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talesofesther · 1 year

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you're all I want love to be

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is still afraid to allow people close, to allow herself to trust again. Until she finds someone who makes it easier.

A/N: The idea for this was also given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus. Hope y'all like it. Tara, I love u. <3

Masterlist

Tara never meant for it to happen.

It was actually the one thing she wanted the least. Catching feelings for someone only opens up more opportunities for her to get hurt.

And yet it happened so easily, so subtly, that she only realized it when the damage was already done.

She found you on her first day at the university. When she was admittedly very lost; backpack hanging from one shoulder, fifteen minutes late for her class, and walking in the opposite direction of it. You were the only person she'd bumped into when going past Blackmore's cafeteria, and after a bit of an internal pep talk, Tara walked up to you.

And if kindness could be a person, it would be you. Instead of just taking her to class, you gave Tara a simple tour of the university, promising to be around if she ever needed anything else.

Tara started noticing you on every corner of the campus after that. She didn't take you up on your offer though, choosing instead to keep her distance. Still, you always had a smile reserved for her at times you'd catch her staring. That didn't change when the rumors about her and Sam started, if anything, you became more approachable than before.

But it was only after an unfortunate incident, that Tara actually started hanging out with you;

October had started four days ago, and with it, the Halloween season. Parties were already being scheduled every other weekend and sometimes on weekdays as well.

Tara was walking towards her class, her head in the clouds while she thought about what costume she would wear if she were to go to one of those parties.

She was usually one to be early for class now that she had her paths memorized, preferring the calmness of the minutes before everyone started rushing to arrive on time.

So she wasn't exactly expecting what happened next.

As Tara rounded a corner, she was surprised to come face to face with two other students; one of them adorning a black hoodie and a cheap Ghostface mask. The 'boo' that left his lips was as childish as it could be, but the abruptness of the encounter got Tara stumbling on her own feet as she took several steps back, eyes wide and her body momentarily entering fight or flight mode.

"What's wrong, Carpenter?" The guy in the mask said in a mocking tone, his friend joining in on the laughter, "thought I was your sister?"

Tara's voice was tangled up in her throat, she couldn't remember if she packed her inhaler this morning, or was it her taser that she forgot?

If unkind memories weren't flashing behind her eyes, Tara would have recognized the two idiots in front of her; the boys who came here to do anything but study, taking getting on people's nerves as a hobby.

It was only when the back of their heads was hit — quite forcefully — with a book, that they stopped laughing. The cheap mask fell to the ground with the hit, gaining a crack on its edge.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" You came from behind them, tucking the book back in your backpack, "fuck off before I tell the director what you've been doing out in the parking lot when you think no one's watching."

With a few complaints under their breath, they eventually walked away, allowing Tara to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Morons," you huffed, tugging on the straps of your backpack before turning around to Tara, your gaze softening immediately, "you okay?"

Her dark eyes found yours. She simply nodded, feeling her lower lip quivering when she tried to speak. She noticed the way your hand twitched to reach out to her but you stopped yourself midway, instead tucking both hands in your pockets.

"I'm sorry about them," you told her with the usual gentleness you never lacked, "they should know better than to do that."

Tara shook her head softly, managing a smile when her heartbeat started to settle, "thank you for… stepping in."

You just shrugged, your smile coming as a copy of hers, and it got Tara wondering if it could hold the same sentiment too.

"Anytime," you told her then, and Tara hardly left your side after it.

It was easy to fall into the routine of having you near and pretending she was just a normal girl with a crush on her friend. Being with you was so easy that it made Tara forget about all the bad, forget about all the reasons why allowing people close became dangerous.

And today? Today should be a good day, it's a day Tara has been looking forward to, a day that took away her sleep for all the good reasons. And it's not like she never stopped to get coffee with you on the way to campus, but today felt different because you had asked her to, as a date.

And Tara had been counting the seconds for it; until Ghostface came back and nearly killed her and Sam at that grocery store, until Mindy said 'never trust the love interest', until her worst nightmares came back again and suddenly nothing was easy anymore.

"Alright guys, as much as I love discussing possible suspects with you," Chad pushed himself off the bench he'd been sitting on, "we've still got classes to go to, come on Ethan." The two boys gathered their things and walked away, Quinn soon following behind.

Tara slumped back in her seat, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. With her sight momentarily gone, it felt like everything else was louder, heavier; she could perfectly hear the rustling of leaves from the trees around, the cacophony of voices from all the other students hanging out outside, and feel the weight of Sam's gaze on her.

"I think someone's looking for you, lovergirl," Mindy said out of nowhere, kicking Tara's sneaker with her own. When Tara glanced up at her friend with a frown, all Mindy did was tilt her head towards the university, where you had just walked out from and were now making your way to them.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Mindy teased with a sing-song voice and a grin plastered on her lips.

"Noticed what?" Sam sat up straighter, her gaze shifting from Tara to Mindy.

"Tara's girlfr-"

"Nothing," Tara interrupted quickly, getting up so she could land a gentle punch to Mindy's shoulder, "nothing to notice," she said again, pointedly.

"Alright, let's go, Sam," Mindy extended a hand for the older girl, "we'll meet back at the dorm later."

Sam still had a confused frown on her features but she took the hand offered to her anyway, while Mindy leaned closer to Tara so she could whisper; "always knew you had good taste," before both of them walked again.

Tara's cheeks went aflame as she let out a groan, predicting the onslaught of questions she'd get later today. She slowly turned around to meet you in the middle, her soul naturally filling with incessant butterflies.

Had she really been that unsubtle when regarding you?

"Hey," you greeted her a little breathlessly, letting go of your backpack and leaving it on the floor as you took a small extra step closer to Tara, your eyes frantically looking her over, "I was so worried when I saw what happened last night, are you-"

"I'm okay," it was instinct, but Tara didn't know if the words were true. There was something about you that always made her feel more than she wanted to, she suddenly felt like the last pieces of herself she'd been trying to hold together so hard over the last months started crumbling. Tara took hold of your hands, squeezing tightly. She didn't know who she was trying to comfort, you or herself.

You held her back, glancing down as your fingers intertwined with hers. Tara observed the way your lashes kissed the corner of your cheeks; you were all golden softness and spring warmth, presence rivaling the one of a welcoming sun on a cold day. Tara wanted to memorize that, keep it in her heart as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you.

It should be easy to forget and pretend, but it suddenly wasn't, because Mindy's words kept ringing inside Tara's head even if she didn't want them to be true. She felt tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of her eyes.

"But," she closed her eyes at the unsteadiness of her own voice. More than anything, she wanted this, wanted you. But she was stuck. It felt like quicksand, pulling her further down the more she struggled to get out. "about today…"

It's like you knew her better than she knew herself sometimes, maybe for you, it still felt easy. "It's alright, Tara." Your thumb brushed over the scar on top of her hand, "we don't have to go, I understand."

Tara pursed her lips, blinking away her vulnerability. She let go of your hands only to loop her arm around yours and bring your bodies closer together, "walk me to class, though?"

—

"Come on, spill it, what's up between you two?" Mindy leaned back on the kitchen counter beside Tara, "I was joking earlier today, but now I actually think there's something there."

The carrot Tara was cutting ended up with a slice too big, she had to turn it around and cut it one more time in the middle, "I've told you, there's nothing going on," Tara told her friend with a sigh, making sure to cut smaller slices so she could keep her hands busy as long as possible; "she's my friend."

Mindy scoffed, she picked up a spoon from the sink and tasted whatever Chad was cooking up on the stove. A grimace came to her face at the lack of seasoning, "I've heard that before."

"It's not like that," Tara dropped the knife then, unsure what she was frustrated about or what she wanted to convince Mindy of, "how can I get… involved with someone after what happened?" Her voice grew quieter by the end.

Mindy softened at that, she turned to face Tara fully — everyone knew the younger Carpenter was still struggling with what she'd been through, even if she didn't want to admit it. "I know it's not easy, T. But you can't close yourself off for everyone, some people are still worth it," Mindy glanced towards the living room, a soft smile on her lips when Anika's silhouette came into view, "people aren't meant to be islands."

—

There are times when the pain is so big, that it almost doesn't feel like pain anymore. If it comes from a wound, that's usually the time when you'll pass out. If it comes from inside, you start to feel numb.

Sitting at the back of an ambulance as she watches cops walking out with another one of her friends in a dark body bag, Tara thinks she's close to that feeling. Mindy is sitting beside her, she's not moving. Tara doesn't know what to say in moments like these, they feel almost awkward. A morbid kind of awkward.

So when she gets up, cell phone in hand with your number already ringing, she blames it on that; on the pain squeezing her chest almost to the point of unbearable, on the helplessness she feels twirling in her gut.

Tara paced back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to draw out the noise of the sirens as she counted up the seconds until you picked up.

… Two, three, four.

Tara could hear her own heart rate quicken, she closed her eyes, thinking about how her inhaler was still all the way up in the apartment; where there's blood, and-

Please, pick up. Please, pick up.

"Hello?"

A long sigh of relief left Tara's lips as soon as she heard your voice through the phone. As if she hadn't cried enough, she could see tears clouding her sight.

"Tara? What happened, is everything okay?"

"No, it's not," Tara forced out, her voice tight with a sudden rawness. She turned her back to Mindy so the girl wouldn't see her crying, "there was another attack… Anika didn't make it."

"Oh god, I can't-" Tara could hear you choking on your own voice, "are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm-" Tears made a steady path down to Tara's chin, some getting caught under the phone pressed tightly to her cheek, "I'm alright."

"Tell me where you are, I can be there in like ten- five minutes."

"No!" Tara said with urgency, "don't come here, please, I don't want you anywhere near this," she gulped back a lump in her throat, "it's too dangerous."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be okay," Tara closed her eyes, wishing the words really were true, "I just-" she hesitated, a confession lingering on her tongue, "I just wanted to hear your voice, is all." She bit onto her lower lip until it drew blood.

"We- we can talk for as long as you need," it was like Tara could hear your smile, "I'm happy to hear your voice too."

—

Ambulance lights and police sirens were clouding your senses as you run up to the commotion. It was quite a sight; your oversized shirt, shorts, and sneakers with mismatched high socks. But you couldn't remember to care because your heart had been at your throat ever since Mindy called.

There were several reporters blocking your view but you squeezed your way through them until you reached the police tape. You've always hated this; the white and red colors of the vehicles that only showed up in tragedies, the panic and grief that lay heavy in the air, the clicks of the cameras from people who saw it as an opportunity — you hated it all, but right now the only one on your mind is Tara.

You ducked to go under the police tape, immediately attracting the attention of one of the cops, "Miss, you can't be here, please go back behind-"

"No, you don't understand," you gripped at the fabric of his jacket when he tried to keep you back, trying to push through, "I know them."

And the cop kept speaking, probably about things you weren't allowed to do and places you shouldn't be. You didn't hear any of it, because you found her. Her blue shirt had more red than blue in it, dried blood was all over the fabric, making you feel a mix between relief and nauseousness; her hair was messy, tangled, and damp in some places; her skin still coated with bits of dirt and blood too; her arm was held up by a makeshift bandage. But she was there, talking to a blonde woman on a stretcher; she was alive.

"Tara," you called quietly as your sight blurred over, and then a little louder, "Tara!"

She looked up, any words she'd been saying dying on her lips when she saw you. For a beat, it seemed as if she was assessing if you were real or not, before she was all but running towards you.

Not caring for consequences, you pushed the cop off of you and met her halfway — lucky for you he apparently noticed you really knew them.

"What are you doing here?" Tara's eyes were glinting under the red and blue lights, there were clear tracks on her cheeks where tears had run down.

"I was-" you tried, stumbling over your words as you took her in, all blood stains and bruises. You raised a hand to push back her fringe, the strands of hair were damp to the touch; from sweat or blood, you didn't want to know. "Mindy called, and scared the shit out of me. I came as fast as I could."

With her lower lip stuck between her teeth, Tara leaned into your touch. Her eyes closed tightly when your thumb traced the outline of her eyebrow.

"Are you okay? I mean of course you're not okay, what am I even-"

You were cut off when Tara threw herself at you. She pulled you close with her free hand, nails almost digging into your skin with the force of it as she buried her head on your shoulder.

Quiet sobs shook her body and you held her back the best you could whilst being mindful of her injuries. One of your hands cradled her head, fingers tangled in her dark hair as you breathed in everything that was her. "Shit, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Tara only pushed herself into you more as you spoke. There was a beat, a moment of hesitance from someone who'd had the bitter taste of betrayal more than anyone should. Trust was a gamble, but when you had a place in her heart no one else could ever have, Tara knew you'd never break it. "I'm okay now," she spoke against you; and she believed it.

You only squeezed her tighter, pulling back just enough to land a kiss on her temple. And you allowed your lips to linger, to feel her skin against you and her heartbeat pressed to your own.

Tara melted in your hold, allowing you to support most of her weight. With her cheek pressed to your collarbone, she spoke; "you still owe me a date."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter #scream #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #taracarpenteredit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #tara carpenter fanfic #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #my story

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angstywaifu · 2 months

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I Think I Deserve A Kiss - Xaden Riorson x Reader

Happy Valentines Day for all my fellow Australians and future people! Have some cute Xaden Riorson fluff with the prompt "I think I deserve a kiss."

It felt like anything that could have gone wrong today, did go wrong. I had woken up late due to being out late on a supply run that didn’t go exactly to plan. Because of that I’d missed breakfast and barely made it to my first class on time. Xaden and Garrick had someone managed to get up on time and be there. Both raising eyebrows at me as I ran in while shoving my arms into my jacket.

During flight training a squad mate hadn’t been paying attention and dove straight down into my dragon and I causing me to come off. Luckily my dragon had been quick to right themselves and catch me before it was too late. Then at challenges another fight interrupted ours, and due to it I’d lost track of my opponent and gotten jumped. And then everything had gone black.

The throbbing in my head was almost unbearable as I woke from whatever slumber I was in. No not a slumber. I didn’t feel rested and no way would I have been able to sleep with all this pain. I open my eyes and squint as I’m blinded by the light above me. I go to sit up, but two very strong hands push me back down. I vaguely hear them talking to me, but there’s still a ringing in my ears. That’s right. I’d been in challenges.

My eyes finally adjust and I see I’m in the healers quadrant, a mage light right above my bed. The curtains are drawn around my bed, giving me some privacy from the rest of the room. A hand firmly grasps mine, a thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of my hand. I look over to see Xaden sitting next to my bed. I must stare at him confused as he raises his eye brow at me.

”You ok?” He asks, his voice sounds rough. Almost as if he had been yelling.

”No, but..” I pause as I’m unsure what to say. The emotion I see on his face isn’t one I’ve seen before.

”But what?” He asks sternly as he raises one of his eye brows at me.

”You look worried and you never look worried?” I tell him.

I feel his body stiffen at my words. Clearly he had been trying to hide his worry from me. But I’d seen right through him as his onyx eyes had betrayed the hidden emotion. Xaden wasn’t emotionless by any means. But he usually did a very good job at hiding them. Choosing to save them for behind closed doors or around those he trusted. I guess behind the drawn curtains he kind of was.

”You would be to if you saw what I saw.” He stands and walks to the end of my bed, running his hands through his hair.

“What do you mean?” I ask worried.

What had happened? It was just a challenge. We did them all the time. We got hurt all the time. But the pulsing pain in my head told me that this time was probably one of the more extreme outcomes of challenges. In my three years in the quadrant I’d been lucky enough to avoid any major injuries. Till now it seems.

Xaden barely turns to me as he motions to a mirror sitting on the table next to me. I grab it and hold it up to my face. I gasp and almost drop the mirror. It was clear my injuries had been mended as much as they could. But the stitches on my cheek and lip, and the bruise around my right eye and peaking through the collar of my shirt told me I had received a decent beating when they’d gotten the jump on me.

“I should have been watching. But I was too caught up on making sure that damn Sorrengail girl didn’t get killed. And next thing I know there’s screaming across the other side of the gym as that asshole beats you to within an inch of your life.” I can see Xaden’s shoulder visibly shake as he recalls the memory.

It’s then I notice Xaden is not in his training gear. He’s in his normal uniform. As he turns I notice the slight hint of shadows forming under his eyes.

”How long have I been unconscious for?” I ask hesitantly.

“Three. Days.” Xaden practically spits out angrily.

Even though the anger is not directed at me, I still flinch at the tone in his voice. Three days I had been out for. I shudder as I look at my reflection in the mirror. If I had been out for that long my injuries must have been way worse than what I am seeing now. The curtain to my bed is moved to the side revealing the only mender in the healers quadrant. I don’t recall his name as I haven’t had much to do with him. As he approaches me Xaden walks out leaving me alone with him. With how angry he seemed to be I don’t blame him for leaving, but I can’t help but feel a bit sad at him leaving me alone. I sit in silence as the mender tends to my injuries again. Due to me being awake he is able to heal a bit more, and luckily he is able to take away the throbbing headache I had woken up with. With instructions to come back again in a few days and a tub of healing balm I am allowed to go back to the riders quadrant. As I walk through the big doors that lead back to the riders quadrant I find Xaden leaning against the wall waiting for me.

He reaches out and pulls me into his side, before placing his hand on the small of my back as he leads me back to my room. Classes must still be on with how empty the corridors are. We don’t bump into a single person on the way back. I don’t dare try to break the silence as I know it’s better to leave Xaden be when he is in one of these moods. He opens my door and ushers me in, before guiding me over to my bed and sitting me down. He squats down in front of me and places his hands on my knees as he looks at me.

”You should get some rest. I’ll come back and grab you for dinner ok?” He tells me quietly. His voice is void of any emotion. His default when he’s trying to stay calm when he is anything but calm.

I do my best to ignore the twinge of pain in my heart as I nod my head. He softly smiles at me and nods slightly. He stands and kisses the top of my head before quickly leaving my room. As he closes the door I let you the breath I didn’t realise I had been holding in. Xaden is right, I do need to sleep. After being mended I felt exhausted. And even though I had been out for three days, I felt like I’d been awake for three days instead. I place the healing balm I still clutched in my hands on the bedside table before changing into some more comfy clothes and climbing into bed, sleep consuming me almost immediately as my head hits the pillow.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but I feel the bed dip slightly beside me. I open my eyes to see I’ve rolled towards the wall. But I can tell immediately it is a lot later. My room is now dark, bar the soft flicker of a flame. Strange. My mage light is usually much brighter than this. I feel the bed shift next to me again and I look over my shoudler to see Xaden sitting next to me, his face illuminated but a soft flickering light. He seems to be a lot calmer as he smiles softly at me. I roll over fully and my breath catches in my throat.

Multiple candles have been lit and placed around my room, explaining the soft flickering light in the room. On the table, Xaden has laid out food he must have gathered from the dining hall. I’ve clearly missed dinner with how dark it is outside. Next to the dinner he has brought, which is also enough for the two of us, is two big slices of chocolate cake.

I look over at Xaden who is smiling at me, his shoulders shaking slightly with a silent laugh as he looks at my shocked face.

”What is this?” I ask him.

”Well I came to get you for dinner and I couldn’t wake you up while you looked so peaceful. So i brought dinner to you.” He tells me softly. The way his brows furrow tells me he is doing his best to think about his works.

I nod my head slowly. “But why all the candles?”

”Well, I’d actually planned to ask you something, but what happened kind of put a dampener on my plans.” He admits as he looks down at the floor.

”What plans?” I’d asked confused.

I tried to rack my brain for what he could mean. What on earth could he have wanted to ask me the other day?

”I was-” He pauses, his eye brows furrowing again. “I was going, to ask you. To be my valentine.” He finally gets out.

I freeze in shock as he looks up at me. He looks scared. But it quickly changes as he tries to hold back his laughter. Obviously the look on my face is quite amusing for him.

”Left you speechless have I? Thats a first.” He teases, easily grabbing my hand as I go to playfully hit him. “That’s not very nice.”

”It’s what you deserve for teasing me.” I sassily say back.

My breath hitches as he leans in close, our noses barely touching. He’s so close I can see the golden flecks in his onyx eyes, I can feel every breath he takes. He obviously hears it as he chuckles softly.

”I think I deserve a kiss.” He says, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a smirk.

I go to playfully hit him with my other hand. Yet again he easily grabs it as if he knows what I had planned and uses the momentum to pull me closer and into a kiss. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me into his lap, my legs sitting either side of his as I straddle him. The dinner and cake quickly forgotten.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #the empyrean #xaden riorson #the fourth wing #xaden riorson x reader #xaden x reader

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pearbunny · 21 days

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the bucket list ✘ [fourteen // FINAL]

series masterlist | prev | next [ ❀ spotify playlist ]

summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was.

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, fluff, angst, comfort, eventual smut.

general warnings: tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, mentions of death in later chapters.

word count: 5.6k

chapter content: cursing. non-explicit shower (not smut), mentions of food, mc has a chat with jisung's best friend, lots and lots of angst, but also a hopeful ending.

author’s note: thank you for reading. and while i know this is a lesser popular work, words cannot express how much every like, comment, reblog has meant. let's say goodbye together. 💛

You can't sleep.

Despite your aching body, your heavy lids, your fatigued mind, you can't –won't– sleep. Your last moments with Jisung would not be wasted with sleep.

Instead, you stay in bed for hours, tangled in each other’s limbs, the thin fabric of Jisung’s sheets the only cover to your bodies. Neither of you are worried about how loud your voices carry through the walls of his apartment into his neighbor’s unit. Instead, you giggle and laugh, the both of you committing those sounds of happiness to memory.

As you lay beside him, Jisung runs his fingertips up and down the curves of your side, mentally mapping the topography of your body, appreciating the moment when the corner of your eyes crinkle as the sound of soft light laughter spilled from your rosy lips. He takes note of the odd freckle below one of your finger’s knuckles when he kisses your fingers, prying them away from his cheeks when you pinch them in retaliation for all the tickles.

“What time is your flight?”

Your head lays on Jisung’s pillow while he's on his side, head propped up on his hand supported by his elbow. Your hands are laced together in the air and you move your wrist back and forth in a playful manner. You choose not to look at the clock. As far as you’re concerned, the moon was still up and it was dark outside and that was all you needed to know. “Not until later.”

“Y/N,” Jisung looks down at you with a stern look on his face. “You should get ready and shower.”

You huff, subsequently blowing some of your hair out of your face. A pout settles on your lips. “If we shower together, can we stay here for a little bit longer?” You fight the shy smile from making an appearance, but you can’t hide the pink blush that sweeps over your cheeks. This wasn’t like you. In fact, open and blatant flirting like that usually made you feel uncomfortable; but not in a bad way, just in the way that it was such a foreign concept to you. However, right now in this moment, it felt right.

Jisung chuckles low, the rumble in his chest tickling your shoulder. “I don’t think that would save us anytime.”

You roll your eyes, “I promise I’ll be good.” For emphasis, you press yourself against him further, letting him know you were adamant on spending more time in bed with him.

Jisung playfully groans with your action, dipping his head low to place his forehead against the back of your shoulder. “I don’t.”

Despite all that talk, Jisung is very respectful in the shower. His fingers move in circular motions on your scalp as he shampoos away the oil from your hair, strong firm hands massaging and kneading the knots in your shoulders under the warm water.

It’s actually you that has to show more self restraint, running the washcloth soaked in soap across his wide chest and small waist. Maybe it’s the lighting in the bathroom, but you truly don’t remember him looking so… delectable.

With a finger, he lifts your chin up to look at him, a suspicious brow raised. A deep laugh bounces off the tile walls when your eyes dart away, refusing to look at him. You feel a little embarrassed with how little self control you seemed to have.

Jisung reaches behind you for the shower knob and turns it cold.

Your mouth hangs open with a loud gasp, bringing your arms across your body to attempt to keep the warmth. “What the hell Jisung?!”

He steps out of the shower stall and wraps a fluffy towel around his waist, pushing his hair back out of his face. “You said you’d be good and you promised.” He looks back at you with such a shit-eating grin on his face. “I didn’t want you to go back on that promise.”

Getting ready went by smoothly, albeit slowly. You dreaded pulling your tight white baby tee over your body. You took your time, bringing your loose army green pants over your hips. Packing up the rest of your belongings was a chore you didn’t want to do.

You meet Jisung out in his living room, dressed casually in faded black jeans, a low scoop neck white tee and a fuzzy brown cardigan. He’s at the kitchen island, looking over the pages of the worn down journal that belonged to your mother. He takes in the feminine and delicate penmanship, eyes going over journal entries and doodles. Jisung lets a smile form on his lips when he recalls how you told him that you often looked over her journals to feel closer to her. He thinks for a moment that he’s doing the same thing right now, but with the intention to feel closer to you. The happiness fades from his eyes momentarily when he realizes why he wants to feel closer to you; the distance between you will grow soon. Physically, and perhaps more than that.

Your footsteps by Jisung’s door snap him out of his thoughts and he twists his whole body towards you. He’s quick to hop out of his chair to help you bring your large suitcase into the hallway. He looks down at you and the look on his face softens when he sees the pronounced pout your face. “Hey, there’s no need for that.”

You wrap your arms around Jisung’s waist when he pulls you in for a hug, placing your head against him as you sigh. As much as you wish you could push your emotions aside to enjoy the rest of the day, you can’t help but feel like you’re leaving a whole life – not your own, but maybe a life you could have had – here in Korea.

“Come on, Seungmin’s cafe should be opening soon.” Jisung holds your hand in his left, your suitcase in his right hand and he leads you towards the front door.

Your feet are planted in place and when Jisung looks back at you, he offers you a sympathetic smile. “Okay, how about I bring your stuff down into the car and I’ll come back up to get you.”

You give him a meek nod and smile. “Yeah, I think that would be good.”

Jisung nods and stacks your travel backpack on top of your smaller carryon luggage and brings all of your suitcases into the hallway. He spots your mom’s journal on the kitchen island and quickly grabs it, placing it into your backpack and letting the door close behind him.

You can hear the sound of your luggage rolling down the hallway when you finally decide to take a step forward, further into the living room kitchen area. You recall how Jisung and his friends’ laughter filled the room just a couple of nights ago, the smell of the steak and pasta that Lee Know helped cook up very distinct in your mind.

You turn back around and place your palm on the sturdy door frame of Jisung’s room before taking a step inside. You walk the perimeter, your eyes glancing over his books and knick-knacks on his shelves. The books aren’t organized in any particular way and you wonder if it was arbitrary or if there was a specific order that was only known to Jisung; maybe it was the order he found them interesting or if he placed them on the shelf based on which topic he knew about the most.

At his computer setup, you find his guitar and microphone and you’re taken back to the night that he showed you the song Alien. Your heart hurts a little when you remember the lyrics and how sad and lonely they sounded, but there was also a hope in your heart that Jisung would be able to write songs that were happier.

Your eyes fall onto the small wolf figurine and you pick it up. It seemed out of place. Most of the trinkets around Jisung’s room were more self-explanatory: A Rubick’s cube, the plushies on his bed – including the one you won at Lotte World by the way –, a slinky. But this was the only figure that resembled a life-like wolf. You turn it over and find an inscription on the bottom of the base. It read, “Chan”.

You place the wolf back down gently and make your way out of Jisung’s room, looking back one last time at his made bed, a blush traveling across your cheeks when you think back on the memories made there.

You travel across the open common area to the guest room you had stayed in previously. You sit on your knees in the middle of the room, hands placed on your lap. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply. You weren’t necessarily the most spiritual person, but ever since your mother passed, you found yourself talking to the air, hoping there was an afterlife for her to hear you in.

You clear your throat before speaking to the empty room. “Hi, Chan.” You awkwardly chuckle and relax your shoulders with a sigh. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that this was your room.” You shift your weight and opt to sit cross legged instead. “Obviously, I didn’t know you, but all of your friends talk very highly about you. They say that the people you surround yourself with are often reflections of yourselves, so you must have been an amazing individual.”

You open your eyes, but keep them half lidded as you stare at a random spot on the floor in front of you. “I’m sorry that the world was cruel to you. I’m sorry that you felt that you were walking alone in life. Jisung, Seungmin, Changbin, Lee Know… They miss you terribly, I can tell by the way they speak about you. But I want to tell you that as someone who didn’t know you, you have made such a positive impact on those men. Jisung especially. He is such a beautiful soul, so kind, so thoughtful. Intelligent. His determination is unparalleled. Jisung told me that you saw something in him that no one else did… Chan, Jisung may have had it in him, but he didn’t see it until you did. So thank you for cultivating and nurturing that spark.”

You close your eyes once more and offer the empty room a genuine smile, picking yourself up on your feet. As if on cue, Jisung opens the front door. He calls out from the doorway. “Y/N, are you ready?”

You meet Jisung at the entryway and slip your shoes on, grabbing your jacket and cross-body bag by the door. “Yeah, I think I am.”

Jisung holds his hand out. You take it and stand in the doorway. Your other hand hovers of the light switches and as you look over your shoulder into the kitchen and living room, you say your final goodbye to the apartment. With the flip of the switches, you close the door behind you and make your way to Jisung’s car in the parking lot.

Jisung and you are at the door to Seungmin’s cafe right as he opens the door to start his before-work hours shift. His sleepy eyes look over your forms and he groans, holding the door open for the both of you before he locks it up again. Jisung laughs and you smile at Seungmin apologetically as he throws the store keys on the counter, grumbling the whole time.

You take a seat at a table by the front window. Jisung stands by you, making sure the sign at the front of the door still says “Closed”. He’s particular about the lights that he turns on, only turning on the back lights and dimmer ones above head so there was just enough light to see.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have come, it’s really early.” You can smell the coffee beans as Seungmin makes himself a pour over in the back.

Jisung shakes his head and makes his way behind the counter, prepping two cups for the both of you. “Nah, don’t worry about it.”

You chew on your bottom lip, trusting Jisung. You look around the empty cafe, most chairs up on the tables from the previous day’s closing shift. It’s a stark difference to the way the cafe looked on the first day you came: it was quiet without the sounds of people chatting and the clangs of spoons being stirred in people’s cups or knives cutting pastries. You giggle when you remember how you had to hover around the tables just to get a seat.

“Hey, sorry.” Seungmin comes out from the back and places his cup of coffee on the counter, shoo’ing Jisung away from the espresso machine. “I’m one of those people who need coffee to have a functioning conversation in the morning.”

Jisung tries to take back control of the espresso machine. “You’re technically working. I got this, don’t worry.”

Seungmin eyes Jisung for a while before relenting and heading back into the back of the store. “Okay, just don’t break it.”

Jisung comes back to your table with a latte for you and an iced Americano for himself. He sits down right after and gives you a gummy smile, though it’s a bit forced. “I’m going to miss this. I feel like it’s become a routine for me.”

You smile lopsidedly, and bring your feet up onto the chair, pressing your knees against your chest. “Yeah. For me too.”

Jisung watches you as you take a sip of your latte, eyes softening when he notices that you’re barefaced. He is going to miss this. He’ll miss your makeup-less face in the mornings and the late evenngs right before bed, your vanilla lattes and how he’ll never understand how you could take your coffee so sweet in the mornings. He’ll miss flirting with you, and even though his job relied on flirtatious interactions, he liked flirting with you because he never knew what he’d get in response: a shy blush, a roll of your eyes with a smile on your face; his favorite though was when you would gain the confidence to flirt back with a mischievous look in your eyes, like you were challenging him to see who would break first.

At this point, you catch him staring at you. “Do I have something on my face?” You wipe your upper lip just in case you had a latte-mustache.

Jisung chuckles and shakes his head. “No. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?”

He nods and takes a sip of his iced americano, chewing on his straw. “Yeah. I’m just thinking about how much I’ll miss you.”

You grow quiet and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “I’ll miss you too.” The air shifts between you two.

Seugnmin comes to your table with a warmed up chocolate croissant, placing it in front of you. “Don’t be dramatic. This is the 21st century, you guys can just call each other.”

“You’re right.” You give him a laugh, but it isn’t very convincing. Jisung meets your eyes and you quickly take a bite of the offered croissant.

You both know the likelihood of maintaining a long distance friendship. Sure you could call, but the time difference would make it difficult. Your respective busy work schedules would take up a lot of time. Who knows what life would look like when you two both went back to your regular lives.

And to be honest, you could keep in contact, you could maintain that friendship, but…

Would friendship be enough?

The ride to the airport isn’t that bad. The roads were mostly empty since it was still dark out, signs of the sun rising over the horizon visible once Jisung parks in car in the multi-level parking garage. He assists you with your bags, holding your hand while you both make your way to bag check, fingers wrapping around your palm tightly. He doesn’t say much, though he doesn’t need to. Jisung lets you know how much he doesn’t want you to go with the way he holds onto your hand like if you were to let go, he would never see you again.

And as dramatic as that sounded, it wasn’t that far-fetched.

Once you check in your bag, you place your passport that you showed the person at the check in back into your large travel backpack. You take Jisung’s hands in your own, gently swinging it back and forth between you two. You take a deep breath, your shoulders rising and falling as you do so.

“I guess this is it.”

Jisung nods, a little resigned. He’s feeling a lot of emotions and though he’s usually the type to get the last word in, he’s overwhelmed with how intensely he feels at the moment. He clears his throat, breaking his silence. “You sure you just can’t stay?”

You shake your head and quickly bring your arms around him, pressing yourself into his body. His arms snake around your form, one of his hands traveling up into your hair to bring you closer to him. He breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of your shampoo. It’s such a little detail, but he regrets not sneaking a look at the label of your shampoo bottle for the days he’d inevitably miss you.

Jisung’s shirt grows damp the longer you stay in his arms. You both don’t want to see each other cry for two reasons: you’ll only find yourselves crying harder and it would make leaving even more difficult than it already was. When Jisung’s body starts trembling, you hold onto him tighter.

Jisung doesn’t want to see you go. As much as he’s turned his life around after the low he felt after Chan’s passing, you were such a beacon of light in his life. Sure Jisung learned how to grieve, he had his friends next to him to help him get out of that funk, his job was both challenging and fulfilling, but you?

He was afraid that there would be no one else like you in this lifetime.

No.

He was sure there would be no one else like you in this lifetime.

The airport was quiet, soft sounds of luggage wheels rolling on the floor and the announcements of a woman’s voice overhead every so often the only things that could distract you from the gentle sobs between you two. Eventually, Jisung finds the strength to recompose himself and just like you had previously done a lot on this trip, you follow his example. He takes a step back and you're met with a sunny cheerful look on Jisung’s face, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He places his palm on the top of your head, smoothing out your disheveled hair from burying your face in his chest.

As Jisung tilts his head downward, you lift your heels off of the tile floor to bring your lips closer to his. It’s just a simple kiss, there’s no fight for dominance, no lip bites; just a sweet and tender kiss to remember each other by.

When you pull apart for the last time, Jisung cups your cheek, running a thumb over your cheekbone to wipe away a tear you didn’t realize fell. “In our next life, Y/N.”

“In our next life, Jisung.” Your voice is unstable after catching your breath from the silent sobs, eyes irritated and watery. You purse your lips together tightly in an attempt to hold back the floodgates. You take a deep breath and nod once at him and muster up the biggest smile that you could. You grab your backpack and carry-on luggage and make your way towards the TSA line, walking backwards as you bid farewell to Jisung’s smiling and waving form through the glass window.

Jisung waves at you one last time as you disappear from sight. The smile on his lips drops and he shoves his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

You waited until the last possible minute to go through TSA just so you could spend all the time you could with Jisung, so when you made it through you went straight to your gate that was already boarding. You had no time to mull over your thoughts, focusing on finding your seat and then managing to put your luggage in the overhead bin close enough to where you were sitting so you wouldn’t lose track of it.

Now, you’re ignoring the flight safety protocol that the flight attendant is miming, seatbelt loosely strapped over your lap in the window seat. You take the sleeves over the palms of your hand and press them against your face, catching your tears as they fall.

You don’t care how you look to the other passengers on the plane; not when you’re thinking about how life had a funny way of introducing possibly the most perfect soul into your life then taking him away shortly after Han Jisung was a pleasant surprise on your trip to Korea. He was the best thing that could have ever happened to you. You can’t even begin to imagine how the trip would have gone if you hadn’t stopped to give a random person a bouquet of flowers.

Your plane pulls away from the gate, starting its taxi to the runway.

In two weeks, Jisung taught you a lot about yourself. He taught you how it felt to be listened to and heard, even how to listen and just be present for someone. He managed to show you, someone he barely knew, patience and kindness. He taught you how to go with the flow, to not worry about what comes next. He showed you that grief looked different for everyone and the beautiful things you could take away from the grief; that grief didn’t mean you were broken.

Jisung taught you life after loss.

You think about what he told about inyeon: the notion that two people are connected and bound together, but it could take lifetimes for them to finally be united.

You and Jisung were meant to meet. You were sure of it. Perhaps you needed each other when you did to show you both that choosing to keep going wasn’t in vain, that it was the right decision. You showed each other the beauty of life. Maybe in this life, that’s all you were meant to be for each other...

In our next life.

Those words echoed through your head.

Why?

It seemed so final, like you weren’t going to talk to each other. Ever. But you knew yourself. You two would start off talking everyday. Life would get in the way and it would become once a week. Eventually, you two would talk less, but you wouldn’t act like strangers. You’d leave a like on an Instagram post, he’d comment on a picture of yours. When he’d post a story that included the boys, you’d message him and let him know that you missed them all and your time in Korea. And when Jisung released his music, he’d send you the copy of the full tracklist first because he’ll always think of you.

But that wasn’t going to be enough.

And you would have to be okay with it.

Your fingers curl into your palms forming tight fists. With tears in your eyes, you grab your phone from your bag under the seat in front of you. You scramble to find the instagram app on your phone and once you do, you navigate to your messages. You fine Jisung’s handle and start to type out a message.

“I don’t want to wait for another life. I want this life to be our life. I don’t want to have to wait until we get lucky enough to be reincarnated into penguins.”

You press send just as a flight attendant grabs your attention in the aisle. “Excuse me miss, but please put your hand held mobile devices in airplane mode.”

When they leave, you look back at your phone. Your message was delivered, but you wanted to wait a moment, just in case Jisung would read it. When the plane started to gain speed, signaling that it would be taking off soon, you put your phone on airplane mode, effectively cutting off your signal for the remainder of your 10 + hour flight.

When you get off the plane, your face is all puffy and the bright lights in the airport nearly blind you. When you look out of the tall floor to ceiling windows, it’s dark outside. You want nothing more than to go home, take a shower, and cry yourself to sleep despite doing so on the plane multiple times already. On your lengthy travel, you went back and forth between accepting that whatever you had with Jisung was done and being determined to make it work.

In the end, you realize that no matter what you wanted, Jisung had to also want the same thing, so there was no point in worrying over it.

There was no point, but that didn’t stop you.

You and the rest of your flight are escorted to baggage claim. Your baggage thankfully was one of the first couple of bags to show up on the conveyor belt. Once you gather your large luggage, you make your way through customs.

Thankfully, it goes smoothly and you’re about to grab your phone and finally take it out of airplane mode to call Robin to let her know that you’ve made it through customs and are looking for her, but when you make it through the gate out of customs and into the large main area of the airport, you find Robin jumping up and down.

You give her a tired smile, relieved to see a familiar face after hours on a plane. You feel so emotionally taxed that when you make your way to her, you drop all your belongings on the floor and hold her tightly.

Robin hesitates for a moment before finally returning your embrace. “Hey, are you okay, babes?”

You sigh and nod, your whole body relaxing, putting more weight on Robin than intended which makes her take a step back to plant her feet firmly on the ground to catch you. “I’m just…”

Your voice sounds shaky, which alarms Robin but instead of going into panic mode, she rubs circles on your back. “It’s okay. Let’s get you home.”

You place your forehead on the cold glass of Robin’s passenger side window, staring off into the outside where the bright city lights pass you on the freeway back to your apartment. Your phone sits in your lap.

While driving, Robin glances over at you. “Hey, have you texted Jisung?”

You glance at your phone and then back out of the window. “My phone’s been on airplane mode.”

With her eyes on the road, Robin scrunches up her brows and face in confusion. “I’m sure he’d like to know that you made it home safely.”

“Yeah, but…” Finally, you pick up your phone, staring at the lock screen. “I’m scared.”

Robin turns on the blinker to exit the freeway, thankful that your flight landed so early that it beat the roughest part of early morning traffic. “What do you have to be scared about?”

Nervous, you swipe to pull up your shortcuts, thumb hovering over the airplane mode toggle. “I told him I didn’t want to wait to be penguins.”

Robin takes a beat to look at you with a confused look on. “I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I’ll trust you.”

Without taking your eyes off your phone screen, you give her a small smile, but nothing else.

When you don’t say anything and Robin is just met with silence, she places a hand on your thigh, giving you a pat of encouragement. “Hey. If it’s meant to be for you, it will be.”

You let out a big sigh and swallow the lump in your throat, finally taking your phone off of airplane mode. It takes a while, but eventually your notifications start to pop up. A few e-mail dings, a missed call from your dad – you’ll let him know you got home later; If anything, he already texted Robin to ask if you’ve been picked up–, and multiple Instagram messages.

You’re nervous, but you swipe to read the messages.

I’ve been staring at my phone in the parking lot now for the past 20 minutes. I don’t know what to say.

Oh, maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say, fuck. I just mean that I’m trying to find the right words to say.

All good things! I hope!!

Let me start by saying that the past two weeks have been magical. I never thought I could grow so attached to someone so quickly. You were an absolute light on my life.

are*

I’m not sure what I did that first day to make you want to approach me with a bouquet of flowers, but I’m thanking whatever higher power there is that I decided to try out a new cologne that morning.

Lol sorry i’m trying to make this light hearted so i don’t cry my eyes out on the drive back home.

Btw seungmin changbin and lee know wish you a safe flight. I told them to just message you but they said they wanted to give us time.

I guess they can see how much you mean to me.

Y/N…. you mean a lot to me. More than you could ever begin to imagine. I don’t believe in fate or destiny. Maybe i do idk, its a nice idea, but its just an excuse for things we can’t explain.

But maybe thats just it because i can’t explain how much saying goodbye at the airport felt like ripping out a part of me. Its like you took something from inside of me and left with it.

This is about to be so corny lol

But

Whatever it is that you took, just keep it safe, okay?

AHHHHHHHHH LMAAAAO wsadfjas i can’t stand myself lmfao i’m going to drive back and i’ll text you when i’m at the apartment.

Lol not me acting like you’re going to read this right now while you’re thousands of miles up in the sky.

I made it back except im not at the apartment im at Loud Mouths because I didn’t wanna be alone. I got way to used to annoying you all day lmao

Anyway i’d love to say that we shouldn't wait until our next lives. And i’d love to say that this is our lifetime, but we can’t know that. That’s out of our hands.

But i do know that there’s something on your mom’s bucket list that I was eyeing before you left.

For whatever it’s worth, if it my list, I’d cross it off.

I’m always here for you.

You look up from your phone and close your eyes, letting the tears fall. Your right hand goes over to your chest and you squeeze it over your heart, hoping that Jisung knows that he also has a part of you with him.

Robin helps you bring your luggage up into your apartment and you hug her goodbye, convincing her that your broken heart was not worth being late for work again. At least, not now. You promise her that you’ll check in after her shift and that all you truly want to do is sleep and cry.

You close the door behind her and place your backpack on your small round dining room table from IKEA. You take out your journal, seeing the words from Jisung’s message clearly in your mind. You sit down in the matching chair and you notice that it seems like something has been stuck between the pages.

You open it up to that page and it's your mother’s list. Between the pages is a pressed stem of Queen Anne’s lace. It’s dried already, Jisung had pressed the flowers previously in a book of his own during the two weeks, feeling sentimental over what at that point he thought was a start to a beautiful friendship.

Just then, there’s a knock on your door.

You have half the mind to tell them to fuck off, but you have to get up and the front door was on the way to the bathroom where you planned to shower and cry under the stream of water.

You open the door to no one. You look left and right, but there’s no sign of anyone even coming by. That is until you look down at your doormat. There’s a bouquet of flowers in a vase, identical to the ones that you picked out for Jisung at the very beginning of your adventure: Sunflowers, Queen Anne’s lace, baby blue eucalyptus leaves.

You smile and take it inside, finding a note in its leaves.

"해바라기

sunflower Just like sunflowers with the sun,

I only have eyes for you.

- Han Jisung.”

You set the vase down on the table and pick your pen back up, looking over the list. In your mother’s elongated and slanted writing, with the letters connecting to each other in beautiful curves, dips, and loops, you confidently place an ✘ in the box next to “Fall In Love.”

You find our phone and excitedly open up your messages with Jisung. You want to tell him thank you for the flowers and that you’re home safe. You also want to tell him that the feeling is mutual, and that hopefully you’ll meet again in your next life as lovers.

Regardless of when that time will come, you’re happy to have met Han Jisung and so you will take whatever it is between you as it is.

You’re about to message Jisung when you notice “ji.one is typing…”

This is our lifetime.

ending author’s notes: thank you for reading The Bucket List. This all started as a one sentence idea in my drafts. Originally, this was to be a one shot, no more than 7k words, but the more I thought about it, the more i wanted to change it into a series. I will say though, the ending of this chapter had been planned since near the beginning, but while writing it, it was obvious I couldn't do that to these two, so I hope you enjoyed this more hopeful version. :) TBL has been extremely therapeutic for me and has helped me get through some difficult times. I hope that when you read this, these characters are able to touch you in some way as well.

If you’ve read this far, please consider reblogging. 💛

Until next time!

taglist

@burningchaosdeer, @bat-shark-repellant @jisunglyricist @captivq @lixiel0ver @channieandhisgoonsquad @dalamjisung @laylasbunbunny @beanebabyy @leyknowsbin @vixensss @hyunfilms @cutiespaghetti @hanjisunginc @kubuwu @raehawthorne @leeknowyah @lifeissteph @thesunsfullmoon @bbokari711 @sunnyhonie @aalexyuuuhm @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

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#han fanfic #han jisung fanfic #han series #han jisung series #skz fanfic #skz series #skz angst #skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #han x you #skz x you #stray kids fanfic

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danikamariewrites · 6 months

Note

Hiiii can I ask for poly Xaden x reader x Liam

Where the reader is dating Xaden but has a crush on Liam and it's super obvious, but they are two oblivious to realize that Liam likes the reader too.

Dating Xaden and Liam hc

A/n: I wanted to have this done Tuesday to celebrate Iron Flame but I’m celebrating all week so cheers 🥂 I didn’t intend for this hc to be super long lol

Warnings: a lil bit of angst

You started dating Xaden a little after challenges started

You had beat him a few times and he was so taken with your strength and ability to fight

The last time you had handed his ass to him Xaden was staring up at you with heart eyes

It didn’t take Xaden long to ask you out after that. He wanted to ask you in the mat still but he thought you’d turn him down and didn’t want to embarrass himself

Your relationship was great as far as war college standards go

You had flying dates, late night walks, and the occasional picnic

You are infatuated with each other

One night there was a mishap in the dorms. A fight broke out and you couldn’t get out of the sea of bodies

You were panicked and unprepared. Your body shut down on you until you felt a pair of hands pick you up, taking you away from the chaos

When you were back in your room you saw it was Liam holding you. He tried to put you down but you just clung to him, holding back tears

Liam rubbed your back whispering, “it’s ok, Xaden will be here in any minute.”

After that night Xaden had Liam guarding you when he couldn’t

You slowly found yourself falling in love with Liam the way you loved Xaden

The two of you became fast friends and had inside jokes and you just loved being around him like you loved being around Xaden

You had spent nights alone crying over your feelings

At one point you pulled yourself together, giving yourself the ‘im a badass dragon rider why am I crying over boys?’ Speech

Xaden had a free day so he decided to spend it with you meaning Liam didn’t have to follow you around

You watched Liam from afar with a sad look on your face

Xaden noticed and he couldn’t help but feel hurt. He immediately shut down and stayed quiet for the rest of the day. He didn’t even kiss you goodnight

You had a feeling it was bc of Liam. It was time to be honest about your feelings for both of them no matter the outcome

You went to Xaden’s room early. Your hands shaking as you knocked on his door. After he let you in you wasted no time getting to the point, “I want to talk to you about yesterday. My feelings have not changed for you Xaden. I love you so much.” “Then why were you looking at Liam like that?” He didn’t drop that stoic look, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

Tears started forming in your eyes and you couldn’t hold back the sob you let out, “because I like Liam too, and I don’t want to have to choose between you two. I want you both,” you whispered that last part

Xaden made no move to comfort you. He was confused and didn’t know what to do. “We’ll talk about this later. Let’s go, or we’ll be late for classes.” You nodded, wiping at your eyes as you silently left the room

The day went on like normal. Liam still followed you around which surprised you, you thought Xaden would’ve told him not to stay with you today but he probably didn’t want you to walk around unguarded

Liam joked around with you as usual. He noticed that you were down all day so he tried to make you smile

When you came out to the flight field that afternoon you saw them speaking very animatedly. It seemed like a heated conversation that you didn’t want to interrupt so you kept walking to your dragon

Before dinner Liam walked you to Xaden’s room. You knew what was coming. The conversation where you have to pick one of them and feelings get hurt. But you didn’t want to pick between them, you want both of them

You stare at the floor to avoid their gazes. You couldn’t look either one of them in the eye right now. Xaden cleared his throat, “Liam and I talked, we came to an agreement and wanted to see what you were thinking.” You look up at him confused but hopeful. “What?” You ask looking between them

Liam looked at Xaden for permission. He dipped his chin at the blonde. “If you want to, no pressure at all, we are open to the idea of both of us dating you. If you don’t want that I will back off and you and Xaden go back to how things were.”

You couldn’t believe Xaden was willing to share you. But if it would be with anyone he’s ok with the other guy being Liam

You looked at Xaden, nervous and unsure. “You’re ok with this?” He walked over to you, holding your face in his hands. “Yes. If you’re happy, I’m happy. And who knows maybe I’ll fall for Liam.” You let out a small giggle as he kissed your forehead. “Good because I didn’t think I’d be able to pick between you two.”

Months have past since then. Getting into the new dynamic was hard, especially bc Xaden is so possessive of you but having time together was easy

Both of them are absolute gentlemen and love spoiling you. Their combined efforts to give you whatever you want and put together nice dates always leave you blushing. They’re a perfect team

You’re favorite is when you all have a sleep over in your room. Being squished between these two hunks is so relaxing you always fall asleep so fast

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mybeautifuldelirium · 2 years

Note

I don’t know why I want this so bad but here we go!

So I had an idea for a reader x Aemond where reader is one of Rhaenrya’s kids and they have been secretly seeing each other since they know their siblings would make fun of both of them if they knew.

Anyway Aemond takes reader with him when he goes to claim Vhagar and she’s a nervous wreck the whole time and if she’s nervous about just sneaking out you can imagine how she’d be when the first flight happens and she’s with Aemond when the fight breaks out between all the kids. During the questioning she sides with Aemond without a second thought and after all the fighting she chooses to go with Aemond back to Kingslanding and eventually get married. Then like the show a few years pass and we have the day of the trial and dinner and she tries to stop Aemond from starting the fight and then just fluff.

I hope this all made sense I got excited and went on a tangent 🤣 whether you take this request or not just know you’re an amazing writer and I can’t wait to see what else you write! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Always Meant to be Together || Aemond Targaryen x reader

A/N: so I did divert a bit from the request but as usual the overall premise is the same, hope u enjoy xx

Summary: Y/N is Rhaenyra’s first born daughter, Aemond’s closest friend, the one who was by his side during the incident and went against her own family to protect him. But after six years of being apart, has their relationship changed or could they be again, what they once were?

Warnings: angst, fluff, Targaryen incest

The true born Targaryen children of queen Alicent and the supposed bastards of princess Rhaenyra were never meant to get along, despite being of the same blood, they could never be of the same side. But as fate has it, rules always have their exceptions.

“Behold, The Pink Dread” the three boys laughed in unison as they presented the pig to the younger prince.

A cruel joke, this was, making the poor boy run out of the dragonpit.

“Very mature of you, Aegon” Y/N scolded him as she had just entered “And you two, is this what mother has taught you?”

“It was a mere jest, sister; why are you so concerned?” Jace giggled as he winked at the other boys, making them join in with laughter.

Y/N scoffed at his insinuation and went to follow after Aemond.

“Don’t listen to these fools, I know you’ll get a dragon very soon” the young girl said as she cautiously approached the prince.

“I don’t need your pity” he mumbled in annoyance, without looking at her.

“I’m not pitying you, I’m simply stating the truth” Y/N said, now with full confidence.

Aemond finally stopped in his tracks and turned to look at her “You truly believe so?” he asked, hints of hope in his voice.

“Of course! You’re a Targaryen prince after all” she smiled “And besides I believe you’re much braver than Aegon and my brothers” Y/N scrunched her nose, as they both giggled.

From that day, the two kids became quite inseparable, much to the displeasure of their mothers, they would often sneak out and spend time together.

It was way past her bedtime, yet sleep wouldn’t come upon Y/N, she was squeezing her eyes shut, tossing and turning in her bed, but to no avail. The images of Laena’s funeral from earlier that day still haunted her mind. Y/N didn’t know her aunt very well yet she couldn’t help but feel consumed by sorrow. Soon however, her eyelids at last grew heavy as she drifted into a dreamless slumber.

“Y/N, wake up” a hasty whisper suddenly brought her back. But as the girl was about to let out a startled scream, a cold palm was placed on top of her lips to shush her. “Hey, it’s me, it’s me, Aemond”

“Aemond?! What are you doing here”

“Shhh, come, follow me” he gestured towards the door.

“What?! Have you gone mad?! It’s the middle of the night!” the young girl whisper-yelled, confusion and exhaustion washed over her face.

“Please, just trust me, I need you”

Y/N sighed as she slowly got up, there was something about this violet gaze of his, when he was looking directly at her, that always managed to make her unable to refuse his pleas.

It was a clear night, the stars were glistening like thousands of diamonds as the chilling breeze was piercing through Y/N’s thin robe that she had loosely tied over her silk nightgown.

“Aemond, where are we going? I’m freezing”

“We’re almost there” the boy tried to reassure her.

The two kids continued their walk through the seemingly endless field and as Y/N was starting to consider running back inside her warm chambers, they were met with the magnificent silhouette of no other than Vhagar, the largest dragon alive, her late aunt’s dragon. And though asleep, the mere proximity to him made the little girl shiver with fear.

“We really shouldn’t be here; let’s go back to the castle” she ushered the young prince, her words, however were left unheard as he slowly approached the beast, enamored by its presence.

“Aemond, don’t!” she let out a scared squeal as Vhagar began to wake up.

“You said I was going to get a dragon and this is what I intend on doing” he smirked at her.

“This is not what I meant Aemond, please”

But the boy did not listen and by the time Y/N had comprehended the situation, he had already somehow managed to mount the dragon.

“Come” he finally spoke, reaching his hand down to her.

“No! There’s no way I’m doing this! And you shouldn’t be either. Please come down” she pleaded, her voice full of worry.

“Fine, suit yourself” Aemond mumbled as he commanded Vhagar to fly.

Y/N stood there, filled with dread as she watched the enormous beast take off with her best friend. Those few minutes of their flight were the most agonizing moments she had endured, they felt like an eternity and she couldn’t help but imagine the worst possible outcomes.

The poor girl almost burst into tears when she saw Vhagar landing right beside her with Aemond unharmed. The boy was beaming with pride and excitement as he had finally gotten his so deeply desired dragon.

“You fool” she wept with relief as she leapt to embrace him.

Their happiness however was short lived as on their way back they were met with enraged faces of Y/N’s two younger brothers and her cousins.

“There he is! Sister, what are you doing with this thief?” Jace spat at her, a mixture of disgust and disbelief lingering in his voice.

“He stole my mother’s dragon, she was mine to claim!” Rhaena screamed through tears as she charged towards Aemond.

It wasn’t long before a vicious fight broke out between the children.

“Jacaerys, Lucerys stop! Aemond, don’t!” Y/N was screaming at them trying to stop the fight, but to no avail. Suddenly a blood curdling scream of agony pierced through the halls. Before she could realize what had happened, Y/N saw the other kids run out. Then she saw, she saw him, her Aemond, laying on the ground, with arm on his left eye, waterfalls of blood pouring between his pale fingers.

Y/N let out a frightened scream as she rushed to him, gently moving his head to her lap.

“Aemond, Aemond, can you hear me? Listen, it’s all going to be alright, I promise” she choked on her tears, weaving her fingertips through his messy silver locks.

The following moments went in a blur, next thing she knew, she was standing behind her mother as the kids were throwing accusations at each other in front of the king. Alicent was inconsolable, going from caressing her wounded son to screaming at Rhaenyra and her children, it was like hell broke loose.

“Silence” Viserys at last stood up, making the whole room grow quiet. “Now, may I hear what exactly happened. Y/N, you were the one with Aemond when the guards found you, I want you to tell me the whole truth” he sent a stern look towards his granddaughter.

The little girl slowly stepped out from behind her mother’s skirts. Her face was pale as a ghost, dried up tears covering her cheeks, stains of the prince’s blood still fresh on her white nightgown. Everyone was now looking directly at Y/N, Rhaenyra’s eyes filled with concern, the two frightened boys clutching at her hands, Alicent hardly containing her rage, it almost felt like time had stopped. Then her eyes caught the gaze of Aemond’s remaining one, making her own well up at the sight.

“It was Jace and Lucerys, my brothers. They started it along with my cousins” the girl spat through tears, pointing at the kids “Aemond didn’t say anything to provoke them, they’re lying”

“Liar, she’s a liar” Jace started screaming at his sister “Mother, this is not true, he did call us bastards”

Rhaenyra looked with utter disbelief at her daughter’s face, but before she was able to say anything, Alicent had gotten up, grabbing a dagger.

“What more proof do you need?” she cried, running towards Luke with the weapon in her hand, but was quickly caught by Rhaenyra who leapt in front of her son.

Eventually the fight was put to an end and all were ordered back to their chambers.

Y/N was now sitting on her bed clutching at her blankets trying to erase her memories of the horrendous ordeal that had occurred. The girl was so consumed by those thoughts that she had just noticed that her mother had entered the room. She had an unreadable expression as she slowly approached the bed, holding her bandaged arm.

“How could you? How could you go against your own brothers in front of the king?” she asked, her voice full of disappointment.

“It was their fault. Luke took Aemond’s eye” Y/N sniffed trying not to burst into tears again.

Rhaenyra grabbed at her daughter’s chin, making her meet her gaze. “You siding with that boy almost cost your brother his eye” she hissed “We are a family. Your brothers are your family. Never forget this” she then stood up and left without another word.

Y/N had spent the following six years at Dragonstone after her mother’s marriage to Daemon. The girl couldn’t deny that she had rather enjoyed the peace of those years however she so deeply longed to go back to the capital.

Her prayers were at last answered as she finally stepped foot in her homelands. Y/N was now a woman grown yet she could still vividly recall her time spent on the castle grounds throughout her childhood. The princess was eagerly following behind her younger brothers as they explored the courtyard that they once used to play in.

However, the sounds of clashing steel immediately had caught the attention of the siblings as they quickly went to follow it.

Y/N couldn’t believe her eyes. It couldn’t have been him. But it was, it was him. Her prince, her Aemond. There was something about the way he was so mercilessly fighting against ser Criston that made her feel intimidated, a dangerous swordsman he had become.

“Nephews, have you come to train?” he at last spoke, pointing his sword at the two boys, no emotion in his words.

“Bōsa jēda daor ūndegon, kēpus” (long time no see, uncle) Y/N smiled confidently as she finally walked out from her spot behind the gate.

Her words made Aemond drop his sword in disbelief and he slowly approached her. There were now mere inches between them as she looked up meeting his gaze. He had changed, yet still possessing this otherworldly beauty she had grown to admire. His face was now chiseled as if carved by the hands of the gods, his silver locks, much longer, reaching the middle of his back and the deep scar still visible under the black leather eyepatch that was covering his left eye, a reminder of the vicious incident. The prince took his time slowly examining her features as if trying to confirm it was really her. He gently picked a lock of her hair, slowly twirling it between his fingers, a devious smirk now playing on his lips. Aemond then suddenly turned around and headed back without saying a word.

The king had called for a small feast in honor of his family as they were at last together. Y/N could hardly recognize her grandfather, the magnificent man she remembered from her childhood was now deteriorating before her, half of his stern face, covered by a gold mask, perhaps concealing the damage. He was leaning in his chair, unable to sit properly yet his presence was just as powerful as it once was.

The tension in the room was so present, almost as if you could cut through it with a sword. Y/N’s gaze traveled across the familiar faces around the table, they were her family yet they felt so distant. Then her eyes fell on Aemond, her childhood best friend. She couldn’t catch any hint of emotions in his eye, he was simply sitting with a blank expression, occasionally sipping from his wine. Their last encounter had left the young princess bewildered as he had left without speaking a single word to her. ‘What an arrogant prick has he become’ she thought to herself, angrily bringing the wine cup to her lips.

“Care for a dance, dear niece” she was suddenly brought back from her thoughts by Aegon who was now standing behind her. Seeing that his wife was dancing with Jace, Y/N reluctantly took the older prince’s hand and followed him across the hall.

The girl closed her eyes as she swayed, trying to forget who her partner was as she indulged in the music. A few moments later however, their dance was interrupted by a tap on Aegon’s shoulder and when she looked up before her was standing no other than Aemond, her Aemond. There was a wild look lingering in his eye, could that have been jealousy? She wondered for a second before moving towards his hands, continuing the dance. What she didn’t know however was that throughout her time with Aegon, the one eyed prince hadn’t left her from his sight, feelings he thought he had long forgotten, rushing back.

They didn’t speak the entire time yet they kept their eyes locked at each other’s and for a second Y/N could swear that she had caught a glimpse of the Aemond she remembered and so deeply cared for.

“I missed you” she whispered, almost to herself. His stern expression softened, serving as a proof that he had heard her. This intimate moment however was cut short as the king was being escorted back to his chambers and before she knew it, they were again sitting at the table. Much to her mother and brothers’ displeasure, Y/N was now seated beside Aemond.

Despite Viserys’ departure the feast continued, servants bringing dish after dish.

Luke couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as a large roasted pig was placed in front of his uncle, earning him a warning look from his sister. Y/N then grabbed at Aemond’s hand trying to calm him down but alas, the prince stood up giving a toast to his ‘strong’ nephews. It didn’t take long for a quarrel to erupt, after his insinuations, with Jace punching the prince across his face but before the fight could further escalate, Y/N quickly leapt between her brother and uncle.

“Aemond, don’t, please,that’s enough”

Just as she could never refuse anything to him, so couldn’t he, the prince scoffed and headed out.

Y/N tried to follow after him but was stopped by her mother. “Don’t even consider it” Rhaenyra pulled at her arm “Don’t betray your family once again”

It must’ve been past midnight yet sleep wouldn’t come upon Y/N, so instead of forcing it, the young maiden decided to take a stroll across the castle hallways.

Suddenly a strong arm was wrapped around her mouth, pushing her against the nearest wall.

“I missed you too, dear niece” a deep voice whispered in her ear. The only light coming from the moon, shining through the nearby window, illuminating the so familiar smirk spread across the man’s face.

“Aemond?!” the girl exhaled, looking closer at the handsome face of her ‘attacker’. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You never came to visit me after the incident, never even said goodbye” he hissed, hints of sadness in his voice.

“Oh Aemond, you have no idea how hard I tried to, but mother wouldn’t let me, she put guards in front of my chambers” Y/N softened her features, moving her hand to his cheek.

“Don’t go back to Dragonstone, stay” he placed his hand on top of hers.

“Why would I, am I not a bastard too, like my brothers?” she suddenly snapped, reminding him of the prior events.

“Ohh, the fuck with this” he grunted, smashing his lips on top of hers. This action caught Y/N completely by surprise yet it didn’t take long for her to eagerly kiss him back, tangling her fingers in his soft silver locks. This was her Aemond she was kissing, the young boy she had unknowingly fallen for way back when they were kids.

“We were always meant to be together, Y/N” he smirked as they pulled away from the kiss.

“Mother, I won’t go back to Dragonstone” she had gone to the godswood to announce her decision to Rhaenyra.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t want to go, I want to stay here” Y/N repeated, trying not to show the trembling in her voice.

“You, you are responsible for this, aren’t you?” Rhaenyra pointed at Aemond who had just approached them. “Haven’t you done enough harm to her!?”

“I simply wish to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage, princess, to strengthen our houses” his infamous smirk, still lingering.

“What makes you think I’ll sacrifice my only daughter to you?” She hissed through gritted teeth.

“Mother, you tried to separate us years ago yet the gods once again brought us together, we were meant to be together” Y/N repeated Aemond’s words from the prior night.

“If that’s your decision, then so be it, I’ll give you my blessing, but remember, once you’ve chosen which side you’re on, there is no going back” Rhaenyra sighed as she left the young couple.

Those words pierced at Y/N’s heart, but she knew she had made the right decision, choosing to marry the one she loved and she was determined to go against anything that would try to separate them.

Tag list:

@ellathefriendlyalpacaaa

@believeinthefireflies95

@caspianobsessed

@hayoooos-blog

@kitkat-writes-stuff

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd 1x08 #hotd x reader #house targaryen

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thethiefandtheairbender · 1 month

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I think the biggest difference for me between projects (like to be clear I think NATLA is not good as an adaptation or a show, and I think the PJO tv show works as an adaptation and a show) is something that feels so basic, but shocked me when it clicked, which is that

NATLA has no actual visual storytelling going on

Which sounds ridiculous, but let me explain what I mean. "Visual storytelling" is how you communicate aspects of character or relationship through visual framing, parallels, that kind of thing, usually to indicate progression or a character's viewpoint. Many people have noticed that NATLA's cinematography leaves much to be desired, there are some shots that are good particularly in episode 6 (the Zuko transition shots between past and present, and one of the ending shots between him and Aang) but that's by and large the exception.

What I mean when I say "visual storytelling" is that NATLA doesn't have visual motifs. It doesn't really have parallels happening that much in the text or in the visuals. And this is something that ATLA did really, really well, all the time, particularly with Zuko's scar. Just take this framing of Zuko and Aang, in particular, from The Storm and The Blue Spirit.

They even have consistent colour tones of Aang having a warmer, lighter yellow (Air Nomad) and Zuko having a darker, deeper red (Fire Nation).

And this is something I think Percy Jackson does pretty well. They have consistent motifs / descriptions if it were, particularly when it comes to Percy and Annabeth's relationship and her character.

Percy: [Choosing Annabeth] And if the mission required someone to push me down a flight of stairs for it to succeed, you want someone who won't hesitate when they do it.

Percy: [literally pushes her down the stairs but to save her life]

Ares: You're new to the family, young one, so let me fill you in on how we work. [...] Olympians fight. We betray. We backstab. We will push anyone down a flight of stairs to get ahead. Annabeth: This isn't the Arch, Seaweed Brain. You're not pushing me into the stairwell aagain. Percy: Yes I am! [...] It's why you're here. When I was choosing my team, I told Chiron I needed someone who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice me if the quest required it. He agreed. That was you. [...] You're better at this than me. You just are.

Annabeth: [Refusing to get back in Athena's good graces] It isn't how it should be! It isn't. Eat or be eaten [referencing the Kronos story Ares said earlier]. Power and glory and nothing else matters. Ares is that way. Zeus is that way. My mother is that way. He isn't that way. He's better than that. Maybe I was that way once. But I don't wanna be that way anymore. I won't be like all of you. I just won't.

But we also see this visually.

And to be clear I think it's well done, I'm not saying this kind of thing is a Masterpiece™ but what I am saying is that if you do these things, it's a great way to convey information to your audience visually and a sense of progress both in individual characterization and relationship development. And it just makes sense to lean on things visually if you're a visual medium, because prose can't do framing like this to the same degree.

And NATLA just... never does it. There's almost no real parallels, there's very little framing happening, and the even more intense overload of exposition does not help matters in this way either. The original series had a lot of parallels steadily built up (i.e. Aang's presence in the SWT and Sokka's plotline in Jet -- hell, even some of the lines he gets at Roku's Fire Sage temple -- were to show how Sokka was moving away from a more xenophobic worldview even if it was still a work in progress). There were also more overt ones, such as Sokka dressing himself for battle versus Zuko having guards/servants do it for him, but both ultimately tether the two together into having to put on a performance of confidence, manhood, and war more so than being the children they actually are.

And NATLA just has... no real visual parallels. The closest we get is the parallels between Sokka-Yue, Tui and La, and Kataang in the finale, but that's about it.

There's not a lot of scenes where a character is presented the chance to make a similar choice only to then make a different one. Even Aang wanting to go to the NWT to make a difference is muted because he never actually ran away in the first place; when you rip away character flaws or mistakes, you also gut their room for growth. When you strip away visual storytelling, it means that what you see on screen is a 1:1 of exactly what you're getting, and that is just a lot more Boring to watch as well as gutting your chances to show more character exposition. And it's just - it's just not good

#natla critical #natla #pjo tv show #the one that kills me the most is when hahn is like 'you have something the rest of us don't [in fighting the FN]: experience'#and it's like. sokka has not fought zuko or barely any firebenders since the pilot #the only other time his fighting skills got developed was with suki. also at the beginning #he has not done basically anything since then warrior wise. nvm with the fire nation directly #analysis series #analysis #sincerely a very tired nb english major #pjo

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ofduskanddreams · 6 months

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Take Me If You Can [teaser]

Happy Halloween! This is not a trick, just a treat for all of you <3 Kinky canon-verse Azris is coming soon, though not quite in time to qualify as a kinktober fic. Minors DNI. Please be mindful of the warnings before clicking beyond the break. This isn't as edited as my usual stuff so please be kind to me.

I used my usual Azris taglist for this but if this snippet isn't your vibe than please disregard the tag. Have a great Halloween :)

CONTENT WARNINGS: CNC (Consensual Non-Consent,) violence, fighting, chasing/hunting, bondage, primal play, making the fae be FAE™, degradation, cutting off clothes, teasing, faebane is involved, toxic masculinity.

Azriel feels the faebane enter his bloodstream immediately, his shadows fade and the stones on the backs of his hands lose their light. As usual, his first reaction is panic. And since Azriel is no coward, he’ll choose fight over literal flight every time. His lungs tighten, gaze searching for any sign of the Autumn male as his heart beats too quickly. Even though this is something he chose, something he asked for, has begged for before, it still goes against every instinct that has kept him alive for the past five and a half centuries.

“You know you can make things easier for yourself any time, Shadowsinger.”

Eris’s voice echoes off the trees, the bastard is using a spell that makes it impossible for Azriel to guess his location because the sound surrounds him.

“Just say the word,” Eris taunts, “or stay still for once like a good little brute and let me catch you.”

Stay still? Like hell he will. Azriel takes off, sprinting across the cushion of fallen needles and moss.

He sidesteps a tree root arching out of the loamy earth, air already sawing in and out of his lungs.

Eris’s laugh sounds from somewhere in front of him. Azriel skids on the soil, turning so quickly he has to push himself off a sap-sticky trunk to stop from crashing into it.

“Running is pointless, you know?”

And Azriel hates himself for the way that coldly arrogant voice, those unmistakably posh vowels, sends a bolt of desire shooting down his spine.

“You will never outrun me. If you try to hide, I will find you. If you try to fly away, I will winnow to you in an instant and take you someplace where no one will hear the way you’ll be screaming for me by the end of the night.”

Azriel runs faster, eyes adjusting to the rapidly darkening forest. He thinks there’s a lake nearby and starts heading in that direction. If he can get to any kind of clearing, he’ll stand a better chance.

Eris doesn’t stop trying to bait him, still projecting his voice so it hits Azriel from every direction.

“You’re nothing without your magic, Shadowsinger. You’re just a helpless male. A coward running instead of facing me. Without your shadows, without your power, you’re useless. What good is a spymaster who can’t spy? A soldier who’s too scared to fight?”

Azriel sees a glimmer through the trees up ahead—moonlight on rippling water.

“What chance do you, a powerless brute, have against me—a high fae prince, the heir to the Autumn Court?” Eris laughs again, “The fact of the matter is that you don’t. I will always find you, Azriel.”

And fuck but the surety in Eris’s voice makes Azriel’s cock stiffen in his leathers. He palms himself hard enough to hurt—not the good kind of hurt—because he can’t afford an erection slowing him down, not when the lake is so close.

“And, when I catch you, I’ll show you exactly what use you’ll be to me.”

It’s a threat. It’s a promise.

Azriel breaks through the tree line and onto the gravelly shore.

But he hasn’t been thinking ahead, doesn’t know where to go because the only options are the water, back into the forest, or into the sky. Flying is the surest way to be caught. Illyrian wings are a hindrance to swimming. The forest means he loses any advantage this clear line of sight gives him.

Though these thoughts fly through his mind in an instant, that’s all it takes. A warm weight slams into him and sends both of their bodies crashing onto the gravel. Azriel lands on his back and the stones bite into his wings, dozens of small cuts on the sensitive membrane open as one—a symphony of exquisitely bright pain blooming.

“Hello, little bat,” Eris sneers above him, auburn curls falling onto his forehead from the chase. The princeling cocks his head, “Giving in so soon?”

“Never,” Azriel growls, slamming a fist into Eris’s side, just below his ribs and rearing up. His forehead meets Eris’s with a crack, shards of light splinter through his vision but Azriel works on muscle memory, throwing Eris off balance and flipping them.

But as he reaches to grab a fistful of Eris’s hair and pin his head in place, the male smirks. Heat wraps around Azriel’s extended wrist as the world darkens, the lake dissolves and he can’t breathe, can’t….

His shoulders burn as his arms are stretched above him to their limit, the rough bark of a tree trunk presses into the open cut on his cheek and Azriel hisses as the hand on his nape presses harder.

“Pathetic,” Eris scoffs, releasing his head with a shove.

Azriel tries to hit him, kick him, something, but his legs won’t move. Glancing down, he sees ropes of flame wrapped around his ankles, glowing orange against the darkness.

“Thinking you could run from me? Honestly,” from somewhere behind him Eris tuts disapprovingly, “this level of delusion would be cute if it weren’t so pitiful.”

“Fuck you,” Azriel cranes his neck and spits but it lands a few feet short of Eris’s polished boots.

“Oh, don’t worry little bat, you will. Try that again. If you make it, I’ll let you lick them clean.”

Despite himself, Azriel’s getting hard. He presses his forehead against the uneven bark, trying to stop the blood from rushing out of his head.

“Oh, I think you like the sound of that,” Eris croons, close enough for Azriel to feel the warmth of his breath on the shell of his ear. “Is that what you are, Azriel? Nothing better than a dog panting at my feet?”

Azriel throws his head back hoping to hit Eris, but all he succeeds in doing is pulling a muscle.

Then there’s cool metal and the familiar edge of a gemstone dragging down the central tendon of his right wing and Azriel’s breath leaves his lungs all at once as he arches into the touch.

Eris chuckles, “Look at you. The famed spymaster of the Night Court, the legendary shadowsinger, and you barely put up a fight. Already so desperate for me.”

“I’m not done fighting,” Azriel sneers, struggling against the restraints.

“Oh but you are,” Eris sounds gleeful. The heat of him presses Azriel into the unyielding tree. Azriel can’t help the noise that slips past his lips when Eris reaches into his leathers without warning and wraps his fingers around Azriel’s cock and strokes leisurely. “Just as I thought.”

The heat of Eris’s skin, the cool metal of his rings, makes Azriel shudder. Eris’s teeth graze the tattoos on his neck and Azriel’s torn between trying to headbutt him again and giving him better access to the sensitive expanse of skin.

“I know how much you hate this,” condescension laces Eris’s words. “You hate that I’m the only one who can give you what you need.” He sighs, releasing Azriel’s cock. “It must be so frustrating not being able to allow yourself the things you want, needing someone else to give them to you, needing me to be that someone.”

A vertical line of pressure lands between Azriel’s shoulder blades—a knife, larger than the one with the faebane.

“Stop,” he grits out, though it lacks conviction.

The moment Eris tackled him onto the lakeshore, Azriel realized how long it’s been since their last game, and just how tired he is. It’s been months since Nyx was born—since Azriel almost lost a third of his family in a single moment and has been doing everything in his power since then to make sure everyone is safe.

The blade cuts through the laces running down his spine, the night air eliciting goosebumps on the newly exposed skin.

“Eris,” Azriel warns. The knife stills halfway through its journey.

“Yes, Azriel?”

The waiting blade, the lack of derision in the words—Azriel doesn’t need to be told that Eris is giving him a chance to stop this now.

He should take it. Azriel should never have let things get this far. Eris is right that a part of him loathes how much he craves this, craves him—the male he’s hated for so long, who’s impossibly complicated, whose masks are so layered that he doesn’t know where they end and Eris begins.

This goes against everything he’s believed his whole life: vulnerability is weakness, weakness is shameful. The last place he should ever want to be is at someone else’s mercy. He’s Rhysand’s spymaster for fuck’s sake—Azriel is the one who binds, he’s the one who wields the blade. It’s who he’s always been: the person everyone needs him to be

— — —full fic coming soon-ish!

tagging : @iftheshoef1tz @damedechance @panicatthenightcourt @moonpatroclus @foundress0fnothing @krem-does-stuff @octobers-veryown @born-to-riot @melonsfantasyworld @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @lady-riel @chunkypossum @catboyjamesbond @queercontrarian @asnowfern @valkyrieassassin @wilde-knight @xtaketwox @itsthedoodle @areyoudreaminof @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @ablogofsapphicpanic @separatist-apologist @fieldofdaisiies @melphss @bubybubsters @nestas-workwife

if you want to be added to/removed from my azris taglist just let me know :)

#azris #azris fanfiction #azriel x eris #eris x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar fanfiction #cw: kink #cw: cnc #kinktober 2023 #kind of not really #it is in spirit

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imnotsimpingyouare · 11 months

Text

ENAMORED (III)

Modern Hantengu clones x Reader

Featuring:

"Pissed Cubicle Worker" Sekido

"Depressed Programmer" Aizetsu

"That Guy in the Alley" Karaku

"Unfunny YouTube Prankster" Urogi

"Disappointed Grandpa" Hantengu

"Delinquent Middle Schooler" Zohakuten

"Possibly a Criminal" Akaza

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

You will not be shipped with Zohakuten or Hantengu because:

A.) One is an old man

B.) One is a young boy

Ty for your time 😌

We're going with Zohakuten to school :D not really but like yk

I decided to give the bb a little crush because him trying to figure himself out would be so funny 💀

Also fem!Y/N gets a date with the mystery criminal man 🤨

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Zohakuten shut the car door, feeling triumphant. Guess who's getting ice cream after school? Equally as good as getting a rise out of his teachers.

He wandered into the building, fashionably on time for once. The bell rang right as he stepped in, and all of the kids began heading to class. The main hall was.. huge, to say the least. Two sets of stairs surrounded a balcony over the cafeteria, and to his left were halls sprouting in different directions. The green and white checkered floor squeaked with all of the shoes walking on it.

Zohakuten's first class was Mathematics, the worst class. Well, they were all insufferable, but Math was the worst.

He walked through a hall to his left, passing the music rooms on the way. Some of the rooms he passed were smaller with sound-proof glass doors, sometimes with stands and chairs set up in them. He never bothered to look, but he stopped at one when he heard the sound of a piano.

A girl sat there, her brown hair covering her face. Her fingers danced on the keys, and Zohakuten leaned closer to the glass to listen. Suddenly, her phone lit up, and she looked his way.

Oh no.

In an instant, he goes into fight or flight mode, choosing to fight his way to victory. He tosses his phone onto the ground, bending down to pick it up.

Will she fall for that?

Beads of sweat form on his forehead when he looks up and sees the girl completely unphased and wearing an unreadable expression.

Okay, now it's time to run.

The day was only getting started.

○○○○○

The old man stared at you for a moment.

"Amazing! When will you come to stay?" He said in his trembling voice.

"Umm, I don't know. I'm not nearly done here, and I still have to pack and move all my things..." You begin, but he hushes you.

"Nonononono, sweet girl, I will send my sons to help you move. They could use the work out. Especially that one," He says, pointing a shaking scrawny finger at Karaku, who is standing there with his mouth agape.

"I didn't sign up for this, I've got business to do today." He says, crossing his arms.

"The boy will help you," he says, before wandering away in the direction he came.

Your face flushes when Karaku turns to look at you. "I'm sorry. You don't have to help me, I don't have that many things in the first place." You say, gathering your supplies to move to the next area of the home.

His green eyes linger on you for a moment, and before he can say anything you've already shuffled out of the room with your stuff in your hands.

Not like he'd hate helping a woman like yourself out anyway. He only laughed to himself, before turning in his bunny slippers and slinking away to his room.

○○○○○

Zohakuten arrived fashionably late to class, as per usual. The teacher didn't even seem to care anymore, having already marked him as tardy.

He sat at his desk. There were a little less than 30 kids in the class, and all of them were shitheads. They all talked and grouped up without him. Although he was on *good terms* with nearly everyone at the school, sometimes it felt like there was no one who was actually his friend.

He looked across the room, and that girl's stare met his. He immediately looked away.

She was in this class? How long has she been here without anyone knowing?

Why did his face feel warm? It's just some random kid who looked at him funny. Not a big deal.

Not a big deal at all.

He could feel her eyes lingering on him for a moment before the teacher stood up and began the lesson.

○○○○○

It had been hours since you'd left Karaku alone in the kitchen, and you'd successfully cleaned the first two stories of the house. The first contained the kitchen, dining area and living room, and the second one contained most of the brothers' rooms and some sort of game room. It made you slightly jealous how they were able to live in such luxury, but you know that they've probably worked hard for what they have now.

That's just what happens when you put several incomes together.

You felt your stomach growl. It was way last lunch time. Usually you'd get a break, but this house was taking long enough. You'd rather finish up the job and–

A large hand touched your waist. Laughter erupted at the way your body stiffened following suit, and you felt a voice somewhere close to your ear.

"Wanna get lunch with us? Me, Aizetsu, and Karaku are going."

You turned around to find the man who had attacked you earlier, now close to you with a.. less devious smile than before.

"Uh.. I just.. need to finish the house so I can–"

Immediately you felt the broom being tugged from your hold, and strong hands wrapped around your knees and lower back. He had picked you up, and was now carrying you bridal-style down the stairs. "W-wait! I have to.."

He only shushed you, laughing at your attempt to free yourself from his hold. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, the other two were waiting for you.

Aizetsu shot a pitiful look your way. "Urogi put her down, you're gonna scare her."

He released you, but kept an eye on you to make sure you weren't trying to slink away.

"Where we going?" He asked, looking at Karaku, who only shrugged.

You felt kind of small around them, standing awkwardly while they conversed amongst themselves. Aizetsu's eyes turned to you. "Do you like milkshakes?"

You nodded your head up at him, and the three of them nodded at the same time, which was really creepy. But Urogi's playful gaze landed on you as Karaku reached for his keys.

"Little lady, have you ever ridden a motorcycle?"

○○○○○

"Wait. Let me off. I'm going with Karaku." You said sounding nervous. You were seated behind him on his motorcycle, him revving the engine as Karaku and Aizetsu climbed into his jeep.

"Having second thoughts?" He teased. Before you could answer, he turned around and stuck a helmet on your head. Then, as you were trying to adjust the strap, you realized it wasn't a helmet meant for a motorcycle.

"Urogi... is this a bicycle helmet?"

"...tricycle."

That was the last thing he said to you, turning around to put one of his huge leather jackets over your shoulders.

After you got it on properly, he pulled out of the driveway, cackling like a maniac as you sped past Karaku and Aizetsu.

Looking into the mirrors of his bike (even though it was kind of hard to see past his shoulders) you could see Aizetsu's horrified expression in the passenger seat of the jeep.

"By the way, if I lean one way, you also have to lean that way, or we'll fall and die." He had no trouble speaking over the sound of the wind. He sped up even more, which was definitely illegal on a residential road, but you just hugged him tighter.

The diner you arrived at was small, but lack of available parking spaces reassured you it was good. Urogi helped you off of his bike, and undid your goofy tricyle helmet. The other two were walking over from a little ways away, but he looked down at you and smiled.

"That's my favorite jacket you're wearing."

You all walked inside and seated yourselves at a booth. The diner was small, but the lighting was comfortable. You sat closest to the window, next to Urogi, and Aizetsu was across from you with Karaku next to him. On the walls were vintage pictures of cars and people with information about them. While you busied yourself reading, Karaku and Urogi played tic-tac-toe on one of the kids' menus with green and yellow crayons. (Yes, they asked the waitress for a kids' menu, just to play tic-tac-toe)

Aizetsu was eyeing you from time to time, so intensely that you knew he wanted to say something. You gathered the courage to meet his eyes with your own.

"Um, what's your name?" He asked, fiddling with the edge of his menu.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh no, you're taking me to lunch and I haven't even told you my name. I'm Y/N." You say, before extending a hand in his direction.

In that instant, he looked at you like he'd never seen a hand in his life. Karaku laughed at his awkwardness, and shook your hand in his absence. "Y/N is a lovely name."

The waitress comes by and takes your orders, disappearing into the back to relay them to the chef. Karaku grins at you before using the crayon as a microphone.

"Hear ye, hear ye," He begins. Everyone's attention is already on him, obviously, and Aizetsu looks like he wants to die.

"Y/N's gonna be living with us."

Urogi clapped like a little kid and Aizetsu looked more shocked than anything.

"Why?" He said, before looking at you. "Not that I don't... I meant it like, why would you–"

"She's our maid now!" Karaku interrupted, seemingly lighting a fire in Urogi's soul.

"Oooooo! Is she gonna walk around in one of those cute mai–"

"I prefer the term housekeeper." You said in a shy manner, feeling your face get hot.

"Housekeeper." He restated matter-of-factly.

Aizetsu looked at you. "Living with us? What would possess you to do that?"

You sighed ever so slightly, feeling all eyes on you. "I actually got fired today. I'd rather be a housekeeper than have to start fresh on a new job.."

Right on cue, the waitress came to your table, holding a tray with all of your food on it. She passed it out, but when she walked away, there was a strange aura coming from someone at the table.

Aizetsu was looking down at his food, eyes darting nervously from Karaku to Urogi.

They were busy digging in at the moment, but when his eyes met yours, you felt he was begging you not to say something. He grabbed his fork and picked at his salad, which was on the side of his actual meal.

As soon as Karaku heard the clink of the fork against the bowl, his whole head snapped to Aizetsu.

"...is there something wrong?"

"..no."

"Look me in the eye."

"It's fine. The food is fine. The food is good. Mmm. My favorite." Aizetsu said, suddenly grabbing his burger and taking a big bite.

The waitress was coming around again to refill Urogi's drink, and you could feel the tension at the table.

"Karaku, please don't.."

She was getting closer.

Urogi began to open his mouth as well, but Aizetsu begged him not to.

"Is everything alright?" The waitress said with her pitcher of tea, refilling Urogi's drink with a nervous look on her face.

"He asked for no pickles." Karaku said, and Aizetsu slumped down in his seat.

"Oh no, I'm sorry. Let me get that for you." She said, reaching over to grab his plate.

He seemed to slump more under the table the closer her hand got, so you reached over to hand the plate to her.

"I'll have your replacement made now." She says, before walking away.

"See that wasn't so hard, was it?" Karaku said, tussling his poor brother's hair.

"You embarrassed me..." Aizetsu whined, before everyone else at the table busted out into laughter.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

○○○○○

It was already around 3:00 before you had the opportunity to leave the house, gathering your cleaning supplies into the back of your car.

Urogi clung to your arm and followed you all the way out. "Awww, do you really have to go?" He pouted at you.

"I'll be back soon with my stuff." You stated. "I have to turn my uniform and supplies in to my boss."

He stood idly on the lawn, waving at you as your car backed out of the drive. "BYE Y/N!!"

You couldn't help but feel a smile creeping onto your face, but you shook it off and drove to your workplace (ex-workplace).

○○○○○

You stepped into Murata's Service Emporium for the last time, a feeling of relief washing over your chest. God, you never realized how much you hated this place until now. You wandered your way into your boss's office after putting the cleaning supplies away. You had changed into some normal clothes, and were now holding the itchy uniform in your hand.

Your boss had been expecting you.

"Y/N." He said, before snatching the uniform from your hands. He stuck out a check to you. "There."

You didn't even bother saying bye, just walking out of the door and back to your car. The last time you'll ever need to be in that building. A smile was on your face, and you thought it would have a long stay there.

○○○○○

"Hey, do you need any help?"

A man's voice came from behind you, and you turned, holding a large box in your hands.

"Umm, yeah, thank you." You said in a quiet voice, and he took the box with a smile while you grabbed another from inside of your apartment.

"What's all this for?" He asked, placing it in your trunk.

"Well, I'm moving out. Got another job in town, and..."

His smile turned into a small frown. "Oh, I was hoping I'd see you around more." He sighed.

Your face turned red, and you almost dropped the box in your hands. "Wh– uh, well, I never said I was opposed to seeing you again." You admitted shyly, his tattooed arms crossing infront of him as he raised a brow.

"Wanna grab some ice cream after we load your things?"

#demon slayer #demon slayer urogi #karaku #kimetsu no yaiba #kny karaku #kny #urogi #aizetsu #hantengu #kny aizetsu #akaza x y/n #akaza #demon slayer x reader

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profoundbondfanfic · 4 months

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Hey, I was wondering if you had any reverse fics, with Dean as an angel and Cas as the hunter ?

(also, you are doing God's work and I love your blog so so much ❤️❤️)

Hello there, thank you so much! And here are a few fics we've enjoyed:

Calming the Weather by seidenapfel [Explicit, 35k words]

Rescued from the Empty, Cas is fully human, and miserable. So, rather than acknowledge what happened in the dungeon, Dean searches for a way to change that. He finds it in a simple spell. The spell gives ordinary humans a limited dose of angelic powers. Too afraid it might harm Cas, Dean tests it on himself. But it backfires. Thanks to a piece of Grace bound to his soul, Dean wakes up fully powered, wings and all. With their roles reversed, it is up to Castiel to teach Dean how to wield angelic powers, and for Dean to share the peaks and lows of humanity with Castiel. Misconceptions come to light as they learn from each other. Meanwhile, a storm is brewing. In order to stop it, Dean not only has to get a hold on his emotions, but he must face a revelation about himself, one he had repressed all his life.

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) [Explicit, 5k words]

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy. “Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

Grace the Gun by chevrolangels [Explicit, 169k words]

He’s got a shotgun in his hand and his mother’s broken rosary around his neck. His eye is cut open and dripping, and he’s got forty years of Hell fresh in his mind. Do not. Fuck with him. It's been four months since he died, when Castiel wakes up, six feet below the ground, alive. Alive without an explanation, with a mysterious itch under his skin and rumors of a whisper, a whisper of something so powerful, that demons themselves are running scared. Then he meets the thing that pulled him out—a spitfire angel named Dean, who turns out to be nothing to run from. With his sister Anna at his side, Gabriel at his back, and three angels in their corner, they're gonna take the fight to them. And they're gonna show God just exactly how they feel about his plan for fate and destiny.

Hunting for Faith by perunamuusa, riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 270k words]

It starts a few days earlier. Castiel first notices it in the middle of the night when the dreams of fire and screams have kept him awake. He’s kneeling before the altar, praying, when the glass in the windows start to shake, the very air vibrating around him. Castiel is on his feet and reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his pants as the shutters over the windows start to rattle.

My Roots Take Flight by KismetJeska [Mature, 125k words]

After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

Obey His Word by K_K_TiBal [Teen and Up, 33k words]

When Castiel was ten years old, he was cursed to always be obedient. Now he’s a hunter—not the best one at his job, admittedly, since he’s always forced to comply with the monsters that beg for their life. Everything changes on one such hunt, when an angel named Dean saves his life, and tells Castiel that he’s searching for his missing brother, Sam. His naive callousness about humans and give-em-Hell attitude is off-putting, but Dean ends up being exactly what Castiel didn’t know he needed. As he grows closer to Dean, he tries to keep the secret of the curse close to his chest—but the past always has a way of exposing the truth. Curses are hard—but trust is harder.

the rapture of distress by ozonecologne [Mature, 16k words]

Castiel swung his legs around the edge of the bed and leaned forward, setting the eggs aside. He briefly entertained the notion of patting Dean’s knee, so close to his own now, before deciding against it. Holding hands in your sleep is weird enough. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn't the end of the world," he consoled, wiping some grease from his mouth. Dean looked up then, and he remained guiltily silent. Castiel’s eyebrows shot up, up, up, along with his heart rate. His breakfast stuck like glue in his throat. "The end of the world?" Dean winced. "I'm working on it." A reverse!verse AU in which Castiel is a hunter and he’s visited by an angel.

To Hold In Your Hands by saltnhalo [Teen and Up, 6k words]

Castiel has never wanted an angel. He does just fine on his own, has for a long time—since he was old enough to hold a shotgun and make a salt circle. He’s proud of what he’s been able to achieve without angelic help, and the longer he can keep hunting solo, the better. But judging by the summons he’s just received to the Men of Letters’ bunker, his time is up. He can’t avoid his future angel partner any longer. (aka. five times that Dean saves Castiel's life, and five times that Castiel slowly learns angels aren't as bad as he'd thought)

#asks #reverse verse

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pixelblaze · 1 year

Note

Hello! I love your writing and was wondering if you would be able to do some general headcanons about what it’d be like to be married to Claude? Maybe with some angst sprinkled in, if you can? Thank you for your time!

Yes I can! Thank you for the request!

-Claude von Riegan as a husband-

-A very devoted and loyal husband, will love you til the end of time.

-That being said, he’s also a very very busy man. Often away for diplomatic meetings and councils.

-So his love languages are mainly gifts and acts of service, quality time is rare but he’ll do his best to make it happen.

-You usually receive letters from him, and gifts of jewelry or other trinkets from wherever he’s currently visiting on diplomatic business.

-When you do get to spend time together, he’s very sweet.

-A big fan of physical affection. Hugs and hair ruffling and the like. It’s how he shows his love for you.

-He loves to just sit and listen to you talk about your day, especially because he hardly gets to spend any time with you, and it’s important for him to know how you’re doing.

-He loves taking you on romantic evening wyvern flights. It’s a great way for him to blow off some steam AND spend some time with you!

-Romantic strolls through the palace gardens are another great way to spend time with him.

-He seriously does his best to squeeze you into his schedule at every available opportunity. Even if it’s him just quickly stopping by to say hi on his way to his next meeting.

-He loves to playfully tease you. It’s all in good fun and he never means any harm by it.

-He takes you on diplomatic missions whenever he can. Having you by his side brings him a sort of peace and calmness that he needs.

-He always appreciates your inputs when it comes to his diplomatic affairs. You’re his soundboard, and he appreciates your advice and fresh perspective. You keep him grounded.

-Anniversaries are seriously important to him, and he always does everything in his power to make it on time to celebrate your anniversary together. If he knows he can’t, he writes you the longest, sweetest apology letter and sends you multiple gifts, promising to make it up to you next year.

-It hurts, but you understand that he’s not choosing work over you, he’s just doing what he has to do.

-He never wants you to feel like work is more important than you, but sometimes that’s how it seems. He really tries to make things right with you when he neglects you for work.

-He wants to raise a family with you. He really really does. But he’s just…too busy. At least right now. But I imagine he’d be a wonderful, but a super busy father.

-The two of you don’t really fight, but when you do…

-It’s typically about his work schedule, how he’s overworking himself, how he’s obsessed with work-

-We’re talking him getting up at three in the morning to prepare his speeches and get himself ready for the day.

-He comes home exhausted, and you feel so bad for him. It’s not fair he has to work himself THIS hard, he deserves a break.

-And he gets where you’re coming from. He really does. But he HAS to work himself as hard as he does or nothing will get done!

-He gives you lots of empty promises about how he’s going to work himself a little less hard, and that he’ll take more breaks.

-You agree to disagree about his work schedule.

-He gets back to working on his speech, and you go back to bed.

-He does feel bad about it though. He knows what you’re saying comes from a place of love, and he’ll leave you some flowers and an apology note on your bedside drawer before he leaves for work that day, thanking you for doing your best and being so patient with him.

-He really does appreciate your patience and kindness, and someday he intends to repay that in full.

#Fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem claude #fire emblem Claude Von Riegan #Fire emblem Claude x reader #Fire emblem three houses x reader #Fire emblem Claude von Riegan x reader #My writing #Claude von Riegan x reader

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onewingedsparrow · 2 months

Text

The first time the Cee Bee Siblings look at each other in Prime

The last time the Cee Bee Siblings look at each other in Prime

The opposite mood of these bookends...! The storyboarding told in the colors of the scenes and posture of the characters...! (I'm not crying, you're crying) Warning, this is a long post. ;) I have a lot to say about the Cee Bee Siblings and the storyboarding of Transformers: Prime! I already fell in love with the first Cee Bee bookends I noticed earlier in "Darkness Rising Part 1," as well as earlier in "Predacons Rising." Discovering those bookends made me want to search for more, and I'm delighted to find these ones here. This particular pair of bookends above will always be one of my favorites. It's beautiful how many times Arcee and Bumblebee share a glance in Transformers: Prime. You just know from how often they look at each other, and the moments wherein they look at each other, that they share a long history with all the sharp secondhand embarrassment; snarky, sassy teasing; and silly inside jokes that come packaged with a close relationship. The opposing contexts that bring Arcee and Bumblebee to glance at each other in these bookends here are fascinating.

Prior to both these snapshots, Team Prime was engaged in a hectic, draining battle directly linked to death.

In "Darkness Rising Part 1," at the beginning of TFP, Arcee was grieving the recent loss of Cliffjumper when she got caught in a scuffle with Eradicons, a scuffle into which Bumblebee and Bulkhead then jumped to help her out. In "Predacons Rising," at the end of TFP, Team Prime was grieving the immediate loss of Optimus, upon learning that he willingly merged the Matrix of Leadership and therefore his own spark with the Allspark. In the first situation, Bumblebee and Arcee have a tough time battling the Eradicons. Exhaustion from grief, the distraction of the unplanned spectating humans, and other factors take a toll on their fighting. Despite the fact that the battle is 2 vs 2, and despite the fact that Arcee and Bumblebee are usually a highly efficient team, the Cee Bee Siblings are locked in a stalemate with their opponents, until Bulkhead (belatedly) shows up and the Eradicons (wisely) choose to skedaddle. Once the Eradicons leave, Bumblebee hunches over to catch his breath, and Arcee dryly shoots up at Bulkhead, "What took you?" to which Bulkhead replies, "Traffic." At this, Arcee and Bumblebee share a look, their first shared glance of many in the series, and the scene ends. While this "Traffic" joke is amusing to the audience (who knows full well what it's like to be stuck in traffic), I don't think Arcee and Bumblebee's reaction was tied to the humor beyond the fourth wall. Rather, what I see here between them is a glance of relief mingled with grief. After all, if Team Prime hadn't been delayed earlier, whether by traffic or otherwise, they would have been able to save Cliffjumper from death. In the second situation, Team Prime has just listened to Optimus Prime's farewell before his final flight, directly into the Well of All Sparks. While they stand on the edge of the Well, hundreds of lights, new sparks, burst forth, scattering like fireworks as new life at last returns to the once-desolate Cybertron. Team Prime stares, awed at the spectacle, until one especial spark catches their notice—a spark that dances above them, glowing with blue and red, while Optimus' voiceover closes the cinematic storybook that is Transformers: Prime. Only then—only then—do Arcee and Bumblebee look at each other. Where once grief over Optimus' passing darkened their faces, now, in their expressions, there is simply joy. Joy for the new beginning of which Optimus speaks. Joy for the knowledge that while death is an ending, death is not the end. Joy for the freedom they've found, for the war they've won, for the peace they've protected. No more do their wings droop from weariness; no, their wings stay upraised and alert. Gone is the exhaustion that once clouded their eyes; now, there is only light. In place of the frowns that they once held, smiles grace their faces. Though once they stood under the dusk of Earth, a striking symbolism for the darkness rising, now, instead, on Cybertron, they catch the glow of the brilliant sparks above, illuminated by the very future they fought so hard to see. Both these bookends were touched by death and grief beforehand. But the beauty of the contrast, the hope that shines in TFP, is that no matter how deep the tragedy, no matter how dark the hour, the ending will always be brighter than the beginning. Life has returned to Cybertron. Peace has ended the war. It's truly amazing to me how the very spark of Transformers: Prime can be encapsulated in something as simple as two passing glances between Bumblebee and Arcee.

#tfp spoilers #predacons rising spoilers #darkness rising part 1 #predacons rising #cee bee siblings #tfp arcee #tfp bumblebee #arcee #bumblebee #team prime #tfp #maccadam #salt and light #sparrow nerds about transformers #don't tag as ship i just wanna talk gen here <3 #i love tfp so much #transformers prime spoilers #storyboarding #cee bee bookends

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42-42-564 · 10 months

Text

just finished rewatching soul eater. crona maka and soul black blood trio. cannot stop thinking about the ways they differ and overlap

crona and ragnarok are two separate entities. ragnarok is an entire separate being that lives inside of crona. they have different wants and needs and personalities, but they do both value their body's survival, even when they're at each other's throats. as a pair they are the most separate and individual. their relationship is a constant struggle due to their circumstances (but i feel like they could definitely work it out)

the little demon is a separate entity within soul, but it's exclusively a mental presence. he's part of soul in the way that he's a manifestation of soul's "inner darkness" and his fear of losing control over that. the little demon is constantly trying to convince or trick soul into letting go and giving in to the catharsis of violently losing all composure. soul and the little demon definitely dont have the same working-together relationship as ragnarok and crona, where they choose to use the black blood to the body's advantage. the little demon wants this relationship (albeit one where he has full control), but soul is adamant that he alone retains control of his mind, body, and actions. he cares extremely how he acts and that he is doing what he feels is right, correct, or just the best option for him personally. the little demon isnt technically wrong! the black blood does what is promised: keeps maka from feeling fear that kept her thinking rationally against an irrational opponent. it was an important thing to take advantage of. unfortunately the little demon is a little demon and doesnt actually want whats best for soul.

maka's black blood presence is an instinctual, involuntary self-defense mechanism. she's literally dissociated as it kicks in, and it disappears when she comes to. she lives entirely unaware (or at least, we're meant to believe she is) that she's part weapon. that's some pretty intense repression. maka is shown to go fucking apeshit multiple times, usually when her emotions can no longer be put in check. when fight or flight kicks in and she chooses to fight. maka's scythes are barely organized or thought out in any way, they just appear and disappear as theyre needed. when shes truly cornered by asura they explode all around her in a desperate attempt to skewer him. maka's black blood presence isn't another entity the way crona and soul's are, but it serves the same purpose for survival.

i absolutely love treating soul and maka's situations similarly to crona and ragnarok's and i feel like its an under-explored idea. join me

#posts #soul eater #crona gorgon #soul evans #maka albarn

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mannaima · 2 years

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Can i request some filty noncon for eddie munson..

just imagine your dustins older sister you come home from collage for spring break and meet eddie, at first you dont think much of the lingering stares and ''accidental'' toutches if only u hadn't been so naive

Homesick

Omgmgk Fmfmfm I’ve literally been thinking of this exact scenario for days and I get THIS in my inbox. It’s like fate.

Summary: You take a trip back to Hawkins and you meet an unfamiliar character.

Pairing: Dark! Eddie Munson x fem! Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Noncon, pregnancy, breeding, slight stalking (if u squint), pevert eddie, babytrapping

Hawkins. A lovely place, something you wish you could say, but there’s a reason you moved almost across the country to California for college. Well, not the only reason, you had a wide variety of colleges to choose from compared to Indiana, but you wanted to get away from that stuffy town, and college was your chance. You’d never tell anyone that, no, it’s like the people of this town have some unspoken love for it, despite its many many flaws. Spring break was approaching, and you were given two weeks off. A phone call one night before your vacation revealed your mom had bought you tickets to come back to Indiana, much to your displeasure. You wanted to spend your last spring break getting drunk with some of the few friends you had, catching up on some reading and maybe making a mixtape or two. But instead, your gracious mother had decided the best decision would be to buy you a ticket to boring old Hawkins. You pretended to be excited on the phone with your mom, her giddy tone made you feel guilty for not wanting to come, but as soon as you bid her a “see you soon!” You nearly punched a hole in your wall out of anger. Say goodbye to drunk nights at some random frat house, and say hello to boring old Hawkins.

It had been almost a full three years since you last came home, you were slightly nervous of all the changes. The plane ride was like a blur. A long. Boring. Blur. You just hoped your mom was still the sweet, albeit, a little crazy, woman. And you hope your baby brother was still the little dork he was, you sorta missed them. The flight had finally ended, the pain searing through your body as you stood, you felt like you had worked out for hours. God, why was being on an airplane so exhausting. You had gathered your luggage and you had begun to look around for your mother and brother, who had promised to pick you up.

“Think fast!” You had whipped your head in the direction of the voice, it sounded familiar to your brother’s slight lisp, only to be smacked in the face with a bouquet of flowers.

“Dustin! That's no way to greet your sister!” Your mom began to scold him and hit him on the back, which prompted a sour look to appear on his face.

“It was just a joke…” you had smiled at him and gave him a hug, you didn’t really care, you just missed being around your family, despite not even wanting to come here in the first place. Your mom joined in the hug, which made you feel warm, for the first time in a long time.

————

After moving your clothes and other assorted items back into your old room, you had felt truly at home. Just like the old days, only now you felt a little less anxiety knowing you didn’t need an escape plan, it was all temporary.

You got the usual questions, “how’s school?” “Is everyone in California stuck up?” “Do you live next to a celebrity?” “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You particularly didn’t like that last question, but you opted to pretend like it was like the others, not wanting anyone to pry further. You had a nice dinner with your mom and Dustin, talking, laughing, just like the days when you were young. Dustin talked a lot about this hellfire club, his old friends that you didn’t care about enough to remember their names, and some new dude named Eddie, who was apparently twenty? You side eyed your mom, but she dismissed it, apparently he was a sweet kid. He talked about fighting the monsters around town, meeting his girlfriend, and a bunch of other stuff that made you smile. You were glad life wasn’t boring for him, he found happiness where he is. You wish you could say the same.

You bid them goodnight, you were basically half dead from the flight and all you wanted was the sweet comfort of your bed, which made you pass out almost immediately from the soft cushion feeling.

——-

“But mom, pleaseeeee! Mike can’t host Hellfire tonight because his parents are having a party and Will and Lucas' parents won’t be home!” You heard your little brothers whining as you walked out of your bedroom, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

“I’m sorry dusty, but I have work tonight and I won’t be home until after midnight, maybe you boys will just have to cancel-“

“NO! Anything but that please! I promise to be responsible, take out the trash when you tell me to, and-“ His babbling went on, but when your eyes locked on to him, he stopped, and his eyes lit up.

“SHE CAN WATCH US!!! She’s old enough! Oh please please mom! I promise we’ll take good care of the house.” Your mom looked worried, but when she looked at you, she looked at the ground and sighed.

“I don’t want a single thing messy or broken by morning! And if your sister tells me you guys didn’t listen to her or were too loud, you’ll never have friends over while I’m gone again!” Dustin nodded and practically pushed your mom out the door, telling her to be safe at work and to have fun. You sighed, knowing you’d have to take care of a bunch of kids, nerdy ones at that.

“Did you really have to volunteer me? Now I have to watch you freaks instead of doing stuff that actually entertains me.”

“Well I don’t think drinking vodka until you can’t remember your name is something mom would approve of either way, so you’d have to watch me regardless. Besides, you can just stay in your room, Eddie can watch over us.”

“Oh, so is Eddie like your big brother now?” Dustin playfully punched your shoulder, prompting you to push him back.

Oh this was gonna be fantastic.

———

Around the time it was getting dark is when you heard the sound of people arriving. You trusted Dustin to be responsible and not light the house on fire, so you just stayed in your room reading some book you left on your bookshelf and playing ‘The Smiths’. You were at peace, hoping to keep it like that for a while.

You heard talking, shuffling, some small bangs here and there, but nothing to draw your attention. You were almost done with your book when you suddenly heard a loud scream, which made you jump into a panic state. All you cared about was Dustin, so you bursted out of your room. Only to see a group of kids surrounded a table covered in graph paper and weird figures, and some guy on the floor pretending to be dying.

“Uhh. What’s going on here…” You looked weirded out to say the least, why was he screaming so loud.

The dude didn’t stop though, his long hair flopping back and forth as he made gurgling noises and just overall strange sounds, you felt a tinge of embarrassment for him. But, in reality, you were the outsider, you were the weird one, everyone else seemed like they were having a good time, laughing along with the strange man, so you opted to just leave after he continued to “die”, and after the weird look your brother gave you. So much for trying to protect them…

Settling back into your room, you once again picked up the book and began to read, humming to the soft music, just low enough to hear the occasional laugh and bump from the group of kids. You sighed, looking at the clock, waiting for the time to go by quicker so you could fall asleep in peace, without being woken up by your mother about how irresponsible it would be to sleep while you were supposed to take care of your brother. The calm atmosphere was ruined by a knock at the door. You got up to open it, hopefully thinking it was Dustin telling you that everyone was leaving.

Instead, it was the weird guy, long shaggy hair, and a smile on his face.

“Um. Hello?” You greeted him, he seemed fixated on the room behind you.

“Woah, you like Joy Division? New order? The Clash! That’s surprising coming from a girl like you! I’m more of a metal guy myself, but these aren’t half bad…” He had pushed past you and began walking around your room, pointing at posters plastered against your wall.

“Girl like… Me?” You were slightly offended, making sure your face and tone of voice made that fact clear.

“No, look I didn’t- I meant it like- Uh. Let’s start over.” He whipped back to you and shook your hand.

“I’m Eddie Munson, President of Hellfire Club, and you are….” He began to shake your hand as you slowly said your name, very awkward…

“Sorry for the rude introduction back there, I just got really into the game. Did want to properly introduce myself to my best friend’s sister. How come I’ve never seen you before?”

“Oh, well I go to school in California. Haven’t been back to Indiana in a few years.”

“Aw, I get that. Well, it’s nice to meet you, gotta get back to the game. Hope to see you around!” He left, leaving you confused as you watched him join the game. What a strange man.

———-

Eddie didn’t have to hope for too long. He began to see you almost every day for the next week. He had decided Dustin’s place would be best for their next campaign, which they decided to do every night of the week since it was spring break, and they had nothing better to do. It was perfect for them, your mom was out until one in the morning, so they could be as loud as they wanted to. You didn’t feel like scolding a bunch of kids for screaming over fictional monsters.

But Eddie seemed oddly fixated on you. You didn’t want to seem like you were conceded, but he would stare at you the few times you left the room. He would step in the kitchen with you and just say he was getting water, but he took his sweet time grabbing a cup and staring at you while he drank. You could pass it off as him trying to get to know someone his age, instead of hanging out with a bunch of kids almost six years younger than him. But he looked at your lips more than your eyes, he always seemed to laugh at things you weren’t trying to sound funny. When you asked the group if they wanted pizza, he made sure to follow you in the kitchen while you called to order it.

“Do you think you could order a sausage pizza?” He made sure to put a lot of emphasis on the word sausage, and you swore you saw him lick his lips as you looked away. Yes, everything you said could just be seen as being nice, but with everyone else he seemed goofy and funny, but once he was alone with you, he seemed almost like the perverts you’d meet during frat parties.

Early in the day, you ran to the pharmacy to grab a few things. But you wish you had gone to the one just a few blocks away, cause Eddie freaking Munson was right in front of you, thankfully, not paying attention to you. If you only moved quicker, because the second you even thought about walking out, his eyes turned to look at you.

“Hey cutie!” You felt grossed out by the little nickname, but what was even grosser was what he was holding.

Condoms. Not just any, but the brand known to be for larger sizes. He also held some bottle of soda and a few bags of chips, but your eyes bore into the specific contraceptive.

“Hi Eddie. Sorry to bother you, I’m already about to check out-“

“Oh, I’ll check out with you!” Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head out of frustration, but you just smiled and walked to the register.

“Soooo, did Dustin tell you about the sleepover tonight?” Your eyes nearly blew out your socket.

“Sleepover? At… my house?” He gave you a huge nod, almost like a little kid.

“It’s just gonna be me, your brother, Mike and Lucas! The other parents weren’t ok with it sadly.” You wanted to run out of the store at that very second. You had to not only deal with boys for an evening, but now all night? You firstly wanted to punch Dustin for not telling you sooner and also wanting to punch the smiling man in front of you.

Even though your items were separate, the cashier gave you two a smirk. You were confused until you saw the condoms on the conveyor belt right next to your assorted items.

“Thank god you guys are using protection. Kids these days are so irresponsible….” You wanted to interrupt her and tell her this freak standing next to you was not your boyfriend, not even your friend! But Eddie laughed, and swung his arm around you. Oh god, embarrassment filled your entire body. You wanted to die right then and there. You can’t believe he just did that. You paid for your things as quickly as possible and walked out the store. You hated Eddie Munson.

“Hey! Wait up! I'm sorry!” He was a pretty fast runner, cause he caught up with you in record time.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want the cashier to feel awkward. I kinda freaked out too, don’t worry. I'm sorry, can I make it up to you?” You shook your head, you didn’t want whatever favor he’d grant you.

“It’s fine. I'm just embarrassed. You don’t need to do anything.” He had his arms on your shoulders now, and he got close, almost like he was gonna kiss you.

“Ya sure?” You nodded and he smiled, got into a more acceptable position and ruffled your hair. You began to walk in the other direction, hoping he would get the hint and leave you alone. Thankfully, he did.

————

The stares tonight were more intense than any this entire week. You were baking some cookies, you were bored of just reading and listening to music, so you used some baking skills to make the kids some treats. But the kitchen and the living room had a clear view of each other, so everytime your eyes went to glance at the group, you caught Eddie staring at you. It was creepy. He had a weird smile. You just thought he was excited for cookies, but you just chose to believe your lies. You felt sick knowing he wasn’t gonna leave by the end of the night as usual, no, he was gonna be sleeping in the house you were supposed to feel safe in.

You just wanted to be asleep as soon as possible, so you didn’t have to do anything with them, not like they ever asked you, but who knows.

“Cookies are done guys. They’re in the kitchen if you want it, I-I’m going to bed…” You don’t know why you sounded so sad and nervous, maybe it was the stress of being confined into a small town again, or just missing California.

“Whatttt, why so early?” Eddie chimed, hand on his chin like he was staring at you for a while.

“Just don’t feel good. But don’t let that keep you guys from being loud, I can barely hear you in my room. Have fun guys.” You lied, you could hear them being very loud, using music to drown out the sound, but you could put on earplugs if you needed to, you wanted these kids to have fun. You laid down on top of your bed and started to fall asleep, you were so tired from the stress of everything that you seemed to sleep almost instantly, letting your mind create shapes and colors as you drifted into dreamland.

———-

You felt something. You felt multiple things actually, a touch on your cheek, the sheets shifting, your neck being rubbed. You kept your eyes shut, it was probably a dumb prank from your brother and his friends, it had to be, who else would be touching you? You wanted to give no reaction, nothing that would indicate you were annoyed or upset about this. But, the touches wouldn’t stop. There was no boyish giggle after they touched you, no, you heard a soft moan as the strokes got lower, to the neckline of your shirt and one hand began to rub even lower. This wasn’t the work of some kids, it was clearly someone with disgusting intentions. You finally got the courage to open your eyes.

Eddie. You knew it was him the second you saw his messy hair. He wore a Metallica tee, loose and had a few holes around it, clearly worn. His rings weren’t on, and his hair seemed more a mess than usual, probably from laying down. Fear sorta ran through your body, you were very tired and had no energy, but you were still scared and disgusted.

“Oh, you’re awake.” He said as if you were supposed to be used to this, so nonchalantly. The way his hands moved around were skilled, like he knew where to touch to make you feel good. But you didn’t like it.

“You’re so pretty. I can’t stop looking at that cute face, you’re just so adorable. When Dustin first told me he had a sister, I thought you’d be some nerdy girl, some geek like him, but no, you’re this little sexy deviant. But if you were a nerd you’d still be hot. B-But, anyways, I really can’t stop staring at that body like. Fuck, you’re so pretty. Ok, what I’m asking is, will you be my Girlfriend?” He was nervously looking at you, the words spilling from his mouth like word vomit, voice even cracking at certain points. You just stared at him, he couldn’t be serious, right? He couldn’t actually think that you would say yes, after he woke you up by touching you in your own bed.

“W-what? No, I can’t. You’re, you’re… Look. Maybe you’d be sweet, but I'm just not into you like you are with me. Also, this isn’t something guys should do. You shouldn’t creep on someone and wake them up in their own bed. Sorry Eddie, can you please leave now?” You felt nervous saying all that, yes, he did do some creepy stuff, but you didn’t want to hurt his feelings too much. He just stared at you. No emotion on his face at all, eyes sinking into yours, when suddenly it was replaced with a smile. Like he just got a joke.

“Ohhh, I get it! You’re playing hard to get! You want me to keep trying. So clever. Come here.” You shook your head, about to tell him he was wrong, that all you wanted was to sleep, but he slammed his lips against yours. His lips moved while you tried to purse your lips as tight as possible, sadly, you didn’t move quick enough, because his tongue slipped into between your now moist lips. You felt sick, you wanted to gag and scream and tell him to leave you alone, but you froze up.

His hands moved around your body, sliding around your waist as he reached to squeeze your behind, which warranted a twitch from you, and more squirming. He just wouldn’t get the hint, the longer his tongue moved in your mouth the more you began to blame yourself. Did you lead him on? Did you say things to seduce him? Were you in the wrong? But you just kept letting the thoughts get to you as you lay still, his hands never leaving your skin, the warmth suddenly felt like burning heat. His mouth began to move away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you, barely visible in the dark room, illuminated by the moonlight.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t think a single girl has ever compared to you. You’re gorgeous.” His eyes stared into yours, romantic words spilling off his lips, but it was in one ear and out the other. The love he radiated maybe would have wowed you years ago, but after dealing with frat creeps, you knew the lengths men would go through to get into your pants. But strangely, the more he spoke, the more genuine he seemed to become. Letting himself stutter and trip on his words as he confessed his love to you. He probably didn’t know more than your favorite color, how could he possibly love you?

He gave you a kiss on your forehead before shifting your figure on to your back, his legs straddling around you. He seemed to be only wearing his boxers, because he pulled out his cock in record time. You winced, knowing you only wore panties and a tee from your college, too lazy to put on proper pajamas. You were setting yourself up, you had let yourself be vulnerable knowing he was in your home, it’s like inviting the prey to kill you.

“Fuck. I bet you did this for me. Waiting for me to get in here. Look at you, all exposed to me…” His middle finger began to pull down your panties, cold air hitting your pussy, making you jump.

“I can’t wait any longer, I’m sorry princess. When we do it at my house I promise to do more.” He swiped off your panties and began rubbing his tip all around your entrance up to the clit. It was a strange feeling, you didn’t like it, despite getting pleasure out of it. You didn’t have any more time to analyze the feeling before he began to push into you, making you whip your head up. Before you could even make any type of noise he slapped his palm against your mouth, shushing you while he pushed in further. Your cries were muffled by his hand, but you hoped someone could hear you. The pain felt unbearable. It stung, burned, ached, everything in the book, nothing but stupid pain.

“I know, I know, baby. I know it hurts. It’s okay, it’s gonna feel good soon, just let me thrust, alright?” You shook your head, you knew the pain would just amplify, and you were correct. After the incredible pain of bottoming out into you, he began to move his hips, dry cock filling your pussy. You squirmed, eyes closed as you screamed into his hand. He kept lowly groaning as he did so, and his pace quickened.

Despite you shaking your head, the pain began to slowly fade away as you could wear wet noises, sloshy and strange, but you knew it was the body's natural response to this type of infliction. You cursed the female form, but you began to feel pleasure take effect. You wanted to stop yourself, you wanted to keep screaming, but you began to moan, it felt incredibly good, you had forgotten the pain he had inflicted on you, almost like you were in a trance.

“Aw fuck, you like that baby? I b-bet you do, your pussy is so fuckin’ tight right now, it’s squeezing me so hard. You’re gonna make me c-cum baby. Jesus…” He didn’t stop his speedy pace, he let himself moan a little louder, but his hand kept pressing against you rather harshly. You couldn’t take it, it was so overwhelmingly amazing, you kept your eyes shut, as every glance at him made you remember this wasn’t to be enjoyed, but the pleasure you felt couldn’t be ignored, you could do nothing but allow it to happen, too weak to fight back.

“Oh god my love, I’m gonna cum. I'm gonna cum inside you. Y-yeah. M-make you a mommy. Y-you’re gonna be all pregnant with my kid. It’s gonna have such a pretty mom. I love you, oh my god I love you.” He tried to stay quiet, but he got rather loud, but your eyes opened immediately at the word “pregnant.” Oh my god, he wasn’t actually going to cum in you was he? You remembered he had bought condoms at the store, you had assumed he slipped one off while you were trying to make yourself disappear. He was just saying that, maybe he’s trying to scare you. Please be a prank, please just be him trying to make you intimidated, please please please.

And with a muffled moan into his free hand, he slammed his hips into you and let out his cum in your pussy. You felt the warmth flow within you, you could feel it running, a feeling like no other. You just stared at the ceiling, you couldn’t believe it. Your little brothers best friend just came inside you, possibly getting you pregnant of a baby you never wanted, from sex you never asked for. The numbness took over, you hadn’t noticed he’d taken out his cock from inside you and had pulled up his boxers and smiled at you, he laid by your side.

“You know…” He stroked your cheek, making you look at him, face as emotionless as possible.

“I wonder how cute our babies would look…”

—————

Your life has changed since that night, that disgusting, horrible night. That night became one of many.

After he had taken you by force, he had taken it upon himself to tell your mom you two had begun to go out. She was shocked, saying how she’d never expect you to date someone from Hawkins, always expecting you to date some surfer from California. Yep, you never thought the same.

You felt as if Eddie had told everyone in town you two were a couple, because in two days, old high school acquaintances had come over to say hi and say how good it is to meet you, and how they never thought you’d be dating the current school freak. You never thought you would either.

Eddie had also told your mom that you were pregnant, which you had no idea if you were. She was shocked, but not upset, but told you she wouldn’t let you return to California, that you would spend your days in Hawkins, you needed to stay with the father. She was the one paying for your tuition, so your hands were tied. Eddie also had his own threats involving a knife or two. You felt sick, your dreams of living anywhere else except Hawkins, Indiana were crushed by some guitar freak who now was the father of your children.

Everyday, Eddie kissed your stomach and then you, cracking a few jokes as he laid with you. All you did was stare at the wall and wondered how different life would be if you never came back. If you stayed in california. If you cut off contact from your mom, if you had only come for a weekend. Anything. But you just looked at Eddie talking and explaining something about DnD. You missed California more than anything, you missed the bright sun that kissed your skin when you left the house, you couldn’t stand the gloomy weather that constantly cursed Hawkins. You missed the girlfriend’s you made, sure, they weren’t the best of friends, but so much better than the so-called-friends you had here in Hawkins. You missed being free most of all. Eddie insisted you stay inside all day, not letting you get a job or go anywhere without him. You stayed in his trailer all day while he attended school, his after school activities and sold his drugs. You could do nothing but stare at the wall and wish you had never come back.

Your stomach grew, there wasn’t any way you weren't pregnant, he constantly fucked you and came in you each time. Despite the treatment Eddie gave you, you stroked your belly while he was gone, maybe it was instinct or hormones, but you loved the baby growing inside you. Maybe you could learn to love the man who helped you make it.

#dark eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things season four #dark! eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #tw noncon #tw pregnancy #tw babytrapping #stranger things x reader #eddie munson smut

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inlocusmads · 1 month

Text

"mama, didn't mean to make you cry" ~ trystan thorne, viktoria thorne

Before Trystan leaves for a second time, (this time willingly), he must have a difficult conversation with his mother. (Crimes of passion)

wc: 3k, no warnings but mentions of toxic parental relationships involved.

A/N: Yes the title references Bohemian Rhapsody, which I hc is Trystan's favourite song that resonates with him the most. Well. Now you know why. Written for @choicesmonthlychallenge - prompt: "cyclamen flower" which symbolises resignation.

Banner art: In the Garden by Denis Sarazhin

Trystan stepped into the large balcony, tucking his phone in with an email for the next day's charter flight back to New York. His mother had a flute of wine - a glass made of the most verdant material possible, studded with dripping diamonds and golds. She took a small sip in between her nightly watch - fixated on the spot in the sky where the sun had set.

“I am leaving tomorrow.” he spoke in Drakovian.

His mother didn't respond. She took another careful sip, but her silence beckoned Trystan to join her.

“Your father is very disappointed.” Mother said, after a break of silence. “But - he seems to understand. He thinks your American education has made you more jaded than usual, but he hopes when the time comes you will understand.”

“Is that what Father said or is it what you want him to say?” Trystan asked.

“He has been quiet but do not take his silence as acceptance.”

“Are you implying that I might change my mind one day?” Trystan asked.

“One hopes that their children will also yearn and fight for the throne as they have, in the past. But times are changing. The future is, as embarrassing as it is for me to say, uncertain and your sister cannot bear the precarious throne all alone. One day she will need her family and I hope she can count on you to not run away from your responsibilities.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Majka.”

“Don't give me promises you cannot keep, Trystan.”

Another sip of wine. Mother looked concerned. She had stress marks all over her eyes, from the days of sleep deprivation. She refused to show any sign of vulnerability, fearing her son might capture onto that to draw it out even more, like an expert weaver. Viktoria Thorne could hold up the skies and pick out the lies simultaneously, but she would break at the mere mention of her son showing her empathy and kindness. She didn't allow herself to crumble at his feet, to beg him to stay and let them move on as a family. There was no family to begin with.

“I won't. I'll come back home one day.”

“How is New York?”

“Well.”

“I hear you have new companions.”

“They are fine.”

“Refreshing I see, to engage with regular people. You must be tired of politics.”

“I think I am more honest with them.”

“Than your own family?” Mother expressed prudent surprise.

“I believe so, yes.”

“You must have a tarnished opinion of us.” Viktoria took generous sips of her wine. “Had you shared it with us earlier, it would have stopped all of this.”

“How could it have stopped all of this?” Trystan raised his voice immediately. “People still died, Mother. People -- good people were -- I cannot believe you would insinuate that my doubt is so large that it could have single-handedly predicted what Vasili would have done. Am I not allowed to have faith in us?”

“That is where the problem started, Trystan. You cannot pick and choose what you like and avoid the others. Had you expressed your doubts more clearly, we would have been able to forestall all these terrible happenings. Your jaded faith mixed in with your disloyalty birthed this tightrope dance we are all caught up in. And now -- it is easier to leave it behind, is it not?”

“Mother, if you think this is my fault, you are wrong.”

“Eight years in America rid you of all your responsibility. God knows if you will ever come home.” Viktoria sighed deeply, clutching the railing of the balcony to compose herself.

“Do not use my loyalty as a weapon.”

“Nobody is perfect, Trystan. It is you who sees everything in black and white. Perhaps if you had attempted to understand Juliana better - outside of your pre-marital squabbling, maybe we would have gotten somewhere. But, now isn't the time to look back.”

“Are you saying this is all my fault?”

“No. I didn't say you were an accomplice, did I? It is just that--” Viktoria took a deep breath, “It is always difficult with you, Trystan. Difficult and different. Perhaps it was me. You were my first, you see? A favorite. Unfortunately, it didn't work out so well. Might as well make some progress with the others had I given them a chance. Now nobody will talk to me. It is sad.”

“Lydea does.”

“She doesn't. A right-hand man, they all say.” Viktoria shrugged. “You have been gone for far too long and yet, I found it in my heart to favor you anyway.”

“The sham trial you organized did not do it justice.”

“It was a way to bring you home. I had no intention of hearing anything from the Georgescu family. It was merely a litmus test to see how many people favor you as I do. Clearly, not many. Jean Luc Everheart was a plant. A seed in a bigger operation and his nonchalance to making a strong case for you only heightened my theory. And yet -- you had to come home with so much faith in your heart while using the same tongue to condemn your family in front of the Americans.”

“They were my friends, Mother.” Trystan snapped. “And they had little to no larger role in the kind of faith I have in my heart as you so falsely imply.”

“Right, which is why you are in such a hurry to go home tomorrow?”

“New York.” He corrected her.

“Home. To you. Not a problem. I am not going to question your decisions.”

A pause.

“Detectives are seldom trustworthy creatures.” Viktoria began. “Let me explain. Someone with no nuanced understanding of a place, assuming a position of some sort of an advisor is -- appalling. I have nothing but her heritage to blame. The American dream cultivates so much hope and faith and this righteousness that your word cannot be challenged. Naturally, such confidence will make you fall prey to any school of thought. Your father was one such sentient being, with an education from Harvard. Prestigious school. I learned to never see Maksim the same way twice.”

“Are you saying that somehow Nora influenced my decision?”

“Doesn't a cat run to a patch of catnip? A moth to a flame?”

“A mother to a lost childhood?” Trystan added.

“You don't get to speak now.”

“Strange. I thought you favored me.”

“You’re more different than the one I raised.” Viktoria shook her head. “It was difficult, Trystan. Those years of your absence. I knew you could not be involved in Juliana's death. You couldn't have. The Trystan I raised would never allow for this to happen, no matter how careless and charismatic he might appear. It is saddening but what else can I do, but wait? What else could I have done?”

“I haven't changed, Majka.”

“So you tell me, Trystan.” Mother sighed, exasperated. “Those eight years -- I will never be able to scrub them away from history. Your father was of no help. The family was torn apart without your presence. I thought when I first had you, you would be a unifying idea. A goal. Now when I think about that time, it makes me want to scold myself for being so naive. They say it's important to look towards the future, but I don't know how far I can run without looking back once or twice. I cannot run alone.”

“I am here, Mama.” Trystan placed a hand on his mother's palm. “You know I am not going anywhere. I might have made a -- difficult choice, but I promise this isn't a withdrawal from the family. It is what I consider best for me. Best for us. Lydea had eight years - just eight to make Drakovia’s progress chart a linear course upwards. Imagine the time she will have now.”

Viktoria ignored his words of hope. Trystan's encouragement fell on deaf ears.

“You will always be my favorite, Trystan. I hope you know that.”

“I'm still leaving Mama.” Trystan swallowed with great difficulty, almost struck with disbelief that it was his words that supplied a hard truth and he could no longer take it back.

He could no longer afford to have regrets about his abdication, no longer could afford to be a human being who could look at it without the black and white filter. Who couldn't afford to pledge loyalty to his roots whilst critiquing the empire it had cultivated. Every word in Drakovian that he enunciated from the depths of his throat felt like his first foray into the English language upon setting foot in North American soil eight years ago.

“One day I might tell you about the plans I had for the country -- our family, had you expressed an interest in us. But - it is too soon now. I must let you grieve.”

“You don't have to be so understanding, Mama.” Trystan replied. “I don't think any of us are expecting you to offer sympathy, when we should be doing that to you.”

“No. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. My pessimism is not an excuse for you to take a somber feeling of disapproval back home. Your father wants the best for your future, regardless of where he sees you practicing it. I would know better than to defy his wishes.”

“I don't think Father has a plan.” Trystan confided.

“Hm?”

“Might be speculation, but -- I doubt he has a plan for the future. Something to leave us with. I could be wrong-”

“Yes. Yes you are.” Viktoria retorted immediately, squashing the lingering seed of doubt that her son might otherwise take back, only to cultivate it in the Land of Further Questions. “You are not the heir anymore. I assure you, the country is in safe hands. You said so yourself. Must you concern yourself with these matters now, given you have a cushy life waiting back at home?”

“No, I have a responsibility -- I-- You told me to!”

“I'm disappointed, Trystan. I thought you would have grasped your place in this now. It's remarkable how your previous choices have clouded you in this sea of comfort. It's complicated to answer your questions and downright insulting when you think this is how you show concern. To speculate wildly about your family and carry all the wrong assumptions home and make a fool out of everyone who has carried this country as their responsibility!”

“I don't think you can tell the difference between the country and our family anymore.”

“Strange. I think you ought to review your definitions. It would give your stuffy mind more questions to occupy with than questioning the legitimacy of our legislature.” Viktoria snarled. “Perhaps then, would you have left earlier?”

“My departure has nothing to do with the current political climate of Drakovia.”

“Of course. Perhaps you are leaving for love, then. What a privilege you have, my son. To love. To forge a new path for yourself, selfishly while everyone else burns the midnight oil. What a privilege it is to simply walk away, in the name of love out of all things.”

“If you want me to stay, I can stay.” Trystan grabbed his phone.

“You came to talk to me. You approached me with the question.” Viktoria shrugged, setting her empty glass down. She gingerly removed her rings, placing them on a tall table, preparing to go to sleep. “And yet you question your father's insecurity in his decision-making. Trystan, you have turned into a fool. You know only I am capable of telling you this, because I want the best for you. Give me a reason to favor you.”

“You're my mother. Not God.”

“Perhaps you need to review that as well.” Viktoria sat down on the plush velvet couch, watching her son obscuring the view of the horizon. “I am merely admiring the benefits you have. Is “selfish” not an appropriate word, these days? Can't I offer an opinion without being accused of playing God?”

“I'm always going to disappoint you, aren't I?”

“You always disappoint the ones you love.”

Viktoria seldom was a woman of generalization. Trystan knew it was a recurrent problem with him and his mother had just supplied him with a word of caution. Perhaps he should count his days before he could disappoint more people. Sleep with an eye open as she did. If it was so easy to let his mother down - the woman who raised him, who watched him fail at everything his hands could touch, who saw and did nothing yet hope and hope in utter silence, with mere faith in her heart that contributed to the rot the family could never move past from - then how long would it take for him to carry on and on, before he could disappoint Nora?

“You think too much.” Viktoria observed. “At least, perhaps when you come back one day - from your little pilgrimage to the West, you might realize things aren't so black and white -- now don't be so angry, dear. You are only proving my point even further.”

“Which is?”

“You know you can only show your anger here. To me. Can you do the same back at home? Can you offer your frustrations and be considered an honest voice?”

Trystan thought for a while. “Yes.”

“You're lying to yourself.”

Viktoria stood up, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. “There is a place for you here. Whatever you say or do, someone will clean it up. That's what parents do. A parent. A somebody. It is unlikely you will ever want children of your own. Then again, I suppose your dog is easier to take care of.”

Trystan's heart leaped to his throat. He freed himself of his mother’s hand, dismay etched on his face.

“I'm leaving. If you have some decency left in you, you would want to say goodbye at the airport.”

“But I don't, according to you. I am part of something unpleasant you would most likely want to forget.” Viktoria said, bluntly. “It must be easier for your Nora. A traumatic past is easier to forget than a model, golden upbringing that derailed a few many years ago.”

“Don't bring Nora into this.”

“I don't want you to lie to yourself, Trystan. It means I have failed as a mother. Everything I did, I did for you.”

Viktoria picked up one of the rings she'd carefully assembled on her table. The gemstone was a deep rich color - that of the cyclamen flower. Many had misconstrued it with that of a pale rose, but it was Mother who had sat Trystan down to tell him the differences one carefree afternoon. The cuts were deep, intricate, precious - the simplicity contained within the band, rather than the additional carvings royal pieces of jewelry were usually commissioned to.

“Keep this as a token of memorabilia. I would like for you to hold onto this and let it be there with you when you experience a change of heart.”

“You say that with a concerning amount of certainty.”

“It would be cruel of me to expect you will simply let me die alone.” Viktoria chuckled. “Go. Tell me when your plane lands tomorrow.”

She dropped the ring into his palm.

“And close the door when you leave.” she added. “Goodbye. I hope this satisfies your need for a send-off.”

“Thank you.”

As Trystan carried the ring downstairs to the inner sanctum of the palace, he searched for a sign of his friends. Nora would have been given a different room for accomodation or perhaps, had already left for New York on a different plane. He sent off a quick message to one of the palace staff to ensure the luggage was on board for tomorrow and one to Nora - hopefully she was still awake. He crossed the threshold of the court, the Drakovian throne sitting prominently in the middle - clean and polished in its entirety.

The throne drew him in. He felt the plush velvet cushion, the gold and silver - the seat that his father, his great grandfather and his many ancestors had once sat on before the throne was permanently retired; given a symbolic position as the permanent cycle of ascension. The throne represented a martyr, placed upon a land to pay homage to the ones that died for the land to prosper. Refusing it would be criminal. Refusing it would fracture him with a wound enough to have the damning curse of all of his ancestors on him. Refusing it as a result of a series of sinful acts, despite his indirect involvement would be an insult. Then again, refusing it in its entirety erased him from the country's history. Poets would stop writing in his name. His gravestone that his family had selected long before his generation would lose all meaning, thereby scrubbing him entirely of his existence.

Trystan Thorne would no longer exist the moment he got on the plane. His Mother was right. He would be nothing without the Family. His window for a second chance had long been shut off and now the space he had once occupied - the bedrooms with their drawings embedded into the wallpapers, the kitchens echoing the loud sounds of a prince who had merely wanted to help, a court with a podium; the acoustics a reminder of the most powerful speeches from the lungs of a child. All would be lost. And for what? For hope? For a new path? For love?

Viktoria was correct to question it.

And yet Trystan didn't have an answer except the angry drawings in the bedrooms that reflected a past he'd wished to bury within the walls. Except the kitchens and their clutter, the fear of expressing discontentment knowing that he was edging closer to the hot stove with every passing question. Except the lungs of a child that had once provided a country with eclectic hope was also the first to disagree with it; to look back at the words and despise it for what it had become.

Trystan placed his mother's ring on the seat of the throne. I refuse, I refuse, I refuse.

___

A/N: this is my attempt to make some reasoning out of why Viktoria was the dicey character she was, because she was I guess, a lot more involved in Book 2 as a parent figure to Trystan? There was a lot more there. I just wish canon did something about it and put these things to rest but eh, should know it by now PB actively kills sequels.

Also yes I've been working on this for a WHILE now lmao. This was a concept in my head for a long time and it didn't see anything past the outline. Eventually I figured out how to knit in the symbolism and I don't know if you've noticed the subtle switch in how Viktoria is addressed. In the moments she offers genuine concern - or Trystan thinks she is, she's highlighted as a Mother. Where she supremely feels like a mother, she's addressed as "Mama" or "Majka" and in the moments she's well, not being a good parent, she's plain old Viktoria. I love adding little bits of symbolism in my writing! If you caught that, here's a cookie 🍪

I'm so SO glad this is out because this is just the biggest fic I had problems writing. Finally I can retire the angst train and move onto some other pursuits lmaoooo.

Thank you for reading if you've reached this far. I'm eternally grateful for you guys, because I doubt I'd have kept this interest far if not for the encouragement. Life has been pretty sucky lately and I hope some frequent writing might rectify that, take my mind off things and I really really appreciate you guys taking time off of your busy lives to give this a read. I'm super sorry if I haven't been responding to your comments - once again, I'm trying to cut back on screentime a little, but I promise I definitely will get to your lovely comments. I still eat them up tho lmao.

You can catch me going through old comments and going "holy shit people liked this stuff??" So thank you SO SO MUCH even if you're a casual reader or a reblogger or someone who's just yknow, in it for the ride. It means literally the ABSOLUTE WORLD to wake up to encouraging, thoughtful comments that makes me want to jump off the walls.

Tagging:

Thank you so much.

Perma: @stars-are-within-me @tessa-liam @thosehallowedhalls @quixoticdreamer16

Crimes only: @jerzwriter @ao719 @peonierose @cassie-thorne @moominofthevalley @trappedinfanfiction

#trystan thorne #crimes of passion fics #viktoria thorne #w:inlocusmads #crimes of passion #choices march challenge

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