#mos: flower husbands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shanastoryteller · 8 months

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Hello! Thank you for taking the time to open prompts! Could i ask for some lady mo, or anything with wei wuxian? He’s my fave!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

When one of the servants A-jie had brought with her when she married catches his eye and then disappears, Jiang Cheng’s stomach drops.

He leaves Shuchun to deal with the official mingling, which earns him a dirty look, but he refuses to feel bad about it. Wang Yan is hovering at the edges and either she or Jin Ling will save her from any truly obnoxious conversations.

He makes his way to his sister’s rooms, knocking twice before pushing inside. “What’s going on?”

The first person he sees is Jiang Xingyi, which is never good, but A-jie appears whole and healthy. She grabs his arm with both hands, pulling him close before whispering, “Would you be able to get genkwa before the end of the night hunt?”

“Yes,” he says, even though doing it without getting caught is going to be nearly impossible. What his sister needs, she gets. “How far along?”

She doesn’t look any different to him, but then again she never does. But if she needs it before the end of the night hunt, she must have caught it late this time.

This isn’t the first time he’s needed to do this.

A-jie’s body might not be able to handle another birth. He knows that she wants a big family, but none of them are willing to risk her life for another child.

Well, he and Jin Zixuan aren’t. Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin would do it gladly, which is why they can never, ever know of the times he’s had to smuggle the crushed purple little flowers into her hands.

“It’s not for me,” she says which leaves him blinking. “Maybe we won’t need it, but she won’t stop crying, and I don’t want to offer her something that I can’t carry through on. You’re sure?”

“Yes,” he says, “but who are we talking about?”

If it’s A-jie, everything has to be handled with the utmost secrecy, only Jiangs, Jin Zixuan, and Jin Guangyao privy to her condition. But a servant girl or even a noble’s daughter doesn’t garner enough attention to warrant their normal subterfuge.

A-jie gives him a look so full of grief that he’s already reaching for her before she turns and crosses over to the entrance to her private bath. She knocks then leans against the door, “Meimei, can you come out? There’s someone else here, he can help you. You can trust him, I promise.”

The endearment tells him nothing beyond it’s a woman younger than A-jie.

The seconds drag on and then the door slowly opens, a women clad only in one damp robe stepping out. He lifts his eyes to her face, red and splotchy from crying and her hair a mess all around her, and feels his mouth drop. “Lady Xuanyu?”

The wife to the second jade of Lan is not some servant girl or even just a noble’s daughter.

She sees him and fresh wave of tears roll down her face, but she’s smiling too, and A-jie is relaxing. “Hi Jiang Cheng.”

“Is it his?” he asks, mind spinning. “Lan Wangji’s?”

A-jie glares at his lack of tact, but he’s trying to make sense of this. If she’s sleeping around on Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng is hardly going to blame her for it, but it’ll explain why she needs to end the pregnancy.

She hiccups, lifting a sleeve to wipe at her cheeks. “Y-yeah.”

On the bright side, it’s not like Lan Wangji can hate him more than he already does.

A second reason for her to be so miserable at the news that she’s carrying her husband’s child occurs to him and the rage that sweeps through him is surprising in its intensity. “Does he hurt you?”

He drank with her the night before her wedding and told her that Lan Wangji wasn’t that awful, that he wouldn’t hurt her. He told her that she’d be safe as his bride.

But now she’s sobbing and pregnant and so clearly terrified.

Xuanyu hesitates.

“I’m going to kill him,” he says. It comes out perfectly calm, none of his normal bluster. Both A-jie and Jiang Xingyi pale.

He turns to leave, already planning on drawing his sword first and explaining after. Lan Wangji has made a liar out of him. Xuanyu is young and didn’t ask for any of this and he has a responsibility to protect his bride and Jiang Cheng told her that he wouldn’t hurt her and now she’s here and she’s hurt and he’s going to rip Lan Wangji’s spine out and shove it down his throat.

People don’t like him, don’t get along with him, generally. But she’d sat with him beneath the light of the moon and drank with him and it had been something warm and familiar that he hasn’t had since before the war. He tells himself that’s why he cares his so much when the truth is he doesn’t know why, it’s just that she feels familiar in a way he can’t explain, not when he the first time they met was that night.

“Jiang Cheng!” She lunges forward, hugging him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist. He braces for the feeling of discomfort, ready to push back agaisnt the urge to shove her off of him. It doesn’t come. “I didn’t mean like that! We spar, a lot, and I get hurt, but I’m always requesting it. It’s not like that.”

He turns in her arms, gently pushing her back but not letting go of her shoulders. “Then why are you crying? It’s okay, you can tell me the truth. I’m not afraid of Lan Wangji.”

“I just,” she sniffs. “I can’t – he doesn’t like me, you know? And – and I’m better than I was, um, healthier, but what if,” she blinks heavily, “what if I’m not strong enough, or something goes wrong, and then – what if I mess it up? And it’s all my fault, because I was weak, and then I’m a failure and he hates me–”

“Oh, Xuanyu,” A-jie whispers. He knows she had a lot of those same fears when she was pregnant with Jin Ling, and she and Jin Zixuan were in love, and he proposed to her fully knowing the state of her health.

Both Xuanyu and Lan Wangji were forced into this marriage.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says firmly. “If you don’t want to have this baby, then you don’t have to. Whatever the reason. And if anyone tries to force you to, I’ll stop them. I don’t care who they are. Understand?” He waits until she gives a wide eyed nod. “But I don’t – I don’t think that Lan Wangji will react like how you think he will. And if he disappoints you, then I will help you take care of it. But I don’t think he will.”

Twice now he has vouched for Lan Wangji to Xuanyu, this girl who feels like another sister even though he barely knows her.

If Lan Wangji makes a liar out of him, he will beat him bloody and not even Lan Xichen will be able to hold it against him.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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loupy-mongoose · 5 months

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Randy sat outside, leaning against the wall of Fuji's house. Pens of small Pokemon were dotted around the area, with people bustling among them, feeding, playing with, and talking sweetly to the Pokemon. He found himself wondering if this was Fuji's work.

A breeze kicked up, and Randy lifted the collar of his sweater around his neck. Boy, glad I grabbed a turtleneck before coming here...

As he huddled against the cold of the changing seasons, he could already feel his mind starting to calm down. Still, he sighed for the hundredth time that day.

Why does it always have to come back to this?

Why can't I just... be me?

What do I have to do to be free of it?

Short of...

He didn't finish that thought.

He curled in on himself, tucking his head in his arms.

He sat like that until he heard the door open and approaching footsteps. Looking up, he craned his neck to see Mr. Fuji's face.

Here you are.

As Randy stood up, Fuji held out a hot mug of steaming tea. He gave Fuji a grateful smile as he took them. Thank you, Mr. Fuji.

The old man's face lit in a wide smile. Not a problem, my boy!

Randy looked down into the mug, smelling the inviting aroma, eager for it to cool.

Do you mind if I join you on your walk?

He looked up, startled by the request.

You struck me as having more you wanted to say. But if I'm wrong, feel free to tell me off.

Randy looked down at his drink, watching ripples shimmer on its surface.

He wasn't wrong... but...

If... If you want to, I guess... I don't feel like I'll be good company right now, though.

Maybe not. Fuji shrugged, and Randy noticed for the first time that he already had a jacket on. But what will be, will be. Nothing wrong with just taking a quiet walk around town, eh? And if you want me to leave at any time, just say the word!

~~~~~~

They perused the streets of Lavender Town, Randy taking in the sights of the unfamiliar location. He tried to ignore the Ghastlys and Haunters he saw hovering around, but shivered nonetheless.

I know this town doesn't have the friendliest atmosphere. Fuji gazed around, his face warm. It's home to me, but I know others can be turned off by it.

I'm just not fond of Ghost types...

The older man nodded, a solemn, knowing glint lighting his eyes. That's understandable.

They walked on in silence for a while, Randy now sipping on his drink occasionally. He closed his eyes and took in the scent of the lavender flowers planted throughout the town. Despite their sweetness, he still found them soothing.

In time, the walk came to be quite relaxing. Randy and Fuji started chatting about little things here and there.

They made their way to the dock-laden route south of the town. There they stopped to lean on a rail, watching waves bob leisurely on the ocean surface.

After a while in silence, Randy turned to his companion. I'm sorry you got wrapped up in my mess, Mr. Fuji. That's not fair to you. I hate dragging Akoya and Lav into it, let alone a stranger like you.

I'm sorry it's something you're going through. I never would've expected a Mew to have that kind of power, nor would I have thought of the effect it would have on one's psyche.

Yeah... It... It's been a journey...

He let out a deep breath.

Most of the time these days, I'm fine. I can ignore the doubts, if they pop up, and be the husband and father that they need... That I want to be.

I love them, with all my heart, and want nothing more than to be there for them...

But sometimes... sometimes I can't figure who I actually should be... Sometimes I feel like it's wrong for Randall to be here. Like it... should be Mo...

Mo was the one who should've made it out... Not Randall...

He looked down into the water, watching his shadowy reflection waver beneath his feet. Mr. Fuji's image, beside his own, appeared thoughtful.

We here in Lavender Town have saying for people like you, Randy.

Randy looked at the older man.

You were touched by the White Hand.

He raised an eyebrow. Uhhhh, what by the what now?

It's something we say about people who are, by all means, supposed to be dead, but somehow are not. Be it by a stroke of mad luck, fate, intervention by a higher being, a random miracle, what have you... Kind of like the personification of a second chance.

People here call that miracle force "The White Hand".

Okay... But why a hand?

I don't know why it's called that. As far as I know, it's an ancient legend that has devolved into a mere phrase for understanding the unknown. I have no idea if this "hand" is something to be taken literally or just as a metaphor.

Unfortunately, it has also been twisted into a joke that townsfolk will play on unsuspecting visitors. Claiming to see a white hand on their shoulders. Lav told me this morning that someone played it on her before I stumbled into her.

I prefer to see it as a force for good.

And I think anyone touched by it is meant to be here.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT (Not yet)

ARC START | CHRONO

Happy Thanksgiving, to those who celebrate today! ^w^

It was actually a coincidence that I ended up posting a "thankfulness" leaning part today of all days. Happy little accident~

#Linden Roots #art #writing #babbies #mite #lore #Lol the first and last thing Randy says out loud in this is “Thank you Mr. Fuji”#That was also an accident. XD #BLH #By Lavender's Hand #full

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wifiwuxians · 7 months

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happy mid-autumn festival!!! i hope it's a day of good fortune and reunion for everyone! i yearn for the day in which i am able to eat a mooncake.

much to my chagrin this drawing appears very different on desktop and on mobile but oh well. i think i'll take a crack at writing an ID for this one, just because there are a few characters! including xunyang 83 everyone else is offscreen lol but they're there i promise

[ID: a scene depicting a moonlit picnic to mark the start of mid-autumn festival, featuring several characters from MDZS, as well as two of the artist's own characters from a fic titled Dawn Chorus. in the bottom left corner sit Wen Zhuliu, Wang Lingjiao, Mo Xuanyu and Wen Chao. they are conversing pleasantly. the bottom right corner hosts Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan and Jin Ling, alongside a puppy version of Fairy. Jiang Yanli has brought her famous soup, as well as some spring rolls. Jin Ling is lying down and holding a lantern as his mother strokes his back. Jin Zixuan has a loving arm around his wife's torso. behind them, Jiang Cheng is attempting to wrangle Fairy and keep her from eating their food. above and to the left sit the Dawn Chorus characters Wen Xun and the fic-specific version of Xue Yang, who has his arm around him as he laughs. they've brought wine. in Xue Yang's lap sits an infant, Hexie, who is reaching out to a fruit gleefully offered to them by Standard Edition Xue Yang, who is sitting a bit ahead with A-Qing, Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan, who smile at the scene while drinking tea and eating. they've brought a platter of crab. to the right of them sit Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, who are happily holding Lan Sizhui between them. their snack is watermelon. behind them, just arriving, are Mianmian, who is carrying her daughter in her arms, and her husband, who is carrying their lantern and food. behind them is Wen Qing, who is calling out to Wen Ning, who is rushing up to her with a smile and a box in his hands. the corner of a blanket in the top left and the top of someone's head in the bottom right suggest there are more people at the gathering. a few white flowers bloom on the grass everyone sits on, predominantly around Wen Xun. every picnic blanket has mooncakes, and most characters brought lanterns. many other lanterns are seen floating by and up into the sky, towards the full moon. the atmosphere is friendly and lighthearted. /end ID]

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allkordelia · 4 months

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Keep Me Near Your Heart X

Aemond was quiet the whole trip into the market and the carriage ride, I didn't know if I should be worried or relieved, so I picked the latter ignoring the look he sent meant me.

I admire my gown, it was white gold with golden stitches of flowers in the middle of my midway, and short see through sleeves.

I heard Aemond cleared his throat making me look away from my gown to him, he looked annoyed and bothered at the same time making me raise my brow.

"Yes?" Aemond glance away before looking at me.

"You...Why did you do that."

"Do what?" I asked tilting my head to the side.

"You know what." He snapped making me give Aemond a look.

"You have to be more specific husband, I can't read your mind." Aemond rolled his eye.

"Why did you give that boy your ring?" Aemond questioned mad, " My mother put in effort buying you that gift you just gave it away, are--"

"I didn't give away the ring out of spite of your mother, Aemond." I roll my eyes, "It didn't even cross my mind that she brought it for me, I gave it to the boy because he looked like he haven't eaten in weeks." I finished.

Aemond was quiet again, I look at him to see him with a space out look like he was thinking about something.

"...so, you did it out of the kindness of your heart?" Aemond replied mockingly making me pull a face.

"Obviously, what else would I do it for? Unlike your mother, I don't need to pretend to me be a benevolent woman to hide my self righteousness." I turn away looking out of the window, looking out at the passing shops and stands.

I didn't turn away when I heard Aemond's shift around, but u did turn my head slightly feeling something rub against my foot and ankle making me glance at Aemond.

"What are you doing." I ask flatly

He smiled when he look at me.

"I am feeling a bit peckish," He moves to lean forward before getting off the bench to get on his knees in front of me, "And I remember vaguely you promising me a sweet for a my hard work."

A small smirk appeared on my lips at his words, I drone softly nodding my head.

"I did promise that, didn't I." He nodded his head in response as his hands drag down my skirt, "Well, a promise is a promise. Close your eye." Aemond look back up at me with a furrow brows confused, "If you want your treat you must close your eye, my prince." Aemond a frown a bit before doing what I did, i grab the pouch that sat next to me.

I opened it up taking one sugar grape between my fingers, I lean forward pressing the candy against his lips.

"Open up, my prince." I said sultry, and like before he did what I said making me pushing the candy inside his mouth gently.

He opened his eye staring as he latch his lips around my index finger, making me pull my hand back with giggle. He smirk at me as he eats the sugar grape, I take one out for myself and pop it in my mouth before leaning back, moving the pouch to the side.

"How does your treat taste," I ask with a sly smile, Aemond hums as he swallow.

"...sweet." I felt my skirt lift a bit and cold hand touch my ankle before trailing up and stopping at my calf, "But, I wish for something more sweeter," He grins when I roll my eyes, he didn't waste time before lifting my skirt and putting over his head.

I shook my head trying not to smile when he bit me, I put my hands over my face when I felt him get closer. I sigh into the palm of my hand as he indulge himself to me, sometimes he make it hard to stay silent, I wish he wait when we got back to the castle. I swallow griting my teeth at the tingly sensation in my stomach, I drag my hands on my face holding on to the bend and aemond's head.

I roll my hips alignment with him as he bring me close to the edge, I shudder biting down on my lip as a moan stayed stuck in my throat.

Aemond pulled away as I watch lazily, his hair was a bit disheveled, he comb his fingers through it before getting up and moving the pouch from next to me to take its spot. He got another sweet out and pop it in his mouth, before doing the same to me, he press it against my lips wanting for me to open until I did.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, as we shared the sweets together.

「 ⊹₊♚₊⊹ 」

The sun was slowly going down when I sat in my chamber in my afternoon gown, waiting on Enith return, just as I was thinking about the handmaid the door to my chamber opened making me look to see Enith.

She smiled at me with her hand behind her back, making me look at her curious.

"Before you asked, yes there is something behind my back, and yes I did lie to you about what I was really doing." I raised my brow at her amuse as she walks towards the bed and sat down, "I just hope you like it," she took her hand from behind her back, and opened her palm to reveal a bronze oval locket with a three headed dragon attached to a matching bronze chain.

Her thumb press the side making it open, she open it wider revealing a drawing inside. My heart weight heavy with sadness and joy at the face of my daughter, I put my hands over my mouth as I stare with welled up tears in my eyes.

"I had the blacksmith make the locket, and I drew the portrait." I look up at her in surpised moving my hands.

"You drew this?" She nodded her head, I look down at the portrait again, "It's beautiful...you captured every detail of her virtuous little face, it's..." I stopped myself feeling the lump grow in my throat as I kept my emotions down, I look back at Enith with a teary smile, "...this is the greatest gift you can give me, Enith, thank you." Enith smiled bowing her head bashfully.

"Thank you, your highness." I smiled at her before handing the locket back making her look at me.

It took her a second after I turn around to realize what I wanted her to do, I move my hair hair put of the way waited patiently as she put the necklace around my neck. It didnt take long for her to put over my neck and clamp it in the back, I turn around feeling her lean back and hug her.

Enith took in a sharp breathe before I pulled away, she look at me with grimace making me frown worried.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Enith massaged her temple before looking at me, she dropped her hand and gave a strain smile.

"I-I'm fine, princess." She stuttered, "Just a headache." She promised.

My frown deepen, I couldn't tell if she was lying or telling the truth, her words didn't match her face. She looked in pain for a moment before a look of relief dawn her features, maybe she was right about the headache, I can only imagine the stress she caused herself for picking out my present.

"Okay," I drawl out looking at her unsure.

I glance around the room not sure what else to say, I flicker my eyes over to enith when I knee she wasn't notcing and find her looking at my lap with scrunch up furrow brows as if thinking. I put my hands on my lap as they tap my thighs, enith looks away to look at me but I was fast enough to look away.

"You should get ready for the feast," Enith started after a moment, she stood going over to the gown I picked out earlier today at the table, "Very cute gown, my lady." She compliments admiring it as she takes it in her hand, "A cute gown for a beautiful princess." She turns smiling at me.

I smiled back with a less beaming one like Enith, I always feel a tad bit embarrassed and thankful when Enith compliments me. She reminds me so much of Valaena and Alyssa, they like my aunt and alyaena always had this power to make me feel noticed. They make me feel included and seen, if it wasn't for them I have no doubt everyone else will forget about me.

I'm grateful for that. Because sometimes I forgot about myself too, sometimes when no one haven't talk to me for a long period of time I forget that I'm a girl and sometimes imagie myself as a ghost. I remembered roaming around the castle passing by old paintings or statues of dragons and the decease, going into vacant rooms just to linger and move on.

I don't know why I always felt that way, it wasn't like everybody in the castle didn't like me, they just forget I was there sometimes. My fault mostly, I didn't speak a lot or to a lot of people and do much of anything outside my chamber, I was closed off like Maekar but not as scary or gloomy like him.

I always had Alyaena to play with and thay was enough for me, but the more I grew and aly started trying new things, I started realizing how much I hate being a ghost. When I found i was going to get married ro aemond, half my thoughts was a filled with worries while the other half was filled with glee thinking getting married would be a great way to do more and get seen.

And I was right for a while, aemond noticed me, he "liked" me but it was all a lie. I thought I would grow into a woman like my aunt rhaelle, beautiful and strong, but all i became was weak and useless. Being lied to, cheated on, and losing the only light that made it possible to live in this dark didn't turn me miserable or bitter like I thought it would. It rather made me sensible and shrewd to my surprise, all because of enith, she was there by my side through it all, she always felt like a big sister watching over me, deep down in some way I don't know how to explain it...but she saved me.

「 ⊹₊♚₊⊹ 」

"...can you believe what happened between Lord Myre and Lady Flint," Whispered Lady Shiphard to the other women as I stand in circle with them.

The other women gathered closely to her with a mixture of curiosity and contain excitement in their eyes as they whispered back to her to tell them, I stand like I usually do with a bored look, out of the huddled circle of ladies watching from the sidelines with Enith and Ser Krey behind me.

I care little for their gossip, since it just them being plain mean and bad-mouthing the other ladies of court.

What I always forget to mention to my dear husband about my new "friends" is that they are twice my age and not my friends but his mother's pets who enjoy causing others misery and picking at dead things...like vultures.

They just like Alicent or rather Alicent is just like them, since they were three older woman who looks to have been alive since king jaehaerys's reign while the other four was a bit close to be the queen's age.

"...Let's just hope this one lives." Lady Rosby spoke.

I look up at them as they nodded their heads in agreement, while standing apart looking at each other.

"Yes, hopefully...but.." Lady Weaver started as she look from her nails to the others, "You all know how much I adore Sosan, she's a sweetheart, but I don't believe she's make the best mother," She shrugged with her shoulders nonchalantly, "I mean, look at how she handles her step children, not one of them speaks with her with a ounce of respect like they did their mother." Lady Weaver shakes her head in dismay, she pause what she was going to say next as a servant came with a glasses, after every lady took a glass I receive my own, "I'm not saying this to be rude but the gods are clearly doing her a favor not giving her a child..." Lady Weaver speaks as she twirl her wine, "...not every woman can be patient and strong like us, this new line of women are becoming too soft for my liking." She said with a lofty tone.

Lady Weaver was around the queen's age maybe younger, she like every other lady in this group was traditional and like how things are. She believe men should provide while women should support, which is not surprising or unrare to hear, but she also thinks man should only rule and that woman shouldn't be given the power to do so. So, I can only imagine while she told me these things for the first time we meet that she didn't like me or like the idea that my mother was going to be queen of the seven kingdoms after Viserys's death.

"Urg, don't I know it, my own daughter-in-law can barely disciplined a 6 year old," Lady Clarick shook her head with an unkind chuckle before she take sip from her wine and whispered, "But, I shouldn't be surprised, I know my son didn't marry her for her looks." She chuckle making the rest of the women to follow suit.

I could only roll my eyes and scoff in my cup as I empty it without a thought.

"Are you alright, princess?" Asked Lady Weaver.

I brought the cup away from my lips and look at the group of women staring at me with scornful looks, Lady Weaver had a small smirk on as she wait for me to answer.

"I-I'm fine," I dismissed quickly.

"Are you sure? It sounded like you had something to say," Lady Weaver comment making me pull a face.

"No, I was just...clearing my throat," Lady Weaver hums as she sneer at me.

"Oh, my mistake." She says with a coy look before turning her attention to another.

I gave a eyeroll and turn away from the group of woman, I glance at Enith and Ser Krey before walking away without a word to the circle of vultures. I hear enith and krey following behind me as I make my way to the table where the king and his family sat watching or drinking during the feast. I took a seat next to viserys on his right side while the queen sat on his left, aemond was here a moment ago but it seemed like he left as I scan the floor, aegon was already drunk nursing his thirteenth cup as he sat between his mother and sister-wife.

Enith push my seat forward before disappearing, she came back a minute later with a pitcher and pour me some wine. I thanked her before I started on my second cup, just as I sip I hear a chair scrap against the floor before footsteps, in the corner of my eye I see Alicent's blurry form pushing her chair in.

I pray she wasn't coming to talk to me, alicent has a way of making you want to drink yourself to an early grave to put it nicely. I rather end the night slightly buzzing, rather than impair to the point where I can't walk on my own.

Thank the gods above, my prayers were answered, alicent walk pass me and my seats to make her way to the floor, before I could celebrate I felt a cold hand on top of my hand making me glance down to see a old pale hand that looks to belong to the stranger himself. However, it belonged to the king which made me glance at him with confusion written on my face only to find viserys gazing at me.

"How are you liking the feast, my child." He said as rest in his seat.

I couldn't help but look at him surprised, he never acknowledged me like this before or talk to me. So, I glance around taking me a moment to respond to him.

"Oh, um, It's...It's nice," I replied with a small smile, viserys's smirk in return.

"I'm glad to hear it," He stated blink at me, I smiled again before looking away thinking he was finish, "Did you see the platter of your favorite savories I had the servants make?" He asked making me do a double take at his words.

Hmmm?

"You..." I stopped myself as too many questions form in my head, it took me a minute to collect my thoughts before picking the question I wanted to ask first, "...You order the servants to make me my favorites?" I questioned unsure.

Viserys nods with a bright smile, "Of course, I know how you love your sweets," I look at him half impress as he recount about having to tell Alicent what he wanted at the feast for me, "...I always forget is lemon cake still your favorite," I couldn't help put smile widely and nod my head.

Viserys gives me a knowing smile before beckoning a servant forward and requesting a slice if lemon cake, the servant did a quick bow of the head before leaving quickly only to return back just as fast with a plate with a slice of cake. He place it in front of me and viserys before stepping back, viserys and I smile at each other before grabbing our forks and digged in.

I couldn't help but hum in delight at the taste, it felt like forever since I had lemon cake. The last time I could remember having it was right around the time aunt rhaelle and her children moved into dragonstone castle, it was the third week of us all living there and the same night we had lemon cake for dessert, was the same night baelon and jacerys snuck down into the caves.

"So, how was your day today, must be nice to get out of that room." Viserys asked as he shakily feeds himself, "I heard you went into the city, was it nice?" He asked again but this time his put down his fork and put all his attention on me.

I felt my face drop along with my stomach in fear, I swallow down the lemony sweet cake as I set ny fork aside, I could only imagine his disapproval on me socializing with the children in fleabottom.

"Oh, yeah..." Was the only thing I could muster up as I took a napkin and wipe the corner of my mouth, "...are you mad?" I raised my brow at him.

"Of course not, I know how you like to venture around the city. I only be mad if you didn't take a guard with you." He says rubs my hand, "Otto also told me how you like spending your free time helping the smallfolks, that's nice." He confessed making me pull a face before fixing it.

No doubt hearing it from his daughter, who no doubt heard it from her son. Who must he tell that woman everything?

"It is?" Viserys nods his head.

"They are the reason I am king, they are the ones that keep things moving along. You know I always thought the smallfolks play a important part in the kingdom." He express.

I never knew he felt that way, I am curious what he would say if I asked what been on my mind for a while.

"I'm happy you said that because I was thinking...maybe we should slow down on the feasts and think about putting our efforts in fleabottom." I vocalize nervously, "...more so thinking about building a home for the abandon children." I add looking at him.

Viserys was silent which made me even more nervous, he look away from me with thoughtful look.

"No more feast?" He said to himself.

"No, no. Moreso limiting them," I suggested, "Rather than throwing one every two times a week, you can do twice a month." My grandsire looked back at me with an unreadable look.

"Hmmm, I think that's a good idea..." I smiled, "I would have to talk about it with the council and your husband, knowing him he will not be happy about that." He whispered the last part to me making my face drop.

I look away with a frown to stare at the sea of people, I glance around before pausing to see Aemond with Alicent. I watch them as they talk, I could see aemond was upset and his mother was comforting by rubbing his arm like she always do to show affection.

"Are you mad at me?" I turn away from the prince and his queen-mother to look at my grandsire with a shock look.

"What? No, no...why would you ask me that?" Viserys frown a making me grow confuse even more, "Are...Are you made at me?" I asked back, viserys frown deepen at my questions.

"I can never be mad at you, my dear." he said squeezing my hand making my heart swell a bit, "I only ask because...you haven't came to visit me in a while." He said with a hurt tone, making it my turn to frown at the king.

"Oh, I didn't...I didn't think you want to see me, given--"

"Of course, I want to see you, my love. I always do." It was so odd to see my grandfather show so much love and adoration towards me that I never seen before.

"If that's true. Why do you treat me so differently then?" I couldn't help but ask that question, viserys glance around for a second before leaning in.

I do the same curious to know what he was going to tell me.

"I do not mean to do it...but you know how emotional she can be, if I am not on her side then she gets a bit difficult to talk to..." He states. I pull back I wanted to ask who he was referring to but he continued on, "And you know aemma, rhaelle, she like you and my daughter and every other woman in our house...are stubborn to the bone." He slaps the table as he chortle.

I lean back. What he said throw me through a loop, i was more confused than I was before as I stare at him dumbfounded.

Did he think I...was rhaelle?

Questions. Many questions formed as I thought about it and before I could ask one, a brush against my cheek had me snapping back to reality just as a cold hand rest on my cheek.

"Rhaelle" I look to my grandfather looking him in his violet gloss over eyes, "Are you alright? Do you wish to retire to our ch--" Viserys stopped when I was snatched out of my chair by my arm.

I look at Alicent as she stare at viserys with a scowl, she turn her angry glare at me before hissing in a low tone.

"Your husband is here, you should go to him." Alicent's grip on my arm tighten at each word she spoke, I wince before glaring at her just as she turn us before letting go of me.

I lost my footing and before I could fall, a pair of hands caught my waist. I look over my shoulder to see Aemond looking down at me with a glum look, I right myself before looking at Alicent as guards help viserys out of his seat.

"It seems the king is feeling unwell," Alicent says nonchalantly before turning to aemond and I, with a small smile, "But, do not let that damper your mood, you should go and have fun. Dance. I think the ladies and lords would enjoy it." she said in that sickly sweet tone.

"But, grandfather--" I look pass her to see the maester following close by with the guards and the king.

"Will be okay, all he needs is his poppy's milk." She says making me look back at her, she took a step closer with square shoulders, it took like she's trying to be intimidating, "Now, go run along and enjoy the feast." I narrow my eyes at her at the condescending tone.

She gives me a look, before I could say a word I felt a hand on my wrist.

"We will, mother." Aemond spoke from behind me.

Before I knew it I was being dragged away from Alicent, I look over to find Alicent talking to Enith and Ser Krey making me furrow my brows in questions when I made eye contact with Enith.

Something didn't feel right, I felt like I was outside looking through a window inside with how viserys was acting and how alicent acted. And I think my body agrees with how much my gut has been fluttering and my head feeling light, so much was happening and I wanted to know what.

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outtoshatter · 4 months

Text

today we are spotlighting the wonderful @elisela! She has so many lovely fics to choose from!

Bite Sized:

workday mornings | G | 631 tags: domestic fluff, alternate universe Summary: “Then we have the thing at six,” Stiles calls out, setting his coffee cup on the island before hastily removing it and wiping the ring of coffee it had left behind before it sinks into the marble and causes a permanent stain. He glares down at his damp hand, sets the cup on a dish towel he probably should have hung up the night before, and crosses to the sink.

half of my soul (as the poets say) | G | 920 tags: alternate universe, long distance, fluff Summary: He yanks the pillow next to his over his face and gropes for his phone on the nightstand. “Siri, call Derek,” he directs, voice scratchy. Calling is such a familiar motion that he could probably navigate the screen without looking at it, but the last thing he wants is to mess up and be forced to talk to someone else at 4:36 in the morning.

thirty-six | G | 541 tags: alternate universe, established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort Summary: "Do you know how it feels to have someone change their whole life just to make you happy?” Derek asks. Stiles takes a cautious step into the room, plate of sandwiches in hand, but his husband doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are fixed on the opposite wall, staring at the mural so new that Stiles swears he can still smell the paint.

follow through | M | 606 tags: college, professor Derek, coach Stiles, established relationship Summary: The force with which Stiles slams the paper down on the desk causes a coffee cup to rattle on its coaster, and he takes a moment to despair that he’s in love with an idiot who insists on using coasters despite the desk being treated like garbage by every professor who had used it for the past thirty years.

Not right now, though. Right now, he’s decidedly not in love, and most definitely pissed.

hold you through | G | 956 tags: emotional hurt/comfort Summary: Derek’s fallen asleep again.

Over 1k:

Almost nothing | E | 2k tags: porn without plot, smut Summary: Sometimes it takes almost nothing—

—Derek’s hand will close around his hip, Stiles will kiss him and fist a hand in the back of his hair, tugging until Derek’s head is tilted up and he can bite down in the junction of his shoulder.

—Stiles will crowd up against Derek while he’s doing dishes, or folding clothes, slinging an arm around his waist and playing with the button on his jeans, and Derek will reach behind him and pull him closer.

wild about you | G | 1k tags: human AU, meet cute, sports Summary: Derek scowls at her even as he accepts the corner of the poster, gingerly, even though he knows he’ll be covered in pink glitter within two minutes. The edges are tattered from being crushed in too many hands, crepe paper flowers smashed against the glass in front of him often enough that they’re pressed flat. Everything about it screams it was made by Allison’s kindergarten class, except for the careful bubble letters perfectly centered: Marry me, Stiles Stilinski.

West coast swing | G | 1k tags: alternate universe-sports, developing relationship, fluff Summary: Somewhere in the air over Colorado, Derek gets cold feet.

here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed | T | 7k tags: canon compliant, post-movie, fix-it Summary: Stiles doesn’t go home right away.

The urge is there—when he answers the phone to Lydia’s shaking voice, when he gets the text from his dad, when he stares out at the sun glowing soft peach and golden over the buildings in D.C. and he thinks about Derek never seeing another sunrise. It’s there weeks later when he gets a check from the Estate of Derek Hale, when he crumples it up and throws it in the trash, when he fishes it out an hour later and tries to salvage it by weighing it down with a book from the Hale vault.

It’s there, it’s there, it’s there.

Stiles doesn’t listen to it.

Because Stiles isn’t going back to Beacon Hills to say goodbye.

mountain man | G | 1k tags: bookstore, getting together, fluff Summary: “Mountain man is here,” Scott whispers in his ear, hands gripping Stiles’ shoulders as he carefully moves behind him in the narrow space. “Biographies.”

Bonus- Over 10k!:

you can wear my sweater (if I can have your heart) | T | 12k tags: sports, hockey player Derek, soccer player Stiles, alive Hales, fluff Summary: “It’s fine,” Stiles says, but he stops at the bottom of the porch when Derek closes a hand around his elbow. His scent is evening out, mellowing from humiliation to embarrassment, and his heart skips a few beats when Derek touches him. “Really, I misread everything. Jordan said—” he stops, again, and Derek has to stop himself from asking because what Jordan said isn’t the most pressing issue.

“I thought you were joking,” he says, keeping Stiles’ arm still even as he starts to pull away. “Whatever Jordan said, he didn’t tell me. You’ve been teasing me for weeks, I didn’t think this was any different.”

Stiles turns to face him, and this time when he pulls his arm back, Derek lets go. “I’ve been asking you out for weeks,” he says, a thin trace of amusement through the resignation in his voice. “It’s fine, dude, just a misunderstanding. I’ll stop.”

Go check out elisela's AO3 page, where she has even more terrific fics to choose from! Remember to mind the tags, leave a kudos, and maybe drop a comment!

#sterek #sterek fandom #teen wolf #author spotlight #elisela #derek hale #stiles stilinski #spotlight saturday #i am so sorry i didn't post this yesterday #i forgot what day it was

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

Lance knows the tradition. And as much as he often rolls his eyes about doing things just because “that’s how it’s always been done”, there are some things about it he really loves. Someone on their knees, in front of friends and family in some beautiful location, asking you to give them the honour of marrying you?

Absolutely fuckin’ dreamy. Lance would love that shit. He would be unashamedly riding that attention high for years. He used to daydream about it, to; talking to his siblings when they were up late, painting their nails and talking shit about whomever for fun. He knows he’s definitely explained ad nauseam his preference for a pretty diamond ring placed on his finger to the backdrop of the sun setting on the waves.

But, as it always does, life does not go according to plan.

His faceless daydreams were only fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with them — fantasies are fun, and can even be a basis for reality — they just didn’t match up with where he ended up! At no point in his life could he ever have expected to fall so deeply in love with the man he’d sworn so vehemently to hate. At no point could he ever have predicted being swept up into a war beyond his greatest comprehension with that man at his side, or to lead a war with that man. He could never have predicted the softness that would bloom between them, the gentle moments that would be just as frequent as the intense competitions.

Honestly, he never could have predicted Keith. Who could have? Keith is… he’s just so much. Of everything. There’s not a single thing he does that he doesn’t do with his whole heart and soul. He cares so deeply and intensely; his love is so all-encompassing… sometimes Lance lies in bed and is rendered breathless by the force of it; of him. He can scarcely believe that he is so lucky, that the universe aligned so carefully, that he has the chance to love Keith and be loved by Keith, in every day and in every way.

It’s a lot. It’s everything, really.

And so that’s why it has to be perfect. Away with the small crowd of friends and family, with the public space and pomp and circumstance — as much as Keith loves their family, and loves indulging Lance (seriously. What Keith wouldn’t do to make Lance happy… it makes Lance giddy just to remember it. He is so, so fucking lucky. He scored), Lance knows he values his privacy. Hell, it took nearly an entire year for anyone else to know that they were dating. Not because Keith was ashamed of him, or because either of them were afraid, but because Keith kind of likes to keep things to himself. He likes it when it’s just him and Lance, when they have inside jokes and secrets and moments that are just theirs.

Lance likes it too, frankly. Plus, there was nothing funnier than the pure outrage on all of their friends’ faces when they realised they’d been blind to Keith and Lance for eleven whole months. Truly a moment Lance has cherished.

All this to say that Lance has been preparing to finally ask Keith to be his husband. He’s told no one — not even Hunk — but several weeks ago he measured Keith’s ring size as he slept, and worked carefully with a jeweller to design something he knew Keith would love. That was the easy part. The harder part has been carving out the right time in both of their schedules; a time when they can give each other their full attention for long enough that Lance can do the asking and then have some time after for… ahem, celebrating.

(Lance has been looking forward to that part especially.)

But finally all the stars aligned — the two of them had a week off after spending three months on a Balmera with restoration efforts — and Lance can put his plan into motion.

The first thing he does is send Keith on some random errands. That buys him a few hours to set up the alcove by their front door — a collage of pictures of them over the years, pinned artfully to the wall; bundles of Keith’s favourite flowers, poppies and California lilies and sunflowers and desert roses; and perhaps most ostentatiously, a goofy banner that Lance hand-painted with the magic question. Is it elegant? Not really. A little tacky? Possibly.

But although Keith would rather surgically remove his tongue than admit it, he eats this shit up. He grew up with Shiro, for Christ’s sake. The man as watched every romcom ever made, and loves them all to pieces. Lance has watched 10 Things I Hate About You with him more times than he can physically count.

Once he’s satisfied with how the alcove is set up, he digs the velvet box out of its hiding place, tucking it carefully into his jeans pocket and settling into the truck to go pick up Keith.

If Lance was following his daydreams, they’d both be dolled up to the nines and heading to some fancy restaurant. Instead, Lance is wearing his dark red shirt that he knows makes Keith cross-eyed and his good jeans that make his legs look long. He knows that Keith is wearing his favourite flannel and his rattiest pair of converse, which Lance has had to literally patch back together because Keith refuses to throw the damn things out.

It fits better, somehow.

“Where are we headed, Casanova?” Keith asks, after trying (and failing) to convince Lance to let him drive. (As if. It’s Lance’s turn. The schedule says so and everything.)

“Surprise,” Lance says vaguely. He glances as surreptitiously as possible into the backseat, making sure that he did, in fact, remember to pack the food and the blankets.

(He did. He has also checked fourteen billion times. He is, although he knows it’s silly, the slightest bit nervous, apparently.)

“C’mon,” Keith prods, sliding a free hand into Lance’s hand. “Can’t I get a hint, baby? Just a little bit?”

“I am trying to drive. Keep that shit up and we’re gonna crash, you walking distraction.”

Keith laughs — cackles, really — but pulls his hand away.

“Loser. If I drove, you could distract me all you wanted and we’d still be fine.”

Lance reaches over blindly to grab Keith’s hand back, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the tops of his knuckles.

“Not a chance, babe.”

———

When they finally make it to their destination (after an hour of Keith complaining about the drive, trying to convince Lance to tell him where they’re going, and switching through every available radio station twelve thousand times before he’s satisfied), Lance throws the truck in park and practically sprints to open Keith’s door before he has the chance.

“Dork,” Keith teases, flicking him on the nose as he hops out.

Lance grins. “You love it.”

“You’ll never prove it.” He takes Lance’s offered hand, then looks around. “Where are we?”

Lance hums, carefully swinging the backpack he brought over his shoulders and tugging Keith away from the truck.

“Well, you see, my boyfriend is this massive nerd,” he starts playfully. Keith rolls his eyes, grinning.

“Nerd, you say, as if you don’t have alphabetized samples of cool rocks from every planet we’ve ever been on.”

Lance ignores the jab, plowing right on. “And because he is this massive nerd, I figured he would appreciate frolicking through the desert until we come to a decent spot, then eating this dope ass dinner I made for us —” he pats the backpack — “while watching the meteor shower that’s supposed to be visible tonight.” He grins widely at Keith’s excited gasp. “I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before a million times, but I thought it’d be nice.”

Keith says nothing, using their joined hands to yank Lance towards him and kiss him soundly.

“Sounds good to me,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to Lance’s lips, his jaw, his throat.

“Keith,” Lance says, breathless. Like everything with them, this has rapidly escalated off-course.

Why are they like this, again?

“We’ve got an itinerary, babe, we’ve gotta — oh, God, do that again.”

He feels Keith’s smirk against the hollow of his throat. “Wouldn’t be the first time we messed our plans in favour of the truck bed, sugar.”

“Itinerary,” Lance tries again, weakly.

“Truck’s right there,” Keith reiterates.

Lance has a lot of discipline, okay?

But Keith is convincing. He knows exactly which buttons of Lance’s to press.

And, if Lance is being entirely honest, he loves indulging Keith as much as Keith loves indulging him.

———

Their food goes cold.

“This is your fault,” Lance says, pointing a fork at the perpetrator in question. “I had this hot and ready to eat, and you stubbornly decided to be a distraction, you dick.”

Keith is entirely unapologetic.

“There was something else that was hot and ready for me to eat,” he says, looking pointedly at Lance’s ass and grinning wolfishly.

Lance smacks the shit out of him with a pillow.

“You are a dog!”

He’s laughing, though, as he says it, so it doesn’t quite have the desired effect. Keith has no qualms with teasing him right back, either, both of them spending as much time eating as they do roasting each other.

God, Lance cannot wait to put a ring on this bitch. The meteor shower better hurry the fuck up so Lance can take them home and get down on one knee, already.

As soon as Lance thinks it, Keith gasps, grabbing Lance’s arms and pointing at the sky.

“Look! It’s starting!”

It’s slow going, at first, barely one flash of light every five minutes, but eventually shooting stars are racing through the sky as thousands of rocks burn to nothing in Earth’s atmosphere.

Lance nudges Keith’s side. “Bet you’re wishing that Hunk brings another dozen eggs to the next diplomatic meeting to throw at people when they say stupid things.”

“There’s no way you knew that!” Keith protests immediately. “I must have spoken out loud!”

“Nope! I just know you, baby.”

“Well, I bet you wished that Allura and Veronica will finally kiss this month so you win the betting pool!”

They spend the rest of the meteor shower like that — frantically shouting out what they think the other wished after each star that shoots by. They’re both right a good half of the time, too.

It makes something warm and fiery ignite in Lance’s belly, to have someone who knows him so deeply. Without even talking about it.

It’s the best thing Lance could possibly wish for.

———

By the time the meteor shower ends, they’ve eaten their food, and it’s something like three in the morning. Keith yawns every few minutes, and doesn’t even bother with the radio on the way home, simply resting his head on the window and closing his eyes for a while. He doesn’t fall asleep — his hand is tangled with Lance’s, and his thumb runs constant lines over the backs of his knuckles — but he’s too tired to be fully awake, either.

Not Lance. Lance feels like he’s buzzing, the breeze from his cracked-open window the only thing keeping him from going supernova. He’s so excited he can barely breathe.

When they finally get home, Lance rushes again to open Keith’s door, who grins tiredly at him and presses a kiss to his cheek before following him inside. Lance takes a deep breath before opening the door, stepping quickly to the alcove and grabbing the ring from his pocket as Keith walks in.

Aaaannd… right past him.

Lance’s jaw drops. Keith is so tired he doesn’t even notice the newly decorated alcove, or even Lance — he simply walks to the kitchen with their picnic supplies. Lance hears him hum as he starts to put their dirty dishes in the dishwasher, their leftovers in the fridge.

“Lance, babe,” he calls, “do you care if I eat the last of the pan frito? It’s better fresh.”

Lance glances down at the ring. He barely holds himself back from cackling with laughter, because of course Keith is so distracted that he didn’t even notice Lance down on one knee.

“How about you come in here for a second, first?” Lance responds, voice shaking with amusement.

“What? No, come here if you want some! I’ll share, but I just mopped the floor yesterday, I don’t want to get crumbs all over it.”

“Keith,” Lance tries again, “come here for a goddamn second, will ya?”

“Alright, Jesus,” Keith grumbles. In what Lance assumes to be spite, he takes a couple minutes, before he finally turns the corner and sees Lance for the first time.

His freezes, the dishtowel he was carrying flutters to the ground.

“L-Lance? What’s going — what —”

“I have a question for you, sweetheart,” Lance says. He grins teasingly. “Would’ve asked earlier, but you walked right by me.”

“Oh my God.”

“You paying attention, now?”

“Oh my God!”

Before Lance can blink, Keith rushes forward, tackling Lance to the ground and pressing kisses all over his face; anywhere he can reach.

“Yes! Yes! Yes —”

Lance sets the ring in his lap so he can grab Keith’s frantic, fluttering hands.

“I haven’t even asked yet, babe.”

“Well, get to it!”

Lance snorts, but complies. “Keith Kogane,” he says, smile softening and gaze steady. “Will you marry me?”

Keith laughs, holding his left hand out to Lance, his right hand wiping the tears that have dropped down his cheeks.

“Yes, Lance McClain, I will marry you,” he chokes out. Lance grins brightly as he slides the ring up Keith’s fourth finger. The second the ring is in place, Keith smashes their mouths together, knocking Lance flat on his back.

He doesn’t mind.

It’s way better than a traditional proposal, anyway.

———

based on this video (ninth slide)

#that video made me LAUGH and i thought about Them immediately #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #established klance #marriage proposal #fluff #banter #adhd keith #keith has adhd #tall keith #my writing #fic #longpost

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letmeapologise · 8 months

Note

trent request where reader and him are best friends and she gets engaged and he confesses his feelings for her bc he doesn’t want to see her marry someone else

❝ 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 ❞

.ೃ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ! 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐞 𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝-𝐭𝐨-𝐛𝐞. 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞. 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 ✰ ´ˎ˗

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⌇ 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐯𝐲. 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭. 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜, 𝐧 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ੈ✩‧₊˚

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⌇ 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

ೄྀ࿐ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⌇ 𝟒.𝟏𝐤 !

↳ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 ! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐤 𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐜𝐥. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 𝐋𝐎𝐋. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 “𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬! 🫶” 𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐢 𝐯 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮 𝐬𝐦. 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 !

YOU WOULD CALL IT THE HAPPIEST MOMENT OF YOUR LIFE, so far, that was. You predicted that the happiest moment of your life would surely be your wedding day. When your boyfriend, now fiancé, got down on one knee in a fancy restaurant you had already forgot the name of, too caught up in your tear filled eyes ready to make a puddle on the ground. You said yes, of course, practically leaping into his arms while he raised the ring box away from you to ensure you didn’t crush it in your grasp.

“Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes!” you squealed, laughing as he picked you up in his arms. It had been a beautiful day, let alone a beautiful evening; today mimicking this as well. A vase centred on a white clothed table near the middle of the premise, collecting more and more flowers and custom bouquets by the second; most of which by your husband’s family.

You felt like nothing could go wrong in your life anymore, everything was set out for you. Your parents approved of course, who would deny such a perfect future husband?

And yet amidst it all, when Trent walked in, you couldn’t help but feel like you made a mistake. A lingering headache emerging and your throat restricted at the sight of him, you hadn’t seen him much due to misunderstandings involving yourself and him that aroused the suspicions of your fiancé; who demanded you no longer spoke to him, you accepted his request, but still did so every now and then.

Looking through your phone and your messages with your best friend while your then-boyfriend raked leaves in the garden, you glanced at him through the kitchen window. When he rolled over and faced the wall when you were both in bed, you would do the same, submerging yourself in the covers, ears pricking up and heart rate increasing with paranoia. What if he saw? What would he suspect?

Nothing was going on between you and your best friend, it would be rude to suggest otherwise. Yet here he was, decked out in a navy blue suit that practically shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the open windows, you grinned at him slyly, hiding behind the giant vase until you were beckoned over by your mother who waved her whole arm at you.

“Yes?” you asked, wondering as to why she brought you over, a group of people surrounding you. Your mother, your husband-to-be, and your future mother-in-law, who smiled politely at your presence. Your mother gazed up and down at your outfit appreciatively, her hand on your back endearingly, rubbing it up and down and giving you a side hug.

“We’ll have to start getting used to each other,” she laughed with your fiancé’s mother, who gave her a toothy grin, almost cackling with laughter. Your mother seemed to suddenly remember she had called you over and then gestured between you and your fiancé. “So, how did he propose?” she turned to face you, leaning in and smiling widely.

You opened your mouth and then your husband looked down, grinning to himself. “Outside of the Guy Savoy in Paris.” Your mouth closed. That was it, the Guy Savoy, you remembered the restaurant name and reminded yourself to keep a mental note of it in case anyone else asked, it would be a bit embarrassing if you didn’t know where you were proposed to.

“How lovely!” his mother admired. “Did you see the Eiffel Tower?” your mother inquired, you nodded vigorously. “It was so pretty, you and I should definitely go sometime mum, I think you’d love it.” Your fiancé shrugged. “It wasn’t too interesting,” your mother looked him up and down, giving him a dirty glare and half-scowled at him into the rim of her wine glass.

“Sorry, be right back,” she pursed her lips, heading towards the direction of the toilets. The group paused all conversation momentarily until your future mother-in-law gestured towards your hand, eyeing it. “Let me see your ring,�� she asked. You smiled courteously and held your palm flat out in her direction.

Her hands wrapped around your palm helping you steady it, leaning in a bit. “Sorry, poor eyesight,” she chuckled, you laughed until she stepped back up straight. “Wow, what a beautiful ring. Fitting for a beautiful lady!” she complimented and you gasped in false surprise, grinning at her. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Did you choose it?” she questioned, you glanced at your husband until you felt another voice enter the conversation, one that didn’t sound like your mother but much more like the person you did not expect to interact in any capacity near your fiancé.

“If she had chosen the ring, it probably would’ve been a haribo,” you scoffed, laughing. Trent tapped on your hand now by your side which you brought up to his vision, he held onto it, nodding at you and then a quick glance at your husband. “Nice, very nice,” he commented.

“Where’d you propose?” he looked your fiancé dead in the eye, you almost seized up. “Paris,” he replied, not giving him the detail he had previously given to your mother. Trent chuckled. “You should’ve just gone to Pizza Express, she’s never gonna turn anyone down there,” you slapped his arm, giggling to yourself and then retracting it upon seeing your fiancé frown in dismay.

His mother deadpanned at the scene, mouth half-agape as if in thought before retracting herself as well. “I’m just going to excuse myself as well,” she waved you off, smiling, the corner of her eyes wrinkling.

“Pizza Express?” your fiancé questioned, eyes flickering between you. “What’s that?” Trent’s eyes darted to yours in shock, side eyeing your fiancé as if he had just killed someone in front of you, jaw halfway onto the floor. He then narrowed his eyes at him interrogatively. “You haven’t taken her to Pizza Express?” he said, too calmly for his wild eyes, seizing on any little opportunity presenting itself to him after your fiancé said a little mistake.

“We have been,” you chuckled to yourself, nudging your fiancé to ease the tension just a little bit. “We went for our first date. Remember?” he stared at you, eyes blinking as if to recollect himself. “Oh, yeah. That place.” You thinned your lips.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked you, not bothering to look at Trent. You shook your head, grinning at him with uncooperative eyes that refused to do the same. “I don’t drink, baby. Remember?” he hummed. “Yeah.” Trent wasn’t smiling, or laughing, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw him looking so gloomy; in fact, you weren’t sure if his face had even moved, fixated on you with an inexplicable expression that seemed like he spoke to you without using any words. You’re making a mistake, it said.

Your fiancé coughed, trying to regain control over the conversation, placing the wine glass he had just downed on a nearby table and then flapping his hand around at you. “Can I speak with you?” he inquired, side eyeing Trent. “Alone?” he added, pursing his lips. Trent slowly walked off, looking at you every now and then in a way that screamed. What are you doing?

“I thought I told you to not speak with him anymore?” he leaned back against the table behind him with his wine glass on. “I know, baby, we haven’t I just—“ he hissed at you. “People will get suspicious, it doesn’t look good for either one of our reputations. Looks like you’re spending more time with a random man than your fiancé.” You raised your hands in mock surrender then jabbed a finger at him.

“He’s not a random man, first of all. We’re friends, have been since we were kids, ‘kay?” he rolled his eyes, but nonetheless you continued. “We know what we have, you know I would never cheat on you. You don’t have to worry about anything, babe,” you leaned back into your submissive role of the caring and doting girlfriend.

Your husband began talking to you again, to your face, not to your ears. You were barely hearing a thing, too focused on Trent and your mother talking just outside of the toilet entrance, silently watching you both and playing it off by looking at one another again and resuming their supposedly fake conversation, you assumed.

She liked Trent more than your fiancé, she didn’t even try to hide it. Why wouldn’t she? She had known Trent longer, you were both childhood friends and as she called it you were both ‘glued to one another’. You couldn’t even describe the disappointment on her face when you announced to her earlier in the week that you had been proposed to.

“Did you say yes?” was the first thing she clinged to, you nodded through the FaceTime call. She grumbled something under her breath and that was it for her, the finality of it all. It was something about a bet she and Trent’s mum placed on the two of you since primary school that you two would end up together. When she mentioned it off-handedly you would always wave it off and dismiss her, rolling your eyes as you did so.

Then he came into the picture, this new man, that wasn’t Trent. She had admitted to you, when you asked why she seemed so unimpressed by your engagement announcement, that there was nothing wrong with your fiancé. At least that’s what she would say to your face, glimpses of her chat with Trent’s mum suggested otherwise. But you didn’t talk with him like you did with Trent, you didn’t spend nights laughing until you couldn’t breathe with him like you did with Trent.

It’s like she was set on this childish agenda of a relationship between you and her friend’s son, and her world had come crashing down. You had no doubt she would have the same dismayed reaction to a child or anniversary, anything not to do with Trent. You would pay to hear their gossip filled conversation right now, and not get an earful from your fiancé droning on in front of you about who you should and should not be seeing or speaking to. You tilted your head back at your fiancé before placing your hands comfortably on his shoulders. “Gonna go to the toilet,” you nodded at him, walking to the gaggle of people now hidden from view by the toilet entrance.

They stopped their conversation when you appeared, your mother scratching your neck. “Baby, are you–” Trent cut her off, pulling you out of view by a hand on the small of your back, all your fiancé would be able to see now without getting closer was Trent’s back hunched over something. “What are you doing with him?” he quipped, eyes narrowing. You frowned, widening your eyes. “What do you mean, we’re getting married?” he shook his head. “With him, he hasn’t even taken you to Pizza Express. Why hasn’t your future husband taken you to your favourite restaurant?” your mother side eyed you both with tearful looking eyes, concerned, and sat down on a nearby table just out of earshot with her head in her hands.

“Fuck, he doesn’t even know you don’t drink?” he looked away, hiding the disgust on his face, and then back at you. “Is it money? Do you need money?” he asked. “What, Trent, no!” you exclaimed. “What is it then? What do you like about him?” he interrogated before fixing his question. “What do you love about him?” he added. You grumbled something under your breath and he held his head lower to you in an attempt to hear you. “Say it again.” You said nothing.

He glanced over at your mother and then pushed you into the mens’ toilets. “Trent, I can’t be in here, this is the mens’!” he waved you off, locking you both in a cubicle. “Is he just an easy option, makes your life a bit less difficult?” you pursed your lips, looking down. “He’s nice,” you mumbled, Trent scoffed. “Am I not?” it just slipped out his tongue, you furrowed your brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you looked up now.

“Could I not make your life easier?” your mouth fell agape. “What does he have that I don’t?” you stared at him in shock. “Trent, what are you–” he wiped his face with his hand, breathing deeply and wetting his lips. Your mind raced, you were locked in a cubicle in the mens’ toilets with your best friend at your engagement party, telling you how he was better than your fiancé.

“Listen, he’s a rich prick. I’m not even trying to be rude here, but he doesn’t deserve you. You are so much better than him,” he almost spat. “My life’s already set out f’ me, Trent, he helped me do so much. I’m going to my dream university this september.” Trent gave you a pensive look.

“Since when have you cared about university? What happened to the academy?” you didn’t know how to respond, looking down at the floor and the little space between you and Trent, your eyes watered and you pulled the toilet seat down to sit on it. Trent crouched down to be at eye level with you.

“I left the academy,” you whispered, on the verge of weeping. “He said it was too manly, I don’t know how to leave him, Trent, my whole life’s gonna change if I do,” you squeaked out, Trent raised a finger to your face and wiped away a tear threatening to fall down your cheek, both his hands on your shoulders and arms, rubbing circles into them. “Hey, hey. You’re okay, don’t cry,” you pouted at him.

“I’m not okay, Trent, I’m gonna get married soon. Everyone around me thinks it’s a mistake, I’m starting to think it’s a mistake, I can’t stop it. I don’t know what to do.”

Trent hugged you, brushing your hair away from your face until the door to the toilets squeaked open, you both almost got whiplash turning your head so fast at the sound. He held a finger to his lips, gesturing for you to keep quiet as he moved himself around so it looked like he was sitting on the toilet with no one else in the cubicle with him. Then you heard your fiancé.

“Hello?” Who else’s in here?” he asked, you glared at Trent, he ignored you. “Just me,” he shouted out, and you swore under your breath, wanting to slap him if it wasn’t for the sound that would come off of him. You heard your fiancé stop in front of your cubicle, the sound of his heels clicking halted. He coughed. “You seen her?” Trent frowned behind the door.

“Who?” he questioned. He scoffed. “My fiancé.” Trent was now burning daggers through the door, and you were covering your own mouth with your hand to stop breathing loudly. “Ivy?” he reiterated. “Nope,” Trent quickly added.

Then the footsteps started again, travelling towards the door and slowly fading out of the toilets. You heard your fiancé huff, and the faint chatter outside between him and your mother until that died out as well.

Trent turned around again, stood upright this time, and grabbed your hands as if pleading with you. “Don’t marry him, please.” He looked down, biting his lip. You looked down at him, his head now resting on your knees in silence apart from the occasional flushing you could hear from the womens’ toilets opposite. “Trent, I can’t, I can’t just say yes to being married and then call it off.” He frowned, looking up at you. “Yes, you can.” You grumbled something under your breath. He audibly gulped.

“Marry me instead then.”

Your eyes widened. “What?” he continued. “Okay, maybe not that soon,” he nodded, chuckling to himself under his breath. You tilted your head. “Forget I said it.” You shook your head at him. “No, what were you going to say, Trent?” he shook his head. “I thought we were best friends, best friends tell each other stuff. Come on, tell me.” He laughed, rolling his eyes and half-grinning at you when he finally looked up, his breath hitching again.

“I love you, I have for as long as I can remember. I haven’t said anything ‘til now ‘cause I was happy just being friends with you, didn’t wanna ruin that. But now you’re marrying some random guy who doesn’t– who doesn’t even take you to your favourite restaurant, doesn’t know you don’t drink, does he know your favourite chocolate? Does he know about the dance routine you made to single ladies at three in the morning? Did you even choose the ring? Does he even know your favourite colour?” he sputtered out.

Your heart was pounding, eyebrows raised, mouth agape and you were paralysed. “That’s too specific, Trent. That’s unfair on–” he exhaled deeply. “He’s going to be your husband. He should know everything about you. Even the things you don’t know about yourself!”

“Trent, I– don’t know what to say.”

He looked down again, mumbling. “Don’t say anything, just don’t marry him. You don’t even have to give me a chance either, just don’t marry him. Don’t waste your life like this.” You wiped your face with your hand, huffing all the air from your cheeks out to the side of the cubicle and nodding down at him, getting up.

He opened the stall door for you, and you slipped out the toilets while behind his back, acting as if you came from the direction of the womens’ conveniently at the same time as him.

You saw Trent shrug at your mother with a tucked in upper lip. She sighed. You walked past them both before sitting on a secluded table by yourself, noticing that the vase on the centre table had grown in size and had likely been replaced by a bigger one to hold the flowers that were previously lying around it covered in packaging.

You looked down at your hand, pointing your fingers flat out and fiddling with the ring on your finger, sliding it up and down before itching your hand upon seeing someone come towards your table, your fiancé, yet again.

“Hello, darling,” he said, sliding himself onto the chair next to you and scooting it closer, wrapping his arm around you and kissing your cheek. You pursed your lips, putting on your best cheerful smile. “Not right now, babe,” you politely smiled, slinking his arm off your shoulder and backing up away from him a bit.

You were sure, if you looked hard enough out of the corner of your eye, the corners of your mother’s lips rose just a bit. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to meet a few of my colleagues, at Goldman Investments,” he nodded, smiling curtly at you as three of four men decked out in black suits, blatantly ignoring the colour theme – the only thing your fiancé allowed you control over – and you realised you had enough.

“I said, not right now, babe. Sorry,” your tongue poked your cheek. He pulled you towards him again, trying to kiss your cheek. “It’ll just take one second,” he commented, and you stood up. “I said no.”

He stood up as well, turning around and holding up a hand to the businessmen approaching your table who laughed and chuckled amongst themselves, stopping in their path with half-empty glasses of wine and beer in their hands. “Trouble in paradise!” one of them yelled, booming with laughter.

You marched off. “Don’t follow me,” you said in your most calm angry voice you could muster. He, however, didn’t try to keep a level tone. “I’m your fiancé!” You turned in your step, swivelling around on your foot, and thinning your lips. You jabbed an accusatory finger at him before retracting it regretfully. “Not anymore.” He scoffed, laughing. “What? Is this a joke?” he slapped his chest.

“I get it, ‘cause I’ll be your husband, right?” you shook your head, looking down. “I-” you paused. “I- don’t want anything to do with you, you don’t know anything about me and you don’t care to find out either. You asked me to marry you at your favourite place, not mine. You only care about yourself.” He glared at you, your bottom lip quivering as he turned more hostile.

“Did Trent put you up to this?” he almost growled at you, stalking towards you predatorily. “Oh, so now you know his name?” you could’ve laughed. “I thought he was just some random man?” you shrugged at him.

He glanced around the room as if trying to find Trent, scowling to himself, his bottom lip curling over and threatening to spit everywhere as if he was an animal. “No,” you spat. “He didn’t do anything, I did it myself, you however seem to think I’m incapable of doing anything myself. You don’t let me attend the football academy I was going to – you don’t even know what it’s called, I won’t bother with that – and you won’t let me plan my own wedding, let alone the ring or the engagement party.”

Yet, still, he seemed to completely block out the sound of your voice. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch,” that was the final straw for you, and you strided up to him faster than you ever think you’ve walked in heels before, your whole arm thrashing against his cheek in a slap that echoed throughout the room as a large cracking nose.

At this point Trent had jogged up to you at the sight and volume of the commotion, blocking you off from your fiancé who seemed like he was finally affected by your input and ready to hit you. At the sight of Trent he almost circled you both like prey.

His colleagues behind him watching, but not joining your fiancé once they saw Trent throw off his blazer onto a nearby table, rolling up his sleeves. You backed up a bit, Trent walking backwards and remaining in front of you. Your now ex-fiancé paused in his step, hot air coming out of his nostrils as if he was a dragon ready to breathe fire, burn this whole place down. You tilted your head at him from behind Trent, almost laughing at yourself for even considering the possibility of marrying this man – this boy – it was laughable.

You smiled at him, then moved slightly to the right of Trent just so you were in his sight, Trent twisted his head around at you. “What are you doing?” he whispered, you didn’t respond, just yanked your ring off your finger and threw it in his direction. Your mother was giving you a toothy grin and your ex-fiancé’s mother was in shock with her brows raised and eyes widened. You shot him the middle finger, and the commotion that had gathered around or onlookers for afar gasped as you slowly walked out to the exit, Trent following you shortly after.

You had made it to the carpark, Trent’s car conveniently being the closest to the venue, leaning on the door. Trent spotted you and started giggling, you laughed alongside him; both of you just in hysterics as you held onto him for support or risk collapsing onto the floor from laughter.

“Okay, stop laughing. I can’t breathe, you’re gonna make me laugh more. I can’t believe I’ve just done this,” you put your hands on your head, Trent scoffed, opening the door of his car for you.

“Bet your fiancé never did that for you,” you shook your head. “Fuck you, he did,” Trent scoffed, rolling his eyes. “But it's ex-fiancé now.” Trent grinned from ear to ear. You hummed for a moment as he started driving, him glancing at you through the car’s mirror. “I can give us a try,” he smirked, poking his cheek with his tongue. “Really? You sure?” he looked back at the road, then at the mirror, flickering between them both until he reached a red light and could finally look at you.

You nodded. “Just don’t tell either of our mum’s, they’ll be over the moon,” you huffed with laughter. Trent scoffed. “Your mum was the one that told me to go for it,” he laughed, you facepalmed, grinning. “Of course she did.”

୨୧ @𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ୨୧

#✰ letmeapologise ´ˎ˗#✰ letmeapologise works ´ˎ˗#imagines #writing #football #f/o imagines #football imagine #liverpool #trent alexander arnold angst #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander imagines #trent x reader #trent alexander arnold #taa #taa66 #trent aa #trent alexander x you #trent alexander arnold fluff

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Text

A Man Obsessed With The Stars, A Women In Love And A Little Boy Named Atlas.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

word count - 4.1k

in which, stargazing in the back garden of your house with your husband and little boy, brings back many memories, ones that you’ll never forget.

It was a warm summer evening, the air was warm and the sky about you was clear and full of an array of stars. You and your husband of four years, Harry had decided to take your three year old son Atlas out into the backyard of your Los Angeles home.

A blanket was situated on the floor of the garden, some snacks and a pair of binoculars on standby.

"That one is called the north star," Harry explained, using his pointer finger to point up at a particular bright star. "It's like a compass for the sky"

Atlas, looked up at the sky, eyes wide with wonder, a few brown curls falling in front of his eyes. "Wow, the sky is so big!"

He was the perfect replica of his father.

The brunette curls, the bunny teeth, the cheeky dimples indenting the sides of his cheeks and the most beautiful green eyes that you constantly fell in love with.

You smiled, casting a glance over at your energetic three year old, feeling completely grateful for the moment you were currently experiencing. "It is big, and there are a lot more stars up there."

As the three of you laid there, talking softly amongst yourself, pointing out different constellations that you were getting educated on due to Harry, you felt a sense of peace and contentment. The stars were stretched about in the sky above you, reminding you of the universe and the beautiful life you lived.

Harry, your husband was the one who first taught you about the stars.

He had taken you to an observatory on your six month anniversary.

"Did you know that stars are actually just giant balls of gas?" He told you, hand holding onto yours. "And that they're so far away that it takes light years for them to actually reach us."

You shook your head, amazed by what you were learning, and as Harry continued to talk, you could feel yourself slowly growing more and excited.

The next few hours, he continued to teach you everything that he knew about stars, he showed you how to find the north star, and explained the different phases of the moon to you and as he talked, you felt like you were seeing the night sky for the first time.

As the night slowly wore on, you started to get cold, little goose pimples appearing on your arms from the night time weather. As you let out a tiny shiver, you felt your boyfriend pull the blanket tighter around you.

"Are you ready to head home?" Harry asked, peering down at you from where your head was resting on his shoulder.

You nodded, feeling extremely grateful for the experience you just had and all the fascinating things you just learned.

As you drifted off to sleep that night, you felt a sense of wonder seeping into your veins, a sense that you hadn't felt in a very long time.

Thanks to your amazing boyfriend, you had discovered a whole new world.

"Look, mommy!" Atlas's little voice broke you out of your trance, he was pointing at a shooting star, making you look at it as well. "Did you see that?"

"I certainly did," You answered him, matching his excitement. "Did you make a wish?"

Atlas nodded his head, his face instantly going serious. "I wished for a puppy."

You let out a small laugh at his words, you knew this moment shared between Harry, yourself and Atlas, was a moment you would treasure forever.

Atlas then proceeded to snuggle up against his father, his head resting against his chest, you wrapped your arms around them both, wanting the feeling of holding them close, surrounded by the sweet scented flowers around you and the slight rustling of the leaves in the humid air.

As Atlas continued to grow tired, he yawned and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

You and Harry shared a look, and the both of knew that it was time for him to start heading to bed if you didn't want a grouchy toddler tomorrow morning.

Although, it was bittersweet, you didn't want to interrupt the blissful moment you were all sharing.

"Daddy?" Atlas murmured, his voice soft.

"Yeah, Atty?" Harry replied in a voice equally as gentle as his son's.

"I'm sleepy." The three year old answered, his green eyes starting to droop.

You smiled down at him and leaned forward to press a kiss against your son's forehead. "It's okay little man, you can fall asleep right here with us."

Atlas snuggled up against you both, his head now resting against your shoulder, Harry's arms now wrapped around the two of you, they sat there in the garden, continuing to watch the stars continued to appear, and the moon rose high in the sky.

As Atlas drifted into a peaceful slumber, Harry and you shared another look once again, offering each other an adoring smile. You both knew that no matter what was to happen in the world, you would always have this moment, this love and this connection.

It made you think of the time you found out that Atlas was going to be a boy, it was one of the best experiences of your life.

You and Harry had eagerly been anticipating the gender reveal party that his sister had planned for weeks. All of your closest friends and family had been invited, Gemma had spent hours decorating the back garden with balloons and streamer with the help of his mother Anne.

As the party got into full swing, you couldn't help but feel just the tiniest bit nervous. You and Harry had already decided that you wanted to find out the gender of your baby, but knowing you were actually going to find out was filling you with an anxiety you never knew you could get.

Halfway through the party, Gemma had made sure that you and Harry were stood right in front of the guests, holding a large box full of either pink or blue balloons.

Harry turned to look at you, "Are you ready?"

"I'm ready."You answered him, slipping your fingers through his as your voice started shaking.

Harry, who was holding the box, took a deep breath and finally opened the box.

Blue balloons were all you saw, they were floating up into the sky and your guests erupted into gleeful cheers.

"It's a boy!" Harry cheered, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Tears of joy were streaming down your face as you continued to hug your one true love. "I can't believe were having a son!"

Atlas's thumb was hooked inside his mouth and his head was now positioned so it was resting on the shoulder of his father.

Atlas.

The name of your entire world.

His name was certainly a hard one to pick out.

You and Harry had been trying to pick out names for your unborn son all week; every name you both suggested, just didn't feel right, your eyes had skimmed through countless lists of baby names and baby books, but nothing seemed to feel like the perfect name.

You and Harry were sitting in the living room, surrounded by baby books, you couldn't help but feel a little bit discouraged, due to the fact that you couldn't find a name that was perfect.

You wanted to find a name that was unique, but nothing seemed to grab your nor your husbands attention.

"I don't know," You sighed, continuing to flip through the book resting on your baby bump. "None of these names feel right at all."

"I know what you mean," Harry nodded his head, feeling a little bit frustrated at the situation as well. "I feel like we've looked at every name in the world and nothing seems to be jumping out at us."

You let out a defeated sigh. "I just want something that will feel like it'll suit him, something he can grow into."

Harry leaned back against the couch, tilting his head up so that he was looking at the ceiling. "What about something earthy? Like Atlas?"

"Atlas?"You sat up as best you could with a 32 week baby bump and looked at your husband with intrigue littering your face.

"Yeah," Harry nodded his head, feeling a little bit nervous. "I know it's a little unusual but I think its a strong name, it sounds like something that'll suit him."

You let the name ponder in your head for a second. "It's a big name to live up to."

"I know," Harry looked a lot more relived now at your tone of voice. "But I think he can handle it, he is a styles after all."

You looked at your husband, feeling a little bit awed. "Okay, let's do it, let's name our son Atlas."

"Really?" Harry grinned at you, looking a little bit emotional.

You couldn't help but feel a little bit emotional to, "I think it's perfect."

As you started gathering up the blanket at the picnic basket, you felt a sense of gratitude, thanks to the stars, they had brought you all closer as a family. Reminding you of the wonder of life.

As you both walked inside, Harry holding your fatigued toddler, and wrapped an arm around you. "That was really nice, I'm glad we did that."

"Me too," You answered him, feeling extra closeness to the man who had captured your heart. "It's nice to just spend time together as a family and enjoy the beauty of the night."

Walking up the stairs, Harry had now moved his arm so that you were holding hands and he started talking softly. "Do you remember the first time we went stargazing?"

You smiled at him. "Of course I do, it was on our first date."

Harry chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I remember it like it was yesterday, we went up to your roof and stared at the stars."

Your first date.

Oh, it felt like it was yesturday.

You nervously walked into the trendy restaurant, scanning the room for your date. As you looked around, you saw him sitting at a table near the back, his curly hair falling in front of his forehead.

"Hi." You made your presence known as you approached the table he was sat at.

He looked up at the sound of a voice, his green eyes locking onto yours. "Hey there."

As he pulled the chair out for you to sit down at the table, you couldn't help but feel a little star struck, you had definitely been a fan of Harry's for years now, and you simply couldn't wrap your head around the fact that you were going to be having dinner with him.

As the date between the two of you progressed, you realised just how charming, funny and down to earth he actually was. He asked you questions about your life, what interested you and you found yourself opening up to him in a way you never had before.

As the meal came to an end, Harry leaned across the table, his eyes once again locking onto yours. "I've had a great time tonight."

"Me too." our cheeks flushed as you looked back at him.

As the two of you walked out of the restaurant, thankful that no paparazzi had caught onto the fact that you and Harry were on a date, Harry took your hand and entwined his fingers through yours. "Can I see you again?"

You nodded your head, feeling a sense of happiness. "I would love that."

Over the next few weeks, your dates with Harry just seemed to get better and better and after each date, the night always ended with the two of you falling asleep under the stars.

"It was so romantic," You pondered, warmth escaping your body. "I remember feeling like I was onto of the world, knowing that I got to go on a date with Harry Styles."

"You're still on top of the world." Harry told you, looking at you lovingly.

"You're so sweet." You watched as Harry adjusted Atlas in his arms, so that he was now cradling him, cuddling him closer to him as you walked into the little boy's room.

It instantly made you think about the first time you saw him hold his son in the hospital room.

Harry looked down at his new-born son for the first time, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was now a father, and that this tiny, perfect little boy he was cradling in his arms was now his to love and cherish forever.

"Hey there, little guy," He whispered, "I'm your dad, and I promise you now that I am always going to be here for you, no matter what."

The baby yawned, and snuggled closer to Harry, his heart swelling with pride and joy. "You're so beautiful, I can't get over how perfect you are."

Harry stroked up and down the baby's soft cheek, looking up at you who was watching the two interact. "Thank you, thank you for giving me this perfect gift."

You smiled at him, and reached out to rest your head on your husbands shoulder, the tiredness finally catching up to you, the stiches in your lower stomach aching. "You're going to be the most amazing dad, ever."

The singer felt a sense of peace wash over his figure as he continued to hold his son close to him. He knew that being a father would be the most challenging but rewarding job in the world, but he was so ready for the challenge.

He glanced down into his son's wide eyes and realised that no matter how big he got, he would always be his little boy. He would love him for as long as he could, he vowed to be the best father he could ever be.

Anne and Gemma had come to visit you in the hospital the second Harry had said that it would be alright.

Telling the duo the name of your new-born son was a special moment that none of you would forget any time soon.

Atlas,

The boy who had captured your heart the second you set your eyes on him.

As you head your new-born son in your arms, you looked up to see Harry's mum and sister walking into the room, this was a moment you desperately wanted to share with them.

"Come and meet your grandson and nephew." You smiled, watching as they got closer and closer to you.

"He's beautiful." Anne complimented, reaching her hand out to touch at his tiny hand.

"Have you decided on a name yet?" Gemma quizzed the two of you, looking at her brother and you.

You glanced at your husband, who you could see was fidgeting with his wedding ring, a clear sign that he was nervous.

You watched as he took a deep breath, a sense of pride filling his chest. "We're going to be naming him Atlas Robin Styles."

There was a moment of silence that filled the room, as Gemma and Anne looked at each other, processing the name that they had just heard.

"Robin?" Anne repeated the name, eyes instantly welling with tears. "His middle names going to be Robin?"

Harry nodded his head, a lump forming in his throat. "Yeah, me and (Y/N) couldn't think of a better name for him to have, it's the only way we could honour him."

There were tears in everyone's eyes as you talked about Robin, reminiscing on the good times you all shared with him, thinking about how much he meant to Harry and his family.

"Robin would be so proud." Gemma was wiping away at her tears, as Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Can we read a story?" Atlas was now awake in his room, the second Harry had tried to settle him down in his bed, he woke up straight away, not liking the fact he wasn't in the comforting arms of his father.

He was a daddy's boy through and through.

"Of course we can, munch," You agreed to his request, walking over to grab a book from his book shelf. "What one did you want to read?"

"Green eggs and Ham!" Your son shouted, grinning at you excitedly as Harry tried to get him to calm down.

Your husband was settled in next to your son, holding the book open as you read aloud to him.

As the story slowly progressed, Atlas's eyes slowly started to droop for the second time that evening, and soon enough he was snuggled up against your husband, his breathing slow and steady.

Being the son of a global superstar, moments like this were the ones you needed to cherish the most.

Most of the time, Harry would be doing interviews, so that meant he would be away from home quite a lot, whether that be in the studio or at the gym, or even touring the world.

But that didn't mean that everything was smooth sailing.

You and Harry both agreed that when Atlas graced the earth, you wanted to wait until he was of a responsible age to show his face to the world, but until that moment you would be protecting his face with everything you could.

But with his fans lurking around every corner, things just didn't turn out right.

Especially when taking a friendly walk down the street, or even walking through a park.

As you and Harry strolled through the park, joy filled your bones at the feeling of the fresh air entering your pores.

Your one year old son was sleeping soundly in his stroller, and the sun was shining down on the two of you on this lovely summers day.

Harry was wearing a white coloured t-shirt with blue writing on the front of it, a green cardigan thrown over his shoulder and a pair of ripped blue jeans hugging his legs, a mask covering his face.

You were wearing one of Harry's shirts matched with a pair of cycling shorts, some white air force and a mask covering your face due to the current pandemic.

But as the three of you continued to walk, you noticed out the corner of your sunglass covered eyes that a group of people were staring at the two of you from a distance, and as you got closer to them, you could tell straight away that they were here for your husband.

"Excuse me," One of them said, stepping forward and blocking the path you were walking down so that you stopped and had to talk to them. "Can we please take a picture with you?"

You looked at Harry, a sense of slight panic hitting you. You had been in quarantine for the first part of Atlas's life, so no one got to see his face, you and Harry both mentally agreed that they weren't going too see his face now.

"Sorry, maybe not today," Harry let them down softly, trying to keep his voice calm and level headed. "We just wanted to come out on a walk with our son, sorry."

The fans were having absolutely none of it, they were persistent, they kept on asking for selfies and autographs, and each time that Harry tried to politely decline, you could slowly see the panic behind his eyes.

"Please, we just want to say hi." Another fan spoke, stepping even closer.

You looked down at your son, who had the blanket brought up to his face involuntarily in his sleep as if he knew, a sense of protectiveness filled you, you weren't ready to expose him to the public as of yet.

"Sorry, but were just not taking any pictures today," Harry explained to them, and by the tone of his voice, you could tell that he wanted this to be the final time he tell them.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the fans realised that you and Harry were not going to be giving in any time soon, so they walked away, making you breath out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for handling that, baby." You spoke to him as you continued on your park walk.

Harry grabbed a hold of your hand and kissed the back of it. "Anything for my family."

"G'night, little man." Harry whispered, pressing a kiss to his sons warm forehead.

Atlas pouted his lips slightly. "Night, night, daddy."

You and Harry then proceeded to tip toe out of the room, leaving your son to his peaceful dreams, as the two of you walked down the hallway, you both looked at each other and smiled.

"Another successful bedtime." Harry looked at you and grinned.

As you and Harry headed into bed, after getting changed and completing your night routines, you both climbed into your double bed, both letting out a yawn.

"I'm tired." You yawned, rubbing at your eyes.

"It's been a long day." Harry chuckled, bringing you closer to him.

"Y'know, I was thinking," Harry turned to look at you, his arm resting on your waist. "We should plan a trip to the beach this summer."

You smiled at him. "That sounds amazing, I haven't been to the beach in ages."

"Great, I'll start looking for places tomorrow," Harry nodded, leaning forward to kiss you softly.

"I love you," You murmured as a sense of warmth hit your body like a truck.

"And I love you," Harry smiled, before letting out a small laugh. "Y'know, I always sleep better when your next to me."

"Same, here." You informed him, giggling like a school girl.

You had me Harry when the two of you were twenty-one, he had his iconic long hair, and you still had a bit of a baby face.

Four years into dating, he proposed, and you got married the following summer.

The proposal was definitely unexpected.

Due to you and Harry's obsession with the stars, Harry had booked for the two of you to come here for your fourth anniversary. As you walked through the different rooms, he would point out all the different telescopes.

"Look at that one," He said, pointing to a massive telescope in the centre of the room. "It's the most powerful one in the entire observatory."

You walked over to the telescope and bent down so that you could look through there eye piece, eyes instantly falling onto a collection of stars.

Suddenly, Harry took your hand and pulled you away from the telescope. "Come with me."

"What's going on?" All you could feel was a sense of anticipation.

Harry stopped walking, you heard him suck in a small breath before he turned round to face you and got down on one knee.

"Ever since I met you, I've known that you were the one for me," He began, his voice wavering slightly. "And I can't imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else, will you do my the upmost honour of marrying me?"

You gasped, feeling tears instantly wet your eyes.

"Yes," You threw your arms around his figure, when he stood back up to his normal height. "Of course I will!"

As the ring got slipped onto your finger, you felt Harry's heart beating wildly against his rib cage, his heart beating rhythmically against yours.

It was one of the most amazing moments of your life.

Your head was laying against his shoulder, when you felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over you.

"Ugh," You groaned, throwing your head back slightly as you clutched your stomach.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, eyes squinted as he ran a hand up and down your arm.

"I don't know," You spoke, feeling a little bit dizzy. "I think I may be coming down with something."

Harry sat up slightly, looking at you with concern. "Do you want me to come and get you some water?"

"No, I'll be okay, I think," You told him, taking a deep breath. "Actually, there's something I need to tell you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Another deep breath fell from your lips, your heart racing. "I'm pregnant..."

For a moment, Harry just stared at you, his eyes wide with shock as what you had just told him, then a huge grin overtook his facial features, and he let out a soft gasp of joy.

"Really?!"He asked, pulling you even closer to him. "That's amazing, m'love."

"I found out this morning." You told him through teary eyes.

"We're going to be parents to two?" Harry wisped, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. "Atty's going to be the best big brother."

When Atlas was born, your nerves were through the roof, he had to be removed from your womb via C-section due to the fact he was breech.

As you laid on the operating table, your turned your head to the left and saw your husband say on a chair next to you, wearing his own hospital scrubs, his hand was holding yours and squeezing it tightly.

"You're doing absolutely amazing, m'love," Harry kept reassuring you as the surgeons got everything ready. "I'm right here with you, every step of the way.

"I'm scared," You felt a tear roll down your cheek, feeling completely overwhelmed with the whole situation. "What if something goes wrong?"

"Don't think like that," Harry told you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your slightly sweaty forehead. "Nothing is going to go wrong, you're going to be fine, and so is our baby, I promise."

As the doctor's began to work, your felt your husbands hand in yours the entire time, holding on tight. You felt a little pain, but it was nothing compared to the joy you felt when your heard your babies first cry.

As the doctor's lifted the baby boy up so you and Harry could see him over the blue curtain that was draped over your mid section, you felt tears of joy streaming down your face.

Harry leaned forward and kissed your lips. "He's perfect."

"Thank you," You turned to look at your husband, feeling completely overwhelmed, completely grateful for his support.

He smiled, taking a hold of your hand. "I love you, and I love our baby boy, and I'm so glad that your both okay."

The love and support of the one man who had captured your heart was all that you could ever ask for.

"It's going to be a wild ride." Harry giggled, "But we're in this together, and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

As you drifted off to sleep that night, you could feel Harry's arms wrapped around you, holding you close, you knew that no matter what changes lay ahead, you would always have today, the love and this beauty to hold onto.

#harry styles #harrystylesxreader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles writing #harry styles headcannon #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #dad!harry #dadrry

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gloryhrs · 10 months

Text

━━ ⟡ 𝓒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐆, shunsui k.

✿.*･｡ ꒰ 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 — r. & shu are happily married! ◝(^◜◡◝^ )◜, pet name usage — hubby, kitty, my dear, shu being an extreme romantic, r. is part kitty! /ᐠ . ˕ .マ, smth short n' sweet until i finish my kenpachi & ichigo os! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ ꒱

“Kitty, where are you?" The captain of the 8th division Shunsui Kyoraku walked the corridors of the Seireitei, waving the bell. The man had been looking for a you for nearly ten minutes and didn't want to sleep without his darling husband by his side, so he kept ringing the bell. He thought it was strange because you could hear and smell him from a mile away.

“Aw, man, did he fall asleep without me?” The captain's shoulders slumped with sadness until he heard the sound of footsteps. “There he is!” When he sensed a familiar presence approaching, he instantly turned around and opened his arms for the man, who turned out to be you, his husband. You smiled and quickened your pace as you saw your husband's arms wide and ready to catch you. “Shu!” You laughed as you wrapped your arms and legs around his neck and nuzzled your face against his cheek, causing him to laugh and return the hug.

The captain kissed your forehead with a tiny eye squint, as the amount of sunshine radiating from you was astounding. “Kitty! I thought you went to sleep without me.” You shook your head, your ears swaying with you, while the captain faked a pout. “You know that I can't sleep without you. You’re my giant teddy bear!” You nuzzled your head into his cheek once more, making a small purring sound. When he noticed your charming demeanor, Shunsui swore he felt something pierce through his chest.

“Did you bring any cake?! I can smell cake!” Your eyes twinkled as you smelled the air for the scent of strawberry deliciousness. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Jushiro made some, so I bought one for you and me.” He laughed again when you leaped out of his arms and started bouncing on your toes. Shunsui knew you liked strawberries, so whenever he saw something strawberry-related, he would always get it for you. That explains why your ring is red!

When the captain took out the plastic container containing the pink frosted strawberry cake, your eyes sparkled even more. “Ah! Shu, I love you!” You jumped back into his arms, almost knocking him down in the process. As he stood and accepted it, you held and kissed his face ceaselessly; the feeling of your soft lips against his skin made him feel like he was in heaven.

“I love you even more, my dear hubby. But we should leave because I'm still meant to be working on the paperwork Nanao gave me earlier.” The man scratched the back of his neck, the thought of Nanao discovering him and chewing him out sent shivers down his spine. You watched as the man turned around and knelt down slightly, beckoning for you to climb on his back. He didn't have to tell you twice! You jumped on his back with ease and kissed his cheek one last time.

The tree shade remained over the couple as they slept comfortably, without a care in the world. Shunsui buried his face in your hair as the wind blew through his gorgeous brown hair. The pink flowered kimono was draped over you and his shoulders, with him frequently fanning away the butterflies that flew around your ears with his straw hat. The man slept into your soft h/c hair until a familiar sensation pricked his nose, causing him to awaken and sneeze.

“Eh?” He observed your h/c ears twitching when he looked down. Shunsui's heart burst out of his chest when he watched you nuzzle your nose into his chest before flicking your ears once more. He moved one of his hands up to your scalp, giving it a light scratch. Your purring could have put anyone into cardiac arrest. “How adorable.” The man commented as your luscious lips snorted peacefully. Because you and he were both busy people, you would constantly slip away to your favorite hiding locations to nap and eat your favorite snacks.

You were the most handsome thing in his eyes. From your soft brown skin that was little to no scars, your soft hair that blended in well with with your adorable cat ears, and your soft but fierce ( e / c ) eyes that he loved staring into. Ah, he still can’t believe you chose to marry someone like him. The man was too busy admiring your beauty that he didn’t notice you had already woken up. “Hm? Is there something on my face?” You rubbed your eyes while he watched you touched your cheeks and nose. He chucked, “No, I’m just admiring how beautiful my husband is.” He gave you a lazy smirk, his thumb stroking the crumbs off the corner of your lips.

You smiled before crawling onto him, now straddling his hips. Shunsui raised his eyebrow before a pervert like smile appeared on his face. “Oh? Are we gonna get busy? Don’t worry, I’ll let you be in charge this time.” He smirked as your cheeks warmed up, causing you to pinch his cheek making him hiss in pain.

“Will you stop that Shu!” You continued to pinch his cheek as you waved his hands around in a surrendering motion. Once you let his cheek go the man rubbed his face with crocodile tears leaving his eyes. “My dear kitty doesn’t love me anymore! What shall I do?!” The man whines dramatically as you snickered and rolled your eyes. “Don’t be such a baby, Shu. You were the one who was having a negative mindset! Who the hell wants to get busy out in the open like this?” You sighed and pinched your nose as Shunsui muttered something under his breath. You tilted your head, “Hm? Did you say something?” You narrowed your eyes at your husband who had a pervy smile on his face. "Me, besides—we’re pretty far away from everyone—" "Don’t even think about it!"

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minecraftbookshelf · 3 months

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MOS: Specific Breakdown of Language Barriers Between Couples

So I do have the posts on what languages everyone speaks, grouped by Oceanic, WRA, and Fae squad and about 98% of that is still accurate, I just kind of wanted to do a post that summarizes how language plays a role in each marriage/relationship within the AU.

In Chronological Order:

Lizzie & Joel: At the time of their initial marriage they had absolutely zero languages in common. They are one end of the language barrier spectrum. Joel began learning to understand (even if he couldn't really speak) Oceanic out of pure self-preservation. One of the early overtures in their marriage was actually Lizzie chasing down Pixlriffs and demanding he teach her some Mezalean. (Pix has been way more involved in several relationships than he was ever really interested in, send help.) By the time it gets to "current day" they are both fully fluent (within physical capability) in each others' native languages and also share several other languages in common. They absolutely use these powers for evil.

Joey & Xornoth: At the time of first meeting, they didn't have much in common linguistically. Joey was fresh out of isolation with only a few words of Mythlandic that he'd picked up from his first encounters with Fwhip and Xornoth had no knowledge of the language of the Lost Empire. Joey basically force-formed a sort of pidgin of mostly Mythlandic and his own language for them to communicate in, though as time goes on it acquires more Elvish words and structures. He mostly flirts in his own language, which does mean he can get a bit more...graphic in public than he would otherwise be able to be, because most people don't speak it outside the borders of his empire. Xornoth is suffering. They're learning each others languages but also this is a pretty new relationship so they are still very much in the learning stage. Joey does also struggle with Xornoth's accent in particular.

Jimmy & Scott: Technically they have a language in common, as both of them have at least a decent fluency in Mythlandic. However they learned their Mythlandic in very different ways. Scott has learned his entirely from reading books (with occasional help from Xornoth on pronunciation which means some of his words have a bit of a Helianthian twang to them) so he tends towards more formal speech and has a very strong accent on top of that because he hasn't interacted with native speakers and is guessing half the time. Jimmy had a little bit of a formal education in the language when he was small, but most of his fluency comes from border trade, border skirmishes, and yelling threats back and forth with Sausage (and Fwhip). They'll get there eventually, but it'll take them a bit.

Katherine & Shrub: Shrub is a completely blank slate, linguistically, when they first arrive. Zero languages in common with anyone. They meet Joey and Katherine and begin learning. Katherine, in addition to teaching Shrub both Silvan and Mythlandic, is also learning Gnomish from her. By the time they start tentatively approaching a relationship, the language barriers are mostly gone. It just means they have to focus on some new vocabulary they hadn't really had a reason to encounter before.

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shanastoryteller · 8 months

Note

Happy Pride! Can I get some trans content<3

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45

He can’t be pregnant.

The curse mark on his arm tells him that he is living in this body on limited time. Eventually, he will die, the string keeping him inside Mo Xuanyu’s body snapping like a string and sending him back to wherever she summoned him from.

He’d let himself forget, a little. The body he inhabits is so different than the one he woke up in. He’s made her stronger, grown her golden core into a fearsome thing, worked and worked muscles until they swelled and hardened.

It had begun to feel like it belonged to him, liked he’d carved his body from Mo Xuanyu’s. The differences from his old body hadn’t felt important, and still don’t, it’s about how this is the body he worked for and made from the one given to him.

But Mo Xuanyu is dead and her body isn’t his to keep.

If he wants to have this baby, then he must betray Mo Xuanyu and her sacrifice. If he wants to bring Lan Zhan’s baby into the world, he cannot kill Jin Guangshan.

Completing the mission she retrieved him for will sever the connection and he will die again and so will the life he’s growing.

His only hope is that maybe, maybe the thread binding him here will hold long enough for him to both deliver this child and kill Jin Guangshan.

He looks from Jiang Yanli to Jiang Cheng, their fierceness and determination the closest he’s felt to home in a long time. He shouldn’t be letting them do this, shouldn’t be sinking into the comfort of their protectiveness when they think he’s someone he’s not, but he can’t help it. It makes him feel even sadder for Xuanyu, to think that they would have done this for her, if only she’d let them. Hadn’t Jiang Yanli reached out to him that very first day while he was a confused and terrified mess? And here she is now, offering to shield him from his husband, offering to help Mo Xuanyu choose her own path and either continue the pregnancy or have it end here.

He takes a deep breath, trying to stem the flow of his tears. Jiang Cheng’s hands on his shoulders feel like the only thing keeping him in place, like he’s pressing Wei Wuxian’s spirit into place in Xuanyu’s body.

He presses a hand against his stomach, thinking of the life shifting in his womb as the first lotuses that had sprouted from muddy mountainside. If he could grow flowers in the burial mounds, he can grow a child in a borrowed body.

But does he want to?

This isn’t what he’s here for. The best case scenario is that he leaves Lan Zhan behind to raise a child alone, the husband and child of the woman who murdered a clan leader. The worst case is he leaves Lan Zhan behind to mourn a wife and child and he dies without avenging the wrongs done against Mo Xuanyu. Or he can end this here, remove the potential child from the equation and kill Jin Guangshan as subtly as possible, something he has the time to arrange when he isn’t pushing his connection to this world to the brink. Then Lan Zhan will only be the widower rather than the husband of a murderer.

There are no good choices.

But he’s used to that.

He breathes in, holding it at the top of his lungs and letting out slowly.

A-Yuan had been the brightest light in the burial mounds. Anytime he wavered, aching for the life and the people he left behind, it wasn’t Wen Qing or Wen Ning of Granny who hardened his resolve once more, but A-Yuan.

He’d loved being a parent. He’d wished he really could grow siblings for A-Yuan like he’d grown turnips.

Wei Wuxian’s legacy is one of failure, of loss, of destruction. All those he tried to protect fell. All those he had protected turned against him. The last thing he will do on this earth is kill again, even if it is a man who has earned it.

He does not want to leave behind a legacy of only terrible things.

It could all end horribly. But he’s always been foolish enough to hope for better than he has.

He finally meets Jiang Cheng’s steady gaze.

“I’ll talk to Wangji.”

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

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lqtusxtearz · 10 months

Text

Florist

Summary:

A florist in their hometown is known for being kind and cheerful. A large luminous hexagon emerges in front of their business one night, and a tall guy, Miguel Ohara, enters and hands them a flower. They are taken aback and inquire whether they are Y/N Mendoza. Miguel is taken aback and asks if they may stay in his store for a bit to repair his gadget. They become friends and spend time together, behaving as though they are married.

They finally fixed his gadget after a month of being with Miguel, and he doesn't want to go. Miguel informs you that he must return because someone need his services. You don't take it well, but you also don't make him stay with you. On

You are a florist in your home town, and you are well known as a kind and bubbly person.

You are an average person who takes care of the flowers until one night, as you close your shop, a big glowing hexagon appears right in front of your shop. You were about to scream, but a big man who is around 6'9 tall who would not freak out when there's a man come out of the portal and just covers your mouth to prevent you from screaming? The tall man shook you and forced you two to get inside your shop, and you were just standing there looking at the man with petrified eyes. He saw this, and he sighed. He walks toward you and gives you a flower that you are not familiar with. You look at him, confused, and he looks at you, waiting for you to take the flower. You take it and look at the tall man and ask, "What are you? Who are you?" you said to him, not taking your eyes off him. You might now know what this man's intention is, so you grab the nearest thing that you can hold and just hold it. In the meantime, he saw this and sighed, "By any chance you are Y/N Mendoza?" You were shocked because he knows your name. You raise an eyebrow, looking up and giving him a judgmental look, and shake your head as a no. He groans, nods, and looks around. He checks his thing on his wrist, and you look at it confused. He grumbles in Spanish and is pissed, causing you to get scared and raise the thing that you held minutes ago for defense: "Hey..uhm, can I stay here for a while until I fix my gizmo?" he asks. You were about to say no, but your brain just said, If you say no, he will just stay here, but this time with a body to burry, so you automatically nodded and smiled weirdly. He looked at you confusedly and nodded.

So that's how you met Miguel Ohara; he's been staying for a week fixing his gizmo, and you two have been slowly getting close by Chatting for an hour or more, cracking jokes, and even baking a cupcake once for him. He is also helping you in your shop by entertaining your customers and helping you wrap some flowers. One time, when you were cooking adobo, you cut your hand because of how clumsy you are. You are more focused on your favorite series on TV than your work, causing you to cut your hand. When Miguel knew about this, he went full-time and scolded you about how you should be more focused on your work than your Series on TV, and since that day he has been with you in the kitchen, helping you and reminding you to focus on your work. There's one time when you are at your shop and you like to listen to your customers cute moments with their husband or boyfriend. It makes you happy and even fangirl when the quality time is wholesome. You heard him chuckle at the back, looking at you with loving eyes. "Wanna recreate it?" he said, looking at you, waiting for an answer, and well, you are flustered. "Just go back inside and watch something, you said, chuckling a bit. A week has turned into months, and you love spending time with him. You two act like a married couple, and sometimes the locals misunderstand that you two are married. "Ikaw Dai Ako pana e kasal na nako siya tanawa murag mo Bana ug Asawa aguy! "The old woman said to you as she bought the flower for her husband's grave, and what she said made you blush hard enough for the red to get Visible and giggle a little.

After a month of staying with you, Miguel finally fixed his Gizmo, but he doesn't want to leave you after all. You two got so close, but he has to return because someone out there needs him. He told you, and well, you didn't take it too well, but then again, you didn't force him to stay with you, so you have to learn to accept it. On the day that he was going to leave, you cried so much that your eyes are now puffy. "Don't worry, I promise you I'll visit, okay?" he said to you, which made you happy that he would visit, so you nodded, not able to stop your tears.

Once he was gone, your shop became gloomy, and your regular visitors asked where he was, but you always said that he went back home. At night, you waited for him every night, expecting him to come back into your arms again, but after days of waiting became weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, and on July 23rd, you gave up and tried to forget him, and you asked yourself, Why do you always wait for him? Why do you always have hope that he will actually come back? why? You ask yourself that, but the answer is quiet.

Miguel, in the meantime, once he is back at the headquarters, he tries to get back to you, but he can't, and he doesn't know why. He tries to find your Universe, but he can't for some reason. He even asks his AI, Layla, but even she can't find it. No matter how hard she tries, she just can't, but he doesn't give up; he asks Spider-Byte, even though she doesn't know until Spider-Byte has said something that pissed Miguel off.

"Maybe this Universe that you are looking for doesn't exist, or maybe her universe Vanished like a big crunch?"

He looked at her, pissed. "That's impossible! That universe exists! I even stayed there for a month! That's impossible!"

The truth is that he is scared. Maybe what she said is the truth; maybe your universe died; maybe... It vanished. He is scared, so he keeps trying until July 23rd, 3:45 a.m. He found the universe that you live in, but you were dead. You were stabbed to death late at night. because your door is not locked and you were sleeping on the couch, and you had your plate ready at the table near you waiting for him, but instead of Miguel, it was something else. It was death.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #atsv #Spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x y/n #angst #slow burn #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #Xreader

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nico-is-typing · 6 months

Text

"Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation", a guide

Notes:

The chapter summaries were written by the author and translated by the staff at the Mo Dao Zu Shi Wiki. This "guide" serves as a simplified overview.

To make it easier to access the information, this is divided into novel volumes. Aside from the list of chapters, and respective summaries, at the end you can find ALL FLASHBACKS (for people who, like myself, dislike flashbacks and need a previous warning).

Volume 1

Prologue

Wei Wuxian has died!

1. Reincarnation

Wei Wuxian is reincarnated into someone else's body.

2. The Intractable

Part 1: Wei Wuxian makes a scene in front of Gusu Lan disciples. Part 2: Evil spirit comes Part 3: Battle corpses

3. The Prideful

Part 1: I have a little donkey that I never ride Part 2: Wangji's long-awaited arrival Part 3: After washing my face, found out I was actually pretty handsome Part 4: Soul-eating woman Part 5: I am taking this person back to the Lan Clan

4. The Elegant Flirt

Part 1: Overbearing Hanguang-jun's crazy little escaping wife??? Part 2: Inviting death by crawling into his bed Part 3: First meeting as schoolmates Part 4: I hate you Part 5: Inviting death by provoking him Part 6: Teasing this Goody-two-shoes Part 7: Water spirit, loquat, muahh! Part 8: Rabbit, taking a beating, bye-bye!

5. The Sunny Pair

Part 1: Leaving the mountain to elope!!! Part 2: The husband duo leaves the mountain Part 3: Caressing your hand, huzzah! Let's go to a darker place together...╭(′▽`)╭(= =)╯ Part 4: Man-Eating Ridge

6. The Malevolent

Part 1: Rotten luck Part 2: Coming out alive Part 3: Nonchalantly shedding fake identity + princess carry Part 4: Unveiling the secret of the Man-Eating Ridge of Qinghe Part 5: Aaaahhhhh! What else is buried in the walls?!

7. The Morning Dew

Part 1: Come~~ be happy~~ let's drink wine~~ Part 2: "Sir, what's your last name?" "It's... Lan" Part 3: The extermination of the Chang clan, gravedigger, summoning Wen Ning again Part 4: Lan Zhan... is drunk......... Part 5: "You were so wild last night, Hanguang-jun"

Volume 2

8. The Stalk of Grass

Part 1: Foggy ghost city Part 2: Paper effigies Part 3: Paper effigy shop and sticky rice porridge Part 4: Who's outside the door? Bamboo pole clacks Part 5: Who are you, and who are you? Who the f**k are you guys really? Part 6: Secrets start unveiling Part 7: Yi City's story Part 8: Frost Blood Parts 9: Trash Yang incites the wrath of heaven and people Part 10: The husband duo decapitates Trash Yang, Xing-Lan-Qing gets sorted out, Yi City Arc complete

9. The Allure

Part 1: Wangji drunkenly hits Wen Ning, Xiao-Wanjun binds Wei Ying at night Part 2: Special program: "Drunk" by Lan Wangji, "Interrogation" by Wei Wuxian, "Kiss" joint performance Part 3: Take off my headband, you become mine!!!

10. The Beguiling Boy

Part 1: Headless man Part 2: Secret room, head Part 3: The Venerated Triad Part 4: A mutual fan-turned-anti story Part 5: A mutual fan-turned-anti story, complete

Volume 3

11. Supreme Courage

Part 1: Previous life Part 2: The beast at the end of the deep cavern Part 3: Wicked beast and biting Wan-jun, piggyback leads to heart aflutter Part 4: Tease. Flirt. Escape. Bite. Yell. Wail~ Part 5: Kill after finishing teasing, tease after finishing killing.

12. Sandu: The Three Poisons

Part 1: A storm is brewing Part 2: All hell breaks loose. A great slap Part 3: Upheaval at home Part 4: Wen Ning Part 5: Dead end

13. Ill Winds

Part 1: Rise of the evil and charming wickification Part 2: Continuing that rise of evil and charming wickification

14. Soft

Part 1: Inseparably in love Part 2: Sinister melody Part 3: Set out Part 4: Pouncing into a grass pile is a type of romance Part 5: Dig graves and eat melon Part 6: Crusade against

15. Peony for the Soon Departed

Part 1: Everyone, I like flashbacks Part 2: Shadow Part 3: Tossing flower from the balcony

Volume 4

16. The Unruly

Part 1: Crashing a feast Part 2: Defect

17. Distance

Part 1: Two people taking care of a little one together Part 2: Goodbye my love

18. Night Flight

Part 1: Wei Wuxian, lifelong anti-fan of Jin Zixuan, says "I won't troll Jin Zixuan for a year" Part 2: Wickification maxed Part 3: Die with her, everyone!

19. Core of the Truehearted

Part 1: Flashback ends, back to the present Part 2: Unmask Part 3: The crowd of corpses at Burial Mounds Part 4: Battle against the fierce corpses Part 5: A-Yuan, A-Yuan Part 6: Blinding the children by showing off Part 7: Spilling secret Part 8: Don't you know? Once you have a boyfriend, you must take him to see where you grew up Part 9: Pay respect towards heaven, saving mutual salute between couples for later Part 10: The truth behind the golden core Part 11: Jiang Cheng is shook

20. Day and Night

Part 1: Stealing lotus pods Part 2: One inn, one room Part 3: One is handsome, one is charming, therefore they should do something Part 4: Drunken Ji Part 5: Stealing jujube and chicken Part 6: Love bathing Part 7: Overthink Part 8: Now Wei Wuxian can't leave Lan Wangji

Volume 5

21. Hensheng: To Hate Life

Part 1: Time to beat Yao-meimei Part 2: Discipline whip scars Part 3: Confession Part 4: Rescue failed Part 5: I'm sorry. I broke my word. Part 6: But, those are all things in the past Part 7: It is all you guys' fault Part 8: Boss's dignity Part 9: All gathered in one hall

22. Hidden Edge

Part 1: Everyone fights older Nie together Part 2: Nie Mingjue f**k you #%@&#*&@ Part 3: Seal the coffin Part 4: Everyone has their own path

23. Wangxian: Forgetting Envy

Part 1: Every day is every day Part 2: Sweet Part 3: The ballad of Wangxian was as long as the journey here, now the song has ended but the couple are together at last

Extras

Family Banquet

Part 1: Honeymoon, going back to check up on Hubby's family (○｀3′○） Part 2: Honeymoon, day-to-day accounts Part 3: Daily lives of the lovey-dovey husband duo

The Incense Burner

Part 1: Let's gather around and watch Er-gege's () dream Part 2: Yiling Patriarch Xian vs Young Wangji, KO

Villainous Friends

The daily lives of the evil duo, committing crimes and wiping evidence

Gate Crasher

Part 1: A small night-hunt after Wangxian goes into seclusion Part 2: Catching creatures with Sizhui Part 3: You're a virgin? :P

The Iron Hook

Part 1: Patriarch's night-hunt course Part 2: Second night-hunt notes

Lotus Seeds

Summertime of youth

Yunmeng

A dream among clouds, a dream come true

From Dawn till Dusk

Cuddling and grading papers

Flashbacks

Vol. 1

From "The Elegant Flirt, Part 3" to "The Elegant Flirt, Part 8"

Flashback to the beginning of the Cloud Recesses' Arc. Includes: Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji's first meeting at around fifteen years old.

Between "The Morning Dew, Part 2" and "The Morning Dew, Part 3"

Lan Wangji (re)tells the story of Xiao Xingchen and the massacre of the Yueyang Chang Clan.

Vol. 2

From "The Stalk of Grass, Part 6" to "The Stalk of Grass, Part 9"

Past memories, from performing Empathy on A-Qing (ghost) Includes: The expanded story of Xiao Xingchen, A-Qing, Xue Yang, and Song Lan; What is really happening in Yi City.

In "The Allure, Part 3"

Minor flashback to the archery contest, at the Qishan Wen Clan's Discussion Conference. Includes: One of the first forehead-ribbon incidents

From "The Beguiling Boy, Part 3" to "The Beguiling Boy, Part 5"

Past memories, from Nie Mingjue (non-consensual Empathy) Includes: Meng Yao's back story; A look into sworn-brotherhood; What really happened to Nie Mingjue?

Vol. 3

From "Supreme Courage, Part 1" to "III Winds, Part 2"

Flashback to Wei Wuxian's first life. Includes: Nightless City Arc (Wen Clan of Qishan); Burial Mounds, the first appearance; The demise of Wen Chao; Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji realizing Wei WuxIan has changed.

From "Peony for the Soon Departed, Part 1" to "Peony for the Soon Departed, Part 3"

Flashback to Wei Wuxian's first life. Includes: Archery competition, the full story; A sneaky kiss; Jin Zixun being the worst.

Vol. 4

From "The Unruly, Part 1" to "The Unruly, Part 3"

Flashback to the "The Downfall of Wei Wuxian". Includes: Crashing the Jin banquet; Qiongqi Path (freeing the remnants of Qishan Wen Clan); Turning the Burial Mounds into a home; Cultivation World leaders start scheming; Jiang Cheng wants to fight.

From "Distance, Part 1" to "Distance, Part 2"

Flashback to the "The Downfall of Wei Wuxian" continues. Includes: Lan Wangi visiting the Burial Mounds; Accidentally adopting a child together; "Rich-gege"; Jiang Yanli is a bride now.

From "Night Flight, Part 1" to "Night Flight, Part 3"

Flashback to the "The Downfall of Wei Wuxian" continues. Includes: Wei Wuxian tries to be a good uncle; Ambush at Qiongqi Path; R.I.P Jin Zixuan and good-riddance Jin Zixun; The Wen siblings surrender; Wei Wuxian says goodbye to his remaining sanity (Yanli deserved better); Bloodbath of Nightless City ensues.

There's no actual flashbacks in Vol. 5. Still, some of the Extras take place in the past.

#grandmaster of demonic cultivation #mdzs #mxtx #wangxian #mxtx mdzs

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emilykaldwen · 1 month

Note

I obviously don't want you to let any cats out of bags if you're planning this for the main fic, but "Please talk to me. I need to hear you." for Abby and Aegon post-Rook's Rest?

So good news: My ass doesn't have anything planned for the Dance quite yet, so we're going into the general canon for this. So Aegon and Abby were in KL, they were crowned, and things continued as they did in canon.

warning: violent pregnancy loss (off-screen), grief, mentions of past violence. ANGSTY

It had been three weeks. Rain patters on the wall of windows facing the sea, the deep blue and green curtains pulled back to let in the watery light of the miserable day. The fire crackles in the great hearth and braziers are lit to keep any chill away from the king. There is still dust lingering along the corners she finds from where Aegon smashed his dead father’s Valyrian model, and how he’d screamed for it to be tossed in a trash heap, for every single shattered piece of it to be hauled away never to be seen again.

Abby thinks of how she decorated the room after their coronation. Once all of the old things - including the bed that the rot of the king had melted into - had been taken out. There were the erotic mosaics still etched in the walls that Aegon enjoyed, as well as a tapestry of her above the fireplace in their bed chamber, the one of Sunfyre above the hearth in the main room. Couches overflowing with soft pillows and blankets, her drawing supplies by the great doors to the balcony.

Often, the room was filled with flowers - wisteria and roses, her favorite.

Now it smells of burnt flesh, of medicinal poultices, of milk of the poppy, of her own tears. She sits in the great chair beside the bed, eyes red rimmed. Surely, she’s cried enough to turn the streets of King’s Landing into rivers. Her needle stabs into her fingers, drawing blood but little sound from her. Drops of it dot the white of the blanket she’s embroidering for the baby that will never come.

Not after that terrible night.

Her ribs still ache from the blows, the swelling along her face having gone down that she can at least see out of both her eyes again.

First it was Aegon, furious at what had been done to her, helpless to take away her pain, their pain. Now it is she who is angry and helpless, impotent at his bedside.

Thunder rumbles outside and she tosses her embroidery across the room, the anger in her a muted thing, difficult to feel in the most visceral ways. It hugs her insides, curling through her bones and wrapping around her limbs like mist. The only sound is her wet gasping, the crackle of the fire. Aegon’s own soft wheezing. The left side of his face is burned, the injury skating down the side of his body but thank the Seven, thank the Old Gods, thank them all, that his armor did not fuse into him to be cut away and cause him more pain.

“Come to the Sept,” Alicent had tried to console her. “Come and pray, it will ease you.”

“The only one I’ll ever pray to is my husband,” she had growled, pulling away from her cousin’s hold. “Leave me. Leave me with him. There is nothing left to comfort me while he is like this.”

“Please talk to me,” she whispers, barely audible to her own ears. “Please, I need to hear you.” Her voice cracks. “mo réalta geal, please.”

Please don’t leave me.

Abby stares down at him, her eyes tracking over the planes of his face, the feel of him one that she knows so intimately that she can feel the sensation of his skin against her fingertips - phantom and comforting. Her breath hitches and she bites down on her fist, eyes shutting tight as another wave of pain, of grief, of loss so acute in her empty belly, in her hollow ribs, threatening to drown her as she wept. “Aegon,” she sobs, her voice small, her plea lost in the hiccups as she bows over him, her tangled, limp hair absent of its luster.

She doesn’t know how long she weeps, but long enough that she falls asleep, her head resting on the bed beside where his hand rests, bandaged fingers little comfort but enough. Her face is a mottled mess, red and puffy, her lashes stuck together from her tears. Abby drifts into her dreams, snatches of memories. Of the maester confirming her pregnancy, of the way Aegon whooped and lifted her into his arms, and she thought they would never be happier.

But then the pair of them came, to rob them of their joy, to take her babe away, to take them both from Aegon had Ser Criston and Ser Arryk not gotten to them. But they had each other, and they would get through it, they would survive this horrible attack, they would defend their family and their home.

Until Aegon flew, crashing with Meleys above Rook’s Rest. The Red Queen plummeted to earth, but Sunfyre had survived. Aegon had survived. Somehow.

Fingers brush against her forehead and she whimpers, rubbing her face into the light blanket and her eyes cracked open.

Aegon’s fingers came into focus as they wriggled, and the rasping, hoarse whisper, “I’m sorry,” crackled in the air. She couldn’t breathe. Abby blinked, her hand trembling as she touched her fingers to his and slowly, as if she’d wake from a dream, she lifted her head to see Aegon’s own, heavy lidded and unfocused. “I left you for so long.”

“Aegon?” Was he real? Was this his voice?

His mouth twitches slightly as he tries to smile at her. “You are so beautiful.” Slurred and crackly, but Aegon all the same. Abby carefully lifts the bandaged hand in hers, kissing him softly as she moves further on the bed. His uninjured hand moves, heavy and slow from disuse, to cup her cheek with a clumsy movement that causes her to wince. “Sorry,” he whispered, fingers gentle. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere…” a sigh, his eyes fluttering. “Found you….. Mine now.”

“Yours,” she promised. “Yours.”

#hotd tag #my fics #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x oc #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon ii targaryen fic #oc: abrogail strong #aegon targaryen fic #SERIOUSLY THIS IS THE MOST ANGSTY THING IVE WRITTEN IN AGES #merc tag #you unlocked something in me

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laxmiree · 6 months

Text

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Poison Date translation (Part 2/2)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

⚠️ Content Warning: Suicide. Please proceed cautiously and prioritize your mental and emotional well-being when engaging with this material

I've committed unforgivable sins, drunk the incurable poison.

Your sweet voice has set my reason ablaze, beckoning me to follow you to the depths of hell.

So kiss me, my love, with those poisoned lips of yours.

Previous Part-> [Here]

[Subbed Video - Turn on CC!]

youtube

Lucien being over the top and dramatic with his villain narrative is a bit comedic LOL, it is not something that you hear every day. Also, that end part….. the despair is very painful to hear and watch huhu.

[Part 3]

Tonight, the audience in the theater consists only of the Pope and me, so the opening applause is naturally a bit sparse.

After the melodious music begins, the curtain is drawn open.

On the stage, the simple set pieces appear to be a palace.

The music gradually slows, and the sound of footsteps approaches from one side of the stage. I follow the sound, and in an instant, my breath catches.

Even the Pope beside me can’t help but take a sharp breath and sits up with great interest.

A magnificent crown, a dark-colored robe…

For a moment, I almost believed it was the spirit of my husband, resurrected and standing before me.

MC: Lucien….

Xu Mo doesn’t look like Xu Mo at all now. After taking the specter, he is almost identical to Lucien.

Xu Mo seems quite pleased with the reactions of the two of us in the audience. He winks at me lightly and raises his voice.

Xu Mo: (dramatically) Another long and endless night.

Xu Mo: I’ve spent countless hours on lengthy and tedious scriptures, and now I have to deal with the infatuation of that boring princess…

Xu Mo: …I gave up being a servant of God and immersed myself in the secular world, but when will my ideals and ambitions finally be realized!

MC: This is…

I listen in shock to Xu Mo’s arrogant speech, and amid it, an indescribable fear creeps up from my heart.

On the stage, Xu Mo appears like a true king. He gracefully reclines on the throne, casually toying with the scepter with one of his hands.

Bloody, withered bones spread beneath his feet, and amid the dimming flames, he continues to pour out his ambitions.

Xu Mo: I can’t wait any longer.

Xu Mo: Perhaps I should instigate an impeachment, a rebellion, and crown myself with the blood of countless people?

Xu Mo: But what about my wife?

Xu Mo: The poor little princess is too delicate. Her ears can only bear the beautiful music of the harp; the sound of weapons would frighten her.

His words, with their ups and downs, are filled with a cruel chill that seeps into every fiber of my being.

———What on earth is Xu Mo performing?!

Xu Mo: Wait, I’ve thought of it.

Onstage, Xu Mo tosses aside the scepter, and, as if performing magic, he now holds a captivating bouquet in his hand.

Oleander, Aconite, Gelsemium… each one of them is the dazzling poisonous flowers that Lucien once told me about.

Xu Mo: An Eastern sorcerer once taught me an unnamed formula, and that colorless, tasteless powder will surely help me realize my dream.

Xu Mo: Perhaps tonight, I should set up a banquet and invite that foolish and ignorant king.

MC: ….!

Banquet. King. Hellish memories flow back into my mind like a stream of mud, and I tremble all over.

On that day, Lucien hosts a banquet and invites my father and the Pope. I can’t attend due to a sudden high fever.

After the banquet, while I was still ill, I received shocking news-

My father dies at the dining table, and my husband, whose plot to poison the Pope and usurp the throne is exposed, is executed on the spot by the surviving Pope.

Within a single day, the two most important men in my life have left me in this way.

But these are royal secrets, and I have never told Xu Mo about them. How did he find out?!

At this point, the music for the second act has already started, the lights are dimming, and the execution table is about to be brought onto the stage.

MC: No…!

Unable to bear it any longer, I suddenly stand up and stumble out of the theater.

——————————————————————————

After the girl’s fleeing figure disappears, the music and the performance immediately come to a halt.

Xu Mo raises a glass of wine, walks down from the stage, and approaches the Pope.

The actor still wears a magnificent royal robe, his voice composed.

Xu Mo: Unfortunately, there is only one audience member left now. What do you think of this performance?

The Pope leans back in his seat contentedly and perfunctorily claps his hands.

The Pope: Outstanding performance. It even had our esteemed Princess MC completely engrossed.

The Pope: However, the plot does seem a bit too long. It’s about time for the curtain to fall, don’t you think, Xu Mo?

Xu Mo: Indeed.

Xu Mo: Then please, have this glass of wine to celebrate the end of this great performance.

Xu Mo hands the wine to the Pope, who smiles as he drinks it all in one go before leaving happily.

——————————————————————————

After returning to the palace, I pull all the curtains closed and bury myself in the corner of the bed.

Thoughts in my mind become a tangled mess, and amidst the chaos, that most secretive and terrifying thought uncontrollably resurfaces.

—Perhaps there was never an actor “Xu Mo” who traveled from the East, there’s only…

Just thinking of that name alone, my heart feels like it’s being twisted by a knife.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but my bedroom door is pushed open, and the candlelight illuminates through the darkness.

Xu Mo: Madam, I know you’re here.

The source of light is getting closer, and Xu Mo has already taken off his costume, his expression gentle as if nothing had happened before.

Xu Mo:(gently) You’ve been like this before, after being frightened, you would extinguish all the lights and huddle in the corner of the bed without moving.

Xu Mo: Every time, I had to coax you for a while, using sweets or kisses to persuade you, before you’d finally come out like a little rabbit.

He sets down the candlestick and leans slowly towards me. His voice is so gentle that it could drown anyone.

Xu Mo: Actually, the play I had prepared wasn’t this one, but because of an unexpected audience, I had to perform this kind of scenario.

Xu Mo: I’m sorry, did I frighten you tonight?

I open my mouth as if unsure of how to find my words, and after a moment, I speak with difficulty.

MC: …Who are you really?

Xu Mo: Who do you think I am?

His voice is soft, like a ghost’s whisper, but his breath is warm, landing gently on my forehead, repeatedly scorching that small patch of skin.

MC: ….

MC: You are…

That one word is too heavy; once spoken, it would shatter the resolve I’ve built up over these past few years.

In the long silence, Xu Mo can’t wait for my response, and he lowers his gaze.

Xu Mo: I’m a little disappointed, young princess.

Xu Mo: I believe I’ve taught you enough, you should be able to taste that someone has poisoned your drink at today’s banquet.

Xu Mo: Now you should… Ugh! [gasps]

His calmness completely ignites my anger; I swiftly throw off the blanket and lunge towards him.

Xu Mo gets caught off guard, and I push him down onto the bed.

The anger of being played with completely drowns my reason, and I only want to repay him with all the torment I’ve endured over these years.

But my body is too weak, and my struggles in his eyes probably resemble nothing more than a bedroom game. With little effort, he manages to restrain my wrists.

Xu Mo: Be good, now is not the time to be angry.

Without the need for elaborate attire, Xu Mo’s voice regains the composure befitting his high position.

He used to always use that kind of voice to coax me, kiss me, making me willingly ensnared in his web.

I used to be so enamored by his composure, but now I can only let out a bitter laugh.

MC: Do you expect me to weep tears of joy at your “resurrection”?

MC: Why can’t I be angry about your deception?

MC: Why do you think I wouldn’t want to kill you, Lucien?

Ding-ding- [sounds of bells]

————————————————————————-

Outside the castle, a mournful tolling of funeral bells suddenly echoes, startling countless crows into flight.

A towering blaze erupts from the cathedral, and the priests, in a panic, try to rush out but find the entrance surrounded by layers of soldiers.

Priest: You…?!

Soldier: The Pope is dead, and until the new Pope arrives, no one is allowed to leave the cathedral.

[Part 4]

Neither Lucien nor I care about the deafening tolling of the bells and the cries from outside; none of it has anything to do with this room.

I take a deep breath, reaching for my concealed dagger, and at that moment, a cold gleam flashes within our locked gazes.

Lucien:[gasps] ….!

A rare surprise flicker in Lucien’s eyes. In the blink of an eye, he only manages to reach out his hand to block the dagger.

The blade slices through his palm, and the tip of the knife stops at his throat.

Crimson droplets of blood slide down the silver blade, landing on the hollow of his collarbone, one drop after another.

Lucien:[gasps] ….

Despite the pain he’s clearly experiencing, a smile blossoms on Lucien’s face.

He even opens his other hand, baring his chest, as if inviting me to do as I wish.

Lucien: Okay then, what’s the reason for my wife wanting to kill me?

MC: Isn’t the act you’re putting on today the reason?

Lucien: Did you really believe it?

Of course, I didn’t believe it.

When the pope told me back then, I never believed that Lucien would poison him and usurp the throne.

I know his ambitions and ideals, and I believe he must have secret trouble and is unjustly accused.

I know better than anyone the kind of person my beloved, whom I mourn day and night, truly is.

So when I tasted the poison in the holy water, I thought it was just the Pope torturing me, wanting me to follow him to his death slowly.

-But now, the glaring truth in front of me shatters my wishful thinking.

I don’t apply more force, and Lucien doesn’t release the blade either.

As if my silent response is more unbearable to Lucien than the pain in his palm, he tilts his head slightly, then turns back again.

Lucien: I’m sorry.

Lucien: From the beginning, you shouldn’t have trusted Lucien.

My gaze blurs and then clears with his words, and suddenly, a tear falls on Lucien’s cheek. Only then do I realize my tears have gathered on my chin.

MC: So, then, that day… Was it really you…?

Lucien: It was me, but it wasn’t me at the same time.

Lucien’s response seems ambiguous, but in reality, both he and I know exactly what we’re talking about.

Lucien: I was just a bottle of poison in the hands of the Pope; wherever he needs me to be used, I will be used.

Lucien: The Pope realized that he couldn’t destroy your father’s reputation, but he couldn’t wait any longer, so he used my prescription.

Lucien: I was afraid he would eliminate you as well, so I added something to your food that caused you to get a fever that day, sparing you from attending the banquet.

The truth has shaken me so badly that I can hardly hold the knife handle steadily.

Lucien takes the opportunity to hug me tightly, prying open my fingers and stripping the dagger away, but his words continue to haunt me.

Lucien: The Pope has discovered my little tricks. He promised not to harm you, but he has given me new orders.

Lucien: He shifted all the blame onto me, had me executed, and Lucien ceased to exist in the world, leaving him as the sole ruler of this land.

MC: Then “Xu Mo” rises from the grave and goes to a neighboring country to continue working for him, right?

Lucien nods.

MC: Then why are you here now?

Lucien: Because my plan has come to an end, and it’s time to reclaim what’s rightfully mine.

MC: What’s rightfully yours… the Papal throne?

Lucien: Mm.

Lucien: And you.

Lucien’s expression at this moment is filled with deep love and regret, but it makes my inside feel as if they’re being squeezed.

His slender fingers carefully trace over my throat, confirming my heartbeat, as they leave red traces on my skin.

Lucien: The poison in the wine at today’s banquet was quite potent. Fortunately, it was detected early, but you might have trouble sleeping for the next few days.

Lucien: But now is not the time to discuss this. Accompany me to the cathedral, okay?

Lucien: The Pope is already dead, there won’t be any danger in the future… [gasps] Huh?

His fingers pressing on my pulse suddenly stiffen.

MC: ….You finally figured it out, didn’t you.

I slowly, very slowly, start to show him a grave smile.

MC: Why did you believe I wasn’t poisoned? Always so sure that everything was under your control?

Arising emotions and the effects of the drug cause an unusual flush on my pale face, and Lucien’s breath freezes.

Lucien:[his breath hitches and his words shaken] No…

MC: I should thank you, Lucien.

MC: Thank you for not letting me die at the dinner table a few years ago and from the poisoned wine tonight.

MC: I’m also thankful for the pharmacology lessons you gave me, which allowed me to taste the subtle sweetness in the holy water I drink every week at the cathedral.

Every time I went to pray, the sealed wax on the silver chalice, the faintly sweet water, and the Pope’s hypocritical smile made me nauseous.

MC: You said all your poisons have their rightful place, does that include me?

MC: Lucien, you’re murdering and saving me at the same time… Why?!

Lucien grips my wrist tightly, and for the first time, a look of panic appears on his face.

Lucien: What if I told you I didn’t know about the poison in your holy water… Since you knew it was poisoned, why did you drink it?

He suddenly lifts his head, his voice trembling.

Lucien: -How long have you been drinking it?!

A smile forms at the corner of my lips, my heart feeling relieved and liberated.

MC: Because I’ve been missing you all this time.

MC: …I’ve missed you for so long. That’s how long I’ve been drinking it.

Lucien’s pupils contract in shock. He stumbles out of bed and starts rummaging through a dark cabinet, pulling out one bottle after another.

Lucien: (in a panic) Not this… not this one…

Lucien: Why did I develop it in the first place… why did I give it to him…

Lucien: Yes, MC, drink this first. It can’t wholly detoxify you, but it should provide some relief.

He finally finds a medicine bottle. He anxiously half-kneeling in front of me and bringing a small bottle to my lips.

I gaze at him steadily, not making a move for a long time.

I’m well aware that relief is only temporary, and everything has come too late.

——————————————————————————

As dawn breaks, the guards in silver armor knock on my door, and they say, “We’ve come to welcome the new Pope.”

Lucien: And the new Queen.

He supports my weakened self, walking into the bright light.

My coronation ceremony is even grander than our wedding, with flower petals showering down as if to squander all of spring.

Unfortunately, I run out of strength before reaching the end of the red carpet, and amidst a flurry of gasps, Lucien carries me to the throne.

Lucien: …I am honored to crown you.

His kiss, along with the crown, descends onto my forehead, its weight almost too heavy for me to bear.

—————————————————————————–

My body deteriorates further, and Lucien asks me to wait for him, to give him time to concoct an antidote and to see his true heart.

Actually, he doesn’t need to go through all this trouble.

I’m incapacitated by the poison, unable to do anything, while he is a wise and astute Pope who will lead the nation to prosperity and order.

Yet, he insists on seeking my opinion on every decree, whether I’m in a coma or awake.

And when he formally proclaims them, he always adds the phrase, “In accordance with the Queen’s will.”

I transform from a pitiable woman of ill omen into a resourceful Queen who’s been working hand in hand with her husband, who faked his own death, to overthrow the tyranny of the previous pope.

Even though no one has ever seen me, they all sing praises for me.

It’s really funny. If my fingers still had strength, I’d love to play a scherzo for them.

Lucien continues tirelessly to research and search for an antidote for me. However, the increasing duration of my unconsciousness has left his face more and more grim.

——————————————————————————

When I wake up this time, I find myself carefully wrapped in a feather bed, and there’s a bouquet of purple bellflowers by my side.

Freshly picked, with dewdrops still on the petals.

MC:(smiles) …Poison-free.

My voice startles Lucien, who sits at the desk, and he suddenly looks up.

Lucien:(gently) Is my wife awake?

I softly hum in response. I can’t bring myself to be resolute with him. At least now, we can talk calmly.

I blink drowsily, and my gaze shifts to the desk.

MC: What are you writing?

Lucien: Just some decrees to be issued in the future.

MC: Why do you have to write so long?

The spread-out parchment scroll drags on the floor, and I can’t help but be surprised.

But Lucien doesn’t explain. He picks up a small vial and leans down in front of me.

Lucien: Recently, a physician from the Far East has arrived in the capital. This is a prescription we formulated together. Try it, okay?

His tone reminds me of “Xu Mo”. I press my tongue against my teeth and manage to say, “Okay,” with difficulty.

A spark of delight lights up in his eyes. He carefully administers the medicine to my lips, eagerly awaiting my reaction.

Lucien:(with a bit of hope in his voice) Is your head still hurting?

MC: It still hurts.

Lucien: Are you breathing better?

MC: No.

Lucien: ….

Lucien:(quietly) And… your heart?

MC: I feel… like it’s not beating anymore.

For a moment, I can almost see the invisible despair crushing down the man in front of me.

He lowers his head and gently buries his face in the palm of my hand.

Lucien: ….You’re punishing me, right?

MC: I’m not punishing you, Lucien.

I feel the salty dampness in my palm, sticky and wet. It’s as if we are already trapped in an unsolvable situation.

MC: My innocence and romance had already come to an end on that day, and I… I’m just very tired.

MC: I want to hate you, but I know I can’t hate you. I want to love you, but I don’t dare to love you.

MC: It’s me… I hate myself that’s like this.

Deathly silence pervades the dimly lit room until the sun sets in the west and the morning dew dries up. Then, Lucien’s hoarse voice finally breaks the silence.

Lucien: If Madam doesn’t dare to love Lucien, can she perhaps show some mercy for Xu Mo?

He has never begged like this before; I can’t refuse him.

MC: …Okay.

MC: Xu Mo, my most loyal servant, could you please reenact the scene from the first time I saw you?

Lucien nods, his face obscured by the twilight glow, only his melodious voice reaching my ears.

Lucien: I’ve committed unforgivable sins, drunk the incurable poison.

Lucien: The secret elixir is as sweet as honey at times, and as bitter as chicory at others; Once you taste a drop, your soul will perish.

Lucien: Your sweet voice has set my reason ablaze, beckoning me to follow you to the depths of hell.

Lucien: So kiss me, my love, with those poisoned lips of yours.

As I listen to his soothing voice, my vision gradually blurs. In the final scene, I see Lucien taking out that dagger, pointing it towards his own chest.

–In the final moment, I remember.

The reason I brought Xu Mo back that day is because he performed a beautiful play of lovers ending their lives together for love’s sake.

———————Fin——-—————

[Afterwords]

Before I share my thoughts- I want to remind y’all that this story is fictional and shouldn’t be taken as encouragement or inspiration for any harmful actions, particularly self-harm or suicide. If you or someone you know is struggling with such thoughts or feelings, please seek help and support from a mental health professional or a trusted person.

Okay, let’s talk a bit about the date. Honestly, I have a bit of mixed feelings about this date. On the one hand, I like that PG finally has the guts to have a bad ending; it’s beautifully written, and I LOVE all the tropes being used here, but on the other hand… I feel that because the date is so short, it doesn’t explore much of his motivation and detail of his plans, making his plan feel flimsy and his character a bit OOC. I mean, the Lucien that we know wouldn’t be ‘dumb’ enough to trust someone like the Pope.

But, well, I can only compromise, so here’s my take on what might have transpired. At that time, when the Pope sought to eliminate MC’s father, he may not have wielded much power. Consequently, he might have had no choice but to acquiesce to the Pope’s terms. After his ‘death’, while doing the Pope’s work as ‘Xu Mo’, he also secretly gathers power (ie. the soldiers at the end might be his people) to reclaim the papal throne for him and the Queen’s throne for MC. He is a loyal servant to his master, but his real master wasn’t the Pope, classic Lucien double agents trope, I must say. It’s almost reminiscent of the main story, especially with his connection to NW.

Perhaps he already did everything he could, like teaching MC how to recognize the poisons, so if the Pope tried to poison her, she could acknowledge it promptly and avoid consuming it. However, he didn’t take her deep feelings for him into account, didn’t consider that she would rather follow him into the afterlife after his ‘death’ :”.

After many years, he finally came back for revenge. Coincidentally, MC is also bringing him back to the palace, and as Xu Mo, he takes care of her needs as her servant. The stage play is indeed for the Pope to see; the purpose is to relax the Pope’s vigilance. By acting as the villain as MC’s watch, he proves ‘his loyalty’ to the Pope. This act lulls the Pope into a false sense of security, and it’s only when the Pope’s guard is completely down, Lucien finally can ‘let the curtain fall’ as he poisons the Pope.

It’s understandable why MC gets mad at him. First, he faked his death, leaving her for years with her grief and depression, only to find out that he was alive all along. Second, although she doesn’t believe in the stage play, he still deceives her and indirectly kills her father. And yet, despite everything that’s happened, she can’t bring herself to hate him.

AND THEN, here comes the final twist, just when Lucien thought he could finally reclaim everything that was rightfully his. He found out that everything was not under his control. Just like in the Main Story, MC is always outside of his control. His composure crumbles the instant he learns of her impending demise. The throne, the power, and the land mean nothing to him if there’s no MC by his side. What’s worse, it’s his own prized poison that slowly kills her. He saves her, yet at the same time, he is also the one who indirectly kills her. Ironic, isn’t?

(By the way, the coronation scene is excellent; it’s just ugh so heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time)

Although it’s painfully clear that there’s no way to save her, Lucien still relentlessly and desperately tries to find a cure. Really, as long as she's alive, he will never give up even a trace of hope because he believes in the future when he will rule the kingdom together with her, so even when MC was seriously ill, he was still writing decrees and trying to discuss it with her. He clears out her name and prepares his death by writing that long decree for the future (at least the kingdom will be okay, I guess :”D).

But when MC utters those heart-wrenching words, telling him that her heart no longer beats after he gave her the antidote, he gives up all illusions, all his status, power, wealth, and fame, without any hesitation and directly chooses to die together with her. The last thing he could do was beg for her mercy.

–In the final moment, I remember.

The reason I brought Xu Mo back that day is because he performed a beautiful play of lovers ending their lives together for love’s sake.

This last scene :””. MC brought back Xu Mo because the act of dying out of love touched her. It gave her some relief that perhaps dying for love wasn’t so bad. By using ‘Xu Mo’ play, Lucien also dies out of love, completing this ‘play’ doomed from the start.

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