#you bet he gold dia about it

[rc--chan]

Dexholders Clothes Stealing Headcanons

Kanto: 

Green just doesn't own clothes anymore. Blue, Yellow and Red just steal all of them. Yellow actually brings them back, because she's nice unlike the other 2 heathens. His purple shirt? Nope that's Red's now. His black aviator jacket? Yellow was cold so she borrowed it for the winter. His lab coat? Blue need it for a scam and she ain't bringing it back. Sweatpants, black t-shirt? His purple cargo pants? Gone! Because he's the tallest and his clothes are just too damn comfy.

Johto:

All three of them just share clothes at this point. Gold will search for his favourite hoodie only to remember Crystal took it. Silver would meet with Blue and she would compliment his white jacket, except it's not his, it's Crystal's. Crystal would just do laundry and find like, Gold's shorts and Silver's jacket. They also have a schedule for who gets Gold's hoodie because the damn thing is just so soft.

Hoenn:

I don't think they share any clothes. They have widely different styles that wouldn't work on the others. Maybe Emerald would occasionally steal like, Ruby's ribbons that he uses in contests to tie his hair or something. But mostly no clothes thieves here.

Sinnoh:

Platina steals all of the sweaters and jackets, definitely. She would go meet with Cynthia or Prof. Rowan and she's wearing Dia's jacket. One time she went to one of Dia and Pearl's gigs, and after the show when she went to see them backstage, she's wearing Pearl's sweater and Pearl goes ”Wait that's mine!” They don't mind of course. Also Dia steals all of her fancy hats so they're even.

Unova:

White steals everyone's clothes, but she does it without even realizing which is way funnier. She just goes to visit Whi-two and N and when she's back home she realizes she's wearing Whi-two's shoes and N's hat. And she's like. How did that happen? She's meeting with Elesa in Virbank and she's wearing like, Black's jacket and pants, looking like she's in cosplay, and Elesa would point it out and White looks at herself and goes ”Huh. I guess I am wearing Black's clothes again...” Lack-two would just randomly text her ”I am putting you under arrest.” And White would freak out and ask why, what did she do? And Lack-two just texts her ”I couldn't find my favourite shorts again and you appeared in an interview wearing them yesterday.” Poor girl has no idea how this keeps happening.

Kalos:

X steals everything. Like legit no clothes are safe from this man. If someone were to look through his wardrobe they'd find like Y's sweaters, Tierno's t-shirts, Shauna's shirts and Trevor's pants. He has like, multiple clothes he stole from his friends. And he's not even trying to hide it. Y would somehow convince him to leave the house and he shows up in Tierno's black Vanillite t-shirt, one of Shauna's jackets, Trevor's sweatpants, Y's fluffy socks and Green's boots that he somehow got a hold of.

Alola:

They trade hats and shirts. Nothing else just hats and shirts. And it's a mutual agreement too. Moon goes to Sun like ”I'll trade you my red hat for your blue tank top.” and Sun goes ”I'll throw in my blue and white t-shirt too if you give me your yellow floral shirt.” ”Deal.” People point it out all the time but they just say ”I got it in a fair trade, therefore it is mine now.”

Galar:

Their system is like a combination between the Alola duo and the Johtrio. Because they share clothes, but sometimes Sou would refuse to give Schilly her sweater back so she has to bargain. ”I'll give you one of my sweatshirts if you give me my sweater back.” ”Not soft enough.” ”How about my fuzzy parka? That's soft.” ”Yeah but its too hot for that.” Schilly has to bet like half her wardrobe to get that 1 sweater back. Marvin also steals their socks.

#I finally read the sword and shield manga so now I can headcanon about it #i love schilly #she's Black on steroids #also poor Green his clothes aren't safe even from his juniors #Gold and Emerald def also stole something from him once just to annoy him #Pokespe #pokemon #pocket monsters #Pokemon Adventures #pokemon manga #Trainer Red #trainer blue #trainer green #trainer yellow #Trainer Gold #Trainer Silver #trainer crystal #trainer ruby #Trainer Sapphire #trainer emerald #trainer platinum #Trainer Diamond #Trainer Pearl #trainer white #Trainer Black #trainer lack-two #trainer whi-two #trainer y #trainer x #trainer sun

[live-laugh-loverpool]

Christmas in Dubai: Dia De Las Velitas

The very late fic for Dia de las Velitas.

Tags: @millythegoat, @alissonbecksfan234, @moomin279

Luis Diaz had never spent Dia de las Velitas away from his family before. Even during the pandemic, he’d always found a way to fly out to his family or vice versa. So now that he was in Dubai for a training camp, there was no way that his family could come there.

He’d be alone for Dia de las Velitas. Just the thought alone was enough to instantly dampen his mood.

*

Joel Matip had enjoyed the mid-season holiday, but now he was more than happy to be back with his teammates. With all the time they spent together on a yearly basis, the Liverpudlians felt more like his brothers than teammates.

Just a couple of weeks, and they’d be all together again, after the others came back from the World Cup—preferably with a medal or two in tow. Just the thought alone was enough to instantly brighten his mood. It made him want to sing.

“Ooh, baby, do you know how I roll? Ooh baby, it’s Adventurer Joel!”

Matip strutted into the cafeteria, grinning at the smell of lunch. He found Lijnders at the pool table and pulled him into a little dance, startling the Dutchman. “Putting balls in the opponents’ goal, talk about it, Adventurer Joel! Bonking Hendo—”

“You seem happy, Joel.” Lijnders, slightly pale, gripped the pool table for balance. But he was smiling all the while. “Warm weather’s doing good things for you, huh?”

“Yep!” Matip gestured towards the cafeteria, full of chattering teammates. “Almost the whole gang’s back together! Harvey and Fabio are together, Robbo and Calvin are here, the boss is back—”

Out of nowhere, Klopp appeared, coffee mug in hand. “That I am! I was never going anywhere, Joel. But Lucho seems like he’d be anywhere but here.”

Matip scanned the cafeteria for Diaz. There he was, listlessly stirring his coffee and paying no attention to anything going on. “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll go check on Lucho.”

Klopp nodded in approval. “Good luck, Joel.”

Matip left his managers at the pool table and headed for Diaz’s table. As Matip slid into the seat in front of Diaz, he dug in his pocket for his secret weapon.

Toffees.

“Lucho! What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Neuron signals.”

Okay, so this is going to be harder than I thought. Matip grinned, leaning close to the Colombian and pushing a toffee close to his plate. “Toffee?”

Diaz took the toffee, a small smile crossing his previously lifeless expression. “Gracias, Joel. It’s Dia de las Velitas.”

“Oh, right!” Matip remembered Diaz mentioning the holiday to him earlier that year. “Is it today?”

“Yes, it’s today. Every year I would go visit my family, or they would visit me. And we would celebrate together.” Diaz sighed, continuing to stir his surely-cold coffee. “But this year, I’m celebrating alone.”

“So you’re homesick.”

“Yes.”

“You know Lucho, if it’s okay with you…” Matip tried to think of something that could cheer up his friend. He hated seeing him like this. “I could celebrate Dia de las Velitas with you today.”

“Oh, would you?!” Every inch of Diaz, even his hair, seemed to perk up. He grabbed Matip by the shoulders, shaking him hard. “I would love that, Joel!”

“Okay, it’s settled.” Matip chuckled at Diaz’s enthusiasm. “But I can’t promise you I’ll do everything right. You can bet your socks that in Cameroon, we don’t celebrate Dia de las Velitas.”

“I couldn’t care less that you’ve never celebrated before.” Diaz pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. “I just want to begin now!”

*

“Making paper lanterns is an important part of Dia de las Velitas.” Diaz joyfully snipped away at the ends of his paper, setting aside his seventh lantern. “How’s yours coming along, Joel?”

Matip grinned sheepishly, trying to hide behind his botched lantern. “I don’t know…but would you be interested in a paper doily?”

Diaz shook his head, sprinkling a lantern with gold glitter.

*

“How are the buñuelos coming, Joel?” Diaz called from the stove. “I’m almost done frying the eight batch, so you’d better get a move on with the powdered sugar.”

He peeked around the corner to find Matip, hand dug deep in the huge basket of buñuelos. “Joel!”

“What?” Matip gulped down the fried dough, flashing a thumbs-up with his other hand. “Buñuelos are tasty.”

*

“A crucial part of Dia de las Velitas is setting up a Nativity scene!” Diaz announced, carrying a large, shallow cardboard box to the table. “We must set up a manger with Joseph and the angels, as well as the animals, shepherds and wise men. You get to do the most important part.”

Matip studied the equipment with new intrigue. “What’s that?”

“The Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus, of course!” Diaz handed the plastic figurines to Matip, affectionately patting him on the head. “Because you sacrificed your perfectly good day to hang out with me, you get the honor of setting them up.”

Matip’s eyes sparkled, and so did his teeth. “It’s an honor to spend the day with you, Lucho.”

Diaz smiled and got to work. He scattered some fake grass on the bottom of the glue-covered box, then got to work assembling the tiny manger. He was almost done, when he heard a crash from the other side of the table. Matip was in the middle of a giant pile of Barbie dolls.

“Joel Matip!” Diaz groaned, gently picking up the real Virgin Mary figurine. “What are you doing?”

Matip shrugged, picking up a black Barbie doll with huge, poofy hair. “Virgin Mary could definitely stand to get more Afrocentric.”

*

“Alright, we’ve done everything except one last thing: light the candle!” Matip held the box of matches along with a fire lighter, bouncing up and down. “Can I do it? Please, please, please?!”

“Wait, Joel!” Diaz pulled the candle away from Matip, setting it to the side. “Remember what we promised each other in April? When we made this candle together?”

“Oh, right.” Matip picked up the candle, stroking the multicolored wax. “You’ll have to lead the blessings, though, because I don’t know a single word of Spanish.”

Diaz chuckled, reaching for the candle as well. Wrapping his hands around the candle, he closed his eyes before reciting the blessing.

“Nuestro padre en el cielo. Este 7 de diciembre celebramos la Inmaculada Concepción de la Santísima Virgen María, y anticipamos la venida de Jesucristo nuestro Salvador. Gracias por la oportunidad de celebrar este día con nuestros seres queridos.”

“Wow, I have no idea what that means. But it sounds deep.” Matip gazed at the candle they held together, then looked up to the stars. “Who wrote the blessing?”

“My mother came up with it and taught it to me and my brother. It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Diaz held up a match and the matchbox. “Let’s make our wishes before we’re out here all evening. Silently, in our head.”

Quickly lighting the candle, they closed their eyes, each silently wishing. The candle burned bright in the windowsill, as if it were one of the stars itself.

Notes:

Translation of Diaz's blessing: Our Father in heaven. On this December the 7th, we celebrate the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and we anticipate the coming of Jesus Christ our Savior. Thank you for the chance to celebrate this day with our loved ones.

I know Dia de las Velitas (Day of the Little Candles) is chiefly a Catholic tradition. I have no idea of what prayers are said over the candles, so feel free to DM me if I got anything wrong.

#luis diaz #lucho #joel matip #pep lijnders #jurgen klopp #liverpool men #liverpool fc #liverpool #lfc #lfc players #football imagine #football fanfic #football #football blurb #soccer fanfiction by lynn #soccer fanfiction #soccer

[etherluci]

lucifer was watching.

so when you approached him with your newly acquired book, you were baffled with his question. “so how did scaring the kid go?” he asked with a tired sigh, the avatar of pride hoped for a pretty calm trip to the human realm but he should have known that calm and normal isn’t part of MC’s vocabulary.

“huh? what do you mean?” you timidly scratched the back of your neck, feeling your face burn up. trying your best to avoid the topic, your hands instinctively held your nose when you felt it tingle— knowing too well that another nosebleed would occur, and when you felt it drip. you heard lucifer sigh.

“that. did you really think i didn’t see you scare a kid away with your bleeding nose while you smile with a crazed look and say.. hail satan?”

#good morning i dreamt of this #the kid ran off crying. and it was because of you #lucifer would actually take pride in what you did #you bet he gold dia about it #obey me headcannons #obey me x reader #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer fluff

[gloryofluv]

Outfoxed Chapter 6

I love Dia sooooooo much! A nice insight chappy!

Previous Chapter

This felt weird. No, not just run-of-the-mill Devildom weird. This was flat out of the most unusual misconceptions invented by humans; knowledge takes time. Lies. Rena was sitting on the floor across from Diavolo after he just explained everything. In a split second.

He pressed his thumb to her forehead, and it downloaded instantly. She was woozy from the whole experience, and he held her still with his hands on her shoulders. ‘Welcome to being a demon, Rena! Now, how about I give you all of our rules in one split second!’

She felt her stomach jerk in defiance and turned only to have Barbatos offer her a small trash bin. Rena voided her stomach and realized this was exactly why they hadn’t offered her food yet. It was so much to take in all at once.

Once her dry-heaving subsided, a towel and teacup awaited her. “That’s one way to do it,” she huffed while wiping her mouth.

“You’re quite fortunate,” Lucifer hummed. “When Lord Diavolo had done the same with Asmodeus, he had fainted.”

She set the towel down and sipped her tea with a smile. “I wish I would have been there for that.”

“Now the floor makes sense, right? See, I learn from my mistakes,” Diavolo chuckled and reached out, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

She laughed and nodded. “Yes, the floor did come in handy.”

“So, do you have any questions? Concerns? Issues?” Diavolo asked.

Rena blinked as her eyebrows launched toward her hairline. “Am I allowed?”

“Yes, you are,” Diavolo rocked his head.

She scowled and swallowed. Rena wanted to drop her eye contact with him. It made her nervous and squirm, but he wasn’t allowing it. Everything about his touch demanded her to look at him. “So, because I cannot pledge fealty due to the delicacy of my situation, you require me to make a promise?”

Diavolo slid closer and scowled in the slightest. “Yes, I believe that’s wholly fair.”

“I do too,” she nodded.

“Lucifer is your guardian. He will be responsible for your care, being that you’re still so young for a demon. It’s a formality, but it also gives you someone to go to when you’re lost or upset. You will have to abide by his rules as well. The promise you make will bind you to such,” Diavolo explained.

Rena licked her lips before glancing down to bring her tea to her lips. This was so much to go over. She set her cup on the ground and returned her vision to the prince. “You’re concerned with me being female.”

Diavolo twitched his nose and moved his hand up to her ear, scratching it. Comfort. The intelligent demon prince coaxing calm in a very intense concept. Once she made this promise to him, she was one of his demons for the duration of this accident. Owned, signed, and leased by the Devildom.

“I’m concerned that it could lead to larger issues,” he finally said. “Neither one of us is ignorant of your connections to my demons.”

Her cheeks darkened, and she bit her lower lip. It was only then that she realized just how elongated her incisors were. “Yes, well, that’s an issue, isn’t it? If I’m stuck like this for ten years, I really am not looking forward to the sexual tension in that house,” she tried to smile and laugh.

Diavolo hummed and tilted his head. “Then, we’ll fix that,” he rocked his head. “For now, can you attempt to not engage? To the extent of risking your possible return to humanity? I’m not positive, but I believe a demonic pregnancy is extremely permanent.”

“That’s quite fair,” Rena cleared her throat. Her tail thumped against the ground as she shifted. That was extremely blunt, and she wasn’t used to him being that way.

Diavolo frowned and traced his fingers over the top of her head. “Rena, I know this is so much to take into account. I’m asking for plenty of trust. It may not be deserving, given the circumstance. However, would you trust me with your livelihood? I would like to partner in your care, not command.”

She beamed and rocked her head. “I trust you, Lord Diavolo. If you meant me any harm, it would have been my demise years ago,” she giggled.

He pulled his fingers from her and held out his hand. “We’ll make promises to each other. Consider this an apprenticeship to being one of my demons,” he teased with a bright smile.

There was calm that came from Diavolo. However, there was the unmistakable hopefulness that bled through as well. She frowned in the slightest at him. “You wouldn’t be upset if I never went back to being human?”

His cheeks tinted with a light color. “That’s a talent of yours? To feel others’ emotions?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured and rubbed the side of her neck. “It’s kind of how I’ve always felt about reading beings but amplified.”

“That’s quite useful,” Barbatos murmured from across the room.

“Does that bother you?” Diavolo asked and put down his hand on his thigh. “That I wouldn’t mind it?”

“No, not at all,” Rena scowled. “The last thing I want is to be burdensome to anyone.”

“You’re not,” Lucifer sighed.

Diavolo bent forward and grinned. “Trust me, if you were a burden, I wouldn’t have insisted on showing you our secrets in the first place,” he whispered.

Rena laughed and rocked her head. “That’s quite fair,” she held out her hand.

Diavolo’s smile softened, and he sat up, gripping her hand. “I promise you’re in my care as a demon, for as long as you are one. I, as the Prince, vow to keep your person healthy and safe within my capacity. You are a subject of the Devildom who is embraced with shrouded wings and stationed in my land among the moon and stars.”

The words felt like they were fed to her in a dream. Likely in that instant download, he had given her. It bubbled up and warmed her chest.

“I promise to uphold the laws, regulations, and standards of the Devildom. With pride, fortitude, and honor for so long as I am a demon. My loyalties lie with its conviction and will bow to its magnitude. I remain under your shroud and stationed with honor and privilege in your land among the moon and stars.”

After the promises were made, a soft glimmer sparked between their hands, and resting upon the dorsal of Rena’s hand was a seal. A very intricate and beautiful seal. He released her hand, and she held it up to examine the details. Dark wings encircled a set of runes she had never seen before. Those runes were black and gold, with the center holding a ruby circle. Actually, it was definitely similar to the adornments in Diavolo’s demon form.

“Oh, that’s very cute,” Diavolo said while looking at his own hand. “If you were to ever make a pact, this would be what it looks like!” He chuckled and showed her.

The symbol in question was written in a muted turquoise that almost disappeared with wrapped silver around it, with the exception of two small triangular shapes that looked like ears. “Is that normal? Why is that silver?”

Diavolo grinned and shrugged. “Who knows. Maybe your celestial lineage.”

“I technically created a pact with you?” Rena asked.

Diavolo laughed and nodded. “The only demon awake who can create a pact with another demon is me,” he smirked and shrugged. “However, I cannot use the pact as you have before as a human. No, I can only admire it.”

“That’s pretty neat, actually,” Rena declared as she crawled closer to view it. “That’s so bright. I didn’t expect that color either,” she murmured while touching his hand, and her tail swayed behind her.

“Cunning,” Diavolo beamed and pointed at the rune. “You’re denoted as cunning.”

“Not really much to boast about,” she giggled and glanced at his face.

They were close. She just realized how little space she had provided while nearing him on her knees. His smell caressed Rena and warmed her skin. Her tail coiled around her person, and she swallowed before sitting down.

“I bet you're hungry,” Diavolo nodded and climbed from the floor before offering his hand. “Let’s have a little bit of food before you head back home, Rena.”

Rena took his hand, and he hoisted her to her feet. “Food sounds perfect,” she nodded and paced over to Lucifer.

He snorted and lifted his cloak, allowing her to slide next to him. His gloved fingers glided over her hair once before he scratched affectionately behind her ear. Barbatos handed her a plate with sandwiches on them and a refill on tea. Diavolo sat down in the armchair and placed his ankle on his knee.

“This went well,” Diavolo mused.

Barbatos rocked his head while handing him a plate. “Yes, young master. I am intrigued about what other useful talents Rena might possess.”

Rena’s tail swayed from side to side as it dangled from the seat. “Well, I don’t think much else has occurred to me. Barbs, you were going to explain to me why I felt so empty this morning?”

Barbatos sat down and rocked his head. “Yes, Rena. After debate about this talent of yours, it would appear your ability to sense others’ feelings is vital. You feed off of others’ energy. Adaptable, but of course resourceful. Likely a manifestation of a similar give and take between how you perceived relationships before.”

“Interesting,” Rena hummed and tilted her head as her ears flickered. “It won’t hurt anyone, will it?”

Barbatos shook his head. “No, the likelihood of the exchange being beneficial to both parties is solid. Just as you’ve enjoyed giving Lucifer praise in the past, you will enjoy the exchange of solving conflict and contentment.”

Lucifer groaned and pointed to her plate. “Please eat.”

“Now, Lucifer, don’t get frustrated with Barbatos’s assessment,” Diavolo chuckled.

Rena chewed on her bite and hummed. “Now that I’m essentially a demon of the Devildom, does that mean I have to avoid you now, Lord Diavolo?” Rena teased with a smile.

Diavolo scowled. “You better not. I’d be a little upset if you did.”

Barbatos stifled a chuckle. “I’m quite positive Lord Diavolo would be more than a little upset.”

Rena giggled and shook her head. “Well, I think I have no choice now. I’m technically a subject of the Devildom. If Lord Diavolo requires it, I suppose I best grow courage.”

Lucifer exhaled and sipped his cup. “An obligation I’d be happy to pass along to you.”

“You sound relieved, Lucifer,” Diavolo snorted with a wide grin.

Lucifer set his cup down and took Rena’s empty plate, setting it aside. “Of course not, Lord Diavolo.”

Barbatos cleared his throat. “Lucifer, care to come with me to review the agenda for this week. I imagine that you will have your hands quite full.”

He rocked his head and stood up, leaving his cloak around Rena. “Yes, that might be appropriate. I imagine my brothers are going to be relentless this week.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Barbatos smiled, and the two demons left the sitting room.

Rena shifted and ducked her head in the slightest. It was clear that whatever needed to be said was private and sensitive. What could the demon prince need from her?

Diavolo twitched his nose and set down his plate. “Do you mind if I sit with you a moment?”

She shook her head and positioned the cloak closer to her body. “Not at all.”

He stood up and walked around the coffee table before sitting down. There was an increased push of his energy that caressed Rena like soft fingers. Rena glanced up at him while her head was still ducked toward her neck.

“You look nervous,” he chuckled.

“Well, there’s a reason you needed to speak to me alone?” Rena questioned.

He rocked his head. “Yes, there’s something I would like to ask of you.”

“Yes?”

Diavolo reached over and caressed her ear. “Will you please keep your new little talents to yourself? I don’t want someone to use or manipulate you, alright? I truly am worried about you getting hurt. If you learn anything new, you can talk to Lucifer, or if you feel it’s too sensitive, you can come to me.”

“Sensitive?”

Diavolo bent closer as his brows sank. It wasn’t aggressive or even frustration, but of a serious nature. “If you discover something similar to the talent you revealed today, it could be risky for others to know about. You’re mine to worry about, Rena. I will do so with the utmost care,” he whispered and cupped her cheek.

There was no denying that he was honest and felt that way with deep consideration. It radiated off of him in a calming blanket, and his golden eyes were soft with affection. Rena breathed and pressed her cheek further into his hand. It felt… surrendering.

“Whatever you believe is best, Lord Diavolo. I trust you infallibly,” she voiced, and her lips curled.

“That’s my wonderfully intelligent demon,” he smirked and ran his thumb along her cheekbone. “Now, I want you to get plenty of rest and enjoy tomorrow. Even if only for a while, you will get to be one of us.”

That was true. Whether it was only weeks or not, well, there wasn’t any solidity. However, as long as she was a demon, she knew she was safe. Several demons would be watching and caring for her welfare.

#obey me fandom #obey me demon mc #obey me humor #obey me fluff #obey me angst #new rules #frustration #om! fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me demons #obey me angels #obey me sorcerer #magical accident #transformation #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #om! solomon #om! simeon #om! luke #om! diavolo #om! barbatos

[jenmyeons]

These Nights

Pairing: kyungsoo x female reader

Summary: Kyungsoo’s dream has always been to own a farm where he can lead a quiet life without much worry. Turns out silence is hard to come by with two kids and equally as many dogs. At least he has you to share it with and perhaps that’s the best part.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,7k

Author’s note: been meaning to put something together for the loveliest and super talented @kyungseokie for a while now and after not being able to get kyungsoo on a farm out of my head, this served to be the last push. i hope you like this dia! you are such an inspiration and one of the kindest people i’ve met on this site. this is a little thank you for being so kind to me 💗

A warm breeze catches your hair and the white linen hung up by clothing pins, the wind blowing through the treetops giving off a calming sound as you reach for the next bedsheet in line. The familiar smell of detergent filling your nostrils. In the distance, you see your husband approaching with his beige straw hat in place and a large basket filled to the brim with various greens which you know will be used for dinner later on. Your mouth waters and stomach rumbles lowly with the thought of your husbands homemade meals. Lost in thought, humming a made up tune under your breath, you pinch the last clothing pin over the creamy white fabric. There’s a shuffling of feet against grass sounding from behind you and then you hear a thud as, what you suppose is the basket, hits the ground. Turning around, your husband’s heart shaped smile greets you and he stretches his arms out to draw you into himself, leaving featherlight kisses on your unsuspecting lips. You close your eyes briefly to cherish the moment before Kyungsoo pulls away from you, lips returning to their grinning form.

”What have I done to deserve all this affection?” You ask suspiciously with eyebrows raised.

Kyungsoo shrugs and steals another kiss. ”Nothing, just here to tell you that I’m done at the field for the day and thought I’d head inside to get started on dinner,” he tells you then looks around the yard, likely searching for the kids.

”They’re playing with the dogs at the front yard,” you let him know.

Just then, the distinct sound of your daughter screeching out her laughter reaches you through another breeze. Then followed by her brother’s.

”I bet they’ll be hungry soon so go ahead and I’ll join you after I’m done hanging these.”

This time, it’s your turn to sneak a kiss. Kyungsoo nods and picks up the basket once more before making his way towards your house. You take a moment to admire your husbands rather nice-looking butt as he takes his leave. You laugh at yourself, feeling like a teenager stealing glances at their crush when they aren’t paying attention. Two kids and years together yet you still question how you managed to snatch such a good looking man with a heart of gold and the added bonus of a firmly shaped ass.

Walking into the house after finishing up outside, you’re immediately met with the welcoming smell of your husbands cooking. The sound of a stew boiling on a low temp on the stove and your husband’s sharp knife hitting the cutting board relaxes you in an instant. Leaving the empty laundry bag by the doorway and making your way into the kitchen. You steal a carrot from a bowl on the counter in front of Kyungsoo, plopping it into your mouth, then move to lean your backside against the sink and ask if he needs any help with dinner. Kyungsoo shakes his head but gives you the task of setting the table instead. Moving over to the cupboard beside the stove is almost autopilot at this point and you quickly bring down four plates which you then put them in place upon the dining room table.

”Honey, dinner is almost done. Will you tell the kids to come inside and wash their hands?” Kyungsoo asks over his shoulder and you hum out a ’yes’ in response.

You walk out the front yard and are immediately met by your children’s delighted giggles as they throw Meokmul her favorite toy, clapping in awe as she races to catch the worn out rubber chicken. Your heart fills with warmth in your chest and you smile widely at the scene unfolding in front of you.

”Hey kids!” You call out gently to gain their attention. ”Dad is almost done cooking so would you make mommy and daddy proud and show us how fast you can finish up here and go wash your hands?”

Stopping in their tracks, both of them shriek out ’yes’ in chorus before running off to wash their hands inside. Forgetting all about the dogs and the rubber duck. With a sigh, you pick up the abandoned toy from the grass and instruct Meokmul and Hoochoo to get inside as well before heading back in yourself.

Dinner flows by like the light breeze outside, the kids laugh at Kyungsoo as his glasses fog when lifting the lid off the pot and then some more when he scolds them lightheartedly for laughing at their dad. You listen intently as each of them recount their days at school and kindergarten. Small hands waving around frantically while your daughter tells you all about the latest dinosaur she’s learnt about, beaming at the proud grins her parents sport as she happily continues on about her favorite herbivore.

Your son at the opposite side of the table, is too busy stuffing his face with food to engage in his older sister’s storytelling. The way it usually is, and you eye him carefully to make sure he doesn’t swallow down the wrong pipe. Kyungsoo, ever the attentive husband, catches on quickly and nudges his son gently.

”Hey big guy, slow down a little,” your son looks up in confusion and Kyungsoo elaborates, ”you don’t want your tummy to hurt.”

He ruffles the mop of black hair on the younger’s head and receives a nod in affirmation but continues keeping an eye on his son until he slows down.

”I just love your food the mostest daddy!” Your son exclaims, mouth full of food, a spare piece of rice flying out onto the table. All four of you laugh heartily at the sight, especially your daughter who clutches her stomach from laughing too hard - almost falling off her chair in the process. A habit she has definitely picked up from her uncle Chanyeol.

You can tell by the fond smile and love-laced gaze in your husbands eyes that the compliment has his heart swelling in pride.

After the kids leave the table and only the dishes are left to wash is when the sun starts to set, painting the room in a golden hue. Kyungsoo puts the leftover food in various glass containers while you get started on rinsing the plates before putting them in the dishwasher. The low humming of Kyungsoo’s voice feels soothing as you scrub the damp sponge against the porcelain. In the background, the sound of the TV playing can be heard along with the occasional giggle from one of the children. You lean into Kyungsoo as he affectionately envelopes you in his arms from behind, a kiss being left behind your ear. There’s something safe about his embrace. Something about the way he softly clings to you after a long day out in the field. It makes you think that maybe you’re his safe haven the same way he is yours.

”It’s getting late, let’s put the kids to bed and bring out the wine after,” he says, voice low and deep in your ear.

”Sounds good.” You nod. ”We still haven’t watched that movie you were talking about a while back.”

That settles it, the two of you usher the kids upstairs and into their shared bedroom to put on their pajamas. The youngest getting some help while your daughter puts her penguin patterned t-shirt on. Some whining, overpowered by loud giggles rings from the bathroom across the hall as you help your son. A tell-tale sign of your daughter testing her dad’s patience while he attempts to comb through her long dark hair.

An annoyed ’yah!’ sounds through the house and you pat your son’s butt when you finish buttoning his pajama shirt to urge him into the bathroom.

”Sit still if you want to avoid getting your hair pulled or you’ll have to do it yourself!” Your husband complains to his daughter who is still acting like a giggling mess below him.

You smile and fetch his toothbrush from the cabinet and tell your son to take a seat on the toilet so you can brush his teeth. Your son listens and impatiently swings his legs back and forth as you get his toothbrush ready, his tiny hands grabbing the edge of the toilet seat. He is definitely the calmer of your two little wildlings and let’s his mom brush away without much complaint until you’re done. Getting his sister to go to bed, on the other hand, is an entirely different story. You let Kyungsoo handle her most nights, his patience a lot better than yours.

After successfully getting them both in their respective beds, they both nag their father to read them bedtime stories until they fall asleep. Kyungsoo, being the tender soul that he is, gives in without much convincing and you deem your job done for the night, leaving the top floor to get the TV started then pour up the wine.

Wine glass in hand, you listen carefully to your husband’s storytelling - taking a sip from time to time. Judging by the lack of interruptions on the children’s part, you imagine it’s quite the intriguing tale. You take this moment for yourself to stretch out your tense limbs as you wait for the story to end.

A while later, the sound of Kyungsoo’s slippers flopping as he makes his way down the stairs meets your ears and you set your own glass down in order to pour him some. You leave the kitchen and make your way into the living room where Kyungsoo has already parked on the couch, remote in hand, ready to start the film up. Knowing the two of you, you probably won’t make it through the whole movie anyways - no matter how good it may be since falling asleep on the couch seems to be the default setting of parents with young kids. Not that you mind. Not in the least.

#exo #kyungsoo #exo fluff #kyungsoo fluff #farmer!soo #dad!kyungsoo #exo fanfic #kyungsoo fanfic #kyungsoo scenario #exo scenario

[intern-seraph]

i fell asleep afraid i would never wake again

in which they finally fucking kiss

has spoilers for literally everything bon ape tit

CW: death, murder, attempted murder, idiots kissing each other, fighting

Alfswen’s still not entirely sure when or how it turned into a co-sleeping arrangement. A few nights where she or Braham snuck into the other’s tent and crawled under the blanket turned into waking up every morning with her flopped over on his chest or his arm draped over her like a weighted blanket. It’s… nice. Though she’s loath to admit it, there’s something comforting about having someone there in the morning. It’s at his side that she finds herself now. He’s sound asleep, mouth half-open as he snores and his cheek smooshed flat against her bedroll.

Cute.

Today, though, there’s no time to sleep in. She sits up and gently jostles his shoulder. “Rise and shine.”

He grunts and shifts away from her. “Don’ wanna.”

“We have work to do today. Things to kill, people to see…”

“Can wait. ‘M tired. Lessgo back t’sleep?”

“I’ll drag you out if I have to.”

“You can’t.”

“Oh, I certainly can. Don’t forget, I have the power of the Mists on my side.”

“I’m up, I’m up!” Braham pushes himself up on his elbows and rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Gimme the rundown on the plan again?”

“Find Drakkar, corner it, beat the shit out of it.”

“Sweet.”

Alfswen rolls out from under the blanket and stretches her arms up to the roof of their tent. Their weapons lie in a pile in the corner, stacked on top of her armor and crowned with her discarded blindfold. “We should hurry and get dressed. Rytlock and Crecia won’t wait forever.”

“Bet I can get ready faster than you.”

“In your dreams.”

—

The Tribunes are gathered around the campfire when Braham and Alfswen emerge from the tent. Alfswen sits beside Rytlock with a wordless little nod. He cocks his head to the side, then hands her a skewered piece of meat.

“Morning, sleeping beauties. Was starting to wonder what was going on in there,” he comments.

“Braham was trying to sleep in. Don’t imply things like that, old man.” She jabs her elbow into his side.

“Eh? All I’m saying is that you two have been really cuddly lately.”

“Nothing like that is happening.” Her cheeks burn a bright gold. She chances a glance at Braham. His own face is pink and his eyes are wide. “Perhaps we’re just being friendly, Brimstone.”

Braham starts coughing. Someone nearby snickers and thumps him on the back. “Give them a break, Tribune. It’s cold out here. Canoodling isn’t the only explanation,” Arbreura drawls as she steps out of the shadows. She cocks her head at Alfswen.  “Good morning, sister dear.”

“You’re not coming.”

“I didn’t even ask!”

“You’re not coming.” Alfswen doesn’t even look up from her food. “You’re not suited for helping kill Drakkar.”

“Wh-hey!”

“The Commander is right,” Crecia interjects. She prods at the coals. “We won’t need a sniper for this mission.”

“Thank you, Crecia.” Alfswen sinks her teeth into her breakfast and tears a hunk away. Arbreura makes a quiet, horrified noise. Speaking through a mouthful of food, Alfswen continues, “You can stand watch at the door if y’really wanna be there.”

“I… will pass.” Arbreura turns on her heel. She pauses, then looks back over her shoulder. Her smile sobers. “Stay safe, dearie.”

“No promises.”

—

“You’re out of your mind. This stops now!” she shouts. She curls her hands into tight fists. Braham sets a hand on her shoulder and gives a squeeze. Her hackles raise and she snarls at Bangar. He doesn’t seem to notice or care to notice.

Instead, he smiles. It’s a prideful, terrifying grin that sends a chill down her spine. He raises Eir’s bow and nocks an arrow. “I couldn’t agree more.”

She doesn’t realize what’s happening until it hits her. The impact sends her stumbling back, her eyes wide with surprise. At first it’s a dull burn in her gut, but it builds into a searing pain that spreads out from her belly until it encompasses her whole body. She screams, hands scrabbling at where the arrow lodged itself in a blind attempt to wrench it out of her body. Rytlock and Crecia grapple her, wrestling her to the ground.

“Don’t let her take it out!”

“Dammit!”

It hurts to breathe. She gasps for air, but it feels like she’s drowning. “No. No, not… not…”

“Commander, stay with us! Focus!”

“R-Rytlock… what…”

“Focus on my voice!”

He rips off her blindfold, discarding it somewhere in the cave. Rytlock and Crecia are blurry figures, her vision shifting as she tries to stay awake. “I don’t… don’t wanna die… not…” Her mouth fills with hot sap. The world goes out of focus for a moment, then comes back. Balthazar grins down at her, face twisted with sick glee. Aurene roars behind him as she struggles against her chains. Alfswen reaches out one trembling hand as the pain in her chest turns her world black.

“Aurene.”

She kneels in front of the dias. The hatchling chirrups happily and taps her front feet on the floor.

“Aurene?” Caithe kneels beside Alfswen with a small, quizzical smile.

“Yes. That’s her name.”

“How did you come up with it?”

She cups Aurene’s head in both hands. There’s so much love in the little dragon’s eyes. She smiles and kisses the crown of her head. “I’m not sure. It just… felt right.”

Aurene coos and butts her forehead against Alfswen’s. She can’t help but laugh.

“You’ll do great things.”

Forgal smiles down at her, grim and determined. She shakes her head.

“No. No, Forgal you can’t do this. There has to be another way.”

“Kid, you need to protect these people. Get them out of here safely, okay?” He ruffles her leaves. “The dragons already took my family from me… I won’t let Zhaitan have you. I’ll give you a head start, but you need to run. Make sure to give Jormag a bloody nose for me someday, alright?”

“No, no, no!” She wants to lunge after him and hold him back, but she can feel the spirits in her body rooting her to the ground. Her breath chokes in her chest and she reaches out to stop him just as the gates shut. She screams and screams and screams and tries to force herself to follow but her legs don’t obey, they aren’t hers now and they carry her away away away to the ship and into the darkness below deck.

He’s gone. He sacrificed himself to protect others.

She tries to explain this to Ceera, tries to be gentle and understanding, but Alfswen can tell that she’s failed as soon as the grief in Ceera’s eyes turns to boiling rage and hatred. “You… you killed him!”

“I never wanted this to happen, Ceera. Tonn made his choice, though. He saved countless lives, even i—”

“Murderer!” The anger in her voice startles Alfswen enough to drive her back a step. “You killed him. You… you and your Pact.”

“That’s not… do you really think I wanted this to happen?” Her eyes well up beneath her blindfold and she grits her teeth to hold back a sob. “Do you really think I wanted Eir to die?!”

Braham stares at her, eyes wide with shock at her outburst. His mouth twists into a furious snarl. “Well maybe she would still be here if we’d moved faster, Commander.”

Alfswen freezes up. It feels like she’s choking. It takes all the strength in her to say, “You’re not the only one who lost family, Braham.”

“Hey, maybe we should all calm down for a sec here?” Rox suggests. She glances between them, raising her paws in an attempt to calm them. At this point, Alfswen can’t stop herself from crying. Hurts. It just hurts.

He’d been there when she had to kill Trahearne. He knew what she was forced to do. So then why, why..?

Braham grunts, turning his back on both women. “I’m leaving. Rox?”

Rox glances at Alfswen, wringing her paws nervously. Alfswen nods numbly at her friend. “... See ya, Boss.” Rox takes a deep breath and scampers after Braham as he stomps out of the cave.

Alone, she falls to her knees and pulls them up to her chest. The ship’s hull groans and creaks around her, amplified to a near-deafening volume. It’s loud enough that she doesn’t hear Trahearne approach her.

“Warmaster?” he whispers.

She tilts her head up. “A-am I… needed?”

“Oh.” He sits beside her and daintily removes her blindfold. Her eyes are wide and puffy and red from crying. “Oh…” He pulls her into his arms and rocks her as she sobs into his chest. “Breathe. It’ll be alright…”

“He’s gone. He’s… I can’t believe…”

“He wanted you to live, Alfswen.”

“It should have—hic!—should have been me. Why did… he do it…”

“Breathe in, breathe out…”

“I… why did he have to die?”

“You’re young. He likely believed that you have a better chance at a future.”

“I’m not… a good person. I don’t… why would he sacrifice himself for someone like me?”

Trahearne frowns, hidden by the darkness around them, and pulls her closer. “You’ll do great things. We can honor him together.”

It’s cold, and the salty sea air stings her nose when she breathes in. Her hands ball into fists, power coursing through her body. Captain Ellen Kiel motions to the mouth of the cave. Like a dog let off the leash, Alfswen rushes in. She narrowly avoids Canach’s first few traps, her spirits and the detector alerting her to each bomb. But her bloodlust overwhelms her better judgement, fuels her actions with a kind of blind fury that she sorely missed. The first bomb she sets off is poison. Her lungs scream and her stomach turns and she starts to feel a heady haze settle in.

“Is this what they sent after me?” Canach sneers. “A sapling?”

Alfswen laughs and laughs and laughs, her teeth bared in a feral grin. She slams her fist into one of the rock formations, channeling all her power both physical and magical through her arm. The stone crumbles beneath her gauntlet. “You think too highly of yourself, brother. I’m the hound that’s here to flush you out. Dead or alive, I don’t care. I’ll bring you back in pieces if I have to. I’m no sapling.”

She was a sapling once. Back in a time before Caithe, before Trahearne, before Forgal and Almorra and Canach and Marjory and Kasmeer and Braham and Taimi and the whole lot of them. A time when she was alone with herself and the voices in her head. Filled with anger and power that she couldn’t quite comprehend, she unleashed it on things that deserved her violence. She was meant to do great things, Mother said. She was built to be strong. A soldier. A dragonslayer. A godkiller.

“Why?” she whispers to the Pale Tree. “Why did I never get to be a child?”

The Avatar of the Tree cups her cheeks, wiping her tears away. “I’m sorry, my dear. I am so, so sorry.” She kisses her on the forehead, rubbing between her shoulders as she weeps. “I wish that we could change the past.”

—

Dull pain rouses her from her sleep. One of her hands immediately darts to her belly, groping for the shaft of an arrow that’s no longer there. She groans, attempts to sit up, fails. Warm fingers curl around her hand, tugging it away from her body. She startles for a moment, then shifts to her side with some struggle. Braham is still half-asleep when she sees him lying beside her. His eyes open slowly. They’re bleary with sleep and old tears. Without a word, he reaches over and pulls her into his side. His whole body trembles. Silence settles between them for a long, anxious moment.

“How’re you feeling?” he whispers into her hair.

“Like I just got shot with a magic arrow.” “Don’t joke about that! I was… I thought that…” His breath shudders. “We really thought you were gonna die there.”

She brings up a hand to grip at his arm. “Was it that bad..?”

“There was so much blood, Alf.”

Silence again. She shuffles closer to him. The idea of coming that close to death again…

“I was scared,” he admits. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You…” Her breath catches in her chest.

“I really… care about you.” He clears his throat and curls his fingers around the curve of her shoulder. She pulls away a little and looks him in the eye. He meets her gaze for a moment. Then, his face reddening, he glances down at her mouth. Back up again. “I…”

She processes his meaning after a second. Her eyes go wide, then she nods. His fingers slip between her leaves, stroking the fronds as he dips in to kiss her. She breathes out a trembling sigh through her nose and presses closer to him. The kiss is restrained, barely held back by propriety and concern for her injury. He screws his eyes shut, brow furrowing. The hand on the back of her head presses her ever closer, and his other arm wraps gently around her waist.

“Commander? Braham? Aurene said th—”

Immediately, they freeze. Alfswen is the first to move, rolling over onto her back. Braham slips a hand between her shoulders to help her sit up. Still, she leans heavily on him, the effort it took just to sit having sapped what’s left of her energy.

“Y-yes, Jhavi?” she stammers.

“I came to check in on you. Your dragon told us that you finally woke up. She was… definitely right about that. Was I interrupting?”

“No! Never! Definitely not!” Alfswen squeezes her eyes shut as if that will make herself invisible.

“Right. Well, it’s good to see you’re awake and well.” Jhavi half-grins, shaking her head. She crosses her arms. “You’ve been out for a while. We’ve set up a temporary camp here until you’re fully recovered.”

“Ah… where exactly is ‘here?’” For the first time since she came to, Alfswen takes in her surroundings. The entire… room? cavern? is made of translucent crystals that catch the light and bathe the whole area in scattered rainbows. It’s ethereal, unreal, yet familiar.

“Your dragon’s sanctum. She wants to talk to you, so we should get moving.”

“She’s not—alright, nevermind.” Alfswen moves to stand, but realizes right before careening forwards that no, she’s not ready to walk on her own by any means. Braham catches her before she hits the ground, wrapping his arm around her and holding her to his side. She groans. Being this weak… it’s unnerving. Still, she leans against him and lets him half-carry her.

—

She takes short naps throughout the rest of the day. Braham sits watch beside her. His warm hand never leaves hers. It’s only late in the evening that she wakes up lucid enough to hold a conversation.

“Hey, Braham… what exactly happened there? When I… yeah.”

He remains silent for a minute too long and squeezes her hand a little tighter. His face turns a deep, dusky rose. “I, uh, might’ve become the wolf.”

“You—what?!” She stares up at him wide-eyed and beaming. “You became the wolf? That’s amazing!”

“It was only for a little bit! I was just so freakin’ angry and-and then I just sorta… pop! I was the wolf!”

“I should get fatal injuries more often.” She laughs when he startles. As an apology, she places a kiss on the back of his hand. His blush worsens. “I’m proud of you. Just wish I could have seen it.”

“You’ll get a chance eventually. But no more getting shot! You literally scared the Wolf outta me!”

“I’ll try my best.” Alfswen tugs his hand, coaxing him to lie down beside her. “But no promises. You said it best way back when: I do cause chaos.”

“Way to use that against me,” he mutters. Still, he pulls her flush against him and taps the tip of his nose to hers. “No chaos for us right now. You need lots of sleep.”

“I also seem to remember a certain norn insisting that his broken leg was totally healed and he could do all the combat he wanted…”

“Shut up or I’m leaving.”

She makes a soft clicking noise in the back of her throat and nestles into his chest. “You wouldn’t.”

“... Yeah, I wouldn’t.”

—

“Braham?” she mumbles sleepily. The cavern is dark. Somewhere else in the Eye of the North, Aurene’s snoring. Or perhaps it’s Rytlock. It’s hard to tell the difference. Alfswen pokes him in the side. “Braham?”

Braham’s chest rumbles with a groan. He mutters something incoherent. Then, he says, “G’back t’sleep.”

“What are we now?”

His breath stills. The arm draped over her body shifts, and his hand caresses the back of her head. “Whatever you wanna be.”

“I’d like… to try out this lovey stuff.”

“Hah… so do I.” He snuffles, wiggling under their shared blanket. She can feel his lips moving against her scalp as he speaks again. “Now lessgo back t’sleep. Tired.”

#gw2 fanfiction #gw2 #gw2 spoilers #guild wars 2 #braham #braham eirsson #brahammander #braham/commander #sylvari commander #sylvari #tyriaslibrary #my writing #alfswen #seraph speaks

[mythgirlimagines]

Here’s what we got first! Ready? Then here we go!

THE BLOODBATH

Sapphire, Red, White, Shield, Wally and Yellow run from the Cornucopia

Whi-2 gets a pair of sais (some weapon thing, the weird-looking ones)

Plat, Crys, and Black work together and gather as many supplies as they can

SILVER SNAPS PEARL’S NECK WOW

Sword gets camping equipment

Moon breaks Sun’s nose for bread which I think is pretty canon

X does the same to Dia

Green, Ruby, Lack-2 and Gold share everything and run (kind of an odd group if you ask me)

Y gets a trident

Rald gets throwing knives

And Blue gets a lighter and rope

DAY 1

Getting good already,,,Silver injures Crys and puts her out of her misery

Sword explores

Shield decides to become a fruit child

Sapphire, White, and Emerald hunt for other tributes

Plat hears Ruby and Red talking, hopefully about something juicy

Lack-2 and Sun hunt, given how the other ones went Sun’s gonna get a knife in his back probably

Y, Yellow, Whi-2, and Blue raid Black's camp while he’s hunting (HA)

Gold, Dia, and Green hunt for tributes (VERY strange combo)

X and Moon split to check for resources

Wally also becomes a fruit child

NIGHT 1

Red, Plat, and Lack-2 discuss the game

They need to make smarter choices about who they talk to imo

White and Sun tell stories about each other

Moon gets clean water so at least she won’t be dehydrated

X can’t start a fire somehow, kinda pathetic

Green, Ruby, and Rald also discuss the game

Whi-2 destroys Y’s supplies,,,,get it girl

Silver sees a fire, Black has nightmares (poor boy), Shield hums

Saph tends to Dia’s wounds

Gold is lost, which,,,canon

Blue tends to her wounds, Yellow looks at the sky

Sword stabs ruby with a tree branch wow

DAY 2

Lack-2 decapitates Dia byee

Y finds a river, good for her

Silver and Moon split up and search for resources

Ruby steals from Sword, haha

Green gets medical supplies

X tries fishing, presumably fails because he can’t seem to do anything

Sapphire hunts, Shield can’t pick berries right, Red fishes, Yellow sees smoke in the distance

Platinum, Emerald, Gold, and Blue raid Whi-2's camp while she’s hunting whoops

Sun gets clean water from a sponsor

Black,,,you idiot,,,he injures himself

Also White discovers a cave

NIGHT 2

Rald lets Gold into his shelter (awwwww)

Red tries to sing himself to sleep, Y thinks about home

Lack-2 and Yellow huddle for warmth

Yellow,,,,my love,,,please make better choices

Saph gets clean water

Black, Moon, and Silver sleep in shifts, so do Green, X, Shield, and Ruby

Sun can’t start a fire even though he has the fire starter from Alola

Whi-2 gets food

Plat and Sword fight White and Blue (the Bitches(TM))....and Plat and Sword win!

DAY 3

Sun and Gold can’t pick berries right apparently

Silver gets a hatchet,,,,oh no,,,,

Lack-2, Platinum, Green, Emerald, and Sapphire hunt for other tributes, makes sense

Y scares Whi-2 off, Red questions his sanity (canon), Ruby discovers a cave

Black diverts Yellow’s attention and runs away (she can be scary when she wants to me)

Moon begs for X to kill her but for some reason, he does not

Shield tries to sleep through the day (which my sisters are trying to do rn)

ARENA EVENT!!!! A fire spreads through the arena!

A fireball strikes Emerald and kills him (f)

Lack-2, Y, Sword, and Sun can’t find a safe spot and suffocate

Sucks for them I guess

A fireball strikes Saph and kills her, I bet the same’ll happen to Ruby

X falls to the ground, but kicks Red hard enough to then push him into the fire WOW

THE SAME HAPPENS TO GREEN AND RUBY BYE HOENN

Shield kills Whi-2 to use water safely (I guess)

Gold, Moon, Silver, Plat, Black, and Yellow survive

NIGHT 3

Silver falls into a pit and hecking dies

Shield, Moon, X, and Green sleep in shifts

Yellow thinks about winning, good for her

But so does Plat so

Black gets medical supplies from a sponsor

Gold starts a fire (which you would think he wouldn’t want to do after the event)

THE FEAST

Black, Moon, and Yellow don’t go (good choice imo)

SHIELD STABS GREEN WHILE HIS BACK IS TURNED WOW

And

And Platinum shoots Gold with a poisonous dart

And

X accidentally steps on a landmine

The fool

DAY 4

Shield and Moon search for water, Plat sees smoke in the distance, Yellow receives an explosive (oh no)

Oh whoops

Looks like Black dies from dysentery

NIGHT 4

Plat, Moon, and Shield sleep in shifts

Yellow passes out from exhaustion (canon but also oh no)

DAY 5

Moon kills Plat while she’s resting,,,sorry Sinnoh

Shield camouflages herself

Yellow tries to sleep all day (also pretty canon)

NIGHT 5

Shield receives a hatchet (oh no,,,)

Moon is lost

OH NO

YELLOW DIES ON AN INFECTION

so much for sixth time’s the charm smh

DAY 6

Moon dies of hypothermia

Oh

That means,,,

Good for her I guess

#hunger games simulator #trainer red #trainer green #trainer blue #trainer yellow #trainer gold #trainer silver #trainer crystal #trainer emerald #trainer ruby #trainer sapphire #trainer diamond #trainer pearl #trainer wally #trainer platinum #trainer black #trainer white #trainer blake #trainer whitley #trainer x #trainer y #trainer moon #trainer sun #trainer sword #trainer shield #pokemon #pokespe #swearing

[mianite-3-unofficial]

A Discussion of Doubles

“What do you think our doubles are like?”

Sparkelz looked up at Dianite. He was still petting Mot’s hair like he was a cat, red skin less intense in the dark.

“I don’t really care.”

“But don’t you wonder?” He mused, “I think Jericho’s double will be a little bitch. Runs in the... family? Can I say that? The Jericho-Jeriah bitch bloodline?”

Sparklez laughed despite himself.

“I don’t know, Dia. I’m worried, though.”

“I’m sorry, mate. About Sonja?”

“No. I mean, yes, but so much more than just that...” he looked pathetically back to the blanket, realizing he’d spilled a little tea on the sheets. He brought it to his nose. Ah, yes, it still smelled like cinnamon.

“I’m worried,” Sparklez continued, “That my Lady won’t be my Lady. That she’ll be someone completely different. I’ll still follow her like I always have, but... it scares me.”

“Scares me too,” Dianite admitted, “I don’t want to know what the me in this universe is like. Probably a nasty bastard, like the one in y’all’s original universe.”

“He was a bastard. Runs in the family.”

Dianite covered his mouth and laughed, Mot not even stirring against him.

“Speaking of bastards-“

“Tom will be better in the morning. It’s always hard the first few days.”

“What are you two talking about?”

The both of them looked up to see Wag, sleepy eyed and drowsy, sit up from bed. His hood was down, revealing his face. Pale, with the two signature lines running down from his eyes. Sparklez looked away.

“Our doubles.”

Wag scoffed.

“Fuck, really? I just had a dream I was choking myself to death.”

Dianite and Sparkelz gave him a concerned look.

“No, not like that. A clone of myself was choking me, and I wake up to you two talking about doubles,” he drawled, voice thick with sleep.

Dianite said, ever so eloquently, “I bet your double’s a prick.”

The three of them chuckled, Waglington fidgeting uneasily.

“Well, there’s no way in telling who’s double is who.”

“Maybe Sonja’s thauminomiconaconamajiggy?”

“That gold purple thing? No, it changes from person to person. Besides, might not work here,” Waglington reasoned.

The unsaid truth hung heavily in the air, an anvil suspended by silk thread.

Sparklez cleared his throat.

“I’m going to sleep. I think we all should.”

“Except me,” Dianite said, “Ive had enough sleep to last a millennia.”

Sparkelz nodded and laid down in his bed, guilt crashing down onto him.

Four years, just to lose one of their own the first time they had hope. What if it was his fault? Everything? And he kept on leading them into more and more trouble?

He tossed and turned all night, hoping for sleep to come and take him back to a place where the worst thing that could happen was his house burning down.

#mianite #mianite season 3 #captainsparkelz #dianite #waglington

[solitaire-dreams]

What’s Your Type? : Pokespe Fire/Water/Grass Dexholder Analysis

DISCLAIMER: Honestly, I've only read RGB, RS, DP, BW, and SM arcs in full; and parts of the Yellow and B2W2 arc. So, any information outside of these arcs is coming from Bulbapedia and is liable to be incorrect.

When it comes to the world of Pokespe, rather than the anime where we follow the never aging Ash Ketchum, we now total about 21 dexholders (our protagonists).  Each dexholder is fairly unique from one another, yet one thing always tends to be in common between them. The same thing that's always common when we pick up our consoles to start a new Pokemon journey. Picking our starters.

In the world of Pokespe, the standard starters aren't guaranteed to be the first Pokemon they will receive—quite the opposite actually—yet they will always gain one of the traditional starters at some point of their evolutionary line on their journey. (The only two exceptions are Yellow who was created for the Yellow games where Pikachu was the starter, and Whi-two or Whitley because they ran out of Unovan starters). This often has us classify the dexholders into grass, fire, and water varieties. Though this categorization goes deeper than a Pokemon in their party, but plays a large role in their characterization.

Each of the dexholders in each category share a trait that connects all of them, and will provide useful for other predictions (skip to the end if you just want to know what the other prediction is). This post is focused on breaking them down one by one.

Note: Since I was tempted enough to reblog an incorrect pokespe quote where green was the name given to the male character, for the rest of this blog, Green is the male character and Blue is the female. Got it? Good.

First off, we'll start off with the fire type dexholders. Most of you might notice some obvious similarities:

Yet, there is also one very obvious exception:

Green here doesn't tend to shout, especially as much as the other fire type dexholders. So, then what is the factor connecting them? All of them still have a very fiery spirit, and more accurately, is their strong determination towards achieving whatever goal they have. They will pursue it no matter whatever or whoever lies in their way; often leading to causing chaos or bad relationships with other people in their wake.

Green is extremely focused on becoming a strong trainer. Upon his first appearance, he is battling Mew with Charmander to train it and shows no remorse when Red tries to battle it and his Pokemon faints; rather looking down on him for not “noticing anything” during the fight. This determination continues throughout the first arc, as further demonstrated when he tries to force his way into Saffron City after Team Rocket attacks Pallet Town and takes his grandfather.

Gold has the notable trait of having a one-track mind, where he focuses on something so much he will pursue that relentlessly, and ignoring anything else that doesn't pertain to that. Though, this trait manifests itself most when Gold pursues “pretty girls” such as the Kimono Girls, gym leader Jasmine, or even Crystal upon first discovering her.

Though it still can translate in the pursuit of Gold's goals, where he initially receives a Pokedex because he wanted to use it in battle, and urgently attempts to gain a unique specialty during the GSC arc.

Sapphire's dexholder title is specifically “The Conquer” in reference to her earning 8 gym badges in 80 days. She unrelentingly goes around the region to defeat the gym leaders—causing her to start off on the wrong foot with Ruby. And she turns it into a bet to reach their respective goals in 80 days all because it stemmed from a promise she made with her childhood friend to beat the record of Red when it came to the Pokemon League.

Pearl's title is the Determiner, one he received after bonding with Azelf—the lake guardian of Willpower. He managed to bond with Azelf because he completes whatever he starts; as clarified by Diamond in the arc. Determiner, willpower, completes whatever started...yeah, this screams dedication to a goal. Especially when you consider the focus Pearl gives to Dia's and his comedy routine.

For Black though, no matter how well I could paraphrase it, I will just quote this article (bulbapedia.bulbagarden.net/wiki/Black_(Adventures)): “Black is a young man who aspires to be the Champion of the Unova Pokémon League. He has been dreaming of this since childhood, nine years to be exact. However, these dreams fill his head to the point where he cannot think about anything else and any attempts to cause him to pass out from mental exhaustion...Due to his dreams causing him to forget about other things, Black has the tendency to do things without considering the consequences of his actions and their effects on other people.”

I think the above proves the point well enough.

Also, I would like to briefly mention Y. While Y isn't a fire type dexholder (she's a water type), since there is no fire type dexholder in Kalos (Malva doesn't really count), she is a kind of water/fire dual type with her personality. Y shouts more than most of the other water dexholders and exhibits a more solid determination to pursue her goal of becoming a Sky Trainer, even when this runs into direct opposition with her mother's ideas for her.

Lastly, we wrap up the fire dexholder with our latest protagonist, Sun. Sun has the goal of collecting 100 million yen. Acheiving this goal has been Sun's whole time in Alola in the making. He relentlessly pursues money, even prioritizing reaching his personal goal than helping the Alola region against the Ultra Beast invasion, leading him to get sucked into Ultra Space with Solgaleo.

Next up is the water type dexholders, which personally I found the revelation most interesting. It would be difficult to derive a personality solely from the type this time. Unlike fire which is associated with offensive battling, or grass which tends to be connected to defensive, water is viewed as the balance between the two. But, this doesn't really provide any clues into what is the common thread between all these dexholders. My findings, however, were that they all tend to be secretive.

Miss Con Artist (Blue), our first water type dexholder, is literally a con artist. Her whole livelihood is based of lying and keeping the truth about her real intentions to trick people into doing whatever she wants. Plus, she has her own secrets that only come to light much later into her appearance in the first arc and beyond. Her pathological fear of birds is only hinted at during the Team Rocket battle and confirmed during the Pokemon League when battle “Professor O”. Even more shocking was her childhood under the Masked Man, who trained her because of the promise she showed as a trainer.

This transitions nicely to our other dexholder who was raised under the Masked Man, Silver. And he so happens to be a water type dexholder as well. While Silver does not purposely keeping his life before the Masked Man close to his chest, it is revealed that Silver was the son of Giovanni, an insanely big secret that heavily impacted his character.

Ruby, in order to pursue his love of contests and oppose the beliefs of his father, refuses to battle at the beginning of the RS arc. This in turn hides his amazing battling skills (plus the fact he has a FREAKING CELEBI). Additionally, when it comes to the climax of the arc, he hides from Sapphire the plan he had to team up with Courtney to control Groudon and Kyogre. While still intended for her safety, it is still another massive lie and withholding of the truth on his part.

Platinum may not be thought of as being secretive, but the speech she makes after learning Dia and Pearl weren't her bodyguards begs to differ. Most of the lies she reveals in that speech were white lights told to make her not seem inferior and were obvious to the reader, but it still goes to show that she lied a fair amount. Her wealth and connection to the Berlitz family were also discovered rather than told by Platinum. And most obviously, she hid her real name of Platinum until this time! This whole journey, her companions didn't know what her true first name was!

Lack-two or Blake is another dexholder who has lying built into his occupation. Blake is with the International Police and working undercover during the B2W2 arc (Please give us some form of closure! #freeblack2k19). He literally has to keep his true intentions of hunting down the remnants of Team Plasma from his fellow classmates. Additionally, his true personality isn't shown to others either; he puts on a womanizing and flirtatious front when he truly an emotionless officer.

Y is honestly the least secretive out of the water dexholders, but that can also be attributed to her odd Volcanion (a fire-and-water type) fusion. It may not be obvious, or not in a way you expect, but Y does hide something—her feelings. Dealing with the human depression that is X and three of her other friends while trying to all live on their own and dealing with fallout from her mother on top of one of the most cruel evil teams yet? You think she would break down, or someone would help her; but none of the characters we follow demonstrate this concern! theviolenttomboy made a short post that summarizes all the sh*t Y goes through (theviolenttomboy.tumblr.com/post/146359425406/figured-out-why-i-cant-ship-y-with-absolutely), and how she has to deal with it all on her own. In order to keep the group alive, she has to hide her emotional distress. A problem not even resolved by the end of the arc.

Finally, we arrive at the grass type dexholders. Honestly this was the most tricky for me to pin down. Mostly because we have dexholders like Dia and X who have personalities that couldn't seem more different. So, I had to take a look back, and that's when I realized something. Both of the previous characterizations centred around how they achieve their goals. Fire type dexholders barrel through whatever obstacles are in their way and water type dexholders hide information as they pursue their goals. This gave me the clue of what to analyze for the grass type dexholders and this is my conclusion:

The way grass dexholders approach their goals is the most “healthy”. They are able to self-intrinsically motivate themselves when life discourages their goals and try to achieve them in a way that doesn't tend to hurt others as much as the other two dexholder categories (most of the time).

Honestly, this probably reminds you of a generic shonen protagonist, so it is fitting that the dexholder who started this characterization was the most shonen like character of all: Red. Red is able to convince himself to keep working towards his goal of becoming the strongest trainer, despite the obstacles he faces in the form of Team Rocket or people like his rival discouraging him from developing into a stronger trainer. The way he aims to be the strongest also doesn't harm many people, if people are affected, it tends to be accidental.

Crystal manages to stay firm in her goal of catching all the Pokemon even if the other Johto dexholders just see her as a girl at first. She can motivate herself to keep working towards it, and with the caring and give-back nature of Crystal, she is certainly not harming anyone on her path to reaching her goal. Minus a few face kicks to Gold.

Emerald certainly faced a lot of adversity that pushed him down. Becoming an orphan at a young age and made fun of for his small height, initially actually causing him to go against the foundation of grass dexholders being able to motivates themselves by resulting in a dislike of Pokemon and his stature. However, he develops this grass mindset as the Emerald arc progresses, finding what he enjoys, what makes him unique, and cultivating the confidence needed to be himself—even if life is still against him. Plus, while I can't speak for much of his actions in the Emerald arc (because I haven't red FRLG yet, and I know the events are directly connected), his title of the Calmer which stems from his ability to help Pokemon feel relaxed means he is at least not harming Pokemon much during his adventure.

One of the biggest character moments for Diamond is him managing to self-intrinsically motivate himself to pursue a goal despite opposition. In this case, the goal being to stop Team Galactic and his opposition being his best friend Pearl. Regardless, he succeeds in standing up to him and working towards thwarting Team Galactic, with the worst harm caused probably being Pearl's shock at Dia standing up for himself.

White seems to exhibit a peaceful way of pursuing her goal surrounding her talent agency for Pokemon. When her goal switches after Gigi leaves her for a bit, White's new focus on getting stronger at battling is still approached in much the same way. One where she convinces herself to keep working towards improvement and does not negatively affect people along the way.

Then we have the enigma of X. X doesn't seem to follow things of “motivation” or not inadvertently bringing down others with him, but that's only when his goal isn't clear. When we start with X in the XY arc, his goal is to stay in his room; locked away from the outside world. In this context, he meets all the criteria: he ends up convincing himself to work towards his goal of staying a shut-in, despite all the pleas to change this from his friends; and most of his protest to stay inside is silent and doesn't directly or physically harm his friends.

Lastly, our final dexholder is Moon, who also conforms to this characterization fairly well. Moon is able to pursue whatever she considers a priority, unaffected by outside influences. Whether it be praise from her work early on in the SM arc, or not listening to reason before chasing after Sun in the wormholes when he is taken away; leaving Alola to face the Ultra Beasts alone.

tl; dr : Each dexholder approaches their goals differently based on the type of their starter. Fire dexholders have strong enough determination to barrel through all the obstacles to their goal, knocking down everything and everyone in their way. Water dexholders are secretive and hide important information as they work towards their goal. Grass dexholders have the “healthiest” way of reaching their goals, managing to motivate themselves to keep working towards it when life tells them otherwise.

This information may be touched on again in other posts I'm planning: a follow-up talking about the “Bronze-age” progression of dexholder characterization, one about predicting what the Gen 8 protagonists of Pokespe will be like, and another discussing trio characterization.

~Thanks for reading and I'll be back soon!

#pokemon #pokespe #original #analysis

[marveliciousfanfics]

Walk With Me Pt 5

This is my entry for @dinnafashsoldat POC Writing Challenge.

Prompts: “You’re not taking me to bed. Ever.” “Who said it had to be the bed?” and “I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you.” Mexican!OC

A/N: I am a Mexican girl so when I saw this writing challenge I had to get on board. It is going to be about a 5-6 mini series. I love Thor. He’s my favorite! Even over Bucky and Steve because he’s just so…perfect and needs to be protected

It’s almost done! Just one more chapter!

Soccer is life. Or at least it was my life. I truly, wholeheartedly, believed when I was eleven and twelve that I was going to be a soccer player. I lived and breathed for the sport. It was how my father and I got close. He would come to my games and cheered me on. It was how Ernesto and I bonded as well. He and I would talk about players like Americans talk about Football players. With my brother’s death, so did my love for the sport. I couldn’t watch a single game for years. I did move on and eventually watched a game, but it had been bittersweet. . So when I woke up I had a lot of mixed feelings. But I was also excited. Everyone in my family knew how competitive I was.

Then it hit me that not only was I home, but Thor was with me. I turned around and saw that his bed was empty. Panic shot through me as I thought of what could be happening. I heard music coming from the kitchen and almost everyone was up and already in their uniforms. Yes, our family had uniforms. Thor was talking to my brother, well, my brother was talking and Thor was listening. They were all on the round table we’ve had for twenty years and eating eggs with ham, which was what my mom made every morning before a game.

“You’re awake,” Thor beamed from the table his plate cleaned off. “I wanted to wake you, but you were so sound asleep I let you sleep in a little.”

“You sure her loud snores didn’t wake you up?” Betty snickered. I glared at her.

“Shut up.” I muttered and sat down across from Thor. My mom placed a plate in front of me and kissed the top of my head making me smile.

“I had to live with it for all my life,” Betty rolled her eyes.

“You were the crazy sleeper. You started at the top of your bed and somehow ended up at the foot of your head,” I muttered back.

Betty feigned a shock expression and then shrugged. “I still don’t snore like you. Thor, seriously, how do you deal with it?”

“Because your sister’s heart is made of gold and she is passionate about what she does,” he replied. I bit my lip trying not to blush, but it didn’t work. 

“Buenos dias,” my father walked into the kitchen.

“Buenas,” everyone replied as we all used to.

“Buenas,” Thor followed along.

My dad sat next to me and he had a plate in front of him immediately. I reached for the salsa and placed it next to my dad’s plate. He thanked me. I knew he ate almost everything with my mom’s delicious spicy salsa. Breakfast was pretty normal. Almost weird since it had been over six years since we all sat down together. Adding Thor to the mix was exciting.

“Do you remember when Dulce’s 15 it started raining during her pictures?” Junior laughed. “And… her….” he was laughing between words, “hair was…ruined and…she…legit cancelled the party?”

I rolled my eyes. “I tried to, but thankfully the venue let us move the party inside even though we had not paid for that cause it was cheaper to have it outside.”

“Fifteen?” Thor’s forehead crinkled.

“So in our culture—Mexican—and most latinos we have this…rite of passage for women. When they turn 15, we have a party for them to officially introduce them into society,” Betty explained.

“It was a way to let the town know ‘my daughter can marry now’,” Camila grumbled.

“Ay, Camila,” my mother groaned.

Thor still looked confused.

“Camila refused to have a 15th because she believed that it sent women backwards,” I told him.

“It does! Elizabeth is never gonna have one. Unless she wants one, but it’ll be her choice! That’s all I want. For my daughter to have choices,” she explained.

“That’s all we want too,” my dad chimed in. “Ahora, Dulce, cuando te vas a cambiar?”

“Okay, okay, ya voy,” I raised my hands in defense.

**

Once we were at the park the captains of the teams were selected. My brother and her fiancé were selected as captains. Since this whole thing was for them. A coin was tossed to decide who went first to select and my brother won. He took a moment to gloat and then pointed his finger at me. My future sister-in-law groaned.

“That’s not fair! We all know your sister is the star player.”

My brother winked at her. “You lost babe, now choose.”

Melissa crossed her arms across her chest and huffed but her eyes moved as I went to my brother’s side and fist pumped. My competitive side was coming out. Blood was pumping. It wasn’t surprise she chose Thor first since she thinks that because he is a god he is going to give her the advantage. But regardless of mortality he was going to get killed. Soon the teams were picked and I was with Camila. Betty was with Melissa. 

My dad was going to be the referee. There weren’t going to be rules like at a real soccer game but we weren’t allowed to pull on clothes or punch and that had to be a rule because of me. My brother got the team together and told them to clear the way for me. No one objected since they all knew how fierce I got. My blood started to pump faster. It had been years since I played but I had a feeling it was going to be like riding a bike. Thor stood a few feet away from me and I figured they would put the biggest guy to stop me. 

“This is a friendly game, no?” He asked and I shrugged.

“Depends on your version of friendly, Thor,” I watched as my brother and Melissa went to the middle of the field and my dad placed the ball in the middle. There was another coin toss that Melissa won. The ball was hers and then my mind switched. She passed it to Betty and I went after her. Thor was clearly behind me but I was too quick and maneuvered my way through everyone else it wasn’t long before I was by the goalie and it was Betty as the goalie. Her eyes widened at me, and my body moved on it’s own and I barely saw her cringe as I kicked the ball in her direction and she ducked because it was headed straight to her face. It went in and my team erupted in cheer. I waved at Betty as she glared at me. She knew that I knew that she would rather duck than let the ball hit her. 

“That was amazing!” Thor beamed. “I’ve never seen you move so fast!”

I winked at him and went back to my side. Thor did his best to kick the ball but he was using too much force and it would go way over the net. My brother had to go almost across the park to get the ball back. Thor was still on my trail when I had the ball and he did try to get it from me but I tricked him and kicked the ball between his leg and twirled around him and continued to go down to their post and made another goal. 

“Goooooooool!” My brother cheered and high fives me. 

All my brothers team had to do was pass the ball to me and I made the goals. Before half time we had 5. Then we took our break. I went over my to mom and she handed me a Gatorade. 

“Como siempre muy buen echo, mija,” she kissed my cheek. Her eyes widened behind me and then there was a shadow over me. I looked over my shoulder as I opened my Gatorade. 

“Is there something you haven’t told me?” He narrowed his eyes. My mom offered him a drink and he changed his demeanor and thanked her for being concerned. My mom blushed and giggled a “You’re welcome.”

I turned around with a smirk. “Is the mighty Thor hurt he is losing to a mere midgardian?”

“I am not ashamed to admit defeat when I know it is fair but you are moving as if you are gifted. Are you like Steve?”

I chuckled and took a sip of my drink. His eyes watched me and I didn’t back down. I finished and closed my drink.

“Thor, I am not a super soldier. I’m just simply using my god given gifts. Plus you’re a sore loser. You hate playing pool with Tony because he always beats you. And don’t get me started on Monopoly.”

“That game is evil!”

“Clint is surprisingly good at that game.”

“Yes he is.”

At the end my team—I mean my brother’s team won. Meaning I won. Thor was out of breath. I did admit that he picked it up rather quickly. It was fun to play against him. He was still a sore loser because when my father called the game was over. He still asked for ten more minutes, but we all needed to get home. On the drive back Thor was sulking.

“Are you really going to be like this?” I asked with a laugh.

“You have seriously held back from us, Dulce. You moved like…whoa…I bet you would give Steve…how do you say…a run for his money?”

I laughed. “That’ll be a sight to see. But I know you were holding back.”

“Okay maybe a bit, but you truly impressed me, Dulce. But your sister did mention she was surprised you were still good even though it’s been years.”

I looked out the window and sighed. “I’m sure you’ve deducted…what has happened…with my family. Why I understood you when you lost Loki. His name is—was Ernesto. He was the youngest.” I took a long breath. “He…died…in New York. He had gone with his high school friends and my parents didn’t want him to go, but I convinced them to let him go. I had missed out on my opportunity to please them and I didn’t want that for him. So he went…and he got…trapped under a building during…you know…” I shrugged. “He had gone back to try to help a friend from under debris and the building collapsed.”

I wiped away the tears. “He…his death…broke us. Broke me. I felt…guilty. I let him go and there was no one there to protect him.”

“Dulce,” Thor reached for my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Look…my dad blamed SHIELD for my brother’s death. Once all the files became public, he was furious. And I had joined them and worked for them. He was even more livid that I didn’t come home straight after it was found out Hydra was behind Shield all along. But I just couldn’t go back.”

I stopped myself. I was oversharing and I felt like I was unloading on him. It wasn’t fair.

“That’s a lot for one person to keep to their-self. Have you talked to anyone else about this?”

I scoffed. “Not really. I mean I have my sisters and my brother, but I don’t think they understand what I felt when we got the news about Ernesto,” I looked down to my hands and played with the cuticles.

“We all deal with death differently. But I hope you no longer feel guilty about your brother. It had nothing to do with you letting him go. Knowing this I want to ask forgiveness from your family. After all it was my brother who brought chaos to New York.”

I blinked not realizing what he meant for a long moment and then it snapped. “Thor, I have never blamed you. I know you tried to stop him. Reason with him.”

“Thank you for your forgiveness, Dulce. And if Loki was alive, I would make him apologize to your family.”

“Just don’t bring it up, Thor. My family doesn’t like to talk about it. It starts arguments and with your presence it wouldn’t be pretty. Please let’s just enjoy the party tonight and then we can go back to the compound and put this all behind us.”

**

I shouldn’t have said anything. Once we got back home, I went straight to the shower. I was covered in sweat, mud and grass stains. It had felt so good to play again. I always thought soccer was going to be my life. I had breathed and lived for it. Then death sure makes you look at things differently.

It wasn’t like we lost someone before. I’ve had cousins and uncles pass away, but we all knew this was different. There was a reason our family didn’t stray too far from each other. If I had the time stone, I would go back and go to New York with Ernesto. I’d protect him. He had a brighter future than I did. He had the brains. He had dreams. I just wanted to play soccer. That wasn’t much compared to what he could have done.

That is what I felt guilty for. I felt like I had robbed the world of a brilliant mind. I always found showers to be the best time to have a break down, so I had one. I let out all of my frustrations. Lying to my family. Seeing Bruno so broken because of what I did. Reminding myself what my little brother could have done.

When I was done—I had changed in the restroom—I went back to my old room. I thought I would find Thor, but when I looked out the window I saw that he was helping set up. He was the tallest so they had him hold the balloons so they could tape it. I chuckled at the sight of Thor just casually holding the arch of balloons while my father was on a step ladder reaching on his tippy toes.

I watched for a while. Whatever my father and Thor were talking about was something good. My father was smiling and it had been a long time since I saw that smile.

“Mija?” I heard from my door. I turned and saw my mom with her makeup already one and the hot curls still on and in her robe.

“Hola, ma,” I went to her and hugged her tightly. Nothing like a mother’s hug to make things better.

“No te vas a poner lista?” she asked if I was going to get ready but I didn’t let go of her and she rubbed my back.

“In a bit,” I replied and placed my cheek on her shoulder and inhaled her scent.

“Estoy feliz que tienes alguien con quien eres feliz,” she said she was happy that I was with someone who made me happy.

“Ma…” I started, but then we were interrupted by Camila. I had wanted to come clean. I knew she would understand. But then I did have to get ready. This was for my brother. I knew committing was a huge thing for him.

I had to support him. I needed to put my own shit away. When I was doing my makeup Thor was back, but because he had been out in the sun he was sweaty all over again. I nearly dropped my blending brush as I watched him remove his shirt and used it to wipe away the sweat off his forehead, face and his neck.

He caught me and grinned.

“Your father was telling me you know how to play guitar. That he taught you.”

I half smiled remembering the lessons and how tough of a teach my dad was, but I truly wanted to learn because he was so good.

“Yeah, I do.”

“You should play tonight,” he smiled.

I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”

“Come on, do it for me? Your wonderful boyfriend?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Fake boyfriend.” I corrected.

“You owe me for this and the way to repay me is to hear you play,” he turned a little serious, so I sighed.

“Fine. You gonna shower now?”

“Unless you wish to continue googling me, woman,” he winked at me.

I rolled my eyes, but I felt the blush on my cheeks. I wish I had done my foundation so he wouldn’t have seen me. He got his stuff and a towel and left.

I released a breath. God, he made me so nervous. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered. I shook my head and got myself back to the present. But I did like that he made me smile. Made me forget my shit.

I finished my makeup and moved on to my hair. Half way through my hair Thor was back. And to think he looked sexy in sweat he looked even sexier with droplets of water going down his chest, between his abs, and pecs. Flashes of us fooling around in my bed went through my head. Passionate kissing and passionate lovemaking. Screaming his name. I wondered how big he was. Would I be able to take him? God, how long had it been since I got laid?

Years. I had toys, but I was sure whatever I had would never compare. Like he was reading my mind his eyes met mine on the mirror of my vanity. The air in the room changed. He smiled and I felt my insides melt. That smile of his was going to be the death of me. I jumped when there was a feedback sound. It brought us out of the trance, and I turned to my window.

The music was starting and I could smell the food as well.

“I’ll go get changed at the restroom,” he took his things and that might have been my chance to stop him, but I let him go. He gave me one more glance, but I kept my lips shut. I felt my heart sink. Did I just miss my chance? Probably. Maybe I just reading the signs wrong.

I finished getting ready. I got my dress and placed it on. It was heart shaped burgundy dress that reached my knees. I paired it with black heels. Since the party was right outside I didn’t take the coat I brought with me.

It had been ages since I went all the way for a party. Not even for Tony’s parties. This color of the dress reminded me of a coat Thor once wore. Right when Ultron attacked. I had admired him from afar. He had made that coat look so sexy. I chuckled to myself. Here I was pretending to be his girl.

I walked out of my room and ran into my brother.

“Whoa, look who is back from the dead,” he joked. I rolled my eyes at him. “Seriously, I hardly recognized you. Thanks for coming, Dulce.”

“Of course. You’re my brother. It was time to end the streak,” I shrugged. “I know how you feel about Melissa. She’s the one.”

My brother blushed and nodded. “Yes. she is. Don’t tell ma or pa, but…she might be pregnant.”

My eyes widened. “Seriously?! Oh my God!”

“I know! But we are not sure. If she is, we might just speed up the wedding, so she can wear the dress she wants. You and Thor gonna be free in a month or two?”

#luce’s first writing challenge #luce’s poc! writing challenge #thor x oc #Thor Odinson #marveliciousfanfics #marvel #fanfiction #writing

[papergardener]

Who Tells Your Story Ch 2

About to post the new chapters (4 & 5) soon, so figured I may as well post here before I forget. 

Basic summary: Everyone wants to know what Hector’s been up to since his death, and some tabloids are going to make it much more dificult.

If you want to read on Ao3: Chapter 1 (link)   Chapter 2 (link)

November 1925 Héctor stood beneath the dark and worn gateway of the Land of the almost-Forgotten, carrying all that he owned in the world, and entirely unable to move. Somehow, impossibly, this place was to be his new home. It wasn’t right! he thought as he watched skeletons move in the distance amidst the crumbling buildings. They looked as worn and dusty as the world around them, as if everything had been dipped in gray.

This wasn’t fair! he wanted to shout, biting his lip as he looked out at the dark and dismal land stretching out into the distance, growing darker still in the fading light. He didn’t belong there, it couldn’t be right. Yet another Dia de Los Muertos had passed, and for the fourth time he couldn’t cross over the Marigold Bridge. There had been murmurings for a while, from roommates to other musicians to the landlord who had finally kicked him out of the shabby little apartment he had lived in since arriving. He knew the rumors. Some people thought he was lying about his family, or had lied about how much his wife loved him. Or, worst of all, teased him that his wife must have moved on and found another man to keep her company. He found it hard to argue against because the truth was he didn’t know why he couldn’t cross. His wife, his daughter, his friends and family… surely they still remembered him. They couldn’t have forgotten him so soon. But then why had no one put up his photo? Or left an offering at his grave? No path of marigolds, no songs, no gifts of pan de muerto.

Nothing. Why didn’t anyone seem to care that he had died? He stood there, impossibly lost and alone, a ghost among ghosts. His guitar grew heavy in his hand, his shoulder began to ache from the bag slung over it, and the sun crept lower in the sky. With a final deep breath, he straightened his back and passed through the entrance into the depths of the Underworld. Somehow, somewhere, he would need to find a place he could call home. At the very least, a place to lay down for the night, out of the wind and weather. It was no small task. He didn’t know who to talk to, or where to go, with no friend or family or home amongst the dead. But then, of course, if he did have any of those things, he wouldn’t be down there. His feet moved him further along the muddy pathways, even as his mind screamed to turn and never come back. But still he walked on, sometimes slipping around festering puddles or over crude bridges where water still remained from the rainy season. Everything seemed worn down and rotting, like that was their natural state, strangely constant in a world that was anything but. Where was he supposed to go? “Ah, excuse me!” he called to a couple of men chatting outside a shack. Both paused, took one look at him, and frowned. “What do you want?” one asked in a gruff, low voice. “I’m looking for, uh… well, I’m not sure. I just got here and have no idea where to go. Can you—“ “That way.” The other man pointed down a road. “Oh… gracias!” Héctor said cheerfully, his smile perhaps a bit too forced as the men scowled after him. Once he was past them he glanced back and wondered what he had said wrong. Perhaps newcomers weren’t welcome there, he thought as he made his way down the path, holding tight to his guitar, thankful he had been able to scrounge enough to get a case for it as he moved around a pile of rubbish in the street. A woman slowly walked past him, leaning heavily on a gnarled stick, her bones soft and gray like old wood. Glancing down at his own white bones, he wondered how long until that would be his fate. Was it true that just being there would make one’s bones turn gray and dusty? It was said that things decayed faster there: spirits, homes, and everything else. Food would rot, paper turn to dust, wood would warp and disintegrate. And souls would simply vanish, disappear in a cloud of gold dust, and their names would be forgotten for eternity. Was that his fate? Time and again he paused, gazed backwards, and then forced himself to keep going. There must be somewhere for him to go, although he grew increasingly pessimistic. He had hoped to find some friendly spirits in the worn down place, but everywhere he looked people seemed to look at him with suspicion and a chilly silence. Anyone that he asked simply pointed him in the same direction, and so he kept walking, feeling small and alone. He still didn’t understand where he was even going. Could he have taken a wrong path? “Hey, you there!” Héctor looked up from staring at his feet, and saw a few skeletons sitting on a raised porch. They were all looking towards him, and he pointed to himself with a questioning look. “Yeah, you! You a músico? Know how to play that guitar?” one man called out and waved a hand, beckoning him over. “Uh… sí. I was a musician when I died. And I can play pretty well.” “You know any good songs?” another skeleton said, eyeing him almost greedily. “Any corridos? La Rielera? El Cuartelazo?” “What about Panchovilla?” another called out. “Sí, sí, I know those… Some of them… a little.” Honestly, he knew bits and pieces but didn’t know those kinds of corridos too well, since he had managed to avoid the worst of the revolution. He had been young when he had fought in it himself, just a child. Still, he had picked up some songs, and after traveling with Ernesto through town after town in Mexico, he had picked up quite a few more over the years. “That’s great! Hey, you looking for a place to stay?” The first man got up from where he had been slouching against a post. “What? How did you know?” Héctor asked as he came to the little porch. “Ahh, it’s obvious! Look at you, muchacho, you look like a stray dog wandering about. Come on, I’m sure we can find you someplace to stay.” “R-really?” Héctor said, and felt a smile on his face. Had he found his new home? Just like that? He followed the other man into the large, two-story building and was stunned to find others that looked like him. All around were young men, and some women, with strong white bones, looking jovial, and as alive as the dead could be. “Hey, I got us a músico!” the man called out as soon as they entered a wide, low-ceilinged room full of smoke and men’s laughter. Héctor had to blink through the fog and saw others all around as the man dragged him in by the arm towards a man seated on a low chair like the throne of a foreign king. “That’s Javier,” the man said in a low voice. “He’ll decide if you can stay or not, ya get me?” Héctor barely managed to nod before they were standing before him. “Who the fuck is this pendejo?” the seated man said, looking Héctor up and down with a stern eye. “New friend of yours, Pedro?” “Just picked him up off the street,” Pedro said, slapping Héctor on the back and shoving him forward. “Says he knows how to play guitar, and he’s looking for a place to stay.” “Uh… hi there,” Héctor said, waving a hand and feeling like he was very much in the wrong place. The man rose to his feet, looked him up and down, and then gave him a toothy grin, sticking out a hand for a firm shake. “A músico, eh? Well then, make yourself at home! We lost our last one not long ago. It’ll be good to have someone who actually knows what he’s doing.” “Really? I-I can stay? That’s great! Ay, ay, I thought I wouldn’t find anywhere to stay.” A flare of hope flickered within him. Maybe he could do this, after all. “Fate must have brought you here,” Javier said, throwing an arm around him and waving about the room. “We may not have much, but we make do.” Héctor would have liked to ask more, but Javier merely sat back and waved a hand, dismissing him. When he turned, he found Pedro has disappeared from his side, and no one else was remotely familiar. He picked up his guitar case and just barely stepped away before he was stopped again. “So you’re joining us, hombre?” another man said, coming up and nodding amiably. He was short, dressed in the same dusty-tawny clothing as many of the others, and had a bandage around one bare arm. “Good to hear it. I’m Alvaro, mucho gusto!” Héctor shook his hand and introduced himself, thankful there were at least some friendly faces. Alvaro nodded with apparent understanding, and said, “Shantytown’s a tough place. We gotta stick together, che. And I can tell you’re another like us.” “Eh? Like you?” “Sure!” he said, grinning widely and gesturing to the other skeletons, many with pale bones, ragged clothes, and bare feet. “Another poor soul here too early. Your living family forsake you then, eh?” “Well, no, that’s not—“ And ya ain’t got no familia in the Dead, either, I bet, or you’d be with them.” Héctor had less to say to that, and closed his mouth. Alvaro laughed at his expression, clapping him on the back. “Ah, don’t worry about it, kid. The rest of the Dead may turn up their noses, but we get you.” Héctor wanted to argue. He wanted to say that, no, he wasn’t being forgotten, that there was clearly some misunderstanding because… well, he didn’t really know. But before he could speak, there was a shout interrupting his thoughts. “Come on, músico, play something!” a man called out, and there were a chorus of agreement and curious looks. Héctor looked out at his eager audience and felt excitement like he hadn’t felt in months as he pulled his guitar out and strummed a familiar chord. “Señoras y señores, Buenas tardes, buenas—“ He stopped singing abruptly, at hearing the shouts and disgruntled noises from all around. “The hell is that?” “Fuck that noise! Play something we know!” “What corridos you got?” This kind of audience. His eye twitched, but he took a breath and smiled. One thing he had learned while being on the road with Ernesto was how to put on a show. With a quick strum he rolled his shoulders and started over, singing one he was sure they’d know, and began “La Valentina” to approving hoots. He could do this, he thought to himself as he sang out the lyrics, soon joined by many others. He played song after song, getting one request after another and maneuvering around the ones he wasn’t as confident with. Songs about famous generals and battles, lost love and beautiful girls, and melancholy life. As he did, he took note of his new home. It was a well-built place with white-washed walls and well-scuffed floors, and in the corner a staircase to the second floor. Many of the men looked like revolutionaries, some with wide sombreros, others with bandoliers crossing their chest, including one soldaderas who wore her rebozo shawl crossed instead. There were other skeletons in skirts, although they kept quiet and skittered to and from, heads bowed low. They reminded him fiercely of the viejas, the camp followers during the Revolution, and it was somewhat distracting. They looked quietly unhappy, he thought, and that seemed a warning sign. However, the men were friendly enough, certainly more amiable than the rest of Shantytown that he had seen. Some offered him tobacco and macuche, which he declined for how difficult it was to sing with, or their canteens, which he accepted. The night seemed to go on and on, and very quickly he grew tired, but kept playing. “Perdoname, I just need a break,” he would say, and then get called to play one more song. It took a few tries and something like pleading, but finally he was able to escape as the last of men dispersed, and he let his fake grin drop and his shoulders slump forward. He had always disliked these kinds of performances, where he had to actually act and work at it. Ernesto probably would have done better there, he thrived in that environment. For a moment Héctor was struck by the pain of missing his brother. Would he still be playing music? Did he ever achieve his dream? There was always a guilt lodged in his heart for abandoning his family. But there was another one for abandoning his closest friend. So many regrets. There was so much he had wanted to do. So much he had wanted to be… He pushed aside those familiar, lingering thoughts, and went to find someplace quiet, which wasn’t all that hard. So late at night, most of the men were already asleep and strewn about the floor, although a handful played card around a little lamp, half-stifled with smoke. It was far later than usual, but that was all right, he still had a promise to keep. He sat down against a wall, sighing as he realized how much his legs hurt from standing all day. Setting the guitar in his lap, he plucked familiar chord and it relieved some of the tension that had been building in his shoulders. Softly, low under his breath, he sang the familiar words of Coco’s song, unheard by anyone else under the general noise. Things weren’t great. They couldn’t be, considering he was dead and away from his loved ones. But at least he had a new place to stay, perhaps even new friends. True, they were a bit on the rough side, but at least they had an appreciation for good music, right? And they seemed friendly enough. And no matter what anyone else could do or say, he still had his song and the hope that one day things would get better.

#Coco #Hector #Imelda #Coco fanfiction #Who Tells Your Story #my writing #chapter update #chapter 2 #WTYS #Shantytown #character backstory

[wingsofanillyrian]

The Wedding (Part 2)

Find part 1 here!

I’ve decided this will probably end up being 5 to 6 parts, but I can’t promise how often I’ll be able to update it!

Masterlist

Rowan

The ceremony wasn’t anything grand. Aelin was concerned about using her citizens taxes to fund any part of the festivities that weren’t open to the general public, so we scraped together what we could, and with the help of our friends, were able to create something wonderful.

I stood at the altar at the Temple of Mala Firebringer, my back to the small crowd of our closest friends. The temple had been beautifully decorated with swaths of brightly colored silk that stood out starkly against the white marble of the structure. The priestess that was officiating our marriage stood in front of Mala’s eternal fire, which was maintained by those who worshipped her. Copper powder had been sprinkled on the flames earlier that morning, giving them their distinct green color.

As the seconds ticked by, I got more and more nervous. I fiddled with my cufflink, hoping no one would notice my nerves. She should have been here three minutes ago. Where was she? Did she suddenly decide that she didn’t-

I breathed a small sigh of relief as the soft notes of the wedding march flitted through the chamber. I heard everyone shuffling in their seats, twisting for a better view of the wedding party. Because some damned old tradition forbade me from turning around, I closed my eyes to picture the scene unfolding behind me.

Lysandra would be the first to enter, wearing her lovely lacy gown. She’d picked it out specifically to taunt Aedion, she told me. My lips twitched upward in a tiny grin as I pictured his face when he saw it.

Evangeline would follow the shifter, hand in hand with Dorian and Manon’s small son, Henry. Each would bear one of our rings, carried with the utmost care. I heard a small gasp and the unmistakable high-pitched ping! of metal bouncing on marble. The little prince must have accidentally dropped the ring, but soon recovered it, judging by the light laugh Dorian gave. Henry took his place by my right side, and I opened my eyes to peek at him. He grinned up at me, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. I winked, letting him know it was okay and he giggled.

I turned back to the priestess, fiddling with my fingers anxiously. Aelin would enter last, led down the aisle by Aedion. The murmurs from those gathered behind me alerted me to her arrival, and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to turn around right then.

A few moments later, I sensed her warmth behind me and I looked up at the priestess for confirmation. She nodded, a warm smile on her face. Slowly, I turned to face my mate.

I was left utterly speechless.

She was beautiful, clad in silk gown of deepest green. The long, fitted sleeves couldn’t hide the corded muscle that I knew lay beneath. The close cut of the bodice told me that the dress was most likely backless, and I wasn’t surprised. I hungrily drank in the sight of her, my gaze lapping up each of her delicious curves. I must have looked a bit too hungry, because Aedion cleared his throat pointedly.

I glanced at him, and he offered me Aelin’s hand, which I took gently in mine. “Take care of her,” he murmured, and I nodded.

“I always will.” Together, we stepped onto the raised dias to begin the ceremony.

“We gather here today, with Mala as our witness…” I was distantly aware of the priestess’ booming voice filing the antechamber. My attention was fixed wholly on my mate, who fidgeted as if to say What do you think?

Ravishing, I told her with the raise of a silver brow. My eyes drifted to her plunging neckline, and she lightly squeezed my fingers.

My eyes are up here, you buzzard. I had to bite my lip to contain my laughter.

Honestly. You’re gorgeous.

You aren’t so bad yourself. She wiggled her eyebrows as she looked me up and down. But I bet that suit will look better on the bedroom fl-

“And now the couple will exchange vows. Rowan?”

Giving Aelin an innocent smile, as if she hadn’t just been seducing me moments before. I gulped, regaining my wits and releasing her hand to pull the note from my pocket. My vows had taken me forever to write.

I employed the help of all my brothers, each one of them telling me what they thought I should include. Their ideas served as my baseboard, but what I wrote in the end was uniquely mine. I must have gone through six or seven drafts before I felt confident that they accurately conveyed what I felt for my queen. I cleared my throat and turned to face her fully.

“Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.” I reached for her hand, searching her face for any last-minute doubt or regret. When I found only overwhelming amounts of love and excitement shining in her beautiful gold-ringed eyes, I began.

“When we first met, I was lost, but too stubborn and broken to admit it to myself. I hid behind my mask of cruelty and ice, and you only burrowed further into your despair.” I paused, squeezing her hand.

“But then something changed. You taught me how to heal. You taught me what it was to love again, and be loved in return. I know you don’t believe it, but you saved me. And it is because of that love that I want to promise you a few things.” Aelin tilted her head to the side, and I could read the unspoken question in her eyes. I only smiled and continued.

“I promise you the first bite of my meat and the first sip from my cup. I pledge to you my life and my death, each equally under your protection. I will be the shield at your back and the sword in your hand on the battlefield that is life. I promise to forever be yours, to have and to hold, to whatever end.”

“Above all else, I promise you your freedom. I swear that I will never infringe upon your right to make your own choices, and I swear to support you in all that you do. I promise I always love you, Aelin; my carranam, my mate, and my one true love.”

“These are my vows to you, my Fireheart. Will you have me as your husband?”

“I will.”

Evangeline brought me Aelin’s ring, a teardrop shaped aquamarine symbolizing my ice cradled in a silver setting. I remember being shocked when she suggested it, but then again Aelin was always a bit of a rebel. I slipped the ring on the ring finger of her left hand, conjuring a cool breeze to kiss her burning skin.

A tear traced down her cheek, and I brushed it away with my thumb. She let out a watery laugh and cursed under her breath. I snuck a glance over her shoulder to Lysandra- she was crying too. Well, this certainly hadn’t been my intention. At least they were happy tears, I thought, because I couldn’t scent any discomfort in the room.

“Aelin, your vows?” the priestess chimed in, spreading her hands wide.

Aelin swiped at her face, smiling wide once more before taking my hands and looking up at me with those wonderful Ashryver eyes.

“Rowan Buzzard Whitethorn.” Our friends and family chuckled at the old joke, but Aelin’s unblinking eyes remained fixed on my pine green ones.

“I cannot promise you my spirit, for I am my own commander. And I cannot offer you my soul, for I am a free woman.” She gulped, and I understood why she needed to say those words. They were rooted in the time she spent a slave to Arobynn and the late King of Adarlan, both of whom had broken her spirit and stolen her soul.

“But I can offer you my heart. It was never really mine to begin with; in a way, it has always belonged to you. You saved me too, in those dark forests of Mistward. You never gave up on me, even when I had given up on myself. You helped me regain what I had lost. You rediscovered my soul and picked up the broken pieces of my spirit and patched them back together.” Aelin inhaled shakily, gathering her thoughts before speaking again.

“I pledge that your eyes will forever be the ones I smile into each morning, and your name the only one on my tongue when I cry out in the night. You are the sun on my face, the wind in my hair, and the blood that flows in my veins.”

“You are my carranam and my mate, Rowan Whitethorn, and I promise you my love until my dying breath. Will you have me as your wife?”

“I will.”

And then I was crying. Not in the way that Aelin had, gracefully with just a single tear. Saltwater ran liberally down my cheeks as I gazed upon my mate and felt the truth in her words. How? How had I ever gotten so lucky? She was the only one that knew every inch of my soul and had not balked from it. I never thought that I would find another after Lyria; I had been so broken and hurt.

But then I met Aelin.

And she had chosen me to be her equal and her beloved, and I knew that I could never love another the way that I love her.

“Are you okay?” She whispered, and I could only nod. She tilted her head to the side and smiled, sending sparks tingling through my senses. Evangeline handed her the ring, which she took and slid onto my ring finger. The silver band was warm against my skin, and the three fiery rubies inlaid upon it shone in the waning light of day.

I was too enraptured with the moment to notice the priestess’s words. Her voice was no more but a buzz in my ears, but Aelin’s laugh may as well have been sheet music.

“This is the part where you kiss me,” she stage whispered, standing up on her tiptoes so her perfect pink lips were inches from mine. I bracketed my arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground as I covered those sweet lips with my own.

My brother’s roars were distinct over the others cheers, telling us to get a room. Aelin and I didn’t care, though. Her hands found the nape of my neck, swiping her tongue across my bottom lip. Only then did I pull back with a laugh and rest my forehead on hers.

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“Rowan, we have to go to the reception!”

“They can wait a few minutes.”

Before she could protest, I swept her into my arms and carried her swiftly back down the aisle and into the waiting carriage.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #manorian #lysaedion #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #my writing

[a-pretty-nerd]

~Golden Passion~

Chapter 2 💟

A Jasper Jordan x reader 1920s Au

Concept: Imagine you are the new, young wife of an old Millionaire. And Jasper is your butler, who you start having a dirty and passionate affair with.

A/N:Im so glad you guys liked the first Chapter! I am still taking requests, though because of my new series, and current events in my life. I will be picky about the requests I take. With each chapter, a moodboard will be posted before the release of each on that illudes to the events and surrounding of said chapter. My new series Pages, will always be presented this way.

Warnings: None, again. I know. Weird.

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You awoke the next morning in your king size bed, alone. Some part of you had hoped you’d wake up to your husband. The sunlight of the warm morning illuminated your large master bedroom. You stretched and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. Never before had you slept so well. Perhaps it was the sill sheets or the expensive mattress made for royalty. You dressed in a lovely day dress and took your time doing your hair and makeup. After all, it was one of your duties now. As the wife of Howard Gould, you were expected to give a stunning presentation. There was a knock at the door.

“Mrs?” A man’s voice came from behind. “May I come in?”

“Oh! Yes, yes. Come in.” Jasper slowly opened the door and entered. Be greeted you formally, and stood up tall and at attention as his eyes flickered over you.

“Mr. Gould has asked that I fetch you. He has guests.”

“I’ll be right down.” You smiled, your heart fluttering at just the sight of him. He nodded his head, before turning to leave. Only to stop by the door, and look back at you. His eyes traveled up your body as you turned to check your reflection in the mirror.

“If I may be so bold, Mrs.” His voice was shaky, nervous. “You look divine.” You turned to him, your lips parting in shock. He swallowed, not being able to believe he had spoken so out of turn. So, inappropriate. His cheeks went bright pink, as he went red.

“Thank you, Jasper.” You smiled again, surprised. He nodded again and closed the door behind him. You looked back at your reflection. Your heart racing in your chest as you processed the scene that just played. You stood a little straighter. A little more, proud. As you walked out into the hall and into the main room. You walked down the steps as Mr. Gould noticed you.

“There she is!” He shouted, holding a drink up in your direction. Before him, a handful of men, all over the age of 40. With wives about your age on their arms. “My beautiful wife!” You smiled brightly as you made your way closer to him. He wrapped an around you and held you close. “This, my comrades! Is the new Mrs. Howard Gould.”

“You can call me Y/N.” You shyly spoke with the same smile.

“My my, what a prize you’ve got there.” One of his colleagues commented.

“Indeed. A gorgeous specimen.” Another leaned forward before his wife angrily, but gently bat him with a “hmph!”

“Darling, why don’t you ladies stay here. While the um, men, step into the parlor for a drink?” He let go of you and walked away with his little group of old businessmen. Leaving you and your fellows wives in the same room, alone. Other than Jasper, who stood tall against a wall. There, if needed. You glanced to look at him every now and again. As he watched you.

“Well, Y/N, you’ve certainly caught yourself a fat cat.” One of the girls chuckled, she introduced herself as she sat on a gold lined couch. Oleta Melone. She turned her head to Jasper. “A drink.” She demanded. Jasper quickly nodded before moving to another room to fetch it for her.

“Indeed. What a lucky one you are.” The second girl agreed. “I’m Alice. Pitson’s wife.”

“A pleasure.” You continued to smile. Trying to be the best hostess you could.

“You’ll be seeing a lot of us from now on. The men get together at least once a week. We know this house better than you do.” The third girl, Dia. She walked around the room, her heels clicking against the marble.

“Pay them no mind, Y/N. They’re just jealous. They all tried to grab your husband before settling for theirs. Before you came along of course.” The final girl, Clarke spoke. Jasper entered the room, grabbing your attention again. You watched him give each wife a drink. Including you. You took it from his gloved hand, your heart skipped a beat when his fingers just grazed yours. He exited again to put away the tray.

“I suppose he is quite the catch.” You spoke, and the girls laughed. You were confused. Was a wife not supposed to talk up her husband?

“Indeed he is.” Oleta chuckled before taking a drink. Clarke scolded her.

“I don’t understand, what was so funny?”

“There's no need to pretend with us, dear. We’re all in the same boat.” Alice spoke.

“Only some people’s boats are nicer than others.” Oleta poked.

“You’re new, but you’ll learn,” Clarke reassured.

“Learn what?”

“The tricks of the trade.” Dia sang, raising up her glass.

“How to keep a secret.”

“The wife of a rich man must be cunning.” Alice and Oleta spoke one after the other with grins on their perfectly painted faces.

“I’m…confused.” You sat down in a chair and crossed your ankles.

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, have you?”

“I guess not.”

“You think, you’ve hit it big. You’ve married yourself a King and now you’ll live happily ever after in paradise?” Oleta spoke, condescending. “Well, there's no such this as paradise. Not even for us rich folks. Especially us wives.”

“Hush, Oleta. You’ll scare her.” Clark scolded.

“You’ve married yourself, an infertile.” Dia blurted.

“A what?”

“Your husband, he’s infertile. It means, he cannot give you a child. Nor does he have much of a desire to produce one.” Alice crossed her legs and took a drink.

“H-How do you know this?” You asked.

“His wife before you, she told us.”

“Not the first one to have told us either.” Oleta giggled.

“How many wives has Howard had?” The girls shrugged.

“We’re not entirley sure.”

“You’re the fourth since I’ve been around.” Oleta was the eldest of the group. Closest age to her husband than the others. In her thirties.

“What happened to them?” The room went silent for a moment.

“Y/N. As wives, of the rich man, you must know. We are disposable. They do not marry us for our hearts but for our bodies. Our appearance. It takes very little for a rich man to divorce you.”

“Or kill you,” Oleta muttered.

“Oleta!” Clarke shouted.

“What? It’s true!”

“We don’t know that for sure!”

“Killed?” Your eyes went wide.

“His last wive…past away young. Under mysterious circumstances. It was written off as a rare illness.” Alice continued. The room went silent again. As if a moment, just for her.

“But that shouldn’t stop you from having fun!” Oleta encouraged.

“Oh yes! Don't be afraid to…venture out.” Again, they made everything so confusing.

“I…don’t-”

“We are sexual creatures just as men are, Y/N. Your husband is incapable of treating you as such. Most of ours are.”

“You mean…you’re having an affair?” Each girl nodded, some with a smile. You gasped.

“Don’t be so old fashioned! There is no shame in keeping yourself, healthy. After all, no rich man can have a sickly wife!” Dia chimed. “Young men make incredible lovers.” She whispered.

“There's no need to be shy around us with that sort of thing. My lover is our gardener.” Alice smiled.

“Mine is our pool boy,” Dia whispered, loudly.

“My husband’s adult son is better than he’ll ever be.” Oleta grinned. That was the only one you found to be to a little, wrong. The three turned to Clarke.

“And have you nabbed that stallion yet?” Dia asked. Clarke looked down and smiled, shyly. She looked back and nodded slowly. The group of girls went up in celebration.

“Finally! You’ve had your eye on him for years! What was his name again?”

“Bellamy.” She squeaked.

“Congratulations.” You joined in, trying to be accepted. The conversation brought something to mind. You looked around and found Jasper standing and waiting. As would be common from that point on. Your cheeks went pink again. If, they encouraged you to cheat on your husband. Perhaps…no. No no no. You had always promised yourself to be a loyal and good wife. For whoever you married. Even if, he couldn’t satisfy you. Even with this in mind, a part of you would bet that Jasper could. He may have been sweet, and innocent, but behind that, you imagined a passionate frenzy.

The rest of the day ended with a grand party thrown by your husband in your honor. Large groups of people arrived. You were swimming in a pool of strangers that covered nearly every inch of the house. All dressed in sparkling evening wear. After your Mr. made a toast, you wiggled your way into a secluded hallway. You took deep breathes as you finished your champaign to dull your nerves. Your moment was interrupted when you heard quick footsteps down the hallway. You snapped up to attend, to find Jasper rushing down the hallway. Poor boy had been working his ass off all night for your guests along with the rest of the staff. He paused when he saw you. He stopped right in front of you. His eyes met yours, and you froze again. Why were you so struck by this young man? He was a butler for christ’s sake.

“May I take that away for you, Mrs?” He asked. You shook yourself awake. You looked down at the empty glass in your hand.

“Oh, yes. Please.” He bowed his head as he took it from you. He took a few steps away, before stopping. You watched him, confused. Before he quickly turned back and in one swift motion Jasper’s lips were on yours and his free hand was on your waist, pulling you into him. Immediately your eyes closed and you kissed back. As if by instinct. Sparks flew in your heart, and your mind went entirely blank. Nothing else mattered other than the softness of his lips, and the way he held you. He pulled away and exhaled. Your eyes kept close, as he rested his head against yours. You felt a fire growing in your stomach. As a loud sound was made from the main room. Jasper’s eyes shot open, and he turned in that direction. His heart racing a thousand miles an hour. Beating so fast, so hard, it stung. He just wanted you, as you wanted him. He couldn’t explain why. Neither could you. He looked back at you for a second before he rushed off. You wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the night.

The next morning, you woke up alone once again. Your husband had gone to work. But you awoke to find a beautiful white rose lay on your bedside table. Left by no one else but your lover boy.

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