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reinerszn · 11 months

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good boy ! — e. landry & mean!reader

content warnings: nsfw/smut, sub!ethan, afab!reader, unprotected sex, p in v!, e is super needy, mentions of bodily fluids (cum), e has a breeding kink, praise, established relationship, e calls reader momma, last of it is sorta rushed sry:(, if there’s anything else lmk! ♥︎

xylea’s note: literally over 2.5k words :O proofread once, sry for any mistakes. longer part for this! also, for all my works i envision it with chubby!reader :p but feel free to use your imagination baby!

ethan’s attention was not at all focused on the movie anymore. he couldn’t help but feel bothered and frustrated that you were denying his needs. he needed you so desperately, why couldn’t you see that? “be a good boy and you’ll get rewarded as soon as they go home, okay?” your voice was so sweet and promising, it got ethan’s hopes up. he nodded furiously.

some time had passed and it was already 11:24 pm. ethan was more than desperate now given it felt like it had been forever and time was going so agonizingly slow. “momma please.. just need your touch,” ethan gave you a pout, eyes filled with distress. “movie’s almost done e, just wait.” you continued to shut him down every chance you got. the pout was still visible on his pretty face. “stop poutin’ baby,” you whispered softly to the curly-haired boy beside you, hand caressing his inner thigh. ethan’s breathing hitched a bit from the sudden touch. so cute.

20 or 30 minutes had now passed and the movie was now done. you sighed softly in relief. “go switch on the lights, e.” he whipped his head at you, embarrassment visible in his eyes. he was still painfully hard and he knew it’d be visible to the others. ethan shook his head from side to side. you rolled your eyes and got up to do it yourself. “ugh, that movie was shit, tara,” mindy got up from the floor, reaching out her hands for anika. “you wouldn’t understand mindy!” tara snapped back. i chuckled softly at the two who were bickering their mouths off. “alright! why don’t we go home now, huh?” chad chimed in, attempting to stop their stupid argument. “ethan, you gonna stay?” chad looked over at ethan who was desperately trying to cover himself up with the blanket without looking suspicious. “u-uh yeah.. you go ahead and leave, i’ll stay.” chad nodded as he made his way over to the front door with tara, mindy and anika following out as well. both you and ethan waved a goodbye to the four as they left. you locked the door and looked back at ethan.

“you should’ve just listened baby..” you slowly made your way to the back of the couch, sitting your plump ass on the edge of it. “i- they would’ve saw!” he began to ramble on about how worried he was if his friends saw how hard he was for you. “that’s your fault for being so desperate. i mean, why were you even so needy in the first place baby? what made you so worked up, huh?” you looked at him so sweetly, even giving him a small pout as you hopped off the back of the couch to make your way towards the curly-haired boy. “i- i don’t know. you just make me get all worked up and excited i can’t help but crave you momma..” ethan admitted, looking down at the couch to avoid eye contact with you.

you took hold of his jaw firmly and made him look at you. “look at me.” ethan’s eyes widened, surprised from the sudden action. would it surprise you if you knew that his dick just twitched at the very act you just did? “s-sorry momma.”

“mm.. do you still want your reward? do you think you deserve it?” your eyes were locked with his and you could’ve swore you saw hearts in his eyes once you had mentioned his reward. ethan nodded his head furiously, curls softly bouncing from the motion. “p-please momma. i’ll be good, promise. i won’t even cum til’ you tell me, please?” all he could do was babble out promises that you knew were going to be broken by the time you touched his painfully hard cock that throbbed for your touch. “oh really?” your voice was lower than usual, a bit huskier as well. your eyes were filled with burning desire and you couldn’t help but think of ethan’s pretty cock spurting out his cum all over your hands. he bit his lip, nodding once more. “if you say so baby.. better stay true to your words.”

you straddled yourself onto his lap, hips sitting on his. your hands were wrapped around his neck as your lips were on his, kiss filled with such desire and passion yet with a sense of love and warmth. he melted into your touch and his brain had gone all mushy, no longer being able to think about anything else but you. ethan’s breathing began to get a bit erratic and would falter as he felt one of your hands travel down his chest and to his achy cock that was restrained in his grey sweats. he pulled away softly, desperately needing air. “momma please,” he whined out. ethan’s whines and whimpers were nothing but music to your ears. they sounded so heavenly and beautiful as they fell off his puffy lips that you would gently bite on whenever you’d feel like it. “please what, e? use your words.” obviously you knew exactly what he wanted but it was just so much better to see ethan beg and plead for it. “please touch me momma, ‘m so hard it hurts and it’s so achy,” his lips jutted out, giving you another small pout as his big eyes gave you that adoring puppy-like look. seeing him fall apart like this always made your heart swell and arousal form between your thighs. a cunning smirk was plastered on your face.

one of your hands slipped under the waistband of his sweats, squeezing his cock that was being held back from his boxers. you earned a groan from ethan as he threw his head back. “fuckkk.. momma.”

“what baby? that feel good?” you squeezed his cock once more, hand softly palming him afterwards. ethan nodded his head frantically as more whines and moans escaped his lips. “can’t hear you,” you said in a sing-song tone, teasing the writhing boy. “feels too good!” he managed to choke out between breathy whimpers. your palming became much more powerful, pressing against his achy cock. his body jolted as he slapped his palm against his lips, attempting to muffle his pretty sounds. “no no.. let momma hear you,” you stopped your motions and swatted away his hand from his mouth. needing his lips on yours once again, you kissed him, feeling ethan groan into your mouth. your hips were rubbing against his, cunt grinding down on him. you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t just as desperate as your boyfriend who laid beneath you. ethan’s hips began to buck into yours, gravely needy for your cunt or at the very least, your hands wrapped around him. “please.. please please pleaseee,” he continued to babble out, desperate for you.

feeling just as eager as ethan, you got up to slide your pyjama shorts down, leaving yourself in your pink and lacy panties that ethan adored. you then went to slide ethan’s sweats and boxers down, just enough to see his cock. his tip was red and leaked with pre-cum, slapping and twitching against his stomach. you cooed at the sight, feeling so lucky to have ethan at your mercy like this. “so pretty baby… you want momma to help you?” you cocked an eyebrow at him. “yes— please i need it so bad.. just need your touch,” he whined out, adams apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly.

being such a generous girlfriend who always nurtured her sweet boyfriend, you couldn’t help but give in a bit. your hands were wrapped around the shaft of his cock, stroking it gently just to tease. ethan threw his head back once more, mouth agape as his pretty sounds fled his mouth. his physical reactions that his body always made, due to just your touch, never failed to get you all thrilled. “sucha good boy, making those sounds for momma..” your hands picked up their pace, going a bit faster than ethan had anticipated. he gasped loudly, eyes closed shut. “momma.. need your cunt,” he’d slur on his words, saliva forming on the corners of his mouth. his mind was blank and he couldn’t think straight at all. all he knew was that he felt good and needed your cunt squeezing all the cum out of him that he had for you. “soon baby.. keep being a good boy f’ me.”

ethan’s breathing hitched, abdomen clenching tight which indicated that he was indeed close to gushing out all of his cum on your hands. your pace had gotten slower by the second and came to a full stop.

ethan absolutely hated when you would do this and be so mean to deny or ruin his orgasm. “why’d you stop?” he whined out softly as he opened his eyes to look at you, “was so close momma.” you couldn’t help but smirk at the curly-haired boy who had a slick of sweat covering his forehead. his curls started to stick onto his forehead, covering his brows. “because baby, i don’t want you to cum yet. want you to fill me up,” your hand slid your lacy panties to the side as you were too eager to fully take them off. his eyes lit up with joy and his heart swelled at your words. he loved painting your gummy walls with his cum, filling you up to the brink with everything he had.

still straddling his lap, you lifted yourself off a bit, grabbing hold of his cock to align it to your slit. your cunt was practically drooling for ethan’s cock. a small hiss left your mouth as you sunk down, trying to adjust to how stretched out you felt.

ethan was big in length, a bit smaller in girth, but to you he was perfect either way. the way he fit into you, filled you up to the brim, moaned and whimpered out your name with such delicacy, would kiss your sopping cunt with his cock like he’ll never ever get anything like this ever again.. it was all so perfect and made you so cock drunk for him.

“fuck baby.. makin’ momma feel so good,” you felt ethan’s hands squeeze around your waist, slamming you down all the way to the base of his cock. you winced, feeling him brush against your cervix. you kissed ethan to muffle your noises and melted into his lips. his heartbeat grew faster as he placed one of his hands gently on the back of your head, kissing you more frantically as he leaned into the kiss. he needed you.. craved you.

“hnngg.. momma, ‘s so tight,” he said in between kisses. his hands lifted you up with ease and slammed you back down. “ah, ah- no touching.” ethan pulled away from the kiss to give you one of his pretty pouts like before. you smiled softly at him before bouncing all over his cock, making his face immediately contort in pleasure. a series of small whimpers, gasps, and ‘fuck’s left his puffy lips. his hands softly grabbed onto your hips, squeezing the warm and soft flesh, not being able to take his hands off you. as much as you wanted to swat away his hands, you couldn’t and you could no longer deny his sweet desire for you. he was being a good boy after all and just for you.

ethan’s stomach began to get tight once again, abs contracting. “w-wait.. wait momma i.. i wanna fuck into you, please?” he felt you stop bouncing, sitting down all the way to the point where your cunt took him at the base. “of course baby.. did you need me to lay back?” you questioned the curly-haired boy, eyes fixated on him. he nodded his head quickly as he pulled out, waiting for you to scoot over that way he can get you into the position he was dying to fuck you in. you couldn’t help but find it so adorable how excited he was. you sat on the side of the couch, eyes attentively watching your boyfriend move around.

he got off the couch and stood in front of you, taking hold of your pretty, plump legs. ethan’s hands pushed your legs against your chest, practically folding you like you were nothing but his little toy that he desperately wanted to please and be a good boy for. your tummy was so cute as it formed into two rolls; ethan absolutely adored it and probably would’ve came at the sight beneath him.

he slid in your tight cunt with ease, your slick covering him once more. a groan left both yours and ethan’s lips as he stuffed his cock into you, bottoming out. he took a quick moment to regain himself and by the time you knew it, he was fucking into you at such an animalistic pace. his thrusts were so deep, brushing against your cervix. all that you could say were a bunch of ‘fuck’s as your mind went hazy, no coherent thought in there! your hands clawed against e’s back, leaving pretty red marks that complimented his skin. “fuckkk ethan!” you felt ethan’s head nuzzle into your neck, peppering small kisses all over as his hips still drilled into you. that familiar knot began to wind in your lower stomach, threatening to break any second now. “‘m gonna cum babyboy.. momma feels so good,” you cooed out as your eyes were screwed shut, manicured nails still scratching at his back. “please, please cum,” he whispered into your ear, kissing it afterwards. his hips continued to drill into you, a bunch of stamina still running through his body. the knot came undone, snapping and you couldn’t help but clench around ethan’s cock. tears escaped your eyes, rolling down your rosy cheeks as your jaw fell slack, mouth agape.

“am i making you feel good momma?” he softly asked, tone sweet and innocent. the recognizable knot that once formed in his stomach before began to appear again, fast. he knew that with just a few more thrusts in and out of your sobbing cunt, he’d be spilling his cum all inside of your pretty womb. you nodded your head eagerly, “yes baby.. making momma feel so full,” you purred out, giving him reassuring caresses on his back with your thumb. “you gonna cum baby?” you could tell from his staggering hips and his unsteady breaths that he was so close to spurting out everything he had for you. ethan bobbed his head eagerly, whimpering out a small ‘mhm’. “good boy baby.. fill me up,” you cooed out once more. with just a few more thrusts of going in and out, like he had anticipated, repeatedly abusing your cunt to his full power, he collapsed; weight all against you, gushing out his cum inside your gummy walls. you could feel the thick, warm ropes of cum paint your insides and you purposely fluttered your cunt around him, just to milk out everything he had for you. gasps and stutters fell off of ethan’s puffy lips, hot breath against your ear.

as tired as you both seemed, ethan wanted to fill you up to the point where you could no longer take it. he planned on doing it. of course, he knew you would no longer deny him of his desperate wishes and needs and you would let him do whatever, given you were close to being too fucked out to notice his antics.

“we’re not done yet momma.”

#🍍 ˖˚˳⊹ ❝ xylea’s work .ᐟ #ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ ethan landry ❞#scream smut #scream #ethan landry scream #scream vi #scream vi smut #sub! ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader

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midnightwriter21 · 1 year

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demon slayer hcs: how you meet pt 2

characters: fem!reader x zenitsu, shinobu, tengen & his wives

warnings: spiders, minor injuries, polyamory

ZENITSU

he's a sweetheart omg

you guys meet in the forest with the spider demons

you're a slayer

a pretty strong one too. not hashira level but you're working on it

you're weakness?

spiders, bugs, anything creepy and crawly

but isn't that everyones weakness?

idk know how you were convinced to go fight a spider demon

bc personally? ain't no way

but anyways

you get separated from the group of slayers you were working with

so ur alone

when u hear some bushes rustling or som

so u look down and boom

a spider

with a human head

FUCK. THAT.

you take off running and i mean fast

so fast you can't even see where ur going

and bam u run head first

into zenitsu

who coincidently was running from the same thing as u

he realizes ur human, grabs ur hand and TAKES TF OFF

ZOOMMMMM

ur gone

until u meet spider demon w the house

zenitsu passes tf out, ur shitting urself just a little bit, and then

zenitsu handles tf out that demon

while asleep?!

hot af

sleepy zenitsu could get it

SHINOBU

idk somethin abt her irritates me

she still fine asf tho

shes a top fs

you're a slayer

and you were on an easy mission

prob a low ranked demon

and then shit

a lower moon pulls up

low key fucks u and ur comrades up

somehow yall kill it

and your brought back to the butterfly mansion to be treated

and we all know miss gurl shinobu is running that mf

so shes obv overseeing your recovery

for some reason the other slayers heal faster than you did

wonder why?

perhaps purposely ripping ur stiches to spend more time around a pretty lady?

noooooo you would neverrrr

thats exactly what u were doing

and shinobu knows it too

but she plays dumb cause she thinks its sweet that you admire her enough to delay your recovery and cause urself that pain

she does poke u a lil too hard when redoing ur stitches tho

takes care of u til ur ready to go on another mission

TENGEN + wives

he's so fine for what

can we make this foursome into a fivesome?

sooo ur not a slayer

ur not a kunoichi

not a fighter at all

just a cute lil civilian

you meet the wives before you meet tengen

you're out shopping

need some new clothes

or maybe you have an event that you need some new jewelry for

gotta look flashy yk

so you finish your shopping and walk out of the store when your knocked flat on ur ass

it was suma

she was running from makio after making her mad

and she ran straight. into. you.

she immediately burst into tears because she felt so bad

makio is yelling at her for knocking you down

and hina is trying to calm them both down

and ur jus like "wtf is goin on"

you feel fine until you stand up

you hit the ground again

ankle = sprained

que the guilty sobbing from suma

the girls carry you to a bench to assess the damage and this grabs tengens attention all they way from the inside of another store

like "who is getting attention from my wives?"

VERY UNFLASHY

jealous af

until he sees u

a cute little civilian women in pain

and his wives fawning over you

he introduces himself and gets the story of what happened

calms suma and makio down

and apologizes on their behalf

meanwhile ur in awe

um hello?? a literal god is standing in front of you apologizing for his wives

WIVES??

AS IN PLURAL? MORE THAN ONE???

he checks ur ankle

his hand wraps around ur entire leg

dudes hands are big af

not the only thing on him thats big

to make it up to you he carries you to a very flashy cafe

where you all sit and have tea and snacks together while you rest ur injured ankle

tengen pays

does this count as a first date??

i love them

#demon slayer #anime #tengen #tengen x reader #shinobu #shinobu x reader #zenitsu #zenitsu x reader #demon slayer x reader

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neteyamsoare · 9 months

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I Need You.

༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Lo’ak Sully x Fem! Omatikaya! Reader.

༉‧₊˚. Suggestion From [🌎 anon]. Hey Sia, hope you’re having a good week so far! I think for Are You Ashamed of me, Lo’ak and reader should get back together. As we’ve seen in ATWOW, Lo’ak seeks validation a bit since he’s often forgotten by his family and gets into trouble a lot as a result. I feel reader would be an extremely empathic person, being able to understand him better than anyone else. I don’t think he’d be able to go a super long time without them 😭 Maybe Lo’ak gets into another argument with Jake and the only other person he can really go to for comfort is reader, bursting into her marui suddenly in the midst of all his stress? Sorry if it’s a bit boring, I think it fits his personality a lot though!

༉‧₊˚. Summary. A month has passed since the breakup and you still haven’t spoken to each other til an argument pushes him into your arms.

༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Angst — fluff and a bit suggestive.

༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Aged up! Lo’ak, crying, hurt w comfort, an argument between Jake and Lo’ak [Jake’s just a worried dad], and Lo’ak has doubts about himself.

༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 2,3k.

༉‧₊˚. Index. Sa’nok — [mother], Ma — [you use it before a name, any kind of name, when you are talking to someone specifically], ‘ite — [daughter], Eywa — [also known as the All-Mother or Great Mother, is the biological sentient guiding force of life and the only known deity of the Na'vi], Ikran — [banshee], Oel ngati kameie — [I see you (greeting)], Oeyä — [my], and Syulang — [flower].

༉‧₊˚. Notes. 🌎 anon you really helped me with this, thank you so much. Part two wouldn’t have come out without you. I hope I did justice on this and I’m so happy that it reached 2,3k words, that’s exciting been a long while since I hit past 1k. I’m so happy to put out another Lo’ak story, I love him so much!! I hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what y’all think!! 🥰

༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist + Part One

You made your way to your family marui instead of your own since it was too soon to be there now after what happened between you and Lo'ak.

When you get there, you stand at the entrance as you watch your sa’nok put ingredients in a pot and stir it, you don’t make a noise to announce your arrival but she knows you were there before looking.

“Ma’ite, you made it in time for dinner, why don’t you go wash up?” she questioned as a smile formed on her face but it immediately disappeared once she looked over to where you stood, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she walked toward you, wiping away the tears staining your cheeks. “I messed up big time,” you cried as you inhaled deep breaths.

“Come and tell me everything,” she voiced as she motioned you to sit down at the makeshift table and once you do, you tell her everything, the first time you met Lo’ak, the time when you started to have feelings for him, the time he asked you to be his girlfriend and how he made you feel so happy, and by the time you told her what happened, you broke into more tears wishing that you could turn back time, you didn’t want to imagine a life without him.

“Why did you ever think your father and I would hate him?” she questioned and you let out a sniffle. “You guys are a big part of my life and I was just so scared you might not see him the way I do, I just…” You take a deep breath.

“I just did not want to lose either of you.” You fidget with your hands a bit and she takes your hand in hers as you make eye contact with her.

“‘Ite, we would never step in the way of your happiness, all we care about is if you’re happy,” she rubbed the back of your palm and formed a small smile on her face, you reminded her a lot of her when she was younger. “I screwed up and now he won’t ever want to talk to me again.”

“Give him some time, he’ll hear you out soon, from what you described I don’t think neither of you is ready to give the other up,” she said with a soothing voice and you flash a small smile to her hoping that what she said is true.

“Now go wash up, I made your favorite,” she exclaimed as she got up to check the pot as you go to clean yourself up, you couldn’t help but pray to Eywa that things between you and Lo’ak will be restored, you could only hope she’d answer your prayer.

One Month Later…

You hold on tight to the basket of fruits as you make your way home, you planned on making dinner but you needed a few ingredients first. Lo’ak was still avoiding you, disappearing every time you came in sight of him, you could never get used to the look of hurt on his face but you tried to stay calm, things will work out well you could only hope.

“[Name]!” a female voice calls out and you stop in your tracks and turn around to see who it is and once you do you notice Kiri and Spider sitting outside of her family hut putting blue paint on Spider.

You take a deep breath and smile. “Hi Kiri, Spider, it’s been a while,” you try to hold onto the smile as best as you can, not wanting to break down in front of them. “Yes it has been, how are you doing?” Kiri asked as she put down the blue paint and gives you her full attention.

“I’ve been better but I’m doing fine…” you pause for a bit, wanting to ask the question but you couldn’t find your voice. “He’s a wreck without you,” Kiri says noticing what you wanted to ask before even saying it.

“He misses you,” Spider chimes in and you open your mouth to say something but Tuk's voice cuts in from behind you and you turn to see her running with a huge smile.

“They’re coming, Kiri! Spider! [Name]! The war party is coming back! Come on, come on,” you smile at her excitement but it disappears when you can’t seem to move your foot to go in the direction they’re going, ‘would he even want to see me there?’ you thought to yourself and you notice that they’re all looking at you.

“Sister, are you coming?” Kiri questions as you shift your weight from one leg to the other holding on tightly to the basket. “No, you all go on ahead without me, I’ll be fine,” you flash a weak smile at them and begin to make your way to your home. The only thought on your mind was that you hoped he made it back safe.

Lo’ak dismounts his ikran, petting his neck to calm him down, he’s dreading being back since he messed up during the raid and Jake was furious with him.

“Fall in!” Jake yelled as he looked back at his two sons. “Sir, it wasn’t his-” Neteyam tried to defend him but got cut off by Jake.

“No Neteyam, you got to stop taking up for this knucklehead,” Jake responds in disappointment. “You’re supposed to be a spotter, you spot bogeys, and you call ‘em in. From a distance!” Jake yelled as Lo’ak held in a growl from escaping.

“I’m a warrior like you, I’m supposed to fight, you allow Neteyam on the field, why not me?” Lo’ak spoke out.

“You’re still making the same mistakes from when you were younger, why would I let you go on the field? You almost got your brother killed!” Jake shouted and Neytiri puts a hand on Jake's arm. “Ma’Jake, I think that’s enough,” she states with a stern look on her face. “I’m taking you out of the next couple of war parties until you learn how to be responsible, do you copy?” Jake voiced as he waited for a response. “Yes sir.”

“Go on, you’re dismissed,” As soon as Lo’ak heard that, he walked away, he didn’t want to be around none of them after what happened.

He was mad at his father, at the world, but mostly mad at himself that he couldn’t follow simple orders and once again reminded his father of his old irresponsible ways.

He didn’t know where to go, in times like this, he’d always go to you. You were the only one who understood him, who was able to make him feel better after an argument with his dad.

Where was he supposed to go now that you and him were over? Without him noticing, his feet took him to your hut, and stands at a distance looking at your hut debating on turning around and being alone.

‘Maybe she is not even home,’ he thought but the smell of his favorite food hits his nose, he lets out a sigh, and before he knows it, he closes the distance between him and your hut and stands in the entrance watching your beautiful frame sway your hips as you chop up things for the dish you were cooking as you hummed to your favorite song and a smile forms on his face.

When you finally notice his presence, the expression on your face becomes a shocked one as you didn’t think he would even want to be in your eyesight, the amount of times he had disappeared every time you were near him, a part of you even thinks it can’t be him, maybe you missed him so much that your mind created an illusion of him which you thought was a cruel joke.

Lo’ak doesn’t say a word, he just walks over to you and pulls you into his embrace, making you take the pot off the fire so it won’t burn. You return his hug as you take in his woodsy scent you missed so much, tears filled your eyes but you blinked them away. You didn’t even have to ask him what was wrong, a hug only meant that he had an argument with his father.

“You wanna talk about it?” You softly asked, if he didn’t want to, you wouldn’t force him, you would just rather hold him in your arms in silence until he felt better.

“… Yes I want to,” he intertwined his hand into yours and leads you to your mat, laying down first and you follow suit laying on top of him as you look up at him as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

Being this close to you made him notice just how much he missed you, just how much he yearned to have you in his arms again, and doesn’t know how he would manage to be without you after this.

He tells you everything that happened in the raid down to the argument with his father.

“Your dad just wants to make sure you’re safe, he’s just worried for you,” you spoke softly as you look up at him.

“Yeah, I know… I just don’t know how to stop messing up,” he lets out a breath. “I just want him to see that I changed from when I was younger, I just don’t know how to be like Neteyam,” your eyes widen at his words and you sit up and look down at him and he avoids your eye contact.

“Lo’ak, look at me,” you demand with a soft tone and it takes a minute before he connects eye contact with you.

“Don’t ever compare yourself to your brother, you’re your own person, and I love you for that,” You stated as you pick up his hand, wrapping your hand around his pinky.

“I don’t ever want you to change yourself to please anybody, we all make mistakes in our life at one point, what matters is we learn from them and improve.” You didn’t notice when the tears escaped your eyes but as Lo’ak sees them roll down your face, he sits up and immediately wipes them away as a sob escapes your mouth.

He pulls you into his chest and you cried into it as he rubs your back trying to soothe you.

“I…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” you wept as you bury your face more in his chest, your ears pinned back against your head and your tail drooped low.

“I just didn’t want to lose you but ended up losing you anyway.” You pull away and look everywhere else but at him, he brings his index and pointer finger to your chin, gently moving your jaw up so you can look directly into his eyes.

“[Name], you could never lose me, I don’t think I could be able to manage without you by my side,”

“This past month was horrible without you, I spent my days wishing you were with me, wishing I can hear that laugh I fell in love with,” you smile at his words.

“I missed you so much that I even think my own family would have kicked me out if I didn’t get back to you soon.” you let out a small laugh and his eyes lit up from hearing it, a small smile forming on his face.

“Can we start over?” you queried as you lift a hand to his that laid on your cheek, rubbing it softly as you look into his eyes.

“I know I have a lot of making up to do but I promise from now on, no more lies, just the truth.”

“I wanna work this out with you just as long as we stay truthful to each other, that’s the only way we can work,” he stated with a serious tone and expression on his face.

“And I believe in second chances, plus I need you,” he says as a smirk appears on his face.

“In more ways than one.” he earns a laugh out of you and you playfully shove him, as you quiet down, you both stare into each other’s eyes as you slowly lean close to each other, he captures your lips in his and the kiss is so gentle, you both take your time with as you open your mouth slightly and he takes this as a chance to slip his tongue through, tongues dancing around each other as he pulls you closer to him.

You missed the feeling of his kiss on yours that if you didn’t need to breathe, your lips would stay on his forever.

You both pull away at the same time as you tried to catch your breath. “I don’t know how I ever went without your lips for so long,” he panted as you giggle, placing your head on his chin a bit. “Oel Ngati Kameie,” you spoke looking up into his eyes, he smiles as he repeats the words as he lays a kiss on top of your forehead before pulling you into his embrace.

You lean into his touch getting comfortable before remembering about dinner with your parents and you hadn’t even finished cooking yet which makes you jump up out of his hold to return to the pot so you can finish cooking since they would be here any minute. “I completely forgot, my parents are coming over for dinner soon, you want to meet them?”

His ears are pinned up when he hears you ask him that. “You want me to meet them?” he questioned as he got up from his spot.

“Of course I do, they get to meet the guy who is always putting a smile on my face and is the love of my life,” you smile as you look over at him and a flustered smile forms on his face as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist burying his face into your neck as he takes in your lovely scent as his tail wags behind him.

“I love you, oeyä syulang.” you smile heavily at his words. “I love you too.”

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louvaem · 1 year

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flickers of light — one ; kindling (reuploaded)

☆ aemond targaryen x gn!reader, house targaryen x gn!reader (platonic)

☆ summary: when the Light of the Realm – beloved in all of Westeros – begins to succumb to an illness that even the most skilled and wizened Maesters cannot treat, the royal inhabitants of the Red Keep must hold onto the flickers of light through memories of moments, before the Stranger snuffs them out. — 5k words

☆ warnings/tags: angst, terminal illness, mutual pining, friends to sort-of-lovers to strangers, dance of the dragons never happened and we'll see why, set 10 years after the dance should have happened, this is a fix-it fic basically, rhaenicent is very important to me, no use of y/n and no descriptions of reader, massive time jump, everyone gets along. enjoy!

News of the Light of the Realm's terminal state arrives at the Red Keep at the hour of the owl, on the 15th day of the twelfth moon of the year 139 AC, as a storm lashes above the Crownlands.

The halls of the Keep are empty, save for one Maester whose slipper-clad feet patter against the stone floors in earnest. A thin length of parchment threatens to crumple in his fist, and tears collect in his eyes as the words on the tiny scroll turn over and over in his mind.

A particularly loud howl of wind blows through the corridor, sweeps the cap off his head and blows out a few torch lights as it passes. The Maester continues on without pause, however, purpose and pain fueling his strides as he reaches the Queen’s quarters.

The Dowager Queen Alicent faces the window of her solar, unable to sleep due to the relentless wails of the storm.

“It rages as if we are in Storm's End,” she mutters, her eyes tracking the rivulets of rain that slide down the glass. Worry creases her forehead over thoughts of the city folk who’ve no proper lodging, and she makes a mental note to speak to the small council about building more shelters for the needy.

A hum from behind her ripples through the quiet.

“Perhaps Lord Baratheon has convinced the gods to spare his lands for a night,” The Queen Rhaenyra jests, voice soft as she stares at the crackling flames warming the room.

She sips her tea after, eyes meeting Alicent’s as their heads both turn to look at the other. Rhaenyra’s lips curl around the edge of the teacup, a smile hidden by the ceramic. But Alicent knows it’s there, and she smiles back.

“Thank you for lending your company, my Queen,” she starts, legs carrying her at a steady pace towards Rhaenyra. “Sleep does not come easily to me when the sky seems like it is falling.”

Alicent takes Rhaenyra’s hand not holding a teacup in both of her own. She looks down at her companion, noting the way the slope of her nose is more prominent in the orange shadows of the fire.

Rhaenyra returns her gaze through eyelashes, and her hand flips to tightly hold onto Alicent’s.

“You need not thank me, lo–”

A knock cuts the endearment off. Rhaenyra sighs, but does not pull away as Alicent grants entrance to the person at the door.

Ser Harrold steps in, bowing before the two queens. If he notices the tender aura that envelops the women, he does not mention it. Though, a conscious simper forms on his lips.

“Apologies, my lady, your grace,” he starts, and steps to fully push the doors open, “Maester Corren bears urgent news from Oldtown.”

Alicent’s brows knit together once again. Oldtown?

“Oldtown?” Rhaenyra echoes the other queen’s thoughts. “What news from Oldtown cannot wait to be heard ‘til the morning?”

The Kingsguard side-steps to let the Maester inside, the chained man swift in his movements to plant himself in the middle of the room.

“My sincerest apologies, your grace,” Maester Corren’s usually seasoned and stoic tone trembles as he speaks, and he holds his down-turned fist out to offer the parchment to Alicent.

“I would not come at this late an hour if it was not distressing,” he continues.

“Corren, what has shaken you?” Alicent questions him. After a beat, it dawns on her what news from Oldtown might mean.

“Has something happened at the High Tower? To Daeron, or my father?” She cannot help but ask aloud, not wanting to accept the parchment yet.

She receives only shakes from the head of the Maester, and his chains clank against each other from the movement. The two queens watch as the trained scholar reaches up with his other palm to wipe at his face.

“Please,” he pleads, as if a young child. “I know this is most uncouth, but I cannot bear to read it again, your graces.”

Alicent looks down at her queen, their hands still grasping one another’s. With a nod from Rhaenyra, Alicent releases her hold and turns her palm face up to accept the scroll. The Maester releases it, as if it’s burned him, and takes a step back.

She unfurls the paper with surprisingly steady fingers, unwilling to let her nerves get the better of her. Once she reads the writing on the scroll, however, she understands why the Maester trembles all over.

The red-haired queen barely registers Rhaenyra urging the shaken Maester to sit as she herself takes a deep inhale to steady her breathing. Alicent’s eyes rake over the tiny parchment multiple times, not believing the words before her.

“Alicent?” Rhaenyra sees her turn towards the window again, head ducked and both hands clutching the scroll. “What is it? What has happened?”

Rhaenyra catches her utterance of the word light, and one look at Ser Harrold is enough to have the older knight take over with assisting Maester Corren. She tries again to capture Alicent’s mutterings, coming up right beside her to grasp her elbow in a gentle hold.

“My dear,” Rhaenyra whispers, soft enough that only she and her doe-eyed companion can hear. “Look at me, please.”

The sorrow in the Dowager Queen's gaze washes over Rhaenyra's entire being. The corners of Alicent's mouth struggle to keep from quivering as she tries to relay the news, but sounds refuse to form in her throat.

"It's alright, you do not have to speak," Rhaenyra reassures. She gestures with her palm for the scroll. "May I?"

Rhaenyra takes the miniscule parchment from Alicent, who offers no resistance. The paper curls again as Rhaenyra pinches it between her thumb and forefinger, her other hand reaching up to brush away a tear that has found its way out of Alicent's wide eyes. Her heart aches at the sight, and she wonders what news the little parchment holds to have had cast such a large wave of emotion over everyone around her.

Alicent’s eyes flutter to a close, and she ducks her head again as Rhaenyra finally looks upon the writing. She hears a gasp, and when Alicent glances up, Rhaenyra holds the same grief on her face that she’s sure she mirrors.

After a beat of silence, Maester Corren is the first to speak.

"The Prince Aemond should know."

"No," Alicent answers all too quickly. "It can wait until the morn–"

"I beg your pardon, your grace, but you know it cannot," he interrupts. He stands from where Ser Harrold has sat him down on a chaise, voice reverting back to the neutral yet firm tone of a chained Maester.

Rhaenyra watches as Alicent's posture straightens at the man's tone, watches Alicent steel and ready herself to retort at the Maester's apparent lack of respect. Before she can, however, he continues.

"You've read the scroll," he says. "By the end of the moon, the illness will take hold no later than when the first rays of light hit the sphere of the Citadel."

Rhaenyra hears a shaky exhale come from Alicent, whose hand maneuvers to clutch at Rhaenyra's forearm for support. She surrenders it, lets the Dowager Queen lean against her.

"Corren, you must understand," Rhaenyra is gentle in her address. "This news... it will break him."

"Please, your grace," the Maester pleads. "My dear cousin has suffered far too much; this illness has taken far too much."

No one talks but the Maester, as everyone in the chamber knows the truth in his sayings.

"If you could read the letters I have received... the hurt I have deciphered, embedded in my cousin's handwriting. Please, my queens, do not sequester away things that you can so easily give."

"And what are those, Maester?" Rhaenyra poses.

"Relief," his scholarly façade ripples away for but a moment. "Healing... Love."

Rhaenyra feels her jaw clench, feels Alicent's grip on her arm tighten, feels Ser Harrold's stare on her face, waiting for a command. She glances at her friend, her closest companion– with her head bowed and shoulders heaving, a finger picking at the cuticles of the same hand. She glances back at the Maester, notes the way his voice wavers slightly at the mention of his cousin, notes the fact that he has never faltered in his duties as first and foremost a Maester of the Red Keep, until now.

When she looks at Ser Harrold, Rhaenyra notes the hesitation on his face. He knows what is right, what must be done, what must be said aloud, but cannot acknowledge what is so until she commands it so.

For the sake of the queen beside her, however, she does not say the words. As Ser Harrold's gaze meets hers, she simply nods. He knows.

Only the sound of the crackling fire can be heard, along with the clinking of the knight’s armour, as he moves to grasp Maester Corren firm on the shoulder.

Before his gloved hand can make contact, Alicent speaks.

"There is no need, Ser Harrold."

Her hold on Rhaenyra's arm loosens, and ultimately falls away. Alicent steps towards the Maester, and for a moment Rhaenyra sees fear flash in his eyes. But as Alicent reaches forward to hold Corren's upper arm in comfort, the fear is replaced with something akin to gratitude.

"You are right, Corren," Alicent says, understanding. "It will break him, yes, but perhaps... perhaps it can also heal him. As reconciliation often does."

She continues, "Your cousin had once granted me these things you speak of."

Her gaze comes back to meet Rhaenyra's, tone reminiscent.

"So, what am I if not ungrateful, if I were to deny such things from the Light of the Realm?"

The two queens' illuminated smiles hold a twinge of melancholy to them. If the men in the room know of the reasons, of the events, of the love behind such smiles, they do not say.

Prince Aemond's light dims, to a darker dullness he thought was not possible, at the beginning of the hour of the wolf.

He’s sat atop the bed, sapphire eye uncovered, knees bent to accommodate the tome he cradles in his lap. There’s a familiar heft to it, having been in the prince's possession for nearly a decade. Its spine cracked beyond care, its pages dog-eared, margins riddled with writing.

Though, the ink on the paper remains as fresh as can be. The book rarely leaves the four walls of the prince's quarters, sunlight never having the chance to fade its text.

It has become a comfort to the prince, despite its heavy weight and heavier content. Though, it is not solely the scholarly content that draws the prince to reach for the tome every night, tucked away in his bedside drawer, before he surrenders to sleep.

Tis more so what lies in between the lines: illustrations scribbled over with black coal, highlighted passages, notes, reminders to pursue treatments that he once believed would be successful.

"Once I have a dragon, we will fly to the Citadel and have the Archmaesters conduct this," he had said, underlining the title of a procedure he thought had the most chance of curing an illness that threatened his companion.

"They would not dare deny a prince of the realm, I swear it."

Aemond’s forefinger traces the curve in a diagram of the human backbone as he recalls the promise he had made and failed to keep, though to no fault of his own. Still, the ache in his chest makes itself known once again, as recognizable as the tome he clutches.

Pages fly wildly about when a gust of wind manages to slip through a crack in a window. Aemond can only watch as the candles in his room dance and writhe until most of them flicker out, the scent of melted wax left to fester in the air.

A sigh escapes him. His sole eye strains to make out a passage with whatever light remains in the room, but the darkness swallows his bed area too much. As he contemplates whether to take this as a sign from the gods to rest, or to relight the candles and continue on, a knock sounds at his door.

Brow and marred skin crease together in confusion.

"Ser Arryk?" he calls out, unsure of which knight of the Kingsguard had taken station outside his chambers for the night.

The sudden arrival of the storm had scrambled the usual routine of the Red Keep, adding to that three of the Kingsguard having left to trail after members of the royal family who had ventured out into the Kingswood for a day or two of hunting.

Of the nephews, cousins, and siblings, only Aemond chose to remain– knowing in himself that he was lately not one for prolonged interactions, even if it was solely his family he'd be around.

"I would only dampen the mood, sister," he said to Helaena, tone playful. She carried Baela's youngest in her arms, the mother having stepped away for a few moments. "Bring me back one of those rare crawling creatures you are so fond of, won’t you?"

Helaena beamed at the request. She bounced the toddler excitedly on her hip, lilted voice asking the not-yet verbal babe what insects they might find in the forests. The child giggled in response, just as Jace and Luke walked into the room, hunting gear in their arms. Aemond noted the way Jace's eyes lit up at the sound of his child's laughter.

"Nephews," Aemond greeted them. Had he been the man that he was 10 years ago, malice and disdain would've seeped into his voice. Instead, he continued, genuine concern for his family coating his following advice.

"Be wary of your surroundings," he had said, grasping Luke's shoulder, "look out for one another."

When he asks again, it is not Ser Arryk who answers.

"It is me," his mother's voice calls out instead. "And Rhaenyra."

Aemond's puzzlement only grows, though not at the presence of his half-sister. He had long ago grown accustomed to the sight of the two women near each other after his father's death and the family's reconstitution– a process which had not settled so easily in him as it did in the matriarchs of their house.

No, his uncertainty at this moment comes from their joint company at such time of night. Nothing good nor godly has ever greeted Aemond during the wolf's hour.

"May we come in?" Rhaenyra says, muffled by the wood of the chamber door.

Aemond realizes that he's only clad in his breeches and a loose white poet shirt, hardly appropriate attire to wear in front of both Queens of the realm. He scrambles to where his dressing robe hangs by his bed and wastes no time in tying it closed before he whips the door open.

"Mother," he nods to Alicent before addressing his half-sister. "Your grace."

He takes in the sheen on his mother's face, and Rhaenyra's right arm outstretched behind her, no doubt on the small of her back in a steadying effort. Their solemn expressions pierce a needle of anxiety through him, the once stoic and confident one-eyed prince now overtaken with clammy hands and shaky breaths. He remembers his family stranded by the storm in the Kingswood, protected by sworn knights yet still vulnerable to the wrath of nature.

"What is the matter?” Aemond cannot help the worrying rambles that leave his mouth. “Has something happened to the hunting party? I can take Vhagar to retrieve them from the Kingsw–"

Rhaenyra's hand raising makes him pause. "They are alright, dear brother, you needn't worry."

"Apologies, sister," he says, sheepish. Aemond steps aside to allow them entrance. "Please, come in."

Alicent is first to cross into the threshold with Rhaenyra close behind. It is only when she passes Aemond that he realizes his mother has yet to look him in the eye.

He observes as Alicent settles herself down onto a seat around the center table of his quarters. Her gaze remains downcast, not meeting his.

"A Record of Incurable Illnesses in the Known Realm," Rhaenyra says aloud, tone questioning, eyes on the cover of the tome that he had haphazardly thrown upon the table in his haste. "Do not tell me you plan on forging a maester's chain, lēkia."

"I was doing some nightly reading," Aemond admits, though he's familiar enough with Rhaenyra's joking tone that he knows she is not fully using it. She knows why he reads what he reads, and he is thankful that she does not speak it plainly.

He hears his mother breathe in at the mention of the book, as though to brace herself. Aemond thinks she might plainly speak on it.

The prince decides he shall be forthright, not pleased with the feeling of his body physically manifesting his anxiety. His jaw clenches, and sweat begins to pool in the dip of his back despite the chilly air of the night.

"As much as I enjoy your company, my queens, I must ask, why have you graced me with it at such an hour?"

"Aemond," his mother at last looks up at him. Her eyes brim with tears. "A raven from Oldtown arrived earlier, at the hour of the owl."

His mouth runs dry. "Is it Daeron? Or grandsire?"

Aemond’s mind forbids itself from wondering about the only other person residing in Oldtown worth mentioning.

He does not miss the quaking exhale from Rhaenyra, who speaks when Alicent seems at a loss for words. "It came from the Citadel."

He goes still, as if turned to stone.

A cold rush starts from the tips of his fingers, and it spreads to his arms, to his torso, and grips his spine. The last word his sister had uttered melts into a continuous ringing in his ears which grows and grows until even the storm outside ceases to exist.

Numbness has rendered him immobile, he thinks, he is rooted to his spot.

And then he mutters a name his lips had not formed in years A name that he has not heard anyone say in his vicinity, in fear of what his reaction might be.

Your name comes out in a whisper. Posed as a question that he prays they leave unanswered.

He's undeserving to speak it with full volume. He fears that merely allowing his throat to form the sounds of it will make it so, manifest it into reality.

And Aemond thinks, when Rhaenyra nods in confirmation, what a twisted reality this has become.

She continues speaking, though the pealing in his ears has grown louder ten-fold and permits him to decipher only bits and pieces.

Raven... Maester Corren... take hold...

He sees Rhaenyra pull out a strip of paper and begin to read from it.

Aemond needs to sit down. Instead, he stumbles back, shoulder bumping against the wall. He vaguely hears the scraping of a chair–vaguely registers the arms that find purchase under his to keep him upright. He hears his mother call out his name, though it sounds distant and dampened. He sees his sister halt mid-statement, arms out in a ready stance to assist Alicent if need be.

But when Aemond's eye stares into hers, when he briefly glances at the parchment curled around her fingers, she knows what he is asking for and carries on reading.

"... most likely succumb to the illness not long after the first rays of light hit the sphere of the Citadel on the last day of this moon. We urge you – visit while you can, before the Stranger comes, while there is still time left."

"Aemond," his mother repeats. "Come, let us take a seat."

Alicent pulls her arms away from under his. She opts to clutch at his forearm instead and attempts to tug him towards a chair.

But Aemond is stock-still against the wall. The last sentence echoes in his mind.

Visit while you can.

While you are still alive.

Before the Stranger comes.

Death had not taken you yet.

While there is still time left.

He still had time.

The prince is shaken out of his stupor when another gust of wind flitters about his room, the howl of it catching his mother off-guard.

"Mother," he turns to her, places his hand atop hers that holds onto him. "I must go."

Alicent peers at her son for a moment to search his face. What she expects to find, he doesn't know. He half-expects her to argue, to protest against his admittedly rash and unspoken plan of action, and he fails to conceal his surprise when his mother does neither.

Alicent’s hands move to either side of his face, and he feels the press of a kiss to his forehead, where his scar topmost starts. A sad smile graces her face as she gazes into her son’s eyes.

“I know.”

He can see his mother's internal qualms with his leaving at such an hour, in such weather, but she does not voice them.

The Queen does, however.

"The storm is unrelenting," Rhaenyra states. "Too dangerous to face alone.”

“You’d have me wait?”

You’d have me wait, have me prolong my suffering even longer? Aemond wants to say, though he bites his tongue.

“That is not what I meant, lekia,” Rhaenyra says, soft, against his own firm voice. “You need not face it alone; I shall accompany you on Syrax."

“No,” Aemond blanches, the memories of what had almost occurred the last time dragons flew amidst a storm flashing through his mind.

“You… you are needed here, my queen,” he tries to reason.

"Aemond,” Rhaenyra tuts, worry in her voice. “You may ride the largest dragon, but even Vhagar might not be a match for the gales of wind that plague the skies tonight."

“Perhaps,” he starts. “But our family stays stranded, with no dragons, in the Kingswood. One of us should keep near, should they need assistance."

I will not be able to protect you, he wants to say. Not when my thoughts are elsewhere.

Aemond squeezes his mother's hand once, twice, smiles at her and lets her go to step towards Rhaenyra. She contemplates his statement, though part of her knows he is right.

But they are siblings, and Aemond's stubbornness is her own.

"Then perhaps wait and see if the storm breaks by sunrise," Rhaenyra suggests. "If it does not, then at the very least you will have light in the rain. But do not venture out during the night's darkest hour– not with this downpour added to it."

Aemond turns her counsel over in his mind. "Do you say this to me as queen?"

"I say this to you as your sister,” she stares at him fondly. “Though, you might consider, your older sister."

He glances at Alicent, who now stands once more beside Rhaenyra, and merely shrugs. "It is your choice, my son. I leave it to you."

There is not a trace of hesitation in his being. “Then I shall forge ahead to the Citadel.”

At that, he moves to turn to his wardrobe. He's eager to change into his riding leathers as quick as he can – when Aemond catches Rhaenyra's loving glance at his mother. And as Alicent returns the queen's gaze with equal, if not more, affection – an epiphany he had years ago, when he first lost your companionship over his foolishness and shortcomings, comes back to him.

You did this, he echoes in gratitude what he had once said to you in anger. You are the one I have to thank for this happiness.

(He still remembers the word he used then – this farce.)

“Mandia,” Aemond calls out to his sister, steps faltering. Rhaenyra meets his gaze— one that once held indifference and disdain towards her, now only full of gratitude and kinship.

“Thank you,” is all he breathes out.

Rhaenyra nods in understanding. “I shall follow after you with the others once they’ve returned from the Kingswood.”

The two queens watch as Aemond moves about with a fervor they’d not seen in the one-eyed prince for nearly a decade.

“Here you are,” Alma lifts a cup to your lips, its contents steaming. “Steady, dear.”

The fragrant tea is warm as you sip it, and you sigh in relief at the wonders it does to soothe your aches and pains. You sink deeper into the soft bed, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment, still slightly heavy with sleep.

“Thank you, Alma,” you say, voice shaky, as you gaze up at her. “Your tea is magical, and tasty, as always.��

She beams at your compliment and brings the cup up for another sip.

“Thank you, though I wish I could take credit for the beneficial parts of the concoction, dear light,” Alma says. “You know it is your cousin who has developed its base, I merely added the herbs to make it more bearable for consumption.”

Her use of your epithet does not go unnoticed by you.

“Hm, still, thank you for making it so,” you hum. “And you know I’m not particularly fond of that name, Alma.”

“Tis an apt title, in my opinion,” she retorts. Alma sets the cup down on the table by your bedside, afterwards reaching over to lovingly caress your hair.

“And one most deserved,” she adds, in a quiet voice. You can only grace her with a small smile, knowing that an argument with her will only end up with you frustrated and her ever more triumphant.

Alma leaves your side to flit about the room, tidying up the blankets at the foot of your bed and using the rag on her shoulder to wipe down the dust on the many shelves of books. She chats while she moves about, though her attempts at asking you questions about what literature you crave to read next are mostly ignored.

Your attention favours the arched window on the far-right wall of your chamber— large and low enough on the wall for you to be able to look at the world beyond from where you lay, bedridden. One of its stained-glass panels had been cracked open, and a light breeze jostles the short green drapes that frame the window. Not so distantly, the High Tower gleams solid white against the blue morning sky, an ever constant and looming presence, a permanent fixture within the limited view your chamber window offers.

The sight of the tall structure, clean and angular, never fails to remind you of the man half-descended from the family charged with its care.

A small crick forms in your neck from the prolonged turn of your head, and you slowly face forward again to avoid the discomfort turning into an ache. In your periphery, the High Tower remains, and so do thoughts of the man.

You cannot help the question that leaves your mouth.

“Have any ravens arrived from the Crownlands?” From the Red Keep, you mean to say, though Alma knows you well enough to know what hides behind the generalization, but kind enough to not point it out. You’ve asked the question many times to many others in the past few days, since the Citadel raven left with the Maesters’ scroll secured to its leg.

“I’ve not heard anything from the rookery,” she turns to you with a rehearsed answer. “There’s apparently quite atrocious weather over the capital, I don’t expect creatures of any kind would want to venture out into it.”

“I see,” you say, deflated. She turns at the change of pitch in your tone.

“Soon, dear light,” Alma reassures you from her spot in front of the bookshelves, kind gaze taking in your solemn expression.

You look up at her, grace her with a small smile and a nod in understanding. “Right, soon.”

“Now,” she says, determined to distract you from your anxiety. “I do think it’s about time to break fast.”

“Oh, I’m alright,” you start. “I’m not that hungry—”

Your stomach grumbles in discontent, the sound bouncing off the stone walls of your chambers.

Alma raises her eyebrows, as if to say What were you saying?

“Fine,” you sigh. “But something small, please. I don’t have much of an appetite, truly.”

“I’ll ask the cook for a warm meal,” Alma counters. “A large, warm meal.”

“Alma—” your groan is cut off by another, stronger growl, though this time not accompanied by the familiar vibrations of hunger in your stomach. Alma lets out a laugh at the noise.

“My!” she exclaims, hands on her hips as she looks at you. “Maybe some pastries as well, then? I’ll have Blythe fetch some from the bakery.”

“That wasn’t me,” you whisper, brows furrowing. Alma’s amused expression morphs into one of confusion, likely mirroring your own.

“What—”

A roar, loud as a crack of thunder and close enough that you feel it shake your bones, rattles the chamber. Dust falls from the ceiling, and your frail trembling fingers clutch at the sheets either side of you.

“Seven Hells!” Alma yelps. She drops the rag in her hand and strides to your bed. She sits down beside you and takes your hand. “What in the gods’ name was that?”

You don’t answer her, though an inkling feeling develops in your mind as you painfully whip your head to peer out the window. The quaking had caused the pane to open even more ajar, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight you see.

The High Tower remains grand in the distance, though its domineering presence is now diminished by the shade of a winged shadow, which grows and grows until the being attached to it comes into view. It circles the tower twice around before it flies to land on an empty hill, stretching its wings and letting out another quaking roar.

Alma lets out a shaky breath beside you. “Is that…”

You nod, silently, to answer her trailed off question. The crick in your neck reappears, though you pay it no mind.

“Vhagar.”

☆ translations: lēkia= brother, mandia = sister

☆ this is a REUPLOAD bcs i didn't like the ending of the first version. also i chose the most hectic time of my life to start writing a multi-chapter fic so only the gods know when i'll be able to update this lol.

is this bad, is this good? let me know what you think!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #hotd fic #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #rhaenyra targaryen x alicent hightower #rhaenicent #hotd angst #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfiction

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hotchs-big-hands · 6 months

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okay girlie hand kink hotch

you were a little late so when you got to the round table room you scooted past aaron with a quickly muttered 'sorry im late' and as you pass aarons chair you put your hands on his shoulders to scoot by and the tips of his ears go red and he clears his throat before saying "its no problem. someone can catch you up on the way to the air field" and looking back at the gruesome crime scene photos, which quickly put the delicious burning sensation on aarons shoulders out of his mind.

walking around together outside the crime scene tape to determine wether the attack was contained to the scene or if it was spread out over a larger area and when you use your hand to tap on his chest and point out what looks like a smear of dried blood on a seemingly abandoned car and he cant help himself but to ask "did you get your bails done yesterday? they look good" and now youre BOTH blushing.

aaron being flustered because while you were calming down and interviewing a traumatized child you slowly start to braid her hair to lull her into a sense of safety and he watches your fingers so intently as they flex and twist the strands of her hair together. he wants to shoot himself for getting so bothered over such an innocent moment.

hes laying on his bed in hotel room. its late and hes so fucking pent up from spending all god damn day getting riled up over you and your fucking hands. he needs a release and he needs it soon. so here he is, pajama pants pushed down, his sick sticking out of the slit in his boxers, and his left hand firmly gripping his heavy cock and stroking it. his mind is flooded with the vision of your hands. if you have soft dainty little hands hes thinking about how good theyll feel on his cock, stroking him to completion and rubbing against his skin. if you have larger rougher hands hes imaging how it would feel to have them gripping in his hair and scratching down his back.

hes so close, biting his shirt as to bot make noise, hips thrusting up off the bed to match to pace his hand is stroking. his eyes are rolling back and the pressure is building and building and- theres someone knocking on his door. he freezes for a moment before stroking again, whoever it is can wait til morning. hes sleeping. but then they knock again, louder. horny, tired and now pissed off, he shoves himself in his pants as quick as he can and marches to the door, bitterness welling up inside him as the subtle pain of blue balls creeps up (???im not a penis haver idk if thats accurate lmfao where is criminalskies when you need them) until he opens the door and realizes its you.

and for some reason, you look about as pent up and wrecked as he feels. he doesnt really remember exactly how it happened. one moment hes standing at the door asking if youre alright and the next hes sittingg on the edge of the bed, leaned back on one elbow with his other hand tangled in the sheets. head tipped back, eyes shut and mouth open spilling out soft sighs and little whimpers. both of your hands are wrapped around his cock, slowly slowly moving up anna down, twisting your wrists and leaning down and give kittenish locks to his tip. now it might be the fastest aaron's ever cum since high school, but good fucking damn was it worth it.

hes just hoping he still has a job when you guys get back to quantico. and the chance to get your hands on him again.

unedited idgaf its late and horny hour we ride like men with our typos and convoluted ramblings.

A W O O G A AAAAAAAAA I LOVE THIS IM 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 WOW YEAH SKSKFJRJFJWJDJAJSJ

G o d him looking at his cum dripping from your fingers would absolutely wreck his brain I'm so fucking sure of it. He's never been so turned on in a while.

#💌 ah asks #nsfw.#cutie kenzie

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afanofmanyships · 1 month

Text

WTDS Iruma-kun! Prompt #1

tw: venting

———————————————————————————

I, 1,000%, believe that Iruma was a cannibal at one point because

AN’T!

NO!

WAY!

That this child just survived in that FOREST til his teen years unless he, IN EMERGENCY CASES, had eaten another human being!!

I DON’T BELIEVE THAT HE COULD’VE SURVIVED THAT LONG WITH HIS NEGLECTFUL PARENTS FORGETTING THAT HE EXISTS UNLESS THEY NEED HIM!

Bitch know how to kill, and DID, a BEAR at FOUR FUCKING YEARS OLD!!

Yeah you can say, uhh, stored rations and can go out to get more! But what if a storm happens and he stocked up and it lasts longer than expected. His stock runs out! The storm got heavier he go out! He starves and starves day after day, the storm is NOT letting up. It continues it mean streak, Iruma passes out from hunger and he continues to wake up and pass out from hunger for days maybe even weeks!

Iruma’s parents conveniently ‘remembered’ that their son is still out THERE in that TERRIBLE storm and that they, AS PARENTS, searched for days for ANY SIGN him only to catch a high fever. And only we’re strong enough to pick up the phone to call our kind neighbor’s to ask them to go search for their son *cough**cough**cough* and house him for them!! Oh~ you expected.

Where is he? He usually plays in the forest, he loves the forest so much that he set up a BLUE TENT so that he can sleepover with the animals! ISN’T THAT ADORABLE!! Yes yes! Thank you, so much we don’t know how to repay you! Oh~ you don’t want to be repaid and want to make sure that that little Irumy is okay!

They find Iruma.

Take him home.

Lays him in bed.

Heats up leftovers and cooks some food.

Starts running a bath.

Iruma wakes up.

He does not know any other human except his own parents.

He is feral and thinks like an animal.

They don’t know that they shouldn’t turn their backs to him.

Sees that Iruma is awake.

Goes to call Iruma parent’s.

The other is still cooking.

Iruma’s mom picks up.

All she hears are screams.

The other turns off the stove and rushes out of the kitchen to look for his roommate.

The other finds her on the ground.

Iruma stabs him in the back of the head and drags the knife down.

Iruma stabs him under the neck then dragged it down.

Iruma’s mom waits until it’s silent.

Iruma repeats the maneuver over and over.

Iruma starts stabbing the bodies over and over to make sure that they stayed down.

Iruma stops.

Iruma’s mom starts calling him over.

“Iruma~ Iruma~ Iruma~!”

Iruma looks over at the home phone.

He puts it up to his ear.

“Iruma~! Is that you baby~?”

“Mowmy.”

“Yes baby~?”

“Irumys hungwry.”

“Don’t worry darling~. There’s a bath running for your stinky self and~ plenty of ingredients for that fresh human meat you have with you~.”

Iruma let’s go of the home phone.

Iruma’s mom is still on the phone.

Iruma goes to were the water is running.

He turns off the faucet and gets in the tub.

Iruma’s mom waits until he comes back.

Iruma walks into the kitchen and walks out with a butcher knife.

Iruma’s mom hears his approach.

“Iruma~ Iruma~ Iruma~!”

He puts the phone near his ear.

“Uhm!”

“Now now Irumy~. Remember your manners~!”

“Irumys sorwy mowmy…”

Iruma’s mom sighs.

“It’s okay baby~. Mommy just wanted to remind you clean up EVERYTHING after you are done eating~! Then come home~! Okay baby~!”

“Yes mowmy! Okay mowmy!”

He leaves the phone and started cutting the ‘meat’.

Iruma goes to the kitchen to grab some bowls and ingredients.

He grab a few strainers then put the meat in and placed it in the sink.

He grabbed some pans and turns on the stove.

Iruma’s mom hangs up.

Iruma’s dad walks through the front door.

“Honey~ why are you smiling~? Did something good happen~?”

“Dearest,” turns excitedly to her husband, “I’ve won the bet~!”

She gets off the bed and helps her husband get out of his camouflage gear.

“Aww~,” her husband stomps playfully, “I for sure thought he’ll attack them in his natural habitat~!”

She laughs, “that’s what you get for challenging my knowledge on Iruma~!”

He frowns as his wife steps back from him.

“Yeah~. I really shouldn’t have~!”

“Now~,”

He looks up at his wife.

“-let’s talk about my reward~.”

She unties her robe revealing lacy underwear.

“Oh~”

She reps her arms around his neck and steps closer.

He begins kissing her passionately.

“Remember to wear a condom this time.”

He umf’s in conformation.

Right under their floor is a man who has family staying over. They were originally there to help him move out but then the storm hit. The reason for his move is because of the ‘family’ upstairs.

He was lucky that his family was watching a horror movie when the screams started.

There’s a knock on the door. On a normal day he would have answered. No matter the time of day. Especially if it’s Iruma at the door. When it’s a normal day, he would’ve brought Iruma in. Cooked up some food, tell him that he doesn’t need to apologize or do anything other than eat, bath, and sleep. But it’s not a normal day.

On storms like these. The ones that last more than a week. No matter if Iruma is at ‘home’ or in the forest. He will starve. His ‘parents’ like to made a game out of it. There’s another knock at the door.

It’s midnight and no one is expecting a package.

*knock* *knock*

“Iruma’s at the door,” the man thought as he closes his eyes, “I have to pretend to be asleep.”

*tap* *tap*

“He must be standing on the boxes I left out there,” the man thought. Even though there is a wall between him and the kitchen. He lays on the couch with his eyes closed.

*scratch* *scratch*

“Looks like he’s trying to get in,” he thinks, “it’s okay. Just pretend to be asleep and he won’t do anything.”

*click*

Iruma got the window unlocked, only to stop when the man’s neighbor opens their window. Sounds of a party exited and where there’s a party there’s food. He leaves the window and goes next door.

He knocks on the door. It was his neighbor’s mistake on opening it.

Thank god his family are deep sleepers, he thinks as a fell asleep.

What the man didn’t know is that he sometimes mutter his thoughts out loud and that it just stopped one of his family members from moving.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #I believe that Iruma was a cannibal at one point #cannibal! iruma #past cannibal! Iruma

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drkineildwicks · 1 year

Text

A bullet point list of things I have observed thus far about the new writers’ strike, in no particular order:

now is a bad time to be seeking a writing job because corporations respect no one

now is a bad time to have been fired from my existing writing job because no one is hiring or even sending you an f u you didn’t get the job

seeing as how I was fired for sticking to my principles, good on these writers

the fun thing about capitalism is that these strikes work, you don’t get gunned down for your trouble like you would in, say, china

people really out here saying eff capitalism when it’s legit the only system where the bourgeoisies dictate the market instead of the proletariat

meantime socialism is for the corporations to get fat

but I digress

Jay Leno is delivering donuts to the writers on strike, which he did before

also I remember the OG strike, he mentioned then that he was writing his own monologues and kept waking his wife up at odd hours to pitch the jokes to her

TIL that Doctor Horrible’s Singalong Blog was written during the OG writers’ strike, this is amusing to me because Full Sail used it to teach students how to write scripts

corps really do be underestimating people’s backlogs

people be realizing that hard copies are desirable for a reason

laughing because we’re going into summer, when people won’t be watching TV anyway

really happy that people are finally channeling the energy of the captain from Wall-E, i.e., “I don’t want to survive, I want to LIVE”

I have legit watched no new TV since Big Hero 6: the Series went off the air and seeing what disney is doing makes me glad BH6 avoided that bullet

Thanks to the great pause of 2020 people have realized that yeah, we can wait for new if the new is good, no we don’t have the spare funds to pay for garbage

We got DVD copies of shows that are 10+ seasons long and crates of movies to watch, we’re fine

I got milk crates full of books I got from when all the bookstores in my area shut down for various reasons (stupid-high land rent being one of them) and games I haven’t even tried yet, plus I write

Fanfictions will be getting an upswing soon, I’m guessing

also I finally started playing DST with friends, that’s fun

we have a new puppy who is 1000% more entertaining than what’s on the TV

also torrents and downloads exist if the thing doesn’t have a DVD release

on that happy note, if anyone knows a link to the full series of shows like Tangled, Amphibia and the like please hit me up

I got BH6: the series downloaded I need others

Please send your money to the indie companies and the small businesses and individual artists instead of the corporations

yes you can vote with your wallet and it would be wise to do so

Also make sure it’s like an actual indie company instead of, you know, game freak

It’s a multi-billion dollar franchise, they can afford to hire more workers to keep their existing ones from dropping dead in the traces, they just…don’t

say it with me: there are other games in the monster-capture genre, I do not need to pay for a substandard unfinished game that literally kills people

Appealing to the one-percents alienates the majority money, trying to turn around to get the majority money alienates the one-percents, people prefer genuine jerks over two-faced shills

I’ve had the opportunity to work in California and New York before and passed it over because the cost of living versus what I would make would have me living in my car and I don’t want to get murdered

Yes John Lasseter slept under his desk but he was also heading a new company specializing in an art form in its infancy, also I bet his office had a lock

And the fact that people are abandoning Hollywood for Las Vegas, AKA sin city, should tell you everything about Hollywood that needs to be said

Focusing only on checklists to please the DIE, blackrock, vanguard, and the esg means soulless material that has no return on investment

No writers means no material to act for means no one works, considering how everyone is expected to work to the bone I fail to see a problem with them not working

love the fact that no new stuff means people will go to the old stuff and finally realize that no, it’s not the nostalgia filter talking, things were literally made better back in the day

There’s so much genuine indie stuff being put straight online by creators that Hollywood will hopefully die its much-needed death

also disney please die already it’s unpleasant watching the corpse flail about

On that happy note I’m working on new stuff and updating my old stuff, stay tuned and friendly reminder that I have both a ko-fi and Patreon

Also college debt

#wga #writers strike 2023 #so as a writer this is all of this very interesting #time to start working on generating content #you know #more than I already do

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squidwhumps · 7 months

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1. Safety Net

“Ree. Ree.” A pat on her left cheek. Sarasri snaps her head up. Noemi, kneeling on the other side of Moscas, retracts his arm from her face. His features are obscured in the dim light, but his eyes glint in the dark as he looks at her.

“What,” Sarasri croaks. Between them, Moscas’s back arches off the ground. Ah, he says, his head jerking to the side. Sarasri runs a hand through his hair, and he calms somewhat, turning toward her touch. She feels nauseous.

“Ree, listen to me. We gotta get out of here. We can’t keep holing up here like—” Noemi gestures weakly to their surroundings, but his hand lingers when it moves over Moscas. “—this.” The sound of the Leviathans tearing at the edges of Moscas’s labyrinth is a continuous, terrible backdrop to their conversation.

“Uh,” Sarasri says. “Yeah?”

Noemi powers on. It seems like he's been rehearsing this in his head for a while. "Moscas needs to go back to the Saint-Exupéry. He's always a little forgetful after a fight, but this is different. The docs on board will be able to figure out w—" Noemi swallows, brows knitted. "What's wrong with him."

Sarasri stares dumbly at Noemi. "Yeah. That's why we're waiting for backup to come, remember?"

Noemi returns her gaze steadily. "Backup's not coming."

It takes Sarasri too long to figure out what he means. But eventually, she does. "You'll die," she says.

This, finally, makes Noemi break eye contact. "...Yeah."

Sarasri looks away. Fiddles with the material of Moscas's cloak. She mumbles, "If you’re gonna die anyways, can't you just stay here 'til it happens?"

“No,” Noemi says, simply, and continues. “I’ll take the Wandering Regent. Moscas might be upset, but he’s so smart, he’ll figure out another Engine in no time.”

“You’re dumb as hell,” Sarasri bites out. “You’ve only just learned to Remodulate—”

“Exactly. You and Moscas have been doing this for years. You’re irreplaceable. You can just find some other schmuck to fill my role.” When Sarasri doesn’t respond, Noemi lays his hand over hers. Through the contact, Sarasri can feel him trembling. “Moscas is the best of us. He has to survive.”

“Okay,” Sarasri says.

Noemi pauses. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Do it. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Oh. Okay. I—” Noemi’s shoulders slump in relief. “I thought you’d—no, it doesn’t matter. I’m glad you understand.”

“Mm.”

He stumbles to his feet.

Sarasri watches him go.

“It’s almost time,” Noemi says. “Just a touch further, and they’ll sense us.”

“No takesies backsies?” Sarasri jokes weakly, and gets a wry little laugh out of Noemi for her efforts.

“No,” he says. Even through the comms, Sarasri can hear the shakiness of his sigh. “Remember, Newtonian propulsion only, for at least a thousand klicks. I’ll make as big of a distraction as I can, but—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sarasri says. “Don’t go forgetting who taught you all that, now. That’s Moscas’s schtick.”

She knows she shouldn't have said it even as the words leave her mouth, and the silence on the other end of the line tells her the same. She shifts her hold on Moscas, and he nuzzles his face into her shoulder.

“Emi—”

“Ree—”

“Sorry, you first—”

“No, you go—”

They both stop. Sarasri bites her lip because she’s not sure whether she’d smile or cry if she lets go.

“I, uh, I just wanted to say thanks. And I love you. And I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Sarasri says. “I—yeah. That covers it.”

Another tortuous minute passes, before Noemi’s voice returns—strong, unwavering, clinical. “In position,” he says. "Ready on your signal."

“Okay,” Sarasri says. “Gonna go dark now.”

“...Goodbye, Ree.”

She turns off her comms. Turns around to face the grinning visage of her Engine.

Ready? the Barren Mother says, mouth unmoving.

The labyrinth shivers as Noemi unveils his Transcendence, and the Leviathans bay in fury as they streak towards him. “Yeah. I really can’t bring anyone back with me?”

The Mother’s voice is gleeful in her head. Even if you could, would you want him back like this?

Sarasri looks down at Moscas. He seems to be sleeping. She doesn’t respond, but the Mother cackles anyways.

“Fine. Let’s go.” She presses a gentle kiss to Moscas’s forehead. His eyelashes flutter prettily as she lowers him onto the palm of the Barren Mother’s hand. In front of her, the great, hewing jaw of the Engine cracks open, lamprey-teeth creaking to life as if strung on a rotating chain.

Sarasri lets her Transcendence wash over her. Her armor settles heavy on her shoulders, a comfort and a vice.

She keeps her eyes wide open as she steps forward, and allows herself to fall into the grinding dark.

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #Safety Net #OC #fic #suicide #groundhog day #together among the stars #magical girl mecha AU #girl by moonlight #sarasri #noemi #moscas

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savetheamazingcakes · 1 year

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Part 3!

In a time that is certainly soon, but feels far too long, Amare is nearly at the lab’s doorstep, already yelling for someone–anyone–to open that damn door.

Faintly, shuffling is heard through the other side as a member of the ACOTKU grumbles about it being far too late for this. The worker opens the door and scrunches their face up at the sight of two dirt street rats on the doorstep. “P-please h-help him! I’m b-begging you, please! He c-can’t die yet! He’s b-bleeding out and- and-”

“We ain’t a charity. It’s way too late fer ya ta be out here. Come back in the mornin’.”

“B-but I can’t w-wait ‘til mornin’!”

“It’s only an hour away, anyone can wait that lon–”

A soft looking cheraloo steps up next to the rude worker with a questioning look on their face. “Who’s at the door– Oh my goodness! Step inside; quick quick! We need to get the little one checked out–”

“Ey, we’re closed! Ya can’t let these rats in!”

“Let me do my job, iji! Get the operation room ready!”

“But–” the other cheraloo levels a glare at their coworker. “Fine.”

“We need to hurry. Hand him to me and I can–”

As the worker reaches her dirty, rotten talons for his brother, Amare hisses. “Don’t hurt him!”

The worker raises her talons placatingly. “I took an oath to care for shoats like you, I’ll do what I can.”

Amare stares with distrust, but knowing he has no other options, he offers his brother to the woman. He doesn’t like this, but what choice is there? This lady is already a blessing with her willingness to help.

How genuine is this help, though?

How soon until she puts them into a debt they can’t hope to pay, even with Amare’s hopefully future position within the ACOTKU?

He can’t help but wonder things along these lines as he waits impatiently by the door, hesitant to step into the white room that makes up the lobby of the lab. The room isn’t empty of decorations, but it feels barren. It’s impersonal, as a lobby usually feels, but the white walls do it no favours.

Once a drop of rain lands on Amare’s head, causing a slight discomfort, he sucks it up and walks over to one of the plastic chairs.

Amare sits, his elbows on his knees and face in his hands. He thinks. He doesn’t usually dwell on things, but this is so much worse than his brother going to a boarding home. He tries to close his eyes and doze off, but images of his brother’s dying body and tear stained face stick to his eyelids as though they were glued there.

How did it all go wrong so quickly? Why did he have to let himself blow up at his brother like that? The day was going so well, but he lost his temper over the stupidest thing. He doesn’t want his brother to meet Lady Death over this. Over his mistakes. Amare sighs. No use in spiraling, but what else is there to do but dwell? Once it’s all over, they can go home, Amare can pass his exam, and they can both get better lives. Right? Surely Altora will pull through. He couldn’t possibly die yet.

…

Right?

Hours passed in what crawled on like days. The jerk that wouldn’t let them in would exit the room occasionally, leaving to grab supplies. Why was he getting more stuff? Were they just dissecting him now? Was he already dead? Were they just giving the poor teen false hope?

The answer, as it turned out, was no. When he finally had enough of it, slamming his hands on the armrest and speaking ‘calmly’, “Have ya h-hurt him w-worse than ‘e already is?”

“Eugh, why would we dirty our operatin’ room with more o’ his grime than necessary? No, he’s not hurt worse! We’re fixin’ him alright!?” The mean worker refuted in an awfully rude manner.

Amare simply glared and sat himself back down. As much as he wanted to throttle the man, he needed to remain calm and not get himself kicked out of the lab. It was raining, and that did not mean pleasant things for him if he were to wait outside. He crossed his arms and turned his gaze to the floor. There was a burning behind his eyes. He needed to stay strong.

More time passed before the kind worker stepped out of the operating room. Amare looked up with hopeful eyes. “I have some news. Would ya like the good or bad, first?”

The teen’s expression dropped. “Th-the b-bad news?” He held his breath.

“Well, the bad news is yer brother ‘ad severe damage ta ‘is liver. The thing was totalled. We couldn’t keep it. The good news, ‘owever, is that we were lucky enough to have a transplant on hand, so he’s gonna be just fine.”

A sigh of relief left Amare as his muscles went lax and he collapsed into the chair. His brother is okay! Altora is gonna be okay! He’s alive! A light chortle left his mouth in relief. “When can I see ‘im?”

“As soon as we get ‘im ta a better room. ‘M sure ya don’t wanna see ‘im in the waitin’ room.”

“He’s in the what?”

“The waitin’ room before ‘e gets put inta a room ta recover.”

“Oh. Okay.” Amare just stared blankly. He’s so happy, but he’s just…so tired. The exhaustion weighs on his mind as he blinks slowly, the clear vertical covering barely showing. Black spots start to cover his vision. He collapses to the floor, the surgeon barely catching him in time.

— — —

Altora woke up slowly, the world around him a daze. Muffled voices spoke above him, sounding as though they were spoken through water. A soft touch to his headfeathers sent pleasant sparks dancing in his head. His brain felt like slush, melting out of his head. Everything was too muddled and too bright. He whined lightly, closing his eyes and falling back to sleep in the soft touch to his head.

The next time he woke up, his mind was much more clear. It was still murky, but he could sort of understand the voices speaking above him. One held the characteristic low, scratchy warbles and chirps of his brother. The other was much cleaner, holding a quickly rising and dropping pitch most cheraloos had when speaking common. The ups and downs made his head hurt. He heard a high sound that must have been his voice. It felt scratchy and worn. A hand was brought to gently pat his head, causing a trill to unwittingly be released from him. It was nice. The claws lightly scratching his head was nice. Everything felt nice and fuzzy except for his throat. That hurt. “‘Ey b-bud, ya feelin’ any better?” asked the lower voice.

He whined in reply, unable to form words in his throat at the moment. “Shhh, i-it’s alright. Y-ya need a drink?”

Altora nodded. That sent his brain spiraling in dizziness. He resolved to not shake his head anymore. “I can go grab some if ya need. I’ll leave ya two to yer reunion,” said the other voice. It was in his native language, meaning much easier on his ears. The clacking steps of talons on the floor started and faded. A curtain opened and closed.

The room was silent, save for the breathing of him and his older brother. The silence was nice, it didn’t leave him holding his breath, waiting for something to happen. They sat for a while, simply enjoying each other’s presence. This felt like the calm after the storm, the time where everything finally dies down and the survivors of the wreckage begin rising. The Lady had not taken him that time, and he was more thankful than ever.

All feeling suddenly hit him, the events of that night and the sensitivity of his body causing him to feel overwhelmed. It was a lot. Tears welled up in his eyes and he dove for his brother, engulfing him in a bone-crushing hug. Amare stood there for a moment, frozen by the sudden speed of his previously groggy brother. After a moment, however, he wrapped his arms around him, buried his face in his brother’s feathers, and cried. They both sat there for however long it took for the lady to come back, sobbing in relief at the sight of the other. They were going to be okay. Apologies were in order, but those could wait a bit longer.

The lady quietly opened the curtain, pretended there weren’t two children sobbing into each other’s arms, and set down the glass softly. She swiftly left the room, silently as she entered. The two were left to each other, and in the exhaustion of crying, Altora fell asleep. He was still drugged on painkillers to high heofon, after all. Amare sighed when he felt his brother finally go lax; he set him down lightly onto the bed, kissed his forehead, and sat down by his bedside.

The exams were in two days, at this point. Amare pulled out his notebook and textbook. This cursed thing caused his brother harm, but it’s the thing that will get them out of major future danger. He can’t be forced to leave his brother because of war. He sat for hours by his brother’s bedside, rereading his notes and double checking the book.

The younger continuously woke up and dozed off that day and the next. He barely had the energy to stay awake for a few hours at a time. The day of exams had come when Amare realized he would need to leave his brother for that brief period. He didn’t want to. He almost couldn’t bring himself to, but he steeled his nerves and called for the nicer worker. She and the other guy were the only people there constantly, and it turned out she didn’t do much else than care for patients during the day. “Y-yer sure he’s gonna be okay if I leave ‘im?”

“O’ course, hon. I can keep an eye on ‘im while ya go do yer exam. He’ll be safe with me.”

Amare looked at her for a lie, any sign she would betray him at the slightest moment. Her eyes held only the truth. Satisfied with what he found, he gave a slight tilt to his head–a small nod, if you will–and walked through the curtain. His pawed feet made no noise, despite the claws that should have been clicking on the floor. The exams were waiting. His future was waiting.

PART 1 PART 2

#HASO #I told you I could never kill altora #I love him too much #next part is gonna be a sec bc I need to add a section

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almost-a-class-act · 1 year

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Fluffy Seasonal Prompts - December 12th

Taking the annual Christmas card photo.

Fandom: Band of Brothers (HBO) Pairing: Perconte/Bull Author's Note: This is the fault of @cody-helix02 and @bobparkhurst so jot that down. I will be compiling my holiday fills and posting them together on AO3 after Christmas, where you can find me under roaroftheninth. --

Bull pulls his eyebrows together. “What’s this about a Christmas card photo?”

Frank, who has been reeling off their weekend schedule of holiday preparations since the moment Bull walked in the door, pauses long enough to say, “Yeah, what, you never did family photos for a Christmas card before? You’re an honourary Italian now, Bull, we go big for the holidays.”

Then something else occurs to him before he can return to his original thought and he holds up a finger, turning around to retrieve what looks like a large pile of knitted fabric but turns out to be a sizable green Christmas sweater featuring a depiction of Santa Claus.

“Is he smoking a cigar?” Bull asks, accepting the sweater when it is thrust at him but holding it out at arm’s length.

“Yeah, of course he is,” Frank replies. “Did you think this one was mine? It would be down to my ankles. Put it on.”

Bull studies it for a moment longer and then figures he might as well; it’s no skin off his nose and Frank doesn’t seem like he’s on the level of festive freneticism yet where someone really ought to say something.

“Is it a little early to be worrying about Christmas cards?” He suspects that he knows the answer to this question but asks it anyway as he follows Frank into the living room, where the camera is already set up across from the wingback chair. “It’s the second weekend in November.”

“My sister sent out her cards yesterday,” Frank says. “I’m already behind. And wait ‘til you see the picture on hers. They put reindeer antlers on the dog. I bought a miniature Santa hat for Meatball but I can’t find her anywhere.”

It’s for the best, Bull figures; Meatball the tabby cat would protest most vociferously to being subjected to seasonal fashion and as usual has apparently had the uncanny ability to know when to make herself scarce. Frank still has a scar on his wrist from his bright idea to put her in a knock-off Gucci onesie and Bull’s favourite shirt has puncture holes in it from Meatball’s attempts to climb him to escape Frank’s reach.

Pulling the sweater over his head, Bull lets Frank tug on it in a couple of places, making essentially imaginary adjustments, before he steps back to inspect his handiwork. “Hey, look at that,” he says. “You look great. You want to see mine?”

“Love to.” Bull’s customary lack of excitability could make that come across as sarcasm, but Frank seems to detect that it isn’t, and he beams. Wrestling his own sweater on with great enthusiasm, he spreads out his arms so that Bull can get the full effect of the large, knitted picture of a cold cut that reads ‘PASS THE GABAGOOL’.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“I think your family’s going to get a real kick out of it,” Bull replies honestly, which is not an answer when it comes to his own opinion but is probably what Frank wants to hear. Anyway, it’s true; Bull is well-acquainted with the Percontes and their sense of humour by now.

“Yeah, me too.” Frank taps the chair. “You need to sit. Otherwise we’re gonna look like the long and the short of it again.”

Bull nearly snorts at that – Frank hadn’t seen the humour in coming back from their first weekend away together to discover that every picture Bull had taken of the two of them featured mainly the top of his head – and obligingly takes up residence in the wingback, letting Frank flit around to check the camera setup and adjust the curtains.

He pauses before he sets the timer to study Bull for a moment. “You look good,” he says. “You really fill out a sweater, Randleman.”

Bull glances down at it. It looks like every other shirt does on him, he’s fairly certain. “It’s a good sweater,” he says.

Frank watches him for a moment longer, as though double-checking. “Yeah,” he says, after a handful of seconds. “Maybe you leave it on later. At bedtime.”

“This is doing it for you, huh?” Bull can’t say he’s surprised, honestly; Frank is very particular about myriad strange things, but what it boils down to is that he knows what he likes.

Frank shrugs, unbothered. “Sometimes things awaken something in me. Who knows why.” He checks the view on the camera one more time. “You ready? Of course you’re ready, look at you. Okay, ten seconds.”

He bolts over to join Bull next to the chair, and Bull reaches out unprompted to hook an arm around him as they wait for the shutter.

#HBO War Barely Coherent Christmas Chaos #band of brothers #fanfiction #roaroftheninth #holiday prompt fill #christmas fluff

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siodium · 5 months

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KOREA DAY 7: MYEONGDONG AND HONGDAE STREETS 🐈‍⬛

our last full day in korea!! decided to roam around myeongdong and hongdae more bc we didn't have any specific plan. except to have isaac toast for breakfast/lunch. the shrimp sandwich was delicious~

also spotted a kimbap place next to isaac toast and i realised i haven't had kimbap at all during this trip?? so i got one just to check it off my mental to-do list. i had a bit of trouble chewing through the seaweed but otherwise the taste was pretty good.

afterwards we went to a cat cafe (cat playground 고양이놀이터 myeongdong branch) that we saw on our way to isaac toast!! there were so many cute and floofy cats there!! some of them looked so grumpy like i owed them money but that's cute too.

dinner was at a jeon place in hongdae?? unfortunately i didn't catch the name of the restaurant. the seafood jeon was sooo good omg. there was also honey makgeolli on the menu and i wanted to try so i ordered but our server wanted to see both of our IDs even though i was the only one drinking (ban doesn't drink) and ban left her phone in the hotel so she didn't have any form of ID on her. the exchange that ensued was so funny LMAO. it was a comical back and forth of "pls i'm flattered that you think i'm not even 19 years old but i'm actually almost 30" and "no i need to see your ID". in the end i did a google translate of "she doesn't have her phone with her and she won't be drinking" on my phone and the server let us have the alcohol heheh. i'm glad that i didn't have to forgo the drink bc it was actually so tasty (and also hard to find in sg?? i heard).

after dinner, we strolled around hongdae and checked out some of their clothing stores. saw a rly nice skirt but i didn't get it cuz i couldn't justify $80 for the last piece. :/

we wanted to stretch out our last day as much as we could so at around 10 pm when the stores started to close, we went to get a mango cheesecake bingsu at sulbing to share~

ofc couldn't pass up an opportunity to take more pics at a photobooth for the last time on this trip!! we're pros now.

more pics (mostly cattos) + our chaotic return flight day under the cut ↓↓↓

KOREA DAY 8: LOTTERIA, MADE BY, BACK HOME 🐸

we had a flight at 11 am but we overslept and only woke up at 10 am. 💀 it was not a good idea to leave all the packing to the last minute bc we were at it til 4 am?? ? there was no delay this time so we had to re-book our flight. luckily there was a t'way flight back to sg at 7 pm on the same day. phew almost got stuck in korea lmaoo.

welp after securing our flight tickets, we went to lotteria for lunch. no pics cuz i was kinda hungry bUT THE SHRIMP BURGER WAS SO GOOD. pls come to sg, lotteria sunbaenim.

we had less than 5 hours til check-in and it wasn't a lot of time but we decided to head back to the city area bc there was nothing to do at the airport. that caused another round of chaos LMAO. the trip to the city took about 1.5 hours which meant that we had pretty much only an hour to do whatever we wanted to do. we could only visit one last place due to the time constraint, so we went to check out a stationery store (made by) in hongdae that i bookmarked but we haven't been to. i dropped a good $50 there on cute stationery (and also partly out of stress bc i was upset about losing my hookkahookka studio tortoise keychain bUT it turned out i still had it?? the bead chain got stuck to one of my magnets so i didn't see the keychain when i was packing my suitcase).

what we didn't account for was that the airport railway would take 5000 to 6000 won per trip?? and ban didn't have enough on her transport card for our return trip to the airport. sooo there was a bit of panic at the station trying to find an ATM to withdraw cash to top up her card.

not us almost missing our flight for the second time in a day. @w@ we legit had to run across the airport to make it for check-in.

i've never heard of t'way but it's a korean budget airline?? the plane was so empty though. the entire middle section had like nobody?? and ppl were lying down across the seats trying to sleep??

i seriously considered to go lie down as well until the plane went free falling for like 3 seconds?? ppl were screaming and there was no announcement or anything to address what just happened?? idk after that ban and i were too scared to move out of our seats (i gave up my toilet going plans too) so we just stayed awake together for the rest of the flight watching a studio ghibli movie and some episodes of vanitas no carte (!! it was on my to-watch list for a long time and i finally started it!!). nothing else happened after that though.

anyway we made it back to sg safely!! i joined ban's family (minus her mum) for supper at a ramen place before heading back home to s L E E P.

#log #took a while to post about my korea trip but i'm finally done!!!

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unauthorizedmagicians · 5 months

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Episode 1 - Unauthorized Magic

this ended up being so long and they prob all will be tbf

Foreshadowing the time-loop from the very beginning huh? I see how it is.

Q’s mental illness being his first and last motif.

I forget how good the soundtrack is.

How exactly did he get institutionalized? Is he self-aware enough to submit himself or did his parents or what? Anyways moving on

Also, he takes a drug that's not even for depression its for OCD and phobias so maybe that's why it's not working huh…

I wish we had more of the books throughout the series. I think it's really interesting that he’s narrating it. Very much so mirrors his true belief in Fillory and in magic in season 4.

Ah yes, forgot Jane was a massive homeschool kid and was so blunt.

Julia makes me so upset in the early seasons. “You can’t run away hard enough, can you.” Firstly, shut up. Second, he admits this in the trials. Third, Quentin also does the thing where he just doesn’t tell the people in his life about his mental illness and therefore the coping mechanisms he uses look like childish escapism to everyone around him.

The contrast between Julia in the first episode telling Q to get real versus like 5 episodes later going batshit over not having magic so maybe just can it actually.

I feel the need to specify but I do not hate Julia as a character at all. She just pisses me off in the first like episode and a half or so. Like until she’s got her shit sorted w magic and the importance of restraint and all that she’s just judging everybody for everything like she’s better than so yea.

QUELIOT MEETING

“Am I hallucinating?” “If you were, how would asking me help?” ICONIQUE

Penny being a “don’t cheat off me” person in his first scene is so out of character but yk had to introduce him ig

Apparently started new meds. Yea ok. They started him on OCD meds? Alright then. They tried everything ig

Ok so she hurts herself to change the circumstances around the memory spell. But we know that this was all on purpose and Jane made sure this was what happened, that she didn’t go to Brakebills but she knew about magic so she could become stronger. So did he just not do anything?

Oml the fucking score. I could talk for hours about the score. The silence before his anger starts building, the small wind as Fogg riles him up, the deep souring as we see the shadows looking like moths on the wall, the regal brass when he builds the card castle that looks suspiciously like the one in Fillory. just. all of it

The garden path…

“You haven't been depressed, you’ve been alone” LIES. BULLSHIT. LIAR. he just wants to capitalize on ur pain and if ur taking ur meds ur not in pain so u cant cast magic but ur telling him what he wants to hear so he’ll give them up

“Nerd boy dragon porn shit” hehe little does he know

QUELIMARGO MEETING

The garden path…

The lighting in this show reflects how Q views the world. Overexposed: hope and all that shit. Underexposed: death and nihilism and all that shit

QUALICE MEETING

Hate that ship name but dont know a better one

ORLIYODI MEETING

“The answer is yes, til you pass out and then again when you wake up.” “Did you just read my-” “nah, its just a guess” ICONIQUEEEEEEE

“The world is inherently unfair, act accordingly” one liners from day 1

Q being a little shit about Julia getting hte short end dsflkjdhgkds hate hate hate hate incel shithead hate hate hate hate sorry i was projecting from the book and only a little bit from the show

Why does he stand so close to Alice when he goes up to her

AND SHE JUST LETS HIM

Penny and kady r so married from day 1 its so painful

How does Q not know what dubstep is???

The end of this episode is absolutely brutal and nobody can react like at all

Also this last scene i cant tell if Fogg made the coin fall, if quentin did it, or if the beast did

#the magicians #unauthorized magicians rewatch #the magicians syfy

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autonoes · 10 months

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so there is a situation. no one has to read this bc it’s probably gonna be pretty much incoherent and i’m just tryna think things thru. (self harm and suicide mention)

me and two other guys have been friends for like 13yrs or smth. let’s call them friends A and B ok. friend A is like the sweetest man ever but a v passive and anxious guy, v bad at making decisions and just coasts thru life and gets pushed around. he’s had this sorta older gf (early 30s i think) for like 2 yrs. she is basically a surrogate mum for him (drives him around, tells him what to do, gives him a place to live blah blah). it’s a bit creepy but ok. she has been up front since day 1 that she wants babies. loads of babies. friend A has somehow skirted around the issue and put it off for years now. he is NOT ready to be a dad and he says this openly—but not to her. she has an unstable visa and work situation and quite bad anxiety/depression. A’s mum gets on suuper well with girlfriend and wants them to get married and have kids asap

enter friend B. friends A and B have this mutual friend. friend A opened up to this mutual guy and told him that things were kinda fucked up between him and gf. main thing is that she’s self-harming and friend A feels like he needs to protect her. this has made him super isolated cos he can’t stay away from her at all without her calling and texting constantly asking him to come home. mutual friend tells friend B all this out of concern for friend A, and tells him to tell me too. friend B starts messaging me abt how we need to step in and do something (i’m at the other end of the country at this time). he’s even considering telling friend A’s mum so that she will swoop in and save him. at this time i was under the impression that girlfriend was threatening friend A with self harm and suicide. so i was like that’s abusive as fuck. u gotta talk to him. so friend B meets up with friend A. but he brings that mutual friend guy AND some other dude we all know from school who knows nothing about all this??? and he totally fumbles it and doesn’t even mention anything. very annoying but ok. i’ll just do it

anyway so now i’m back in the same part of the country as them all. and i’m gonna talk to friend A. i meet up with friend B and try to get more info out of him and he tells me that yes there IS a self harm element but now he doesn’t know whether it’s being used as a threat or not. so this makes everything waay more complicated and throws it all into veeery sensitive gray area.

anyway i’m meeting up with friend A tomorrow and idk how exactly i’m gonna approach this. bc i’m not even meant to know ANY of this rly. like it’s v sensitive and confidential info that he gave to a totally different guy and which has now passed two hands to get to me. so idk whether it’s best to pretend like i don’t know anything and just coax the same info out of him so we can talk abt it. or whether i should be up front and say i heard some stuff i’m concerned abt and ask him to give me his perspective on it all…. i don’t mind talking to him abt this. i feel like i might be able to come at it on his level bc i have had some experience w this kind of thing in a relationship before (tho when much younger and a lot less messy) and i know how it can fuck ur head up.

it’s all a mess tbh. i’m gonna stop thinking abt it and just talk to him and take it as it comes. i am worried abt him. either he stays w her and leads her on even more abt having kids til she goes completely mad and dumps him. or he does have kids (not good situation). orr he actually takes a stand for once and tells her he does not want children and they split. this is probably the ‘best’ situation but it would be very hard for him and for more reasons that i cannot explain might end up very badly for him….. aaagggggh. v upsetting. i hope he will be ok

omg this is long and incoherent. sorry if u read all this

#and friend B is getting evicted by a death/threat sending landlord in central europe rn and his relationship w his housemate gf seems to #have crumbled and he has to retreat home to ireland back into a house he was living in years ago #i wasn’t lying when i said my friends are going thru it

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tailsrevane · 2 years

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[comic review] dark horse's the thing from another world comics (1991-93 & 2011)

the thing from another world (comic 1991-92) writer: chuck pfarrer artist: john b. higgins

struggle, until thought is lost–until dreams are lost–until time is lost– swallowed by the howling maw of antarctic night.

yeah, no, this is not good. it did absolutely nothing to justify its existence.

the only thing stopping me from declaring it a soulless cash grab is that the art is actually pretty fantastic, like i think quite a bit of effort went into it, but they just didn’t have a story to tell here. and to me, that is the absolutely one essential element you need to even bother with something like this. d-rank

the thing from another world: climate of fear (comic 1992) writer: john arcudi artists: jim w. somerville & brian garvey & robert jones

“i give up. i can’t do this anymore, i just can’t.”

this wasn’t great or anything, but it was definitely an improvement over the other one.

in this one mcready wakes up on a base in mainland argentina, and it’s honestly just pretty refreshing to at least have some new characters and something different going on. also there’s a huge herd of sheep on the base and obviously one of them gets infected and it’s very tragic but also aww sheep.

the first issue is probably the strongest one, overall this is just kind of okay, but “okay” is still a definite improvement. c-rank

the thing from another world: eternal vows (comic 1993) writer: dave devries artists: paul gulacy & dan davis

“the conflict between the memories of your human nature and the needs of your cells will take time to resolve. it hurts, but it will pass. and i will always be there for you. now that our blood has mixed, we live within each other. we are one. together. forever. ’til death do us part.”

whoa, dang, one of these was actually good! (and is apparently the most-hated of these. what the heck, guys?)

i knew this one had potential when i first heard about the concept. in this story, one of the things that survived the other two stories assimilates a couple and the pair of them just want to live quietly in a small coastal town, eating as many other humans as they need to to survive.

i don’t think this quite fits in with how the things were supposed to work in the movie, but i kind of don’t even care since we finally got a wholly original story in one of these comics. macready eventually shows up because i guess he’s some kind of thing hunter now, which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense imo, but again i kind of don’t care!!

issue 3 has a truly iconic moment where one of the things is in human form but with tentacles going everywhere from her, and she licks up some human blood from one of her tentacles. it was weirdly sexy?

also, just when i was starting to think there wasn’t much more they could do in their current setting, issue 4 takes place mostly on a boat!

seriously, i can’t believe this is the most-hated one of these. it’s one of the best ones imo. and it’s largely self-contained so you can safely skip the other two stories and read this one on its own. b-rank

the thing from another world: questionable research (comic 1993) writer: edward martin iii artists: ted naifeh & w. “moose” baumann & alex niño

“you’ve thrown your sense of science, as well as your common sense, out the window.”

this one was much shorter than the others by virtue of being serialized in dark horse comics’ short-lived eponymous anthology series. it appeared in dark horse comics #13-16 alongside the likes of aliens and predator and whatnot, and each of the four parts was around half a dozen pages long. so if you put all of them together you get basically the length of a single issue.

still, this one was in a similar vein to eternal vows inasmuch as it featured wholly original characters. it’s also even more disconnected from the other comics, picking up with a research team investigating the destruction of the antarctic station from the movie. macready doesn’t even show up in this one!

it’s hard to compare this to the other comics given that it’s so much shorter, but it definitely fits in with the movie better than most of them, if that matters to you. but it manages to do so while still also telling a new story with a new group of characters, which is honestly how all of these should be approaching things in my opinion. macready is great, but having him survive the movie at all never really felt necessary to me. if you want to continue this story, you really should find another way to do it like this comic did. b-rank

the thing: the northman nightmare (comic 2011) writer: steve niles artist: patric reynolds

of all the lands they conquered, the icy mass to the north proved to be one of the vikings’ greatest challenges. unlike many of the lands they explored and settled, it was not the indigenous people who were the greatest threat. the enemy was the land itself.

i really loved the concept of this. the idea of a bunch of vikings facing off against one of the things in greenland had a lot of potential. but sadly this was totally phoned in.

i know this was a single issue but it doesn’t give anything time to breathe, you don’t get to know any of the characters at all, and at the end of the day i’m just not sure why i’m supposed to care even a little. the art was good, though? so there’s that i guess. d-rank

#the thing #the thing from another world comics #the thing comics #dark horse comics #comic review #reviews #comics

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peterism · 2 years

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can’t help falling in love ➴ peter parker

summary : your timing couldn’t be more perfect, peter thought. and he just can’t help but fall in love with you… if not harder.

pairing : tasm!peter parker x reader

warnings : violence and bullying kinda? (flash teases peter and punches him) but other than that just fluff fluff fluff :)

w/c : 1.2k

a/n : welcome to my first fic (a peter one at that)! lmk if you guys want a second part of this and what you wanna see in part 2 cause i think this is a bit incomplete :/ anyway, my requests are currently open now, you can read the guidelines here. all my love <3

peter dodges the other students that he passes by. he always opts to go to school early so that there wouldn’t be that many people when he skates through the hallways. and he wouldn’t tell anyone this but he always takes a walk on the field, admiring you as you seat on the bleachers, the sun shining on you, the morning breeze blowing your hair lightly. that image of you served as his energizer every morning. but today, he was running a bit late as he got caught up in a crime scene the night before.

he gave up on trying to skate through a sea of students and simply walked to his locker. he grumbled, frustrated at the group of people in front of him who were walking in a row, sluggishly, pretty much taking up the entire hallway. and partly because, well, flash was making out with some girl in front of his locker—no, not in front, they were leaning on his locker.

he approaches the pair slowly, trying to open the door of his locker. when the gap was wide enough for him to stick his arm and fish for his biology textbook, the girl rolled onto her side and closed the locker’s door. peter luckily pulled his arm out just fast enough for the metal to scratch the back of his palm. he silently thanked his spidey senses or his arm would be crushed by now.

but when the air hit the scrape on his hand, peter hissed, loud enough for flash and the girl to turn their attention to him. he was sporting a grimace, examining the scrape when he looked at flash, then the girl, his hand, then back to flash. giving them the look that’s saying so what, you’re just gonna stand there?

the girl looked at her with an eyebrow raised while flash scoffed. “the hell do you want, parker?”

“look, man. i just need to get my book so if you and…“ he motions to the girl. “madam here could play smushy-face somewhere else, i’d appreciate it.” peter sighs.

flash chuckles. “you don’t get to tell me what to do,” peter closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, not wanting to deal with this at seven in the morning.

“just step away from the lockers for a moment,” he said, looking at the girl.

flash held his hand up, motioning for the girl to stop. peter looks up at the clock in the middle of the hallway, 11 minutes til class. he groans and lightly pushes flash out of the way.

he was just about to open his locker when he got pinned to it. his body colliding with the metal produced a loud sound which caught the attention of others. great, now we have a crowd. he sighed.

“it isn’t weird,” gwen looked at you incredulously.

you scoffed. “it totally is! he’s your boss and he asked y-“ you were cut mid-sentence by a loud clunking noise.

“oh, again? it’s half past seven and they’re already starting. someone should really put flash in his place, i’m too sleep-deprived to witness stuff like this everyday.” gwen huffs.

you paused and thought about gwen’s words. you then reached to pull a folder from your bag and walked to the scene.

peter, still pinned up against his locker, just blinked up at flash.

“ah, so little petey’s fighting back now, huh? you gonna shove me? huh? what if i punched you in the jaw?”

peter blew air into flash’s face. “please,” he challenged.

he was immediately met with flash’s fist, the back of his head hitting the lockers behind him. his vision was blurry for a second so he closed his eyes but he saw another punch coming. he kept his eyes closed but it didn’t come.

you cleared your throat. peter opened his eyes as flash looked at you.

“here’s your math practice worksheets for this week. i’d prefer if you return them for me to check on or ahead of time. give them to me on or before friday, along with last week’s.” you gave the folder to flash.

he was about to say something when you raised a hand and beat him to it. “look, flash, i don’t really care about the excuses you have. i’ll still get paid no matter what, but if you go around picking on everyone in this school then you won’t have progress.” you looked at him sincerely.

“here’s a deal, you listen to me and do the practice exercises that i give you, do yourself a favor and focus on yourself and your academics for once. in that way, i make money, and you pass eleventh grade.” you look at him as he purses his lips and shifts uncomfortably.

“think about it flash, if you don’t move on to twelfth grade, then me tutoring you was useless. you wouldn’t want your dear daddy’s money going to waste right?” you smiled at him. “well, better start today. you should go to your class now.” letting out a huff, you looked at flash and nodded encouragely.

he sighs in defeat and walks away, sneakily taking peter’s skateboard with him.

you grab the board and waved him off. “i’m grateful for you, y/n,” you weren’t sure if he was being sincere or sarcastic based on his tone but you didn’t think about it that much.

you then turned to peter. “hey, you okay?” you frowned in concern.

he didn’t answer and just stared at you for a while. it worried you so you waved a hand on his face.

he blinked a few times and gave you a dopey smile. “hey,”

“hi, are you alright? should i take you to the nurse?”

he waved a hand. “no, no. it’s fine,”

“what’s your name?” you smiled at him.

he frowned. “you don’t know my name?” he was surprised you didn’t know his name considering you two have some classes together. also because he’s had a huge crush on you since god knows when. sometimes he even thought you might’ve felt the same when he catches you staring at him. yeah right.

you let out a chuckle that sounded music in his ears. “no, i know your name.” you nodded. “i just wanted to know if you know your name.”

he looked at you for a few moments before answering, “peter,”

you raised a brow. “parker. peter parker.” he continued. you smiled and nodded.

“mm, i’d still go to the nurse though,”

he ignored it and instead asked, “you’re y/n right?”

“y/n y/l/n.”

he tilted his head and smiled. “mhm, yeah. we have a few classes together.”

“that’s right,” now you were also smiling.

“yeah uh, biology. biology’s our first period today. you wanna… uh, i don’t know, uh,” he stuttered out of nervousness. you found it cute.

“wanna what?” your smile grew wider.

he laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “uh, i don’t know, maybe uh, you wanna sit together?”

you were silent for a second, admiring his brown eyes and cheeks that were dusted pink.

“yeah. yeah, i’d like that,”

he cleared his throat and quickly opened his locker to fetch his biology textbook. “so uh, should we, uh, walk to the…”

“yes,” you gave him a sweet smile that he mirrored, only he looked quite shy.

you waved at gwen, mouthing i’ll catch you later. she just winked at you and waved her hand, mouthing goodluck back.

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