had seen on the faces of so many souls, as they were called up the Terrace of the Investiture. 

It was Ao Guang clutching onto his son's tendons with trembling, scaly hands. It was his mother kneeling in the dirt, begging for his life and unlife. It was him handing Huang Tianhua's head back to Huang Feihu. The eldest of Zhao Gongming's three sisters, muttering a quiet "Sorry, brother" before she was swept away by Lao Tzu's scroll. Guang Chengzi looking Yin Jiao in the eyes, as they dragged his plow up the hill. 

It was a monk postponing his Buddhahood in favor of the path of the Bodhisattva, swearing a vow that, for every life, he should learn the meaning of compassion anew, and teach it to others.

A pig who was once a marshal, too weighed down by his desires to attain enlightenment, who nonetheless went on to live a good life, full of good food and few regrets.

A soldier made into a monster after one simple mistake, who decided he was better than that, and, with quiet determination, followed his brother and master into samsara as their guardian.

It was a white dragon, destined to set things aflame and be consumed by flames, yet burning brightly all the same, a goofy grin on his face.

So he just gritted his teeth and kept on fighting. It was what he was made for, what he always did.

And it wasn't enough. 

...

But when was anything ever enough? When did Fate or Destiny ever pat anyone on the head, and tell them they did a good job, and they'd be free of suffering, just like that?

When were there ever easy answers, for mortals and gods alike?

Azure Lion thought there would be one, that the right person on the throne could magically make it all better, and he shattered trying to make himself into that person.

One step at a time. One answer at a time. A promise kept, a visit made. That was how you do it. 

After all, the great lump of molten colors Nüwa used to seal the cracks in the sky——they were but little pebbles too, once upon a time.

...

"Told you I'll be here." That was the first thing he said, as he unsummoned his wheels and sat down in midair, cross-legged.

"Oh. Well. I," The translucent girl let out a small laugh. She tried to scratch her head, before realizing she couldn't anymore. "I certainly wasn't imagining this, when you said 'twin hair buns'." 

"Do you have reasons to, though?" He asked. "People usually don't see the Third Lotus Prince on their deathbeds."

"No. But it's pretty obvious in hindsight, with the warmth and all these little hints." She shook her head. "Dangit. Now I just feel kinda dumb. Still, it's good to see you again, sir...Third Prince?"

"Nezha would do. I suppose I make much better company than the ghost cops, right?"

Behind the hospital screen, the man wearing a tall black hat grumbled something about people not appreciating their jobs, before being cut off by a "Ha! Checkmate, Lao Fan!"

"Yeah. It's a little distracting when you were dying, and two guys were just having a chess game five feet away," she said. "The cheerful one is a better player, though."

"Only because you keep giving him tips!" The man snarked back. "How does it feel like to cheat via a dying kid, Xiao Xie? I bet you feel real proud of yourself right now."

"How does it feel like to lose to a dying kid?" His colleague laughed, sticking his tongue out way further than any living humans were capable of, or comfortable with. "She gave you tips too, you just aren't good enough to use them well. And she's good. Real good. This one thinks she may just be a chess champion in her next life!"

"Thank you, Mister Xie. I learned it from my grandpa."

It was such a blessing that these two didn't exist yet, at the time of his death. As grim and thankless as their duties were, Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiu were also the most annoying pair of ghosts he ever met, the former taking nothing seriously and the latter taking everything way too seriously.

"Hey. You two, shut up and show some respect." He snapped, before turning to the girl. "I'm sorry you have to endure their presence."

"That's right, Xiao Xie! Even the Third Lotus Prince tires of you and your constant jesting!"

"This one thinks if we pay our proper respect to everyone that has ever died, we'll have no time to actually do our job." Xie chuckled. "Besides, he is clearly talking about the one who is constantly yelling, and incapable of losing gracefully. But alright, this one shall do as you command."

"...Let's go talk somewhere else." He sighed. "These two clowns are giving me a headache."

She giggled a little, as the screen parted with a wave of his hand, revealing the two psychopomps sitting on the nearby bed. "Their hats do look like clown hats."

"The clowns can hear you, you know?" Fan snarked, before picking up his baton and making a gesture in their direction. "Whatever. Begone. And remember our deal: you have four hours. Not a second more, not a second less. Understood?"

"Did you just admit to being a clown too?" Xie grinned. "This one does think a red nose will suit you well."

"Sometimes I seriously wonder why I ever agreed to become your sworn brother, Xiao Xie."

He led the girl out of the room, just as medical personnels started coming in, carefully concealing his presence from the mortals' eyes. The girl made a face when her hand passed through the doorframe, but quickly recovered.

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere you like." He replied. "Your home, your old school, that really cool arcade or amusement park you never get a chance to visit...and you don't have to choose one. Distance is not a factor at all," with a blaze of pink fire, his wheels were back under his boots again, "when I'm the god of speedy drivers. So take your time."

"Hmmm. I think," she said, after a long silence, "I wanna go see my mom, and my little brother first. Is that okay?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Let's be on our way, then." 

"Alright. Leeeego!"

#lego monkie kid #lmk fanfiction #nezha #lmk nezha #journey to the west #investiture of the gods

[still-with-koo]

The Campaign | JJK

Series: Teaser

summary: in a dystopian world much like the hunger games, you decide to join a treacherous tournament to pull your family out of poverty, thinking the horror stories are made up. but it turns out monsters are real and they aren’t hiding under your bed.

Series master list.

pairing: jungkook x reader

wc: 501 (teaser); tbd (series)

genre/warnings/rating: 18+; dystopian au; supernatural au; angst; some fluff; enemies to still enemies, maybe frenemies; enemies to lovers; swearing; descriptions/ mentions of violence; graphic descriptions of gore, violence and pain; reader is in life or death situation; heavy mentions of death and dying; minor character death/s; mentions of mental illness and physical illness; mentions of physical deformities; references to physical and emotional abuse; imbalances in power; heavy mentions of weapons like knives and swords; some (poor) attempts at humour; the characters in this story are my own and do not reflect on the members of bts or anyone else. this is all made up and just for fun, please don’t take it too seriously!

playlist: relentless by lost stars

a/n: i had the strangest dream where i was fighting a giant and it kinda snowballed into this. took some inspiration from the hunger games & divergent as well as greek mythology bc i really love the song of achilles & circe.

taglist: (let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

Onlookers stop and crowd around as you struggle against the armed men’s grasp.

“Stop! I’m here for The Campaign!”

Your words are drowned out in the rumble of the crowd as more onlookers gather around. 

A voice booms behind the crowd and it falls silent.

“Who dares disrupt the peace?”

You continue to struggle in the men’s grasp as the crowd parts down the middle.

A very large man emerges between them. His beard is long and white, his face full and round. He has a cloak of gold and boots of silver.

The armed men start to speak, one letting go to provide the hulking man a warrant for your arrest. “Mayor Danaus, we will take away this Unauthorized and leave your tournament to begin without delay. Here is the warrant.”

Mayor Danaus.

The leader of the City. The one who is responsible for your family’s woes, the one who seeks to bring children of poor families to The Harvest where they will waste away for the benefit of the City. 

Cold seeps deeper into your bones and you stop struggling, instead letting your knees sag as you contemplate what they will now do to you. 

“Enough,” Danaus says, raising one hand in the air. The City men stop speaking. “Rise to your feet, Unauthorized. Why are you here?”

As the hands around your arms loosen, you drop to the ground with a thud. Eyes blinking open, you place one unsteady hand on the wet soil before rising to your feet. 

Your voice squeaks out a lot quieter than you’d hoped as you struggle to push words out through your parched throat. “I.. I am here to join the Campaign.”

When you look up at the large man, a gleam catches your eyes. There is someone behind him that sparkles brighter than all the chaos around you.

You blink again, wondering if you are simply imagining things, a mere hallucination like that hovering lady must have been. 

“Funny child, do you wish to die?”

“I am not a child.” Those words bounce out a lot more easily.

His laugh bellows out unexpectedly and with it, more laughter joins in chorus. It’s raucous.

You wish to put your hands over your ears, but instead you focus on the wet cloth sticking to your skin. It is much too loud in your head anyways.  

“Alright, not a child, I will consider letting you join if you answer one question,” Danaus says, and you look up at him, watching his chubby cheeks peek out from beneath his beard. “What will you do with the prize money if you survive?”

Laughter breaks out once again, as if such an outcome is so unlikely to obviously be some kind of cruel joke. A mere mortal like you could never even hope to survive.

He, however, eyes you very closely. 

Inhaling deeply, you look Danaus in the coal of his irises, defiance budding in your chest.

“I will make sure you and your men can never harm my family again.”

what did you think? any thoughts would make me infinitely happy. and if you want to be tagged, just send me an ask :)

#jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #supernatural au #dystopia au #lilo fics #teaser #the campaign

[nahoney22]

OMG HI! 🤩 Are you taking writing commissions?! Can I be added to a commission waiting list if you have one for a soft-pining between Plo-Koon and a Jedi!Reader? I’m talking like fluffiest fluff you can muster! Maybe them being like parents to their battalions! The forbidden attraction because of old Jedi rules 🥺

P.S: You are so right! None of this bs wouldn’t have happed if he didn’t bite the dust 😭

Forbidden

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Plo Koon X GN!JediReader

word count: 2.6k

Both being the greatest Jedi they can be to their Battalion, it’s no surprise that the kindness shared between you both brings you closer and maybe just maybe, makes things a little risky.

warnings: none, fluff! Minor mention of injury & death to Clones, forbidden romance trope, mutual pining. Ngl, not overly proud of this as I feel it’s a little rushed and messy. It was better in my head. I’m losing my touch.

Masterlist

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

The Medbay was often a horrible place for any person or sentient to visit and no matter how many visits General Plo attends, it is never any easier.

The last mission was a success but with so many casualties. His respect for his Battalion grows each passing second and has come to care about each man individually but at what cost? Another win yet it seemed like they were no step closer to beating the Separatist threat.

“I am here for CC-3636.” Plo speaks to one of the droids that maintained care for those who were taken in, hating using his Commander's designated number rather than his preferred name.

“Right this way. His condition is stable.”

Plo stays silent, walking down the painfully white halls of the Kaminoan facility towards one of the bays. Though deep in his thoughts, something stops him.

As if something had shoved on his chest and commanded him to stop, his head turned to look into an empty room. Well, aside from two beings in the right hand corner.

There’s a clone on the bed, no colour to their armor aside from the stark white and shiny new armor and a presence beside them. Their back was to him but he was certain that they were Jedi. That Jedi being you, someone who he still has not been formally introduced to though he had heard things. Many great things in fact.

Slowly, he turns and looks into a room opposite, busier than the others but still no other Jedi present. If he were to hazard a guess, he would confirm that the only two Jedi here were just the pair of you. All these men injured, yet it seemed that only you two had cared.

He sighs to himself, knowing he should not think ill of the other Jedi as he was well aware that most have care for their troops but clearly, maybe just not as much as him and yourself.

“Just this way Master Jedi.” The AZI droid speaks up, snapping Plo out of his doubting thoughts and proceeds to move on along. But as he leaves, you look over your shoulder and feel a shift in the Force. A Jedi was present and although curious to who it could be, you focus on your trooper and wait for him to wake up.

———-

“Anakin is growing stronger and courageous each day though I fear there is conflict within him.” Obi-Wan speaks softly as he walks alongside Plo.

The Kel Dor sensed his friend and colleagues troubles and opted to walk with him and try to clear his mind. “Your padawan is headstrong and a fine Jedi. Little Soka is becoming the ideal Jedi too because of him. Trust in him Obi-Wan and soon you will see everything will play out smoothly.”

Walking out into the courtyard, conversation changing to something more cheerful rather than Obi-Wan’s worrying woes, the two of them took in the calming air.

“Ah, look who is over there.” Kenobi points to the center of the courtyard, over by The Great Tree.

Plo looks in the direction and as if by an instant, he recognised you to be the Jedi on Kamino a few rotations ago. Your robes were breezing around your body, a content expression on your face.

“You haven’t met them yet, have you?” Kenobi asks, already getting ready to walk on over but like before, something pushed against him and his feet find their way walking over to you.

“No.” He answered him.

“Well, let me introduce you.”

Kenobi says your name aloud, catching your attention and as you turn, there’s a strange feeling in the Kel Dor’s stomach. He had not expected you to appear so youthful as you appeared wise beyond your years.

“General, what do I owe the pleasure?” You smile warmly to your friend, eyes flickering between the human male and then to Kel Dor beside him.

“Nothing at all, just thought I would introduce you to Master Plo Koon. I don’t think you two have worked together.”

When you look at him your eyes are full of intrigue and interest as you bore into the mask on his face. “No, I don’t believe we have.” You take a step closer and extend a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

His hands or talons so to speak, reach out to you and gently clutches at the softness of your skin. His touch is surprisingly warm and enough to send chills down your arms but luckily, your robes hid the bumps. When he says your name you feel an odd sensation. A sensation as if you would want him to repeat it over and over again.

“And you. I see you find calmness in The Great Tree?” He pulls his arm back, digits leaving yours and you try to ignore how cold you suddenly felt. What was happening? Were you feeling unwell? You push the thoughts back for the time being and focus back on his question.

“Yes, I find it beautiful.” You say softly, turning to look at the leaves that bristled in the soft wind. “We’re definitely lucky to have one in our midst due to its rarity.”

There was something about you that Plo was fascinated by. Your voice was a soft and calming presence and there seemed to be no heavy grief on your shoulders. He was internally thankful that Kenobi had parted ways with you both and took the opportunity to get to know you more.

Respectfully, he had asked of your homeworld and family and listened with great interest at whatever you had to say. You also made sure to include him too and would ask questions about how the war is fairing for him and if he had any worries which reminded him:

“If you recall, I remember seeing you on Kamino though I didn’t make myself known.” He begins to walk alongside you and as you take small and slow steps, his large ones go down to a minimum.

At least the question in your mind of which Jedi had seen you that day was answered and a small smile crept onto your lips. “I thought I felt a spectre close by. You have a very warm presence in the Force.” Although you spoke calmly, there was no denying that there was a small hesitance in your mind and sincerely hoped you had not said anything too outrageous after just meeting him.

“That is kind of you to say.” He nods, genuinely appreciating your gentle words. “I hope that trooper you were seeing made a full recovery?”

“Oh yes,” you smile softly “Jammy, as I so named him, has made a speedy recovery. He got badly wounded on our last mission and I really thought he wouldn’t make it out this time.”

“This time?”

You roll your eyes a little playfully. “Hence the name. He’s been in that Medbay more times than I can count. He’s a lucky one.”

Plo smiles, noticing how affectionate you are when it comes to talking about the Clones. It was a nice relief to see one having respect for them after all they do for the GAR. It was rather refreshing.

“Who were you going to see?” You turn your head to look up at him. He chuckles softly and tells you about Wolffe, a trust Commander and the name just so happens to ring a bell.

“Wolffe,” you repeat his name, pausing, “I don’t suppose he is the Commander of the 104th? Making you their General?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” He stops with you and you find yourself blushing as you notice just how close he stood beside you, slowly moving to stand in front.

“I believe that I am joining you and your entourage in the next following days, on Aleen?” You ask hopefully and that strange sudden hope that you had was a little dangerous.

He hums a small chuckle but shakes his head. “Not me, but I’m sure my men will be a great addition in my absence.”

You tried to not look disappointed but the way he tilts his head at you makes you think that maybe he knew. “I’ll be happy to work with them, General.”

“Please,” he says softly and with enough grace places a hand to your shoulder, “call me Plo.”

————-

The relationship you had with Plo only grew from then on. Coincidentally (or not) the two of you would often find yourselves walking the halls of the Temple together but there was something not quite right.

Just now, your conversation with Plo was innocent and had you both laughing but as you passed a small group of maybe three members of the order, they were eyeing you both up suspiciously. At first you thought nothing of it but the stares lingered and then whispers would begin. You wondered if Plo had seen it too but for now, he said nothing.

When he walked you to your room, there was a small moment just outside your door. You were wishing him a restful sleep but the Kel Dor, almost unnaturally reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair away from your face. Your eyes widen, a blush creeping up your neck and you thank him quietly. He smiles a little and nods his head. “Sleep well, little one.”

The nickname was new and Maker it made you feel airy and light.

A week or two had passed and your heart that had been so full was heavy. You were back on Kamino and your chest tightened as you watched the AZI droids cover not one, not two but at least seven of your men with white sheets. The mission, although successful, left a sour taste in your mouth as you stayed in the Medbay, overlooking your fallen troops.

When the door behind you hissed open however, just by the thought of being with someone who you knew to be Plo, your emotions took over. You raised a hand to your face and quickly swept away a stray tear, turning to face your friend.

“Afternoon Plo.”

Although you could not see it, there is grief behind the mask as he crosses the threshold to you. “Come, little one… let us find somewhere else to talk.”

The nickname would have been lovely if not for the environment but alas you listened and followed after him with your head bowed. For the first time in a while, you both walked in silence until he found a quiet room for you both to sit in.

He gestures to a spot beside him and as you sit, you let out a heavy sigh.

“Your thoughts are wild and understandably so. Is there anything I can do to give you comfort?” His modulated voice was soft and gentle, just like the man he was. You knew that he knows just how hard losing men can be and it never gets any easier. For you, you make bonds with your men. Attachments so to speak, something forbidden within the Order. The thought of being careless to them made you angry and you knew some Jedi would not bat an eyelid. So as your fists tighten by your sides, there is no surprise that Plo had gently taken one of your hands and whispered, “At ease, they wouldn’t want to see you upset.”

That afternoon, you didn’t say much but you didn’t need to. Plo stayed by your side and as you felt yourself getting weary, he had let you rest upon his shoulder, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Another week passed and another week of your feelings being a mangled mess. It was clear now that feelings had started to bloom between yourself and Plo. On your part, anyway. There is conflict within you and something tells you to back away and get a hold of yourself but that was a little impossible to do when your men had made jokey passing comments to you.

“What was that Trooper?” You turn to him with an amused gleam in your eyes, glad to see how at ease they were with you when he replies if you’re thinking about going to see the ‘Wolfpacks dad’. You snorted, dismissing him playfully but there was something in the back of your mind that was tickling your senses. Was it obvious to them that there was something there? Is that why the Jedi had been keeping a watchful eye on you both. Surely if they knew, Plo would know. This piques your curiosity even more.

That evening, you had decided to stay away from Plo purely because you did not understand these feelings yourself yet. Though, naturally, you both found yourselves in each other’s company.

You’re along one of the balconies back in the Temple when Plo had arrived.

“I didn’t think you would be here.” His voice made you jump a little, your mind so deep in force you didn’t even sense his overpowering presence.

“And why is that?” You poke at his thoughts as he stands beside you, overlooking the city below.

“This is where I often come to ponder my thoughts - something I find myself doing a lot more lately.”

Your body gets tingly at his words, heart racing a little faster. This could either be a good thing, a bad thing, or both. “Something on your mind?”

He stays silent for a few moments, his thoughts conflicted for the first time in a while. He was often quick, wise and brave but he felt the opposite now. Especially with you by his side.

“It is more someone than it is something.”

There it was. You just knew it was about you, or so you certainly had hoped unless he has someone else in his life he has kept quiet about. Words can not even string together but luckily, he does the talking. “My men, they like to talk shall we say about our relationship.”

You freeze. Relationship? Was there even one aside from friendship? “I see.”

Plo looks down at the railing, seeing your hands nervously strum along it and hoping he had read the last few rotations correctly, he quietly placed his hand over yours, talons very gently caressing into your warm skin. “Is this okay little one?” He whispers in your ear and you shudder a small gasp before nodding.

“Plo, what if someone sees us?”

“I must admit I am point the past of caring. I can not help who I admire, and that is you little one.” Plo is watching you carefully but when a small smile flicks onto your lips and your turn to face him, you carefully rest your hand upon his.

“Me too,” you sigh softly, “but I fear this may impact our place in the Order.”

Gently, his other hand comes down to your waist and turns you to face him fully. His hand leaves yours and places it to the side of your face as he looks adoringly into your eyes. “Like I said, I am past the point of caring. I can not stand to believe that we are to shut ourselves out of anything and not be deemed as a Jedi. I trust you feel the same?”

Without hesitation, you fall into his chest. Arms wrapping around his lean and tall frame, Plo wastes no time in reciprocating the gesture. “Of course I feel the same Plo… ever since I met you I could not help but-.”

“Fall for one another.” He finishes off for the both of you.

You’re both elated, glad that the mutual feelings were out in the open but for what is to happen next is uncertain. But what you both did know is that you would both pick one another over any stupid rule. Together, you will treat your own men with the love and dignity they deserve and if yours has to be a secret, so be it.

As long as you’re with him.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Masterlist

tags: @s1st3r @buddee @taskfork-archive @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @adriiibell @theroguesully @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @alexandrisonfire @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo o @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @mylifeinthetardisforever @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @agenteliix

#plo koon #plo koon x reader #Plo koon x you #the bad batch #star wars #clone wars #nahoney22 writes

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: The Law of Surprise (2/3)

Summary: The Law of Surprise: a custom as old as humanity itself. The Law dictates that a man saved by another is expected to offer to his savior a boon whose nature is unknown to one or both parties. In most cases, the boon takes the form of the saved man's firstborn child, conceived or born without the father's knowledge.

A/N: This is NOT a Witcher AU. The idea for this fic WAS inspired by the show, however. I’m not sure if the Law of Surprise was a show/game creation or if it existed before. Regardless, this fic is my spin on the concept and will be posted in three parts.

Much love and thanks to the @cssns mods for keeping this event going year after year! A HUGE shout out to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the AMAZING pieces she made to accompany my fic. Go give her ALL the flails! Finally, all the hot chocolate, rum, and grilled cheese sandwiches for my amazing betas @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4. LOVE YOU LADIES TO BITS!

Rated T (for now) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One

Part Two

Ten years later…

Hook trudged his way through the Neverland jungle, the humidity dampening the ends of his hair - long overdue for a barber’s hand - and collecting along the bones of his collar and the hollow of his throat. He grumbled beneath his breath as he sidestepped booby traps left by the Lost Boys. Most of them had probably been forgotten and left abandoned when the miscreants’ whims had shifted from whatever depraved game they’d been playing to some new nefarious venture.

During his decade of service, Hook had been tasked a dozen times or more to ferry boys from the accursed realm where Pleasure Island existed. An island that lured boys to their doom with promises of wild frivolity, their fate sealed when they found themselves aboard the Jolly Roger, never to be seen or heard from again once they set foot on the new island of hellish delights. Most didn’t seem to mind, giving themselves over to the feral, lawless ways of the island, following in Pan’s deviant footsteps. Others, however… Well, Hook did not make it a habit of spending time thinking of the others, or their nightly woes that were carried to him by the vindictive Neverland winds as he attempted to find some measure of peace on his ship. Besides, after tonight, he would never have to endure those sobs, or the whoops and war cries, or the perils of the island, or the dangers of its master ever again.

After tonight, he’d be leaving the island of nightmares behind him for good. Too bad the same could not be said of the nightmarish reputation his years of service had crafted.

Pirate. Villain. Void of pity or compassion. Callous. Heartless. Merciless. Barbarous. Cruel.

These were the words he’d seen splashed across countless wanted posters, all demanding his capture - dead or alive - with bounties that had increased exponentially over the years. Posters and decrees that hung in every port, every tavern, displayed on every ship he’d waylaid, and carried in the pockets of every officer or crewmen he’d crossed blades with. Even those from a kingdom in which he’d never committed his crimes. A kingdom he had avoided at all costs, hoping that when his time was up he might still find himself a safe harbour upon her shores of refuge; a place he still might belong, despite his dastardly deeds and fearsome reputation.

Misthaven. His adopted homeland. A place to which he had sworn vows of fealty and devotion, not simply to its sovereigns, but the kingdom as a whole. He had done all he could to maintain his oath, even to the point of waging his own war in allyship as he fulfilled Pan’s ruthless commands by targeting King George’s ships and cargos, even if easier pickings had been available to him, protected by the Misthavian coat-of-arms.

The deck of the Jolly Roger had been bathed in the blood of King George’s men numerous times over the course of the war, which had waged on for the better part of these ten years. It was only in these last few months that peace had finally been achieved. Some sort of deal struck with a sorcerer who ruled a far off kingdom, his dark magic laying waste to George’s forces and ending the king’s reign in, what Hook had been told was, a resounding display of brutality that rivaled his own.

Though he shuddered to think of the deal his sovereigns had willingly made with a madman of such dark proclivities, Hook understood the necessity of desperate measures during such desperate times when those you loved and served were on the brink of death and destruction. Who was he to judge them? They had done what they felt they must in order to safeguard their people. A task made more complex by the fact that the entire conflict had begun with the atrocity of robbing Queen Snow of the ability to conceive an heir. Without a progeny to pass the throne to, Misthaven could have found itself under George’s rule had anything happened to Their Majesties. Hook knew they could not risk their subjects’ futures to such a fate, though he did wonder what the future held for a kingdom with no heir.

He supposed he’d find out for himself once he returned. Assuming he was not killed on sight when he made berth, feeling relatively certain, given the bounty King David himself had set upon his head, that neither his sovereigns nor his brother knew of his true identity. He did not relish the idea of revealing that truth, and could only pray he would find pardon once their shock and disgust subsided. That is… if he even found the courage to return at all.

There was no use denying that he’d considered, on many occasions, leaving the island and sailing as far from the realm as he could. Starting anew in some foreign destination where the names Killian Jones and Captain Hook held no meaning. He could not do that to Liam, though. Could not leave his brother to wonder after his fate, or worse, come looking for him on the island of nightmares where last they saw one another. Plus, he’d made a vow to honor his accords so long as they were honored in kind. He owed it to his sovereigns to return. If the king and queen chose to sever the ties that bound them, by both his oath and the unfilled Law of Surprise, then so be it, but he would not break his oath, not when he’d gone to such lengths to preserve it.

Skull Rock held the same oppressive and imposing heaviness it always did as he marched up the damp stone steps, each bootfall echoing the dread that pounded in his chest. Every time he’d presented himself here, Hook wondered how much more of himself he’d lose while implementing Pan’s bidding. This time was different, though. This time there would be no bidding. No demands. No nefarious schemes or dark dealings. This time, he was being summoned because their deal had finally come to an end. Ten long years of torment would be fulfilled this night and by dawn he would once again taste that which had eluded him for most of his life.

Freedom.

The same, however, could not be said for the poor unfortunate sat cowered in the dark corner of the cavern. A new toy for Pan’s amusement, no doubt. With no sign of Pan just yet, Hook casually glanced back at the small figure who appeared to be trapped in one of Pan’s giant hourglass prisons and was startled to realize it was no boy sitting with their knees curled into their chest, tears streaming down their cheeks, but was in fact… a girl.

Curious. Pan only ever wanted boys to join his little tribe of miscreants. What possible reason could he have for bringing a girl to--

“Ah, Captain! I do hope you have not been waiting long.”

“Only ten insufferable years,” Hook muttered under his breath, though he knew Pan heard him. Pan heard everything. “So we can dispense with the pleasantries if it’s all the same to you.”

They were squared off with one another, each taking on the posture that had become habit. Hook’s stance was always casual yet formidable, his thumb tucked behind his belt buckle with his weight shifted to one side, while Pan leaned against the craggy interior of the cave, his arms and ankles crossed as though he had not a care in the world. However, there was something off about Pan’s comportment this time. Hook could only surmise the change in demeanor was due to the ending of their arrangement and the little bastard’s loss of an errand boy.

A summation that proved wrong when Pan narrowed his gaze and hissed, “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

Hook’s brow pulled together and his head cocked to one side. “Find out… what?”

Pushing off from the wall, Pan slithered his way towards Hook, circling him in a way that made the pirate’s skin crawl, inquiring again, “Did you really think you could keep it from me?”

“Pan,” Hook sighed. He was so tired of the brat’s games. “I’ve no clue what you’re on about.”

Coming to a halt right in front of Hook, Pan crossed his arms over his chest, and though his feet were in a wide stance, exaggerating their difference in height, he somehow leveled his eyes with Hook’s.

“Did you think I would not discover the boon you were entitled to by King David himself?” Pan asked in a casual but dangerous tone. “The Law of Surprise you were promised for saving the man’s life?”

It took all of Hook’s composure not to react, though his jaw did betray him when the muscle beneath twitched. How could he possibly know about--

“Did you really think I would not keep tabs on your brother? On those whom you had served before me? It was part of our original arrangement that they would not interfere, and I had to make sure they made good on that promise. Imagine my surprise when my Shadow returned from his most recent reconnaissance with the news. The Law of Surprise bestowed upon you long ago.”

Trepidation filled him as Pan set off circling again, his mind spinning even as it tried to comprehend the words that followed.

“You never did find out what that surprise entailed, did you?” Pan made his way to stand next to the golden haired girl who was still trapped, her cries for help unable to penetrate the glass as he practically crowed, “Surprise! It’s a girl!”

“What?” Hook exhaled on an incredulous breath. “No, that’s… that’s impossible. She’s--”

“Princess Emma of Misthaven,” Pan stated. “Her existence was kept secret all these years for her own safety. Of course, now that Misthaven’s war with George is at an end the truth was finally revealed to its subjects. Although, I’m pretty sure only their Majesties and your brother are aware of her special connection to you. Well… and now me, of course.”

Hook’s gaze had been fixed on the young girl throughout Pan’s crowing. Her hair was a bit lighter than the king’s, her complexion not quite as porcelain as the queen’s, yet there was no denying her parentage. Her nose, her chin, her eyes… all features he could attribute back to King David or Queen Snow. She was theirs. Their child. But how? The Queen was barren. George had seen to it that she be unable to conceive and produce an heir, which made her existence a surprise indeed.

His surprise. His Child of Surprise according to magical law. She was his.

Drawing his sword, Hook advanced on Pan, thundering, “Let her go!”

With a flick of his wrist Pan immobilized Hook, leaving him virtually paralyzed in place and unable to move.

“I think not,” Pan sneered. “She’s my keepsake. A little token to remember you by… unless…”

“Unless what?” Hook spat through clenched teeth.

“Unless,” Pan drawled, “You agree to stay… indefinitely.”

Hook’s eyes cut to the princess - his princess - and the fear he saw shadowing her face tore his heart. Had Pan ripped her from her bed? Had his monstrous spectre dragged her here through the night sky with the potential horror of falling to her death whipping over her as they sliced their way through the air? How long had she been trapped in that corner, encased in a glass prison? What must she think of the scene playing out before her? How desperate must she be to return to her parents? Her parents. The King and Queen must be frantic. Almost as frantic as he was over the prospect of her being trapped here. Forever.

Over his dead body.

“Deal,” Hook agreed, casting his gaze once more on the demon boy. “On one condition.”

“What condition?”

“You let me take her back,” Hook demanded. “You let me ensure she gets home safe, tucked away once more in her bed. You let me reassure Their Majesties and inform my brother of our new deal. Give me that at least.”

Pan gave him a bored look, an almost disgusted sneer pulling at his lips as though he were disappointed by the sentimentality of the request. “Very well,” he said, dismissively. “I’ll have my Shadow ready the sail, but you best be headed back here before dawn,” he warned, pointing a bony finger towards the pirate. “And remind that brother of yours, he’s not to interfere. Him and your… sovereigns.”

Pan vanished before Hook’s eyes and the weight of what he’d just agreed to fell heavy within his stomach. The glitter of magic pulled his attention towards the hourglass, its walls dissipating, allowing freedom to its captive, but the princess shrank back further into the corner. Clearly fearful, but doing her best to put on a brave face, she stiffened her posture and lifted her chin, her eyes fixed on him as he tentatively approached.

“Have you come to ransom me to my parents?” she demanded, a quiver of fear trembling in her voice and manifesting in her bottom lip.

“No, Princess,” he assured her in a calm and soothing tone, dropping the timbre of his voice as he extended his hand towards her. “I’ve already paid your ransom. I’m taking you home.”

“You? You paid the ransom?” she asked incredulously. “Why?”

He tightened his jaw, making the muscles twitch, and contemplated how much to divulge to her. “Because I… I once served your parents, and between us there is a debt owed. It is my duty to see to your safe keeping.”

“You owe my parents a debt?” she said, taking a step forward.

He said nothing, letting her keep her wrong assumptions, and beckoned her forward with a quick gesture of his hand. “Come,” he said, taking her hand once she was clear of the opening within the glass. “We have a rather long journey ahead of us, and your parents must be worried sick.”

The princess followed along beside him, her little hand tucked tightly in his as they made their way to the cove where the Jolly Roger awaited them. The main sail was already darkened by the Shadow, and Hook wasted no time casting off once he and the princess were safe aboard. As soon as they were far enough away from the island Hook felt the ship begin to lift out of the waters and take flight. He curved his hook around a spoke of the wheel, bracing himself for the transition from sea to air as he held firm to Emma’s hand. The turbulent ascent and the way it made his belly fall was expected, but the arms frantically wrapping around his middle, attempting to squeeze the life out of him was not.

Looking down, he chuckled at the way the little princess buried her face in his leather coat, barely able to discern her muffled, “Tell me when it's over,” as she held on for dear life.

“You’ve nothing to fear, Princess,” he assured her, stroking his hand over her hair. “We can go below if it’ll make you feel better.”

Tilting her face upward, she stared at him with concern and apprehension swirling in her bright green gaze, and if there had been any doubt before, Hook knew in that moment there was not a thing in any and all the realms he would not do to ensure her safety and happiness.

“Don’t you have to man the helm?” she asked.

“No,” he told her, already leading the way towards his quarters. “The ship can manage without me.”

He hovered in the corner by the hatch steps as she perused the room, giving her space to grow comfortable with her surroundings..

“I’ve never been on a pirate ship before.”

“I should think not,” he responded to her off-handed comment, unable to keep the appalled tone from underpinning his words.

“Actually,” she said, studying the maps and charts that littered his desk. “I’ve never been on any ship. I’ve never even left the castle until yesterday.”

“Aye. Pan mentioned you’d been kept a secret all these years.”

“Mama and Papa said it was for my protection. They said King George could never know or else…”

She let the statement trail off and busied herself with inspecting his books, obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed.

“Forgive my curiosity,” Hook began tentatively, the need for answers gnawing at him and waging war against the instinct to keep her from having to recount anything unpleasant. “I was under the impression that Queen Snow was barren. How is it… that is. How did you…”

“The waters of Lake Nostos,” she informed him, making her way to his bunk and plopping herself down to sit on its edge with a small bounce.

“The what?” He crossed his arms and ankles, reclining further into the corner, heartened by the way she seemed to be relaxing in his presence and unwilling to make any sudden movement that might put her on edge once more.

“Lake Nostos,” she repeated, fidgeting with something in her hands. A seashell, Hook realized. She must have plundered it from his desk without his notice. She’d make a hell of a pirate someday, he thought wryly.

“My father acquired a barrel of it, hoping its powers might restore what King George’s poison took from my mother,” she went on to explain. “That’s what the legend says it does, anyway.”

Hook’s brows furrowed as a long forgotten piece of knowledge made its way from the recesses of his mind. “Its waters were said to have magical properties that could return something that was once lost.” The princess nodded, but Hook’s skepticism deepend. “I thought those waters had dried up.”

“They had,” she continued, turning the seashell over in her hands, “But Papa found a merchant that had one remaining barrel of its waters, and was able to acquire it. Although, his search for a cure was almost for naught.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Papa’s ship was ambushed by King George, with the barrel still aboard, and it sank to the bottom of the sea during the battle. Papa himself almost perished.”

Flashes of that battle erupted within Hook's mind. The smell of the gunpowder, the coppery taste of blood in the air, the excruciating pain in his wrist, the frigid bite of the dark waters, and those last moments just beyond death’s cold grip before he…

“Fortunately, a sailor hooked himself to the barrel and used it to keep afloat. Otherwise… I wouldn’t be here.”

All the air whooshed from Hook’s lungs, but he barely had time to process that astonishing twist of fate before the ship lurched and a tell-tale shade of green began to colour the princess’ features.

“There, there, lass,” he cooed softly, managing to get the basin to her in time and rubbing soothing circles over her back as she retched. Leaving the basin in her lap, he crossed the cabin and mixed up a tonic that would help settle her stomach, as well as put her to sleep for the duration of their journey.

“Here,” he offered, giving her a soft, encouraging smile as she brought the cup to her lips. “This will help with the queasiness, but it’ll also make you drowsy.”

Hook was humbled by the trust she showed him, swallowing every last drop of the tonic before handing the empty cup back to him.

“How long will it take before we get back to Misthaven?”

“A few hours,” he replied, grabbing a soft blanket from the chest at the foot of his bunk and encouraging her to lay back.

She yawned as he covered her, seemingly unaware as he removed the seashell from her grasp and placed it in his pocket, then she turned onto her side and tucked her hand beneath her head, her eyes following him as he settled into the chair behind his desk.

“You know… Papa doesn’t care for pirates much.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm,” she uttered wearily, the tonic already taking effect. “Make sure to wake me when we get there, so I can ensure your safety when you bring me back to the castle.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Hook’s mouth, and he couldn’t deny the warm feeling seeping through his chest at her insistence that she would protect him. Him. The fearsome Captain Hook.

“Do you believe your father would have me in irons the moment I set foot within the castle walls?”

“Yes,” she yawned. “Unless Uncle Liam gets to you first.”

The warm feeling turned to ice at the mention of his brother’s name. Uncle Liam. She’d been raised to regard his brother as her kin. It should not have surprised him. Of course his brother would have filled the void and stepped into the gap his absence had left behind. The Law of Surprise was dictated by the fates - and if he’d ever held any doubts over just how destiny driven that ancient magic was, the princess had all but wiped them away with her confirmation that her very existence would not have been possible had he not tethered himself to that barrel with the very hook her mother had later gifted him. The one still affixed to the brace on his left arm - it stood to reason that providence would provide a surrogate until such a time that destiny could be fulfilled.

Hook wondered what the fates might have in store for her now that he’d bound himself once more to Pan, this time… indefinitely. Perhaps that was fate's design as well. Who else but his brother could best help prepare her for the path that lay ahead as heir and future queen of Misthaven. Liam was a much better candidate than he, even before they’d sailed to Neverland. Before he’d failed to protect his captain from harm. Before he’d made the deal. Before Pan made him a pirate. Before he’d succumbed to the persona of Hook and, at times, many more times than he’d care to admit, had reveled in it.

Aye. This must have been the fates plan all along. A way to correct the error of the Law of Surprise ever being bestowed upon him in the first place. A way to ensure Emma’s safety and protection, her happiness and contentment. A way to set her on the right course so she could reign and rule her people with love and patience, mercy and justice. Virtues he’d long buried until they’d suffocated under the weight of his vices.

The fates were right. What use was a filthy, murderous, villainous pirate to one such as her? She was better off being looked after by his brother. Better off without him tarnishing her life and legacy, corrupting whatever goodness the fates had in store for her.

Hook left the little princess sleeping contentedly in his bunk, making his way back to the helm with his flask unstoppered in his hand. With each long pull of rum he took his eyes scanned the stars until he saw the two familiar flickering lights that signaled their passage from one realm to the next. The ship steered towards the star on the left and new heavens opened above him, revealing constellations he’d spent many a night in recovery mapping from one of the castle’s towers.

The Jolly Roger set down in the Misthavian waters several leagues from port and Hook moored her in a small cove not far from the castle. Gathering the still slumbering princess in his arms, he secured her to his person then swung down from the deck with the aid of the rigging. The sleeping draught he’d added to the tonic was proving quite effective, and Hook pushed away the guilt he felt over drugging her, knowing it had not been only for her own comfort that he’d added the sedative.

It was an arduous trek to the castle with very little of the waning moon’s beams to help guide him. Its illumination proved enough to alert the tower guards of his approach, however, for no sooner had he stepped onto the path that led to the back gate than a voice cried out a commanding order.

“Halt! Unhand the princess!”

“I have come in peace,” Hook told them, adjusting the princess’ weight in his arms.

“Not likely,” the guard scoffed. “You were spotted the moment your ship, with its unnatural black sail, descended. Since when does Captain Hook ever do anything in the name of peace?”

Hook sighed and leveled his gaze at the young knight, all the while clocking the other guards that were beginning to surround him. “Since he is here, not as Hook, but as the man he once was before becoming a pirate.” Swallowing heavily, he announced himself by the name he’d abandoned long ago. A name that felt more like a moniker than the one he’d earned wielding the weapon that had become his namesake. “Killian Jones.”

A few of the guards balked. “Jones? As in Admiral Liam--”

“I demand an audience with Their Majesties and my brother,” Hook barked. “I will only turn the princess over to their care. No one else.”

“Now see here, pirate! Who do you think you are to make dem-”

“Let him pass!” a familiar voice called out from behind the line of knights and guards. Pushing her way through the assembly, Tink emerged, a stunned and elated expression beaming from her features.

“Lady Bell,” Hook murmured in greeting, a wash of something like shame cascading over him as her eyes took him in and her expression soured into something more like shocked horror than pleasant surprise.

Whatever her final estimations of him, she shook off her stupefaction and rounded on the guards once more. “Did you not hear me? I said let him pass. Captain Jones is a faithful servant to the crown, evident by the fact that he has returned the princess to us. Escort him to the throne room and awaken Their Majesties at once!”

Hook had no idea what power Tink had carved out for herself within the Misthaven court this past decade, but that did not keep him from enjoying the spectacle of knights and guards tripping over themselves to carry out her orders as he was ushered to the throne room.

“Wait here,” his escort instructed, securing the doors behind him as he exited to stand guard until Their Majesties’ arrival. Hook was astonished that the man had left him alone with the princess, though he was grateful for the solitude, knowing he’d need these few moments to collect his thoughts and figure out how he would tell them about the new deal he’d struck… and because he knew these were the final moments he’d have with the princess - his princess - before he’d have to say goodbye to her.

Potentially forever.

He did not wish to linger on that thought.

Hook lowered himself onto the edge of the dais and cradled the princess in his lap while he waited for the king and queen to arrive. It felt strange to be back in this room. Not much had changed, based on the cursory perusal he gave the space upon entering. He wondered how much he would find King David and Queen Snow changed, to say nothing of his brother. They would be older, no doubt. Bits of gray peppering their temples, a few wrinkles beginning to etch themselves around the eyes and across their foreheads, but despite their outward appearance, Hook doubted very much that the years would have altered them as they had him.

No. If anyone was different, if anyone had undergone a drastic change to the point they might find themselves unrecognizable to those who had once known them best, it was him. Glancing down at himself, bedecked in his typical black leather and adorned with all manner of accessories unbecoming an officer, Hook wondered very much if any of them would recognize him at all.

The throne room doors banged open, causing Hook’s head to shoot up. The king and queen rushed in, hand-in-hand, followed closely by his brother. The three of them, darned in their nightclothes with their chests heaving from the exertion of sprinting from their respective bedchambers, stopped short at the sight of him sitting there with the princess wrapped in his arms. Gently, Hook laid Emma down beside him, then moved away, averting his eyes so as to not see their shocked expressions.

“She is well,” he assured them. “I gave her a sleeping draught to help calm her nerves on the journey home. It will wear off in due course.”

Stepping further back when he heard the stampede of footfalls coming towards him, Hook watched with a pained sort of contentment as the king and queen dashed to their daughter’s side. His meticulously honed skills, developed from years of having to navigate past dangers lurking within the Neverland jungle, alerted him to the soft pads making their way, not to the princess, but to him, and Hook braced himself to face his brother.

“Killian?” Liam's tone of pure exhilaration tore right through Hook. “Little brother, is it really you?”

“Aye,” Hook replied, his gaze, growing misty from the emotion welling beneath his lashes, still cast downward as he felt the weight of his brother’s hand upon his shoulder.

“After all this time,” Liam began, a sob choking his words. His hands cupped Hook’s face and he tilted his head upwards so he could look fully at his brother’s features. “You look just the same and yet, I hardly recognize you. Whatever are you wearing?”

Hook could not help the amused huff that left his lungs, matching his brother’s cheeky smile before allowing Liam to pull him into a tight embrace. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he desperately clung to his brother, wishing with all his might this didn’t have to be another good-bye.

“Oh, Killian!” Snow wailed, launching herself into his arms after Liam had released him, and he soon found himself in the bear-like grip of the king as his arms wound around both he and the queen.

“You found her? You brought her home? But how?” King David inquired, prompting their assembly back towards the dais so he and Snow could sit with Emma as they waited for answers. “She went missing only yesterday, when her maids found her bed empty. We hadn’t even sent word to other kingdoms yet, so how did you--”

“Charming,” Snow interjected, her eyes scrutinizing Hook with the practiced eye of a caring mother. “The tale can wait until Killian has had a chance to rest.” A warm smile graced her lips as she lovingly admonished, “You look dead on your feet. Allow us to have a room made up for you.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty, but I am afraid I must decline,” Hook responded heavily. “I only have until dawn before I must return.”

“Return?” Liam exclaimed. “No! Your years of service to Pan expired yesterday! I thought… I thought that’s why you were here. Because you are now free.”

“It’s true, my original agreement with Pan ended yesterday,” Hook said, his eyes cast back down towards the floor once more. “But… I made a new deal with the demon boy, and I must get back before dawn or else it becomes void.”

“Let it!” Liam shouted. “Whatever reason you made this deal, surely it is not worth another decade of suffering under that vile imp’s rule.”

Hook flicked his gaze up to Liam’s, then over to the still slumbering princess and imparted, “It is, actually.”

Snow gasped and David balked when they both realized the meaning and gravity of Hook’s words, and three sets of horrified and anguish filled eyes turned upon him.

“You mean--”

“It was Pan,” Hook confirmed with a somber nod. “Somehow, he discovered the boon I earned in saving your life all those years ago. The Law of Surprise I was not even aware I had received until it sat caged in Pan’s lair. The price of Princess Emma’s freedom was for me to agree to stay, and it is a deal I would make a thousand times over.”

“For how long?” David demanded. “How long is this new deal for?”

Hook’s jaw tightened and once again he found himself unable to look any of them in the eye as he confessed, “Indefinitely. Likely, until one of our deaths sets me free.”

Shouts of outrage erupted around him, both the king and his brother insisting he stay, assuring him they would be willing to go to war with Pan if need be.

“No!” Hook hollered back, a flash of fury burning in his eyes as he drew himself up to full captain’s height and stepped into the persona he’d fashioned for himself over these many years. “You don’t know Pan as I do. He is a formidable foe, one you can not hope to defeat with conventional means. You’ve only just found peace for your kingdom now the war with George is at an end. I will not see you enter into another. I will not risk any of your lives just to try and save mine.” Each of them flinched under his hardened gaze as it snapped from one to the other until it landed with a softened hint of affection upon the princess. “I will not risk hers,” he murmured gruffly. “She is too important, and I… I am nothing more than a filthy pirate.”

“That’s not true, little broth--”

“It is true!” Hook growled menacingly, raising his namesake. “I am none other than Captain Hook, who you yourself have issued countless bounties for, dead or alive,” he told them as the full realization of his identity hit them. “And that is only for the crimes you know I have committed. You cannot even fathom the atrocities of which I am truly guilty.”

“Killian, none of that mat--”

“That is no longer my name!” Hook roared. His eyes flashed again and David instinctually pulled his wife behind him. The protective action cut Hook to the quick, and he quickly deflated as he swept his hand through his hair while filling his lungs with a calming breath. Running his tongue over his lips, he swallowed past the shame gurgling up from his belly, and set contrite eyes upon his sovereigns. “My apologies,” he said in earnest. “Killian Jones may have been a man worthy of such sacrifice, but I assure you, Captain Hook is not. Regardless,” he paused and set his eyes upon Emma once more. “For better or worse, the fates entrusted her to my keeping, and I would see that duty met. But that won’t be possible once I leave here, which means…” he cast his eyes upon his brother and began to decree, “Into your keeping, brother, I bestow the rights and duty of the Law of-”

“Stop!” Liam commanded, placing his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t. Don’t you do that. Don't you give up.” Gesturing towards the princess, Liam vowed, “I will look after her in your stead, but she will remain your Child of Surprise. If only to give you some reason to keep on fighting. You said you would do your duty towards her, and we will hold you to that, brother. None of us can know why the fates chose you, all we can do is trust in some greater plan that has yet to come to fruition.”

“Liam is right,” the king added in agreement. “The honor, privilege, and responsibility of my child’s life rests with you, Killian. It always has. Will you continue to safeguard it?”

Eyes once more fixed on the sleeping child resting in her mother’s lap, Hook took in a deep and shuddering breath. “Aye,” he exhaled. “Even to my last breath.”

The force of the king’s slap to his back nearly knocked him over. “Good. Then come and sit with us. You said we only had until dawn, and we have much to catch up on.”

The next few hours were spent in camaraderie and merriment, with only the occasional melancholy or remorse. Hook had forgotten what it felt like: fellowship, the use of his given name, the occasion to laugh, to tease, to bond. All too soon the roosters began to crow from the yard outside the castle walls, announcing the coming of the dawn that would begin creeping over the horizon within the hour.

Hook would never know where he found the fortitude to not break down when the time came to bid a final farewell to Their Majesties - his friends - and brother. David gave him his word that he would have pardon within Misthaven, that the kingdom would be a refuge and sanctuary to him whenever he might have need of it. Liam made his little brother promise to keep fighting, to keep searching for a way to defeat Pan so he could come home once and for all. When the time came to say good-bye to Snow, Hook’s words got caught in his throat. Not because this was a more difficult farewell, but because it meant the one he was truly dreading would be next.

“Would you…” Snow began, hesitantly. Perhaps sensing his turmoil in that intuitive way she had about her. “Would you mind helping me get Emma back to her room?” she asked, glancing over at the cushioned bench where the princess had continued to sleep throughout their reunion. “I had hoped she might wake up so you could tell her good-bye, but perhaps tucking her in and knowing she is safe and sound would be the next best thing?”

“Aye, thank you, Your Majes… I mean. Thank you, Snow,” Hook corrected when she raised her brows at him, reminding him they had agreed to dispense with the honorifics, as good friends were wont to do.

Gathering the princess in his arms, Hook gave David and Liam one last look and resolved nod before following Snow out of the throne room and through the corridors until they reached Emma’s chambers. Snow opened the doors and gestured Hook inside, hovering just beyond the threshold as Hook deposited the princess in bed.

The child groaned and stretched, momentarily opening her eyes and fighting the effects of the draught as she wearily gazed up at the pirate kneeling beside the bed.

“Shhh, princess,” he soothed. “Everything is well now. You’re home.”

“I told you to wake me,” she mumbled. “Papa didn’t arrest you, did he?”

Hook chuckled. “No, lass. Your Papa has been most hospitable, but I have worn out my welcome and must go now.”

“Must you?”

“Aye, princess. I’m afraid so.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

Hook threaded his fingers through her hair, stroking the long, silken strands with a gentle touch before tucking them behind her ear. “I hope so, princess. Most assuredly.”

“Me, too.”

Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing began to even back out. Hoping she had not fully succumbed to the abyss of sleep once more, Hook pulled the seashell she’d taken from his desk and placed it back in her palm. “Here,” he murmured softly, “A little something to remember me by, and… a promise.” Stroking her hair once more, Hook leaned in and pressed his lips against her forehead, sending up a silent prayer to all the gods and fates that she be kept safe and only know happiness in her life before vowing, “Not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”

He knelt there for a moment more before making his way back towards the door, pausing at the threshold when he heard a quiet, “good” murmured from her bed. Tears stung his eyes, a halting breath escaping from his chest as he tried to maintain his composure in Snow’s presence.

Wrapping her arms around him, Snow gave him sanctuary to pour out his anguish. The despair and injustice. Everything he’d been suppressing since he’d discovered the truth and learned of Emma’s existence. Everything that was boiling over within him now, having to leave behind all he held dear, all that was precious to him.

It wasn’t fair.

Not because he felt he deserved better, he knew he didn’t. No. It wasn’t fair to Emma. Surely she must have felt it? The bond that had been created between them through the Law of Surprise. The feeling of being incomplete, as though he were leaving parts of himself behind, would she feel that loss as well? Would she ache for something she sensed missing as the deep recesses within him were now beginning to ache for her? Would she endeavor to fill the void his absence would create? Would she come looking for him?

“She can’t ever know,” Hook declared desperately.

“What?”

“Emma,” Hook clarified. “She can’t ever know about me. About the Law of Surprise. Please, Snow. Promise me you won’t burden her with that knowledge. Have the fairies help her forget me, if necessary.”

“Killian, what are you saying?” Snow inquired, her brow frightfully furrowed at his frantic demeanor.

“I’m saying, if she doesn’t know about me, then she won’t… she won’t be tempted to come find me. She’ll stay here. She’ll stay safe. Promise me.”

“I… I promise,” Snow agreed, though Hook could tell it was begrudgingly. “I promise that if she is ever to know the truth, it will only come from your lips.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled on a relieved breath, before pulling her into a final embrace. “For everything. I…”

“I know,” she assured him. “You must go,” she insisted, releasing him and taking a step back while wiping away her tears. “Dawn approaches.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, reaching out and giving her hand a squeeze. “Take care of yourself, Your Majesty.”

“Take care of yourself… Captain.”

With only minutes to spare, Hook made it back to the Jolly Roger and set sail back to Neverland. He was halfway back to the island of horrors when a sound from the hold sparked his curiosity. A quick search revealed… a stowaway.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing here, Tink?!”

“Shhh,” she admonished. “Keep your voice down or that spectre will hear you.”

“How do you know that spectre doesn’t already know you’re on board?”

“Because it was asleep when I snuck on.”

Hook balked. “It sleeps?”

“Yup,” she replied with a dramatic pop of the p. “Ten years and you never realized Pan’s shadow sleeps? I was right. You do need my help.”

“Your help?” Hook questioned, his head cocked to one side as he looked upon the fairy with confusion. “Help with what?”

“Why… killing Pan, of course. You and I both know that’s the only way out of your new deal with him.”

“How did you-”

“I was eavesdropping from the second floor gallery.”

“You what?!”

Tink held up her hand to stay his indignation. “Do you want to admonish me, or do you want to hear my plan?”

“You have a plan?” he repeated, with a heavy dose of skepticism. “To kill Pan?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Tink rocked back on her heels. “Mhmm. Wanna hear it or not?”

She was serious. She actually had a plan, and from the resolve he could see set within her shoulders and the way her eyes gleamed, Hook could tell it was a good one.

“I’m listening.”

Hook had to give it to the fairy, she was brilliant. Her plan had merit. Real merit. But it would take time, and cunning, and a fair amount of luck, and they’d be putting themselves at great risk if they failed.

“Why?” he demanded. “Why are you doing this? Risking everything. Your very life. Just to help me go free?”

“For one,” she said, taking his hand. “You deserve it.”

He wasn’t too sure about that. “And the other?”

Tink wet her lips and swallowed. “I’m doing it for her. For Emma. She needs you. Her life will never be… complete, never be fulfilled, never be what it's meant to be. Not without you in it.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, pulling his hand away. “She’s far better off without me in her life.”

A smirk lifted the corner of her lips, and they were both jolted by the jarring impact of the ship’s return to the waters of Neverland.

“We’ll see about that.”

Part Three - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@paradiselady19 @aprilqueen84 @kmomof4 @mie779 @donteattheappleshook @stahlop @anmylica @undercaffinatednightmare @zaharadessert @karl0ta @booksteaandtoomuchtv @courtorderedcake @superchocovian @pirateherokillian @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @the-darkdragonfly @jonesfandomfanatic @wyntereyez @xarandomdreamx @teamhook @winterbaby89 @justanother-unluckysoul @whimsicallyenchantedrose @badwolfreturns @deckerstarblanche @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @resident-of-storybrooke @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @youherotype @kday426 @snowbellewells @alexa-fangirl-forever @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @unworried-corsair @sals86 @natascha-ronin @livykatelin00-blog @jackieorioncat @annep1 @ilovemesomekillianjones @soniccat @youplaylikeagirl @th3capta1n @cocohook38 @zippoluv @bizquake

#csff

[misc-obeyme]

THE THREADS THAT BIND

CHAPTER ELEVEN

MASTERPOST for summary/info/chapter list

a/n: We got some extremely brief appearances from Diavolo and Satan in this one. Otherwise, it's mostly angst because MC is having trouble taking the good advice they were given. Isn't that how it always goes.

GN!MC x Barbatos | word count 1,271

Warnings: just some angst, but otherwise nothing

Despite the good advice you had received, you spent an unfortunate amount of time avoiding Barbatos. You thought you could work up the courage to tell him the truth, that you could simply march up to him and say it, but every time you saw him, your gut twisted horribly. It was so bad that you found it much easier to simply stay away from him all together.

You just needed some time, you told yourself. Time to work through how you felt, what you would even say, what you would do when he inevitably rejected you.

You should have known that Barbatos would notice.

You were in the library at RAD where you were supposed to be studying with Satan. He had gone off to find some books and you found yourself staring off into space, contemplating the woes of your predicament.

When someone sat across from you, you assumed it was Satan returned. When you looked up, your heart clenched to see Barbatos sitting there instead.

He seemed as calm as he always was, the same pleasant smile on his face.

"Hello, MC," he said.

You sat up a little straighter. "Hi, Barbatos."

"I see you are studying for the upcoming curses and hexes exam," he said.

You looked around the table at your notes and books, the unkempt piles and stacks. "Yeah," you said. "Satan just went to get some more books."

Barbatos watched you for a long moment, the silence stretching between you. You found you couldn't look at him.

"MC," he said at last. "I know you have been avoiding me lately. I cannot say I blame you. After all that time you spent forced to remain by my side, I understand that you need your space. I only wanted to see that you are all right. I know this hasn't been easy for you."

You looked at him then, but only briefly. Because the moment you saw the look of concern, you couldn't take it, and you looked away again.

"I'm fine," you said. "You don't need to worry about me."

There was another silence because both of you knew that was a lie. What was Barbatos thinking? That you were lying to him because you didn't want him to worry? Or you were lying to him because he was the problem? You didn't want him to think that. This was your problem, not his. But you couldn't manage to say anything else. You weren't ready to tell him the truth. Not yet.

You were looking at the table, but you still saw the way he reached out, stopping short and pulling his hand back. There was a thud in your chest, like a door had closed on the hollow that had grown inside you, inaccessible to anyone or anything.

"That is good to hear," Barbatos said.

He was so masterful at hiding his own feelings. You knew him well enough by now to know that he wanted to say something else to you, something about how he could tell that you weren't fine. And yet his voice gave away no such indication. It was as smooth as it ever was.

"Thanks for checking on me," you said.

Barbatos stood up from the table and you felt you had to look at him then. "You know where to find me, should you need anything."

You smiled at him, but it was so forced it was almost painful. Barbatos bowed to you briefly before walking away.

You sat at the table for a while, staring down at the mess of papers in front of you, not thinking about anything except how much you were hurting.

In the midst of this wallowing, Satan returned to the table, dropping a stack of books on it with a heavy thud. A thud reminiscent of the one that had echoed through your heart. You forced yourself to push all that aside and focus on the studying at hand.

-

After that, both you and Barbatos seemed to be avoiding each other. The others must have noticed, but nobody said anything. The only indication you had that anyone thought anything about it was the way Arsenios sometimes gave you pointed looks from across the classroom. You would give him a brief, pained smile before turning away again.

The truth was that everybody had indeed noticed what was going on. Solomon mentioned something to Simeon, who talked about it to Lucifer, who then told Diavolo… in the end, everybody knew about it. It was surprising how well they all kept it to themselves, though. It had a lot to do with how they could tell bringing it up with you would cause you pain.

This didn't stop Diavolo from taking it upon himself to invite you over to the Demon Lord's Castle, though.

It happened after RAD one day, when you were about to head back to the House of Lamentation, that he asked you to sleep over.

"You haven't been to the castle in some time, MC!" he said as you gathered up your books. "Is there any way I can convince you to stay the night?"

You considered his offer. Part of you was suspicious. There was no way Diavolo hadn't noticed that something was up with his butler. Was he only asking you to stay over so that you'd be forced to be in proximity with Barbatos?

Was that such a bad thing?

You had to admit that things couldn't continue on this way. The pain you felt every time you accidentally met Barbatos's eyes, the way you always made excuses not to go to the castle, the empty hollow in your chest that never seemed to diminish. Maybe you could find some relief from these things if you faced the rejection, if you felt that acute pain instead of this throbbing ache. That definitive answer was what you needed in order to move on. And Diavolo was giving you the opportunity to do it.

"All right," you said, smiling at Diavolo.

Diavolo acted as though he couldn't see the way your smile was forced. He clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Then I will see you this evening!"

You took yourself back to the House of Lamentation, leaving behind some of your school things and packing an overnight bag for staying over at the castle.

When you arrived, dinner was already prepared. Diavolo was waiting for you, but Barbatos didn't seem to be around, which was unusual.

You didn't ask about it, just had a pleasant dinner with Diavolo, who chatted with you about many different topics. He didn't ask you about Barbatos or the curse or anything even remotely related to either of those things.

The Little Ds seemed to be filling in for Barbatos, bringing you refills of your drink and taking away plates to the kitchen. You suspected that Barbatos himself was in the kitchen directing the whole thing. Likely he couldn't stand to see you, after the way you had lied to him so blatantly in the library.

Diavolo himself brought you to the familiar guest room where you had spent so many nights. You thanked him for dinner and for his company that evening. He beamed at you as though this was all going exactly how he had intended.

You were confused as you got ready for bed. You had really believed the whole purpose of this was so that you would have to face Barbatos.

And yet, he had not made an appearance.

Conflicted, you decided to just go to bed and try to sleep. Perhaps he would be there in the morning.

masterpost | chapter one

chapter ten | chapter twelve

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #barbatos obey me #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me x reader #om barbatos x reader #om barbatos x mc #barbatos obey me x reader #barbatos obey me x mc #the threads that bind #misc writes

[a-smol-cosplayer]

Okay here is my master list of Wyler fic recs cause literally two people asked and I cannot control myself.

Psa I have probably read at least 70% of the fics on this tag in ao3 however these are my bestest/favourite ones. most of them are ongoing bc this fandom is hella new but still :) pls check ratings and tags before u read obvi. Also none of these fics are out to hurt u (as far as I’m aware) some of the longer ones might have angst but I’m here for relationship, plot and fluff rather than angst and pain (we go enough of that in the show). Some of the ongoing ones have updates every two/three days? Some haven’t updated since I have read them but most of them are under a week and a half old so I still have hope. There are ordered in shortest to longest in each category 

alright enough chitter chatter, buckle ur seatbelts people here we go!!

Finished 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43546942

Ocean Blue Eyes, Looking In Mine (I Feel Like I Might, Sink And Drown And Die) - cute Wyler one shot where they are dating at nevermore, after season 1, {1,876 words}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43494253#main

Grocery shopping in c minor - alternate au grocery store, Tyler works there, love the fact that he’s still super sweet but slightly unhinged, characterisation on point, {3,759 words}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43386558/chapters/109065348

A Half Life - Tylers pov of the first ep or so, kinda angsty bc its Tyler and he’s struggling, but still nice, not sure if its technically Wyler but its got the vibes {4 chaters but only 4,272 words}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43332840 

Yeah, all you did was smile (‘cause I’m a mastermind) - canon divergent but still similar story line, Tylers pov, love how they have chemistry, no hyde Tyler but still really good, {8,536 words}

In progress - y’all don’t understand, I religiously check these for updates every single day

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43333995/chapters/108929727

What if… you helped me change? Basically what could have happened after the kiss in ep 7, minor kidnapping but we forgive him bc he was freaking out, no real ‘hyde Tyler’ more like ‘idk how this happened but I want to make it better Tyler’ {3 chapters, 3,592 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43353318/chapters/108979656

I never fell again - only really the set up so far, Wednesday comes back to school and finds that Tyler has come back and is enrolled in nevermore, she hates (misses) him so much, na they love each other {4 chapters 5,505 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43278591/chapters/108783186#workskin

On Wednesdays we dance - wednesday buys a laptop and enters a horror writing group, and yet, one prompt is about a date, and Tyler offers so that he can have real life experience, another wednesday style date which is so cute, I really love this fic its super fluffy and nice {2/3 chapters 5,733 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43470636/chapters/109282542#workskin

Perfect Match - READ THE TAGS (is rated T but really should be M/E) not much plot just wyler smut, and unholy use of the gates mansion, set after season 1 ends, also slightly off topic, but I like the hc that wednesday eats dried strawberries, idk why but I love it, anyways, read at ur own warning, {3/4 chapters finished 7,387 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43286737/chapters/108804511

Frump Family Curse - from ep 8 into post season 1, we get some obsessed wyler at the start, and then, build on each of the characters for upcoming chapters, shaping up to be a really good fic. Also surprise Gomez and Donovan friendship over there cute murder children, 100% support {4 chapters 9,111 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43354401/chapters/108982119

Woe to do with two soulmates - Wednesday has 2 soulmate marks (writing of their first words to her, I think we know where this is going👀) and doesn’t know which one she wants yet, deals with Wednesday and feelings and well and our adorable barista, some angst cause ew laurel but still really good, sort of plot twist?/something I didn’t expect but I’m glad it happened in chap 8 {9 chapters and 11,498 words and counting}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43284108/chapters/108797994

My unconquerable soul - wyler, mostly after season 1 in the break, tags!! And ratings!! Please!! They are psycho but psycho for each other, some light kidnapping, the hyde side of Tyler appears a little, some angst but mostly dark fluff {10 chapters, 12,749 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43482336/chapters/109313109

A Girl and her Monster Of Woe - post season 1, wednesday realising that she actually liked and missed him, in her own dark way obvi, setting up for them to meet again, sort of adresses how Tyler can stay and not be charged, yet again pls read rating and tags {7 chapters, 13,266 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43424209/chapters/109164106

Woeful - wednesday comes in wondering about Hydes and the cute barista seems to know an awful lot about them👀 basically, Tyler knows he’s a hyde, but!! He isn’t the one murdering people, developing some alternate plot line which seems really good so far, plus wednesday and Tyler being cute in the weathervane {7 chapters, 13,906 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43328175/chapters/108913881 

She’s mine - I know I keep telling y’all to check ratings but I don’t want any ‘I didn’t realise’ complains, basically Tyler realised that he fucked up and wednesday is actually his mate (I dislike that word but oh well) and basically fixes his mistakes in ep 8 ect ect, goes slightly further, loving the surprise Tyler/ajax friendship that comes with dating enid/wednesday, also good Adams adopting Tyler vibes {10 chapters 20,203 words and counting}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43466823/chapters/109273329 

Just the Two (Three) of Us - wednesday if she’s known about the hyde from the beginning, I really love this fic, lots of wyler connection and chemistry and stuff, trust me, its good, the characterisation and writing is excellent {7 chapters 22,728 words so far}

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43329579/chapters/108917643

You can occupy my every sigh - wyler!! Literally my fav fic rn, Tyler already goes to nevermore, has its own plot line sorta, pls check the tags and rating before reading, Wednesdays characterisation is so good, got some Tyler/enid friend vibes as well, soulmates? Bonded? Something? idk its really good and super long - {11 chapters, 123,607 words and counting}

okay thats it!! let me know what u think in the comments, also if u have good fics that I haven't put on here I'm always open to more recs :)

#wyler #wednesday x tyler #tyler x wednesday #tyler galpin #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday #weyler #?? #I know thats not their actual name but ill put this on that tag too #fic recs #ao3 #fan fiction

[luminous-letters]

Hi!!! Congrats on the 1000 followers, I hope I'm not too late for request.

If it's alright, I would like to request a scenario where Sebek, after a few months of being with his (preferably male) s/o, finds out that the reason why his s/o never initiate anything (never text or call first, never ask for a hug or anything, etc.) is because the s/o is afraid they'll come across too needy and ruin the relationship.

I don't know if this count toward angst or not so I would like to apologise beforehand if it does. Thank you for your time!

Croccy take the wheel, take it from my hand

Thank you so much anonn. I hope this didn't take too long to finish 😭

"Display of affection...?" Sebek scratched the back of his head in confusion. He's been absorbed in the book he was reading for the last hour. No matter how many times he'd play back all the moments you've been together, you've never exhibited any of the signs the book had listed. Not even once.

Nicknames, hand holding, resting your head on your lover's shoulder, saying 'I love you' in between moments. There was a tinge of shame that he felt well deep inside him. Had he failed as your lover? He followed the romance books Lilia picked out for him. He still vividly recalls the exchange between them.

"Master Lilia! I've come to seek your aid!" Sebek announced, rudely busting through Diasomnia's large double-doors.

Abandoning his ongoing meeting, Lilia turned to face him, his expression shifting from a serious one to a more peppy demeanor. "Why if it isn't Sebek! Ever-lively as always, I see," the Diasomnia vice chuckled.

"I... I need help with MC."

"Oh? Have you two been on the rocks lately?"

"No, we're faring smoothly. I need your advice on how to become a better lover! I want to give it my all, but I'm not sure how..." Sebek's voice became hushed. He was embarrassed, sure, but he doesn't want to back out. Not now. "I'm certain that with your extensive knowledge, there has to be a solution."

"You flatter me. How cute." And as an idea came into Lilia Vanrouge's mind, his smile grew bigger. "I've got a solution for your woes. You're an avid reader, no? There's this one book I've collected from my travels, I'm sure it will teach you all you need to know about romance!" The fae chirped.

The book was titled, 'Instructional Guide for the Romantically Challenged (For Dummies)'. A fine piece of work, truly.

"Sebek, you're going to run late for club activities." A voice called. It was yours. He knows that voice, even in a crowd he would be able to recognize it.

"Instructional... for the Romantically Challenged?" You dragged the words out in confusion. Looking past your puzzled expression, the subtle shift in your look told him that you knew what the book meant. You averted his gaze and tried to shy away.

It pulled him out of a trance. It pulled him out of the path he'd been fruitlessly circling. But now you're here, now he has a chance to ask you.

"You..." his attempt to give a serious growl ended up turning into a concerned whimper. "Is there something about me? Is it something I did? Or something I didn't? Something that makes you so distant," his voice faltered, surprising even himself. He didn't want to be seen like this, vulnerable, but he was.

"It has nothing to do with you," you took a deep breath.

"But it does. I'm your boyfriend. Whatever it is that bothers you, you can tell me," he looked you in the eye. "You can trust me."

"I don't... I don't want to be needy. I'm not needy. Sebek, I'm content with what I have now. If I push too far... no. I don't want to cross boundaries I shouldn't," you were shaking.

Sebek was at a loss for words. For once, since that day Lilia handed it to him, he shut the book. He rushed to your side.

Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you think that.

But the words refused to come out of his throat. He never knew. He should've known, he would've done something immediately instead of letting you combat your own anxiety by yourself.

Cupping your cheek, he now had the courage to speak. He now had the resolve to face this problem.

"I'm sorry. I should've known," he held you tight, he leaned his head over your shoulder. "Berate yourself all you want, but I'll never think of you as a nuisance. You're not needy and you're certainly not pushing too far. If anything you're pushing yourself away." Sebek closed his eyes for a moment.

"I want to face this... I want to face us. I don't want to run away from this. And you shouldn't too. Small steps, MC, small steps. You don't have to do all those gestures if you don't want to, at least not right away. We can do this together," he held your hand.

Your palm felt cold. He gave it a soft squeeze.

He faced you, determination burning behind the lush forest that were his irises.

"I am Sebek Zigvolt, a freshman from Diasomnia dorm and MC's boyfriend. Pleased to meet you," he declared, loud and proud as always.

"MC, the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm and... and Sebek Zigvolt's lover."

As if the words were sacred promises, he sealed them with a kiss.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #gn!mc #gender neutral reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twst oneshot #answered ask #fluff #sebek zigvolt fluff #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #trust tgat riddle's going to be mad after this #what do you mean you lost track of time #and lilia's all ahh he's learned so much from me #while silver in the background's all father you know that thing never helped

[corvidscreams]

MerMay was certainly productive this year! Consider this a master list of sorts for the higher quality uploads, listed chronologically:

Koi Boi Cal Seal Dad Jango Boba Seal Wants Attention Pirate Meet Fish Cal Out of Water Cal's Pirate Woes Merrin Out of Water Boba Tour of the Sea Kesettin Kiss Sinking Cal Baby Cuddles

#my art #kesettin #kesett #merrett #merrical #boba fett #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #star wars #star wars fallen order #star wars fan art #jedi survivor #mermay #calboba #jango fett #mermay 2023