#('Can the things that I must protect' 'feel the')
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DANDELIONS
Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.
Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.
ONE
"A great idea," you grumbled the entire way from your house to the Bridgerton house. Your mother had told you it would be an excellent idea for you to venture into society. "An independent mission," she said. Your father is so ill and trapped in his own world that he didn't mind letting his only daughter go to a stranger's house. Your mother has given up on arranging a conventional marriage for you. She doesn't respect the fact that you don't want a marriage like hers. You wonder if it's so wrong to want a marriage filled with tenderness, passion, love, or any feeling other than indifference. You basically grew up knowing you were the product of an obligation. The only child your parents managed to conceive before your father became too ill to have more children. Or rather, before your mother gave up trying to love him. When you were born, at least she had shed the moral burden of having to provide your father with an heir. Obviously, both she and he had hoped you would be a boy. But you think that over the years they have grown accustomed to you. This year, for some reason, your mother wants you to get married. Perhaps it's because your father is on the brink of death. If you find a husband who can manage your father's properties and investments, maybe you will become something useful to your family. Your father only mutters about wanting a male grandchild to carry on his legacy, and your mother wants you married. After Lady Violet Bridgerton successfully married off her daughter Daphne, your mother began to think that perhaps she could help you. So, after exchanging a few letters, you are now on your way to the Bridgerton house to be introduced to society's marriage system.
"I need to step out of this carriage for a moment," you say as you stop murmuring your mother's words. Your companion gives you a look that says, "She's lost her mind," but you know she will eventually let you get out of the carriage.
"Actually, we are already in front of the Bridgerton house entrance. I must remind you that your mother recommended I stay by your side most of the time," Mrs. Lydia says, as if you didn't know that, as your companion, she is supposed to always be nearby.
"I know your job is to protect my honor, but believe me, if I enter the Bridgerton house in my current mood, they will expel me before midnight. I need a moment to think," you say, nervously adjusting the hem of your dress. Your companion gently nods as if she understands. Lydia is the closest thing to true family that you have. So it's no surprise that she understands you.
"Enter the house for a moment and be polite. There's a stable on the Bridgerton property; I'll see what I can do. Ask Lady Bridgerton or the Viscount Bridgerton if you can go for a ride. And try not to get into trouble. I'll pretend to accompany you but give you some time alone," Lydia says, and you hug her tightly. A good horse ride after meeting the Bridgertons is just what you need. Not that you know much about them. You can only imagine. They are several siblings, and you are an only child. It's not hard to imagine there will be some incompatibilities. Minutes later, you step out of the carriage with Lydia, observing several people standing around you two.
"Dear Miss Y/L/N, it's a pleasure to welcome you here. I must confess that when your mother informed me of your arrival, we all looked forward to it," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she approaches you. She seems so friendly that you feel inclined to hug her.
"I would like to thank you, Lady Bridgerton, and your lovely family for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't come with me, but my companion Lydia is here," you say awkwardly. The truth is, you're feeling that this season at Aubrey Hall with all the Bridgertons might be more challenging than you imagine.
"Let's not waste time exchanging pleasantries and let's go inside so you can see your quarters. I believe it will be the perfect time for you to get to know my children better," she says as she guides you into the house. The place is spectacular. As soon as you enter, you see some people approaching.
"Miss Y/L/N, I must warn you that this family can be a bit lively, but we will try our best to welcome you with courtesy," says a girl who must be a little younger than you. She has a book in her hands and is the first to approach you as you enter.
"Eloise, don't scare off our guest. Welcome to our abode, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Colin Bridgerton, and if you need someone to talk to, I'll be available. But I know that after a journey, the best thing is a good night's rest," Colin says to you, who smiles, finding it amusing how many Bridgertons are showing up.
"I believe I should thank Miss Eloise for the warning and Mr. Bridgerton for his kindness. Although I believe I still have a long way to go until my restful moment," you say, looking at the two who seem pleased with your gratitude.
"Your dress is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N. By the way, unlike my older brothers, I know how to introduce myself. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton." A girl who seemed not to be at the entrance of the house just moments ago suddenly appears, saying this as she walks quickly toward you.
"You're mistaking knowing how to introduce yourself with flattery, Hyacinth. I'm Gregory Bridgerton, but you can call me Gregory," says a young boy who appears to be almost the same age as Hyacinth, while the girl taps him on the shoulder. You find it cute and funny how they behave. Having siblings seems to be at least entertaining.
"The younger ones are so noisy. I wish you a pleasant stay with us, Miss Y/L/N. You'll need it. If you need some peace, just look for me. My name is Francesca," a young woman says kindly as she moves away from the confusion that this introduction session is becoming.
"Now that Miss Y/L/N has met most of the Bridgertons who reside in this house, how about having some tea in the garden of the property?" Lady Violet speaks gently, touching your arm. You nod in agreement.
"I would just like to go to the quarters where I will be staying for a change of clothing. I hope you understand, Lady Violet." You were already starting to feel pain in your back from the corset that was too tight on you.
"My dear, you can call me Violet, and you may go. I'll ask them to take you to the room where you'll be staying, and your companion will join you shortly to assist. Once you're done, I'll be in the garden waiting for you." Lady Bridgerton speaks, and you follow the servant she assigns to show you where you'll be staying. Knowing that Lydia will be with you shortly, as soon as you enter the room, you lock the door.
"What are you doing here, Miss?" A male voice speaks as soon as you lock the door, and you startle as you turn around to find a man, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, staring at you.
"I'm almost certain that I should be the one saying that, sir. I must warn you that if I were to scream, you'd be in trouble," you say, composing yourself as you observe the man looking at you curiously. Perhaps he knows that you wouldn't scream because it would ruin your reputation, or maybe he is part of the Bridgerton family, considering your mother warned you that there were three older adult brothers.
"Do you really want my family to know that I'm inappropriately dressed near you? Let me guess, you're desperate for a marriage and want to make your life easier by tying me to you?" The man speaks as he straightens up, buttoning the rest of his shirt.
"How dare you accuse me of such a strategy, considering that it is you who is in the quarters assigned to me, improperly dressed, and with an attitude worthy of pity. Honestly, my last thought at the moment would be to force a scandal so that you would have to become my husband," you reply, holding yourself near the door, keeping yourself away from whoever this Mr. Bridgerton is in front of you.
"Forgive me, Miss, but I don't trust a word coming out of your mouth at the moment. However, I assure you that this type of situation is not customary. I was trying to enter through the window of my room or one of my brothers' rooms, but I ended up in here. I had no idea that you would be arriving today. In fact, I'm being rude at this moment. I am Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," he says, approaching you cautiously as if analyzing you. Perhaps he is trying to figure out if you are an opportunist or not.
"Without intending to be rude, but already being so, whether you are a Viscount, Prince, or Duke, I don't care. What matters now is that no one finds out that we are alone here," you say, looking him squarely in the eyes, as if to firmly convey that you absolutely do not want them to be discovered.
"If you can draw the attention of the people in the house to yourself for a couple of minutes, I can leave the way I came in. Do you think that would be possible?" Anthony says with a certain petulance. However, a bold idea occurs to you. You give him a determined look and then step closer to him, bringing you both very near to each other.
"I'll simulate a small fall down the stairs. You'll have the time it takes for me to miraculously recover. Be efficient, Viscount Bridgerton," you say briefly and storm out of the room, aware that spending more time in the Viscount's presence would be a real test of your self-control. The room was starting to feel quite warm.
You descend the stairs, doing your best to appear slightly unsteady. You kick the last step with all your strength before reaching the bottom of the stairs and let out a loud groan of pain, loud enough to be heard from afar. You even manage to tear up a bit, waiting for everyone to come and check on you. Just as you are lightly sprawled on the floor, a man walks through the door. You don't remember being introduced to him before, but he is certainly a Bridgerton. He sees you and immediately rushes towards you.
"Miss, are you alright? Can I help you up?" The man asks with a concerned and caring expression. Knowing that Anthony needs more time, you let out a cry of complaint as if in fake pain when the Bridgerton in front of you tries to help you up. At that moment, you start to be surrounded by several people.
"Oh, I think I twisted my ankle, but there's no need to worry. I just need a moment," you say, uncertain if you can keep up the pretense much longer.
"My dear, don't strain yourself. Benedict will help you to a room where we can call for Dr. Lewis to examine you," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she lightly touches the arm of who you presume to be Benedict.
"May I?" Benedict asks seconds before you nod your head in agreement. But to be honest, you're not even sure what you're agreeing to. Until Benedict lifts you, asking you to put your arms around his neck. You hold on tight to him, somewhat afraid he might drop you.
"Mr. Bridgerton, you are very kind. I believe you didn't need to lift me. But I am grateful for your help," you say as you are leaned close to Benedict's chest, which you now notice is slightly exposed. What's with the Bridgertons today that everyone is showing more than they should?
"I must admit, before my family enters here, that it was amusing to take part in your charade. It was quite artistic of you. I hope you'll call on me if you want to star in another theatrical piece to get my brother out of trouble. Have a good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N," he says all this as he gently releases you onto a sofa. He doesn't seem angry or anything like that; genuinely, he seems to be enjoying himself. As soon as he leaves the room where he left you, the rest of the Bridgerton family and some servants surround you. Now you'll have to pretend to be in pain for a little while longer while you're intrigued not only by one but by two Bridgerton brothers.
#bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#benedict x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fic#bridgerton fanfic#benedict bridgerton x fem reader#anthony bridgerton x y/n#benedict x you#colin bridgerton#violet bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#gregory bridgerton#francesca bridgerton#hyacinth bridgerton#lady danbury#penelope featherington#lady whistledown#bridgerton x reader#spotify#Spotify
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the house of snow (21) ✧ coriolanus snow
the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3
pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader
series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his.
chapter summary: changes are coming.
word count: 2,010
series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later
chapter warnings?: implied smut, sickness, pet name (petal), not proofread
“I never imaged that Coriolanus Snow would be the sort of man to wrap himself around his wife’s finger,” Clemensia said, stirring her spoon in the china teacup. The metal clinked against the porcelain. She lifted the spoon from the cup and set it on the plate before taking a long drink.
You had invited her and Livia, among some other young ladies of the ton, for tea. The rest of the ladies had broken off in their own conversations while you remained with your friends. It was nice to see them. Though you loved your Coryo, sometimes it was good to spend time away from him. It reminded you of how much you enjoyed his presence.
“I never imagined him married. I sort of thought he’d live alone forever. He never cared much for chasing after girls at the Academy,” Livia admitted. Her face paled as though she realized who she was speaking to. You almost laughed at the scared, mouse-like expression. “I mean no offense, Your Majesty.”
You waved her off. “You can speak freely to me. I must admit, it is nice to hear that someone didn’t think my Coryo to be the marrying type.”
“Oooh, your Coryo,” Clemensia teased, brushing her elbow against yours.
“Oh, hush,” you laughed. “I thought I was truly blind when he told me he’s wanted my hand since we were fourteen. At least now I can say I was not blind, but rather that he was terrible at communicating his feelings.”
Livia’s brows raised to her hairline. “Fourteen? Really?”
“He’d been asking my father for my hand since we were eighteen,” you added. “My father refused until Coryo made a name for himself.”
“And of course he would take that to mean he must be crowned King,” Clemensia said. “He was never anything but ambitious.”
Livia smiled and reached for your hand. She gave it a squeeze. “That is so romantic. A man who will take a kingdom so he can earn his love’s hand. People write stories about that sort of thing.”
“That sounds like the stories you would read, petal.“
All other conversation in the parlor had ceased. You didn’t have to turn in your seat to know that Coryo was behind you. His firm hands came to rest on his shoulders, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. A smile pulled at your lips.
“Do you think all I read is romance?” you said.
“Not all. But everyone needs something lighter after reading about history and politics all day,” Coryo said. His fingers trailed off the lace of your gown and to the exposed skin by your collarbone. A shiver ran down your spine. Why had you tortured yourself with this tea again? “Besides, you had to get the idea of a love match from somewhere.”
You watched as Clemensia leaned over to Livia. Her voice dropped to a stage-whisper as she said, “Aren’t they much cuter than her and Lord Plinth would ever be?”
Coryo’s fingers curled into your skin. It didn’t hurt, but it reminded you of how you and Coryo lost a friend. Even if Sejanus could leave the Peacekeepers and return to the Capitol, nothing would ever be the same. You couldn’t imagine a world where you all could be friends again. You reached up and took his hand, lifting it to your lips. He relaxed as you kissed his knuckles.
“Much cuter,” Livia agreed.
Clemensia’s eyes glinted with mischief as she turned her gaze to you and Coryo. “A shame he enlisted with the Peacekeepers. I wish he could see the two of you so sickeningly in love.”
“Perhaps that’s why he enlisted. Because he couldn’t live with himself if he wasn’t the one making her so happy,” Livia mused.
Oh, that was such a romantic way to think of it. If only they knew it was because he was so in love with you that he begged you to run away with him. If only they had seen the King so red with anger, how you had thought he would have killed his once-friend with his bare hands. If Livia was writing your story, she would make it seem like Sejanus peacefully stepped out of the picture. She wouldn’t make it seem like the betrayal it was.
You lifted your chin to look at your husband. While his face was painted to look calm, you could see the anger swirling in his pale blue eyes. You kissed his knuckles again and said, “Why he left doesn’t matter. Not when I have such a wonderful husband by my side.”
Coryo’s tight-lipped smile turned genuine. “And with that, I must steal my wife away. We have important matters we must discuss.”
You held onto Coryo’s hand as you rose from your seat. He led you out of the ignore, the both of you ignoring Clemensia’s giggled “important matters, hm?”. Your heart beat hard in your chest as you walked down the hall. He wouldn’t harm you, you were sure of that, but you didn’t like when he let the anger simmer.
Coryo took you to the office and shut the door behind you. Once alone, he tugged you against his chest and pressed his lips against yours. A gasp escaped you, allowing him the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. Your arms wound their way around his shoulders. You hand tangled itself in his hair. Well, this certainly wasn’t what you expected, but you weren’t going to kick a gift horse in the mouth.
“I would marry you again,” he grunted against your mouth. “I would marry you every day for the rest of my life.”
“What’s stopping you? You are King. The only person you let order you around is me, and I would never deprive myself of you again.”
Coryo pulled away. Before you could inquire why, he was sinking down on his knees. He pushed your skirts up, hooked one leg over his shoulder. His nose brushed against your clothed core, wet mouth pressing kisses. Coryo pulled down your undergarments and began to recite his vows.
“I, Coriolanus Snow, take thee to be my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward…”
Your stomach churned as you ate breakfast. With every bite, it took tremendous effort to keep the food down. Even with a generous amount of water between bites, it doesn’t seem to help. Part of you wanted to believe it was because you would be meeting with the Electors for the first time since your engagement to Coryo. But you knew it wasn’t nerves. You had had a rare clear schedule two days prior when you found yourself knelt over a chamberpot, the remnants of lunch spilling out with no end in sight.
“You don’t need to meet with the Electors if you are not feeling up to it,” Coryo said from the other end of the table. He had finished his own breakfast what felt like hours ago. In reality, it had only been a few minutes. Yet every effort to eat your own meal seemed to take eons. “I can meet them on my own, or we can reschedule. No one will fault you if they wish to live.”
The threat was meant to make you laugh, and you might have if the nausea didn’t overwhelm you. A Peacekeeper from the corner of the room raced over with a vessel for your vomit. You heaved until there was nothing left, barely noticing that Coryo had came around your side and was rubbing your back.
“I take it back. You are not going,” he said. “They should be arriving soon, but I will inform them that we cannot take visitors at the moment.”
You lifted your head. Sweat beaded on your forehead, and you knew you looked as sick as you felt. Still, though, you argued, “I am fine now. I-I just need a moment to freshen up. Whatever sickness that was has passed. I am fine, Coryo.”
“Is that why you pretend I don’t know you have been sick every day this week?”
You had prayed he didn’t notice. A foolish thought, to be sure. But he never made a comment when you would slide out of bed or would excuse yourself from the office.
“You never said anything.”
Coryo sighed. He ran a hand over your hair, careful not to mess up the delicate pinnings. “Nor did you. I thought you might have wanted space. If you do, I will continue to allow you it. But I will not let you go to meetings and make yourself worse. Go back to our chambers, take a bath, and I will have a physician sent up.”
“Coryo—”
He hushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Please, petal.”
You frowned, but conceded. When Coryo looked at you with that serious look in his eyes, it was hard to fight back. So you rose from your chair and retreated to your chambers. A lady’s maid was quick to help you out of your dress and undid your hair while another servant drew you a bath. Once in the bath, you tried to push your mind away from your sickness. It was easy to do until a servant came in to let you know the physician arrived.
Rather reluctantly, you left your bath and slipped on a shift before letting the physician inside your chambers. You offered a tight-lipped smile as he gave a quick bow.
“Thank you for your haste,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed. The physician pulled the bench by your vanity over so he sat in front of you. “I am certain this will pass soon, but Coryo wanted to be certain.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” he said. “I am sure you would much rather return to your duties, so we can make this quick. Could you tell me your symptoms?”
You began to rattle them off, your heart sinking as you began to realize how much you had been sick over the last week. How had Coryo managed to stay silent this long? Did he realize how ill you had been? Judging by the on the physician’s face, you began to worry that you and Coryo had waited too long to do anything.
The door creaked open. Without really thinking of what you were doing, you stood up as Coryo entered the room. He nodded at the physician before coming to your side. You sat together. His hand instinctively took yours.
“Is everything well?” Coryo asked.
“I will need to ask a few questions first, but I am certain all is well, Your Majesty,” the physician said.
“Ask away then,” Coryo said.
The physical looked to you. “Forgive me for my bluntness, but when was your last courses?”
Your grip on Coryo’s hand tightened. When had that been? It felt like nearly a lifetime ago. How long ago had it been since you bled? You used to be so diligent about this. Your mother always stressed the importance of it. She would say it would be important when you were married, because that’s when you knew when you would have children. Children. Oh.
You counted back the days and the weeks, your heart racing as you couldn’t pinpoint the exact time. “Right before the wedding,” you decided. “The day you threw the ball, Coryo.”
Coryo’s head snapped to yours. “That was nearly two months ago.”
The physician smiled. “Ah, well, then that’s likely what’s at issue. I have a few tests we can do to be certain, but I do believe we have found the source of your sickness, Your Majesty.”
Suddenly, you very much wanted to throw up again. Could it really be so soon? You tried to recall married couples that came before you. How long had it been for them? You wanted to say a lot longer. Certainly not a mere two months.
“Congratulations,” the physician said. “Panem will rejoice when your babe arrives.”
You vomited on his shoes.
#the house of snow: a royal coryo au#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#coriolanus snow x female reader#coriolanus snow x y/n#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow fan fiction#coriolanus snow fan fic#coriolanus snow fanfic#coriolanus snow fic#starrywrites#starryevermore
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Again, a scene from Adam got redeemed.
Yay Sera is a bitch again.. She’s here to make sure the winners are doing great. (lie)
Sera: Morningstar, can we talk?
Lucifer, sighing: What is it Sera?
Sera: In private I meant. Do you-
Lucifer: Follow me.
Sera: But-
Lucifer: This is my place Sera. I get to decide.
Sera: Okay.
They go to an empty bedroom, the tension is high.
Lucifer: So?
Sera: I must mention that I am impressed by Mrs. Morningstar’s work. How much souls she saved is-
Lucifer: Get to the point. Why are you taking my time?
Sera, annoyed, dropping the formal kindness: Fine. I am here because I have heard that you were keeping a soul here where he should be a winner by now.
Dread fills Lucifer.
Sera wouldn’t bother for Husk. It could only mean one thing.
No.
Clinging to a last piece of hope, Lucifer asks: Well who is it and who-
Sera: Don’t act like you don’t know. I’m here for Adam. Speaking of here, why IS he here anyway? Shouldn’t he be with us, don’t you think?
Lucifer (He’d put that bitch in her place if he had the chance but this was a serious matter): I-
Sera: Oh sorry, I forgot how you tricked him into selling his soul to you.
Lucifer: I didn’t trick him! I offered him my protection when you guys didn’t care enough to do it yourselves!
Sera: And why was that? Right, you wanted to break his heart and punish him yourself instead.
Lucifer: HOW DARE YOU!
A silence fills the room for a really small while.
Sera: Anyway. I’m here to request his soul back.
Lucifer: What makes you think you can?
Sera: I have my reason. *Summons a shiny paper, Lucifer’s eyes widen.* Hazbin Hotel and Heaven Council Official Contract Article 13: Hazbin Hotel Redemption and Rehabilitation Center, promises to do anything in it’s power to make sure all the souls they redeem and rehabilitate safely ascends to Heaven. If they are not currently capable of doing so, they will not be blamed. However, if they are purposedly holding a soul in Hell, and if it’s proven true by objective Heaven authorities, the Heaven Council will give them a limited one week period time to release the soul. If they insist on keeping the soul in Hell, Heaven Council has every right to shut Hazbin Hotel down.
Sera *smiles*: Your daughter had to be more careful about what she was signing.
Lucifer: You wouldn’t dare.
Sera: I would. And for a fact, I know you wouldn’t dare taking this to the court and let Adam know you kept him here like an obsessive maniac.
Sera comes closer to the frozen demon, angrily whispering: We showed you enough patience, Lucifer. It’s been almost a month since Emily told you about this. So, *opens the door* if I don’t see him infront of those gates in three days, your daughter can say goodbye to this place, her dream and her people.
Then she leaves.
Dw it has a good ending.
Lucifer better bitch slap her LOL OR I'LL DO IT MYSELF.
What if Adam doesn't want to go back to heaven anymore? What if he views Lucifer taking him to the gates as him abandoning him again 😭
GIRL THERE BETTER BE A HAPPY ENDING THIS HURT MY FEELINGS.
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How Cherry Magic avoids romanticising self-sacrifice
Alright strap in boys, this is gonna be a long one.
Spoilers for the manga (mostly the english volumes but I will include a bit from vol 12. I'll mark it tho so yall may skip it if you don't want to be spoilered).
So in this one I want to examine how cherry magic does a great job at portraying self-sacrifice in a relationship as an actual flaw rather than a romantic ideal to aspire to.
Very often you'll see characters in media putting their own needs aside for their lover. A lot of people will swoon at that because it is usually presented as proof of how dedicated they are to their partner and their wellbeing. (See... well the thai adaptation actually).
But what has pleasantly surprised me is how Toyota handles this in her manga.
Starting from the beginning, we all know the millions of things Kurosawa did for Adachi to get closer to him. After all, that is what's usually expected of him if we talk traditional gender roles. But one of the reasons Adachi even starts falling for Kurosawa is because of how he was for once able to do something for him.
For someone with very low self-esteem, being able to help this super-capable perfect man is a big boost in confidence and also raises his own selfworth.
So now let's look at a few instances of selfless action and the consequences resulting from them.
First one is the disaster-date in volume 4
Kurosawa does his very best to choose activities that he thinks Adachi will enjoy. That is his primary concern.
The effect this has on Adachi though is that the gap between them feels impossibly wide, only worsening his already low opinion of himself.
Whenever Kurosawa does something big, it makes Adachi feel that much smaller. That's why he'd rather them be equals in everything instead of one giving more than the other.
Next is the argument they have in volume 8
Kurosawa attempts to, very selflessly, protect Adachi from his lowkey homophobic parents. He doesn't want them and their opinions to hurt Adachi personally, so he ends up lying to him to keep the peace.
The effect this has on Adachi though is disastrous.
At first he's just generally worried about why Kurosawa would even lie to him in the first place, but then they have that fight in their living room and you really get a good look at how negatively this affects Adachi.
The very first conclusion he jumps to is that he's not doing good enough for Kurosawa to feel secure with him.
The next one is even worse, where he thinks he's not good enough in general. Both of these show how when pressed, he will default to blaming himself, believing that he is the problem first and foremost.
And then, if all of that wasn't bad enough, this happens next:
He's actually being self-deprecating again, something he hadn't done ever since Kurosawa told him not to in volume 5.
And yes you can actually go back and check for yourself. Whenever he has negative thoughts after this point he's always pushing back.
So there's an escalation happening here, one that is entirely caused by Kurosawa not sharing his burdens with him, by making their relationship unequal.
I think it also hurts him extra bad because they've had this argument before, just with their roles switched.
So to him it must feel like Kurosawa is betraying the important lesson Adachi learned from that argument, which is that communicating with your partner is important, even when you feel like it might hurt them.
There's also something to be said about how most people would've probably stopped prodding when someone says "it's something I can't tell you", but Adachi knows that Kurosawa has a pattern of hiding his issues from him thanks to the mind reading, which is the whole reason they had that argument in vol 6 in the first place.
So, to summarize: Whenever Kurosawa acts selfless it takes a toll on Adachi's mental health. Because of his low self-esteem he needs to feel on equal terms with Kurosawa to be able to see himself as worthwhile. (And obviously he also loves Kurosawa and doesn't want to see him in pain just in general.)
So after all that, surely Kurosawa would have learned his lesson, right?
Surely he wouldn't just do it again, right?
...
Spoilers for volume 12 start here ✨
So volume 12 is all about Kurosawa overworking himself because he's been assigned this big project by their chief to oversee their company's spot at a stationery convention. (I didn't look up whether or not that's a real thing but it is in the manga universe I guess lmao.)
Adachi tries to help alleviate his burdens with mixed success.
(On the left he feeds Kurosawa because he needs to finish his work and doesn't have time to eat. On the right he tries to take a phonecall for Kurosawa but gets told that Kurosawa needs to hear it personally so relaying a message won't do.)
Then Adachi muses to himself how Kurosawa was always helping him out in the past and how Adachi can't do anything for him in return, especially since they're in different departments. He feels very useless, which is once again bad for his mental health.
Later at home, he offers to at least take over the chores for the time being, but gets told that Kurosawa actually enjoys doing chores so there's no need for him to help.
Kurosawa tells him that all he needs is Adachi to be close to him, while making out with him on the sofa. And right here we see how he only got half the lesson he was supposed to have learned in volume 8:
In their fight Adachi told him that they should both be happy and he should share "all the hurt" with him, too. Well, the simple solution to that is not to see all his burdens as burdens, then he's not hurting and Adachi doesn't need to bother fussing over him!
Win-win. Epic mind gymnastics 😎
(To be honest, I feel like this is actually very relatable to people that tend to give more than they take. We get so used to the weight of the burden that we don't notice it slowly pulling us down.)
So Adachi obviously notices what's going on and berates him about not having understood anything he said from that fight.
Throughout the volume Kurosawa gets more and more overworked, makes mistakes and is confronted with unexpected complications.
He's very adamant about not asking anyone for help though, stating that he "can't be bothering his senpais any more than he already has" and that he's "doing this all for the sake of his future with Adachi".
He also still has some hangups about people seeing him as just a pretty face, as you can see in that flashback in the second page.
He constantly feels the need to prove himself to others, which prevents him from ever seeking out help.
So when he inevitably reaches his limit, Adachi is finally able to be there for him, being the only one that sees through his facade.
(That hand kiss is so precious 😭)
Also, on that first page Adachi asks him whether or not he's fine, which reminds me of this panel from volume 6:
He really knows him so well.
Emboldened by his husband, Kurosawa finally does ask for help and is, of course, met with understanding and sympathy.
.
Spoilers for volume 12 end here ✨
So all this to say: Sometimes, when we try our best to be selfless and to protect the people close to us, we do more harm than good. Sometimes we cause harm to others (see volumes 4 and 8) and sometimes we cause harm to ourselves (see volume 12).
It is of course a noble cause but it's not something to strive for at all times and can sometimes be actually counterproductive to what we wanted to achieve in the first place.
As someone who breaks themselves apart to help all the people around them, this aspect of the manga resonated very strongly with me and is probably the biggest reason I got so obsessed with this silly little BL romcom.
I know that this manga is not like, the best in quality. I know it's super niche and silly and cannot compare to the big popular mainstream manga with lots of depth and thought put into it, BUT.
A piece of art doesn't need to be "good" in order to resonate with people. You don't need to paint the mona lisa to reach someone and make them feel seen. You just need some sort of medium and a will to communicate something to the observer. (Something an AI could never replicate but that is a whole other discussion.)
This manga reached me when I needed it and it communicated a message that resonated with me and that is all it needed to do for me to love it to the point of obsession. 💖
Finally I'm done with this essay it is so long oh my god.
If you reached the end of this, I'm so sorry. I hope you enjoyed it tho.
#cherry magic#happy pride month I guess#alternate title: adachi has 99 problems and kurosawa is all of them#he's also the solution tho so there's that lol
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~Yanderes For Everyone~
Here's some yandere prompts and imagines, both romantic and platonic, for those who want some non sexual yandere adoration ❤️ Happy Pride!
Romantic/Asexual Scenarios:
M!Yandere x M!Reader
Yandere!Best Friend who couldn't figure out at first why it hurt so badly when you had friends other than him until a classmate attempted to ask you out
Yandere!Best Friend really just wants the two of you to continue playing games together, and live together, and adopt a couple of dogs together, and grow old together.. y'know, like how best friends do
Yandere!Best Friend becomes a complete menace when he learns what asexuality is, and that one can be both gay and ace
Yandere!Best Friend who is determined to prove that you don't need anyone else but him, even if it means cutting you off from the outside world
Yandere!Best Friend's method of "seduction" is stealthily turning off your phone's notifications while you're hanging out and tricking you into staying over longer than you intended
"You can't leave yet! I forgot to show you this new game I bought; it has couch co-op, and I just put pizza bites in the oven!"
Fem!Yandere x Fem!Reader
Yandere!Nun who enjoys her days at the convent, tending to flowers and taking care of those in need. She doesn't care so much about her vows to God, but enjoys a life free from the societal expectations she was gifted from birth as a woman.
Yandere!Nun is stunned when she sees you for the very first time. It was like witnessing an angel descend upon the earth, or experiencing a divine prophetic dream
Yandere!Nun loves being near her own personal angel, who's voice brings a joy she's never known before
Yandere!Nun is crushed when she learns that this isn't a final home for you like it is for her, and is instead merely a way for you to receive an education before your inevitable debut into society
Yandere!Nun who becomes determined to keep you with her, forever tending to the garden and feeding the poor, and decides that she will do whatever it takes to keep you by her side...
"Really, aren't you safer here? I mean, under God's protection, we can be happy! ..together.."
Yandere!Succubus x GN!Reader
Yandere!Succubus who's never enjoyed sex, not even once in the past thousand years she's been alive
Yandere!Succubus feels she must "grin and bear it", putting on a fake smile and bracing herself for the worse when she is once again summoned to the human world
Only to be floored by you, who summoned her from a spell in an ominous old book you found in the attic, not knowing that she was a succubus
Yandere!Succubus can feel herself falling for you every time she is summoned for some mundane task that doesn't involve her body, whether it be helping you finish a work assignment last minute or assisting with household chores
Yandere!Succubus refuses to answer the summoning rituals of lonely humans, instead spending all her time with you, even when you don't call for her
Yandere!Succubus knows that when it's your time, you will inevitably be punished, and has already made plans for your "departure" from this world
It'll be like you never died, you'll blink and be 25 again, baking cookies with her in your kitchen while she tells you about her day, laughing as she flirts with you and never questioning why Monday never seems to arrive
Yandere!Merman x GN!Reader
Yandere!Merman who meets you in a very silly and cliche way: being rescued after getting tangled up in garbage
Yandere!Merman acts distraught when you refuse to accept any gifts from him, trying to convince him that you don't need to be rewarded for doing the right thing
Yandere!Merman finds himself enamored with you, wanting to extend your visit longer, going as far as to grab your ankle when you try to leave
He begins running out of reasons to keep you, but you promise you'll be back again in the morning, and boy does he feel like crying when you stay true to your word and return to him
Yandere!Merman feels a little guilty about deceiving you, but when he learns that you're only there on "vacation" and that you'll be going "back to work" soon, he had to do something!
Yandere!Merman who finally gets you to accept a gift, a little glass vial that he claims is a traditional drink his people enjoy
He apologizes over and over again when the "drink" causes you to transform, robbing you of your legs. Wiping your tears away and crying himself, claiming that he had no idea it would have that affect on a human! But that he's ready to take responsibility, and take care of you for the rest of your new life under the water..
Yandere!Spirit x GN!Reader
Yandere!Spirit who's been dead for so long that they've forgotten what it was like to be human
Their body has warped as they lost memories of their previous life, elongating and discoloring, their skin a hollow grey and their body thin and stretched
Yandere!Spirit is approached one day by you, a human who not only can see them, but isn't afraid of them
Yandere!Spirit had forgotten what warmth was, but being in your presence was almost like having a heartbeat again
Yandere!Spirit becomes addicted to you, begging to stay by your side and continue basking in the sunlight of your smile, feeling that this is what it must have felt like to be alive
"Don't ask me to stay home.. does it really bother you that people think you're talking to yourself? I just.. please don't leave me again.."
Aroace/Platonic Scenarios:
Yandere!Catboy x GN!Reader
Yandere!Catboy who breaks into your house one day, and decides that your home is now his home as well
Yandere!Catboy demands attention and affection when he wants it.. and it usually just happens to be when you're busy
Yandere!Catboy has no sense of personal space, and didn't care if you're on the phone with your mother, he needs to use your lap as a pillow right. now.
Yandere!Catboy is a pain in the ass, treating you like a prince's servant, but he adores you in his own, possessive way
"Why do you smell like another cat?! I don't care if that skank was an aCtUaL cAt, those hands should only be rubbing these ears! Now get to it!"
Yandere!Big Sister x GN!Reader
Yandere!Big Sister who isn't actually related to you, but took pity on you and offered you a ride one night when you were walking home in the rain
Yandere!Big Sister sees herself in you, despite the gender difference, believing you to be as lonely as she is
Yandere!Big Sister begins keeping an eye out for you on her trips around town, doing her best to gain your trust slowly enough where she wouldn't scare you off
Yandere!Big Sister invites herself over to your apartment the moment she thinks you might not hate her, bringing gifts of junk food and beer
Yandere!Big Sister is so convinced that you are like her, that she "protects" you from your "obviously shitty" family, blocking their numbers on your phone while you're passed out, isolating you from the people that would hurt you
"That ass forgot your birthday?! I'm so sorry, kiddo.. If it makes you feel any better.. I already picked up a cake on my way over here~"
Yandere!Cult x Deity!Reader
Yandere!Cult Members who passionately worship you with a fervor that makes you worried for their mental stability
Resurrected from obsoletion, you were obviously overwhelmed with joy, being a small, nearly forgotten deity.. but when you witnessed your congregation, you realized they weren't regular worshippers
Yandere!Cult Members exist in a state of ecstasy for you, giving up their lives to join the cult they made in your name
Yandere!Cult Members who take what little text survived from your past followers, and turned it into a doctrine so absolute, that any deviation has them on their knees begging for forgiveness
And when you make yourself known, trying to calm the pitiful humans, share some comfort with them that you are not a god that enjoys this kind of devotion, the Yandere!Cult is in a state of euphoria, unable to comprehend your words..
"You appear! For us! We are not worthy of your presence, and yet you are such a kind and loving god that you appear.. for us!! No sacrifice is too great for one such as yourself!!"
Yandere!Toy Maker x GN!Reader
Yandere!Toy Maker who never liked humans; they talk too much, they smell funny, they grow old, and worse of all, they die
Yandere!Toy Maker changes his tune when he first meets you
Yandere!Toy Maker is fascinated by you, because unlike most humans, you don't annoy him; you're like a wind up dolly, only saying what he wants to hear
Yandere!Toy Maker uses you as his inspiration, making toys and dolls of all types that look like you, often gifting you adult sized clothes that are replicas of the outfits he makes for the little yous
Yandere!Toy Maker seriously considers stuffing your body, turning you into a toy that will never grow old; never leave him
But he could never.. even if he put a drawstring on your back, it wouldn't be the same.. he still doesn't have enough recordings of you talking to replace your presence..
✨Bonus✨
Yandere!Bed x GN!Reader
The mattress was on sale at the cheap little store you were visiting for the first time. And honestly, the deal was too good to pass up. When was the last time you got a new bed? Didn't you deserve to wake up not in pain?
So you brought it home.
It was a pain in the ass, but you got it into your apartment by yourself and set it up.
It. Was. Heaven.
You couldn't remember the last time you fell asleep so quickly, but it felt like you blacked out the second you laid down. In fact, it was so comfortable, you slept through all three of your alarms.
Shit.
But even being late to work and getting yelled at by your boss didn't faze you. The entire day it was like you were walking on clouds; you were so well rested that all you could think about was going home to your new bed: excited to sleep again.
And for the first couple of weeks, your coworkers didn't say anything. But they began worrying about you, suspecting that you might be depressed or something. All you talked about was your bed; how you never slept so well in your life, how laying down was like falling straight into the dream world... But you never looked worse.
Despite your claims that you were sleeping like a corpse, you were beginning to look like the dead. The bags under your eyes were hollow and heavy, your skin was paling, and your movements were slow and weak.
However, it didn't matter what they said.
That mattress was the single best purchase you've ever made in your whole entire life.
Lying down was like being enveloped in the embrace of a parent.
It didn't bother you when your boss fired you in front of your concerned fellow employees..
It just meant that you would have more time to sleep.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#gn reader#fem reader#male reader#fem yandere#male yandere#yandere monster#yandere ghost#yandere succubus#platonic yandere#happy pride 🌈#asexual#aroace#biromantic
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I was wondering have you ever made a pota OC for the original reboots or for the new film :)?
I DO! The story i had in mind is centered around Bird meeting other apes during her adventure and creating a found family.
I just wanted famale apes being front and center
Queen Magma is the matriarch of Ember Clan who are at odds with Proximus's kingdom because they have advanced more than he has. Ember Clan lives at Coso volcanic field and have studied the ways of humans as well as creating their own ways. They have learned to harvest minerals and use literal science to aid them. Magma and Proximus are basically in a race to see who can achieve true evolution first. Proximus's soldiers attempted to invade and capture them but their resistance was too much. So now they are at war with each other. Magma and her clan know who Ceaser is but honestly do not care. They rather build their own path no matter if Ceaser agrees or not. The queen herself is cold and very to the point. She does not care about what you feel she only cares about getting the work done. The only thing she "cares" about is her daughter Diamond. But with how sheltered her own daughter is that is questioned as well. Proximus is also responsible for killing Magma's husband, Obsidian.
Diamond is Magma's daughter and princess of Ember Clan. Born blind and named because of her diamond colored eyes. Her father. King Obsidian, cherished her and taught her how to make glass art, something they bonded over. After Obsidian was killed, Magma locked her daughter away inside the clan borders to protect her. Due to this Diamond is not aware of what the outside world is like. Her mother has told her how dangerous it is and that she must stay inside the walls. Diamond doesnt have any friends and this makes her restless so Magma brings in random apes (prisoners) to be her friend. Bird being one of them.
Nightfire is a lone wolf siamang huntress. Her family was supposidly killed and she is the only survivor. She ends up running into Bird and the two become traveling buddies (and more). Nightfire is very protective of Bird due to trauma and doesnt want to lose them. Not much is known about her past but she did tell stories to Bird about her mother Nightingale, her father Firefly, and brother Wolf.
Bird is a gibbon who used to live with their family in a secluded area away from any rivals or other apes in general. They didnt have a clan but they still cherished gibbon culture which was centered around singing. Bird is known for their lovely singing within their family. Eventually their family dissapears and they are left all alone. Until one day they are attacked by Nightfire due to a misunderstanding. The two then decide to travel together and began to grow closer. Bird is determined to get Nightfire to sing.
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I saw a post by someone who was distressed because they couldn't manifest from the void due to going "blank" once entering it. I think this is due to the way the void is understood here on Tumblr, so I'm going to address this below.
In a book called The Vision, the author's Apache shaman mentor "Grandfather" teaches him to enter the void, which they also referred to as "the veil", and here is what he said about it:
"To modern man what I was attempting to do would be called meditation, but it was far greater than what he considered meditation...it was the absence of of all thought, of consciousness of time, place, gravity or body. It was an absolute nothingness, an equilibrium, and a limitless void. The veil was the absence of self, totally, an absolute purity of existence and non-existence.
It was in this void, this veil, that Grandfather said all things of the spirit would be found. It was there that we would have total understanding and transcend the physical planes of man's existence. It was there that the primal self could be found; it was the abiding place of the life force, the spirit-that-moves-in-all-things, and all the spirits that inhabit our worlds. It was also where we could find all knowledge, create realities, and touch the Creator."
In addition to all of this, the author said that being in the veil can make one invisible, and that the ancient scouts used to use it to protect themselves.
All of the author's descriptions of entering the void/veil involve having no thoughts whatsoever while he's there. Here are some excerpts where he talks about it:
"I lost consciousness of my body and my place...I found myself floating in a void, an absolute darkness, having no awareness of time or place, or even an existence outside that world. Though it was only for a moment, it felt like an eternity that I was there, where time had stood still."
This next part is especially important because it specifically addresses the author's frustration at his mind going blank when entering the void. The author and his friend were trying to send their conciousnesses to a time in the past and were advised to use the veil because "it knows no time." They did their meditation as usual but were not able to hold their intentions once they entered the Void.
"We tried desperately to carry the date with us to the veil, but every time we passed through, the date would disappear with all other thought. Feeling a little angry with my failure, I went to ask Grandfather why it hadn't worked.
'First' he said, 'There must be absolute faith, and second, you must not try to carry the time or place back with you. You cannot pass into the veil carrying any baggage. Instead, tell it where and when you would like to go and let the all- knowing veil do the rest."
The author prayed, presumably stating his intention, went into a "period of absolute thoughtlessness to meditate and rest," and then found himself in the time and place he intended. It worked.
So you see, there's quite a difference between "void" as it's understood in the book, versus by people here on Tumblr. In both cases it has the same possibilities, but the difference is that people here seem to believe you're floating around and still thinking about things while in the void, while the author, his mentor, and his mentor's teachers and ancestors believed that it's a place of no-thought; that it's actually impossible to think within it, and that your intentions need to be stated to it before entering it. According to them, whatever most people here are calling the "void" would not be the real deal at all, but more of a deep and relaxed state of meditation; nothing more. If your mind is going blank, you're likely actually entering the void.
As far as feeling that you must use the void to manifest anything... this sentiment is why I disapprove so much of the void-state obsession in manifestation/shifting communities. You do not need the void state to do any of that. There are SO many ways to manifest, and the void is just one of them; but personally I never even use it for that, and manifest successfully all the time just through 30-second visualizations. Manifestation should be fun and easy, and we should use the techniques that come naturally to us.
If anyone has trouble entering the void, or they try the alternative method I mentioned above and are still finding frustration, please set aside all thoughts of the void and get back to basic manifestation techniques. They work, and most of them are a breeze to perform. We as humans tend to complicate things for ourselves, almost as if we feel something isn't valuable if it isn't difficult; but the sooner you choose what works for you, the sooner you'll see your manifestations come to pass. And that's the whole point, isnt it? 💖
#void state#void method#void motivation#loa#loa affirmations#loa tumblr#loa advice#neville goddard#desired reality#manifesting#shiftblr#law of manifestation#reality shifting#shifting community#law of assumption#law of attraction
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Chapter 11
Prologue | Previous | Next
AN: Firstly I'd like to apologize for teasing y'all in April. However family and my mental health always come first. Turns out that planning a funeral, attending said funeral, and grieving one of the most influential people in your life sucks. Again thank you all for your patience and support. And I hope you'll enjoy it! 🌻
Warning(s): Self Mutilation, Blood Ritual
The morning came too quickly. For once you weren’t the first awake, as Kurakh shook your shoulder. “Come on Odmili, it's morning.” You groan in protest but still sit up, knowing well enough you asked for it. The fire was barely lit, meaning Kurakh mustn't have been awake long. As if he read your mind, “I still have the sand in my eyes.”
“Would you like me to tend to the fire?”
“If you feel so inclined,” he yawns while slowly standing up. You follow behind him, quickly slipping on your boots to protect your feet from the cold stone floor. Fabric rustles behind you as you feed a new log to the fire. The flames were now high and illuminating the small room well. You quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure Kurakh was decent enough for you to tolerate. With a sigh of relief, you turn around. "I don't know how you can function in this cold."
"Years of training," you chuckle while pulling your stay over your shoulders. You didn't even bother to look while you re-laced the front, muscle memory taking over. "Besides, this isn't the worst of it. Wait until the snow is above your knees."
"Only when you say things like that, I regret coming north," he sighs and slips on a furred vest over his tunic.
“I doubt that is true,” eyes rolling at his antics.
“I speak this truth. I have yet to lose a warrior, Moltschab’s horde is too scared to travel this far north, I have gained allies… And I met you.”
You pause in the middle of tying the final knot, fighting to ignore the fluttering of your heart, "that is the most saccharine thing I've ever heard you say." Surprisingly you were met with silence, making you pivot on your heel. Kurakh's confusion was written all over his face. Again the fact that the two of you come from completely different worlds dawned on you. "Saccharine means something is very sweet," you explain while stepping into your habit.
"Oh, I couldn't tell if it was good or bad," he chuckles a little and stands. Retrieving his cloak from a hook on the wall. "If Mazna asks, please tell him I'm out hunting."
"Of course, he should still be asleep, right?"
"Yes, and hopefully for a few more hours. For Roldza's sake."
"Indeed, bless that woman," you smile and begin to re-lace the habit. "Should I assume it shouldn't take long, considering our numbers have grown?" Your smile quickly disappears as a knot forms in the laces.
"Correct," he smirks and approaches you. He gently moves your hair aside, breath fanning across your neck. "You said our numbers."
"Yes, and," you counter while a blush starts to make its way up your neck.
"You're no longer considering yourself an outsider," he carefully takes the laces and undoes the knot. His fingers gently graze along your back as he finishes lacing the habit for you. "That is good."
"Oh... And you don't have to do this for me. I can lace this thing in my sleep."
"I know," his voice didn't give room to argue.
"Then why are you insisting on doing it?"
"Why must you be suspicious of everything I do?"
"Well, we didn't start on the right foot."
"Fair point," he lightly tugs on the laces to signal he's finished. "Would you like me to tuck the laces?" You only nod, trying not to tense up as he tucks the laces into the habit. Kurakh's hand finds its way to your hair and moves it back to how it normally lays. "There. Save for that blasted headcover you look like a proper Maid of Eia."
It felt like you could finally breathe as you stepped away from him, "I'm also missing the pin... But that's the last of my worries right now."
"I'll be fine."
You smack him in the chest playfully, "and what made you so sure I was talking about you? I'm more concerned about Schelura cutting my hair!"
"Right," he smirks, "don't worry, you'll be in good hands. Schelura's family has been hairdressing for generations."
"I thought she was a beadmaster?"
"Most beadmasters are also hairdressers. The work goes hand-in-hand." He hovers in the middle of the room, contemplation written all over his face. "I suppose I should go to the main hall."
"I believe so, Otoschlibt. I'll be right behind you, I just need to fix my stockings." He nods and slowly walks to the door. Taking a deep breath before he opens it, bracing for the cold air of the hallway. "The faster you do it the sooner it'll be over with," you tease. With a quiet laugh, he opens the door and enters the hallway. You watch as he goes, kindly closing the door behind him so you can have more time to savor the warmth.
It didn't take long for you to deem yourself fully dressed. With your cloak fastened you step into the hall. The cool air hitting your face, properly waking you up. The halls were lowly lit with glimmerstone, and eerily silent. As you stepped into the main hall it almost felt like a different world. Warriors bustle about as they prepare. The sound of blades on whetstones surrounded you as you made your way to the center of the room. Kurakh and the commanders surround a table covered by a makeshift map.
Eteos seemed to be the mastermind of the attack, effortlessly explaining as he pointed to the map. No one seemed to pay attention as you sidled up to Kurakh. “We will attack from all sides. Dogar and I will lead the larger group attacking from the south. Kalos will lead the western group and Aren will lead the eastern. Kurah and Galta will lead the northern group to capture the lieutenant and the maid.”
I lean in closer to Kurakh, trying to keep quiet, “the maid I understand, but the Lieutenant? Have you gone mad?”
“We need leverage, and Eteos says the winter will work in our favor by slowing rescue efforts.”
“It could also lead to our slaughter.”
“The council has already voted,” the finality of his tone kept your mouth shut. You could see a hint of doubt in his eye as he refocused. His fingers tapped on the table absentmindedly. Usually, Kurakh was able to keep still, but within the last week, you’ve caught him fidgeting more than usual. Hopefully, it was only his secret project he was worried about.
“Alright everyone, ready your weapons. We must leave before dawn,” Eteos calls to the crowd. Kurakh gently moves you away from the table as he also leaves.
“I'm unsure what we should do for the new Maid, should she stay with us?”
“I don't see why not, but it depends on who she is. It's usually the newly ordained Maids that get drafted.”
“Except you?”
“There might be some marks on my record.”
Kurakh laughs, “So I'm not the only one who's dealt with your attitude?”
“The Elders didn't appreciate the fire in my eyes like you have,” you scoff as you follow him outside. The wargs were already lined up waiting for their riders. Sukkori wags her tail at the sight of you and Kurakh. “With all seriousness, please try to be gentle with this Maid. She is likely not even twenty years old.”
“I'll make sure of it,” Kurakh mounts Sukkori swiftly. “I’ll task Galta with her care. She’s the gentlest option.”
“Gentle is not a word I would use to describe Galta, but it is the better option.”
Galta scoffs from a few steps away, “I heard that!” Even with the lack of sunlight, you could make out the warpaint on both of their faces. The dark red paint dripped from their foreheads and onto their cheeks. While the design was simple it got the point across.
“You’re lucky we don’t have any more to say Galta,” Kurakh laughs before returning his attention to you. “We’ll be careful.” The rest of the warriors make their way towards the gate around the two of you. “I must go.”
You grab his hand, causing Kurakh's breath to catch in his throat, “come back in one piece.”
He brings the back of your hand to his lips, “I promise.” He gently squeezes your hand before joining the group as they speed past the gate. Save for the guard closing the gate you stood alone in the yard. And you stood there until you could no longer hear the centaur’s hooves hitting the frosty ground. Once you made yourself go back inside you began to mentally scold yourself over your lovesick antics. With your mind so distracted you didn’t notice someone walk into the main hall behind you as you set up your triage.
“Didn’t want to go back to sleep I see,” a soft voice startles you from your work. When you looked up there was an Elven woman merely a foot away. Of course, you didn’t hear her coming.
“There was no point, I would’ve just laid awake with worry.”
“I’m the same way when my brother goes out on those missions. I’m Artenna,” she extends her hand. You first noticed the delicate and glowing tattoos that littered her pale hands. It was difficult to pull your eyes away from the faint pink light as you shook her hand. “Sorry, I probably should have given you a warning.”
“You’re a hypnotist?”
“Yes, I promise I’m not as scary as the King makes us sound.”
“It’s not that, I’ve never met a hypnotist before. It’s a niche field of magic, even before the decree.”
Artenna shrugs, “it depends on where you are. My mother also said it used to be more common when she was a child. Can I help you with anything?”
You glance around to see if there is anything left to do, “not at the moment. I already sped through everything I could do. Unless you wouldn't mind keeping me company until they return?”
“It would be my pleasure,” she smiles and sits on a bench across from you. Thankfully Artenna proved to be pleasant company as you exchanged stories, jokes, and camp gossip. After some time passes you both venture outside. The sun was finally over the horizon, signaling for you to continue preparations, and for the rest of the camp to rise. Artenna helps you break the ice and carry water from the well. The luxury will only last a few more weeks until the ice is too thick to break. Then the camp will have to rely on melting snow.
With the last bucket you were willing to carry in hand, the sound of hooves began to echo through the valley. It was urging you to hurry back into the main hall. Setting the bucket beside your tools, hoping no one else will try to use it. As much as you didn’t want to be scolded by Schelura, you quickly shove your hair into your linen cap. Infections are always worse to treat in the winter.
You didn’t know what you expected when the warriors returned, but it wasn’t the Lieutenant being carried in by Kurakh. “What happened?” Kurakh quickly sets him on a table before you.
“He poisoned himself, and we don’t know what he used,” Kurakh grumbles. Galta quickly approaches beside you, with a vaguely familiar shadow cloaked in blue. “Their Maid also doesn’t know what he could’ve taken. The officers are cowar-”
“It’s new, all high-ranking officers are supposed to take it if they get captured,” a meager voice interrupts.
“What is your name,” you glance at her as you roll up your sleeves. Her fair skin was red from the wind and her deep blue eyes were wide in shock.
“Yulla.”
“Cut off his armor and enough of his shirt so I can access his neck,” you reach for your satchel with determination. “Kurakh we’re going to need charcoal, and more wood added to the main fire.” He thankfully didn’t question you and made haste. It didn’t take you long to find your most treasured tools. A tiny iridescent blade that was easily the size of your hand, and almost as thin as your fingers. And a cast iron press of Eia’s true sigil. You carefully set it on the table before searching for other ingredients and bandages.
Yulla sees it and immediately stops in her tracks, “is that a Kisarvuhevstabler?”
“Yes, is he ready,” you didn’t even look up as Kurakh returned with a small bowl of charcoal. Muscle memory takes over as you begin to mix your ingredients in a brass bowl decorated with ancient runes. Before Kurakh gets comfy you push the cast iron press towards him, “this goes in the fire. Long handle facing out obviously.”
Before Kurakh could take it, Yulla attempted to smack his hand away, “Elder, are you insane?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Blood magic is forbidden!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, “it’s only been forbidden for the past six years. While Maids of Eia have used this magic for centuries. I’m not throwing centuries of tradition down the drain, simply because our King gets nauseous at the thought of it. Now you are going to watch and learn a technique that can no longer be taught in the temples, or Commander Galta can find you something else to do. He doesn't have much time left.” Yulla doesn’t respond or leave, conflict written all over her face. You spare a glance at Galta who looked as equally concerned as Yulla. “Galta we’re going to need a bucket that we’re not afraid to get dirty.”
When Galta steps away from the table, Yanna takes the opportunity to stand beside you. You place the bowl on the table, “the potion is made with crushed unicorn horn, charcoal, and stinging nettle. I’ll tell you the exact amounts later.” With a deep breath, you pick up the blade and remove it from its sheath. “It doesn't have to be a Kisarvuhevstabler for the spell to work. They are more a sign of status, to show you know the magic.”
You take a second to examine the disheveled Lieutenant laid before you. His skin was paling, a mysterious gray forming around the mouth. And his veins looked as if his blood turned black. His breathing was ragged, but strong enough to tell he was alive. It appeared as if he wasn’t able to finish the full dose of the poison considering he survived the journey from the battlefield. By now a crowd has formed around the table, and you try your best to ignore them. The sound of an empty bucket hitting the floor signaled it was time to begin.
With the iridescent blade in your right hand, you turn to Yulla, “I will need you to turn him towards me when I give him the potion. But first, the bucket should be closer to where he will vomit when he is turned.”
“Understood,” she quickly moves the bucket before getting into position. You take a second to scan the crowd, surprisingly unable to find Kurakh anywhere. With a deep breath, you move the blade closer to your left wrist.
The blade pierces your skin, immediately stinging. In the ancient tongue, you pray, “Noble Eia, hear my prayer as I spill my blood as a testament of my conviction to thy doctrine.” As you drag the blade up your arm diagonally, blood pools atop your skin. As soon as the first drop hits the bowl the runes carved inside begin to glow. “Hear my prayer so I may rid this soul's vessel of poison. Hear my prayer so I may heal in thy name.” The pain finally catches up to you, causing the blade to fall on the table.
You steady yourself by leaning on the table, “hear my prayer so this blood is not wasted.” You force yourself to push through the pain, picking up the blade and using it to stir your blood and the ingredients together. The room was silent around you, and every eye was focused on you. You gently lift the bowl to the Lieutenant’s lips, coaxing him to swallow the potion. Once the bowl was empty Yulla tilted him towards you. Luckily for him, it didn’t take long for the potion to work.
The visible darkness in his veins crept up his chest and into his neck as the spell expelled the poison from his body. It was almost like tiny black snakes were writhing in his veins. At this point, you knew he would be saved, and now it was time to save yourself. Weakly you raise your left arm, keeping your wound above your heart, and turn towards the main firepit. The crowd quickly parts for you as you step away from the table. No one said a word to you, mostly staring at you in disbelief. With the silence, it was easy to hear the Lieutenant retch the poison into the bucket.
It was a struggle to move your body through the pain and blood loss. But you've done this before. As you neared the fire it felt like the world around you was spinning. Within the blink of an eye, you were on the floor. Crawling instead of walking to the fire. Many voices were shouting your name. But nothing could shake you from this trance. And none of them could save you from this, there was only one with that power. And you couldn’t help but mutter apologies in the ancient tongue, hoping for a sliver of mercy.
The world around you was slipping away, and all you could see was the hot iron in the coals. It felt like someone was kneeling beside you, trying to talk to you but there wasn’t much time to listen. You grab the handle of the hot iron, determined to prove yourself. With no hesitation, you laid the flat end decorated with sigils and runes onto your wound. The scream that escaped you would be considered unholy by some, but to the clergy, it was one of obedience and understanding. The pain was blinding, no matter how many times you've done it. Perhaps that was the point. The iron was lifted from your arm, most likely not by you. And despite how much you fought it, the void consumed you.
#m orc x f reader#tpow series#the prize of war#original content#male orc x female reader#fantasy#high fantasy#orc x reader#exophilia#tpow
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This Must Be The Place: Chapter 10 - I'm just an animal looking for a home
Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader
Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Angst, betrayal mentions of grief, mentions of abandoned animals
I'm so sorry...is all I can say....
You didn’t tell Bucky how you felt.
How could you?
You had both agreed to enter into a casual, physical relationship, no commitments – no labels or heavy stuff. And it wasn’t just that you wanted to explore if it could turn into something more…you were in love with this man! You’d tried your best to deny your feelings, to remind yourself it was casual – a mantra you repeated to yourself over and over in your head like a prayer.
But praying wasn’t working.
You continued the same dance with him. The same routine, the same dynamic. Every tender kiss he gave you, every knowing look, every sweet word. Hell, even the teasing had you hooked. You were in too deep, foolishly wading further and further in, despite the rising water threatening to swallow you whole.
Not to mention the added complication of only being here temporarily…
You knew you should break it off. Withdraw from him and protect your heart. Even quit the bar to ensure you didn’t get hurt further down the line. But every time you tried, your resolve faltered as he smiled at you, as he scooped your hair behind your ear, and suddenly you were back in his arms as he weighted you like an anchor. Every part of you screamed to leave, to preserve yourself and protect your peace, but you simply couldn’t pull away. You never were very good at resisting temptation. And you always fell hard.
You tried to channel your energy into other things. Productive things. Distracting yourself from your inner turmoil. In the background you continued to chip away at Granny’s house: donating her belongings, putting stuff on local free pages, painting walls, varnishing wood, sorting her photos and keeping them safe. You still hadn’t fixed the damn fence yet, but you’d bought the wood at least. It was shaping up well.
One afternoon you were sorting through a closet upstairs, killing time before your bar shift and doing your best to keep your mind off you-know-who. As you stacked boxes and vacuumed dust, you came across a shoebox of mementos stuffed under some winter blankets. Pressed flowers, letters from Granny’s friends, souvenirs she’d bought on vacations. You smiled to yourself, always happy to find a piece of her as you rummaged. It felt wrong to throw this stuff out, this was a life lived.
At the very bottom of the box laid a musty, discoloured envelope. You picked it up, inspecting the yellowed paper. Written across the front, in Granny’s instantly recognisable scrawl, read ‘For the animal shelter’. You nearly choked up as you opened it, finding a stack of old bills sealed inside. Crumpled and worn dollars, mainly small bills, she must’ve added a buck or two here and there every time she had change. You counted it carefully – around $175 in total, meticulously grown over what might’ve been months...maybe years.
Granny had loved all animals, but she had a deep affection for cats and dogs. Especially the senior ones, the disabled ones, the ‘difficult’ ones that nobody else wanted. You knew the shelter in town well, she volunteered there years ago and would often drag moody, teenage you along with her – not stoked to be mopping up elderly dogs’ pee or getting scratched up by some feral cat. But Granny loved them all, even if she did take more bites and scratches to her arms than you’d expect an elderly lady to manage.
$175 was hardly an earth-shattering sum of money, but it was a physical reminder of Granny’s passion for animals. Adding a dollar ever so often from her pension, the odd cleaning job she sometimes did around town – this was a labour of love. You closed the envelope back up and held it tightly to your chest as you felt the tears swim in your eyes, the least you could do was get it to the shelter for her.
You got to work – calling the shelter and explaining, the lady on the phone remembered your Granny and was delighted to hear from you. You shared anecdotes about Granny’s shelter days, laughing fondly about how fearless she was when giving the cats their baths, wearing oven mitts like armour. It felt good, like a piece of her was still with you.
You agreed you’d drop the cash off and hung up, carefully removing the wad from the envelope, and putting it in your purse. But after getting swept up in a myriad of tasks – cleaning, painting, organising, (occasional Bucky pining), the day got away from you. Before you knew it, it was dusk – and your shift was starting shortly. You threw on some jeans and a flannel shirt, grabbing your purse and heading out to your car. You’d go to the shelter tomorrow, instead.
As you sat in the driver’s seat, your phone buzzed. You picked it up and read the message from a number you didn’t recognise.
Hey…It’s Peter, from the snake pit? I asked you for your number a few weeks ago? From the plant...you probably get hit on all the time so I wanted to specify. Sorry I haven’t been in touch, I thought I lost the napkin you wrote your number on but just found it again. I’d still love to hang out if you wanna?
You smiled to yourself. You’d forgotten about Peter!
Bucky had made sure of that.
You still liked him, but now the plot had thickened with Bucky you couldn’t really meet up. If you were honest, your heart was with another man…even if you weren’t sure how it was all going to pan out. It would be wrong to lead Peter on while you were…distracted.
You didn’t have the bandwidth to compose an eloquent text that said all that kindly, so you put your phone down and made a mental note to respond later.
*
The Snake Pit was already pretty busy when you arrived, a steady thrum of activity at the bar as Tom panickily tried to keep up with the beers being ordered by a large group of rambunctious guys. One was dressed in a pink and fluffy tutu, but nothing surprised you working here. You greeted Steve as you moved behind the bar and jumped into work. He was holding a security camera again.
“Bachelor party,” he said nonchalantly as he fiddled with a screwdriver. “Been here a while”.
“I figured,” you laughed as you gestured to the man in the pink. “Looks fun”.
Steve grunted in response and carried on with his task.
“Camera gone again?”
“Mm. We got the repair guy coming tomorrow. Just seeing if I can get it working for tonight as we got a blind spot over the bar”.
“Damn thing,” you muttered as you moved to serve another customer.
Bucky suddenly appeared from the back office, shooting you a warm smile as he passed.
“Hey, Sugar,” he said softly.
“Hey Buck. Busy tonight,” you replied as you gave the customer his drink. You felt a surge of butterflies as Bucky beamed at you.
“How we like it. Let me know if you need any help back here, okay Sug? Happy to jump in and save you if needed,” he grinned as he leaned over the bar and looked at you devilishly.
You nodded bashfully as he winked and headed over to the rest of the MC in their usual corner.
As you looked back at Steve, he was watching you questioningly.
“What?” you asked, a little sharper than intended as you felt his piercing gaze.
Steve didn’t respond, he just looked over at Bucky then back at you. He knows, he definitely knows. You felt your face flush, but Steve didn’t elaborate – going back to his broken camera as if nothing had been said.
*
The night rumbled on; all business as usual. Steve couldn’t get the camera working so eventually took up his usual post in the corner booth, overseeing the kingdom.
The bachelor party kept you busy, ordering huge rounds at a time – multiple shots and mixed drinks. At one point, feeling a little overwhelmed, you glanced over at Bucky who was already looking over in your direction. You didn’t say anything, but he saw the fatigue on your face and nodded – making his way over. Wordlessly he slipped between you and Tom, easing the workload, and taking a few orders. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze under the bar, a silent thank-you for coming to help. His eyes met yours and he smiled, and for a second it was just the two of you there – the noise of the bar fading to silence as you looked at one another.
The night continued, the MC playing pool and darts and laughing as they mingled with the customers. Even Amber had turned up at some point, which surprised you, but she seemed to be having fun with her friends and didn’t try to talk to Bucky. Thor had somehow ended up wearing the pink tutu from the bachelor party, which made you laugh.
You worked alongside Bucky who would steal touches every chance he got, your waist…your hip…and you’d make conspiratorial eye contact before going back to work. It all felt right and easy, like it had always been the two of you here.
Maybe it was the energy of the room, or working shoulder to shoulder to Bucky, your sheer exhaustion, or the emotional punch of Granny’s shelter money earlier…but you found yourself hurtling towards a decision.
You were going to tell Bucky how you felt.
If he rejected you…that would hurt. But at least you’d know you tried. You wouldn’t always wonder what might have been, you wouldn’t beat yourself up years later about the question mark hovering over the one that got away. You’d be living your truth, that was the most important thing. Granny had taught you that. You owed it to her memory.
And if he reciprocated your feelings? What did that mean for you leaving?
Well…that was a little more complicated. But you’d figure it out.
“My place tonight, Sug?” Bucky whispered in your ear as you restocked the bottle fridge.
You nodded as you stood up, smiling as he cheekily patted your ass and glanced around to check he had gone unseen. You elbowed him playfully. “Down, boy”.
*
You felt yourself buzzing as the night drew to a close, practically vibrating with anticipation. You didn’t know exactly what you were going to say, you were just going to be honest and tell him everything. You felt a mix of nausea and excitement as you cleaned up.
“Gotta go…I got an early morning,” Tom said urgently as he rushed past you.
“Okay. See ya!” you shot back cheerily as he hastily waved and catapulted out of the door.
You wiped down the bar as Bucky cashed out the register. A few members of the MC sat on bar stools, sipping after-hours beers and shooting the shit. Amber and the girls were there too, giggling with Thor and admiring the tutu he was somehow still wearing all these hours later.
“All good?” Steve asked Bucky.
You looked up, surprised to see Bucky’s brow furrowed as he peered between the cash bags and a handful of receipts.
“The register is down some…” he muttered as he looked back at the receipts. “Nearly a couple hundred bucks…”
Steve mirrored his friend’s frown. “Weird…” he commented as he moved to look himself, picking up the receipts. “Normally we can be out $20-30 if someone hit the wrong button once or twice…but that’s a lot…”
“Yeah. Must be a mistake…” Bucky grumbled and turned to you. “Sug, were you aware of any register fuck-ups tonight?” his voice was calm, not accusatory. “Any chance Tom put through a glass of wine as a bottle or something?”
You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “Normally Tom tells me if he makes a mistake…and he’s been much better, lately. It was busy tonight so its possible mistakes were made, but I can’t think of anything that would cause such a large discrepancy…”
Bucky shrugged as Steve began to re-count the bills. “I’m sure there’s an explanation…maybe I’m just terrible at math,” he winked at you roguishly.
You smiled fondly at him as you contained to wipe up and Bucky disappeared into the back.
“Oohh who’s got sticky fingers??” joked Sam from his bar stool as he elbowed Scott. “Someone helping themselves to a lil’ bonus?”
The group laughed and mock accused each other. You began to giggle as Sam dramatically mimed a burglar stance and pretended to lean over the register to pilfer cash. One of the girls pretended to be a cop, chasing him around the bar with a box of napkins.
Everyone’s laughter and merriment was halted when Bucky suddenly re-emerged, shouting your name so loudly that each head snapped to look in his direction. The entire room was now silent as he stood facing you.
You felt your blood run cold. The tone he had used was never one you’d heard from him before. It was…icy and soulless. Even when he’d been mad at you he’d never called to you liked that. You blinked in confusion as he glared at you, his face an angry snarl. There were no traces of the softness and affection you’d seen in those same eyes just minutes before. This was the President of the Howling Commandos MC addressing you, not Bucky.
“Buck…” you started but he cut you off, lobbing your purse onto the bar in front of you.
You stared at it in confusion as he suddenly dipped his hand inside, throwing its contents out as you could only stare, your bewilderment fusing you to the spot and rendering you speechless. Your keys, your wallet, your water bottle all bouncing off the bar as the group began to protest.
“Bucky man what the fu-”
“Dude! Not cool! What?”
And then silence as he held up what he’d been looking for.
A wad of cash.
The room went silent again bar a few gasps and mumbled whispers. Your heart fell into your stomach as you realised what he thought it was.
“Bucky…that’s not-” you futilely tried to explain.
“What? It’s not what?” he barked as he slammed the cash onto the bar. His eyes were ablaze with rage. “Not the cash you stole from the register? Just a pile of bills that made its way into your bag?”
“No! No! It’s my Granny’s! I found it at her house!” you shot back desperately, your voice high from the horror of the accusation. “She wanted to donate it…I found it in an envelope in her closet. I was going to drop it off today but I lost track of time and-”
“Save it,” he warned through gritted teeth. “Don’t lie to my face. Don’t try and use your dead grandmother to cover up your lie”.
You blanched, your face crumpling as you took a step back in horror. How…how could he think this of you? How could he say that?
“I’m not lying,” you said softly.
“Can we check the security footage?” Sam asked calmly. “If she says she didn’t do it…the footage will show that-”
“That camera’s out,” Steve interjected monotonously. “Blind spot”.
“And she knew that…” Bucky snarled.
“I didn’t do it,” you squeaked out, the humiliation swelling as tears fell down your face. You could feel the collective gaze of the Howling Commandos on you but were too mortified to look at them.
“If she says she didn’t do it…” Nat reasoned, but Bucky cut her off as he glared at you.
“I can’t believe you’d do this. After everything. I give you a job here. I get you all set up. I trusted you…I…I…” he looked pained, running his hand through his hair.
You thought he was going to say something about the two of you, but you watched him swallow and look around, then he suddenly seemed to remember the others were there. You tried to explain yourself, babbling with objection but he continued to talk over you.
“I…And you lied to my face about it? And even now I’m holding the money and you still deny it? And you know the worst thing? If you needed cash…I would’ve helped you out. If you had just asked rather than stuck your hand in the register…Shit. Is this the first time? Or just the first time you got caught? Have you been doing it since day one?”
“Buck…” Steve said, his tone difficult to establish.
Your insides swirled as your eyes focused on the discarded purse in front of you. You simply couldn’t believe he would do this to you. In front of everyone. Did he really think you were a thief? That you were capable of such a thing? That you’d lay in his bed and kiss him awake each morning, hold him tightly and whisper sweet nothings to him, then steal a few dollars from his business? Did he really think you’d risk your job and your relationship with him for less than two hundred bucks? Did he think you’d do that to the person you loved?
Well. Yes. Clearly, he did.
Your heartbreak became something hotter as your tears felt warm on your face. You thought about the betrayal of him digging through your bag in the back office, despite being sweet as pie to you beforehand. How he didn’t believe you, didn’t even want to hear you out. It was clear he had never trusted you. Even after everything. It suddenly hit you that he could never return your feelings, not if this is how he treated you.
Your hands twisted into fists at your sides, and you finally looked up at him, your face flushed, your hairline sweaty.
“I didn’t do it,” you told him flatly. He scoffed and tried to interrupt but you kept going, your voice starting to even out as your anger focused and grounded you.
“I told you. That money is for the animal shelter. Don’t believe me? Call them. I spoke to them about it today. I told them I was dropping off $175 in cash from Granny”.
You picked up the bills and pushed them into his chest. “Look at them. Look at how old they are, how they’re obviously stale and untouched. They’re not fresh out of a register from some guy’s wallet, they’re old and they’ve clearly been in stored somewhere a bundle for a while”.
You snatched them away and forced them into Steve’s hands. “See?”
He looked down at them, his brows furrowed with concern as one of his fingers ran over the crease of the pile. His eyes flickered to Bucky then back to you. “They do look kinda old…”
Bucky didn’t speak, but you saw a suggestion of panic in his eyes.
“I don’t steal. And I don’t need this job,” you barked, throwing the cleaning rag onto the ground. “I don’t work for people who don’t trust me. Maybe ask your buddy Tom about this, the guy who still can’t get through a shift without at least one fuck up, who also knew about the camera, and and zoomed outta here like he’d just been paroled”.
“Tom wouldn’t…” began Bucky but you cut him off again, your tone dripping with venom.
“Stick this job up your ass. Stick your head up your ass. And keep the damn cash. I’ll fund the donation myself”.
You threw the cash at Bucky who flinched. His eyes suddenly wouldn’t meet yours. You then picked up the tossed items from your purse and quickly shoved them all back in, your hands shaking. You wiped your eyes on the the back of your hand and looked up at the MC, who all stared back at you solemnly. Their expressions ranged from confusion to pity.
You nodded at them, then made your way to the door on wobbly legs.
“Wait…” called out a voice.
You turned, coming face to face with Amber who watched you with interest. Your heart sank. You couldn’t take anything else. Alright. She won. Take him. Just leave you be.
“I believe you,” she said gently, then offered a small, sad smile.
You smiled back as you choked on your surprise, chewing on the sides of your mouth as you tried to stop the tears. Who would’ve thought she’d be your one ally?
“Thank you, Amber”, you managed quietly.
Bucky had his back to you, seemingly unable to face you. Coward, you thought.
And then you were gone.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes#this must be the place fic#biker!bucky#motorcycle club au bucky
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Normality [part 1]
Sypnosis:
How it's like living in a SAGAU cult Teyvat without getting hunted or declared the creator.
Warning:
Y/n is not mentally okay and needs therapy, angst?
— [More under the cut] —
You rest your head lazily on the counter, the rice cake soup you ordered has long been finished yet you can't find the strength to stand up and leave.
“Mr/Ms Y/n, it's time to leave.”
A familiar voice speaks but you make no effort to face her.
“5 more minutes.”
A sigh escapes from their lips as she softly runs her finger through your hair.
“Y/n, i know it's hard for you but the decree is for your own good.”
A self deprecating scoff escapes your lips as you lift your head up and look at her with defeated eyes.
“For my own good? This… stupid decree did nothing but cage me in the Tenshukaku. Doing nothing after a bunch of nothing, i feel like i'm losing my mind every second i spend there.”
You run your hands through your face, a heavy feeling descending on your body.
“Miyuki i–i don't want to go back. Can we stay here for a bit… please?”
Seeing your distress Miyuki decided to postpone your retrieval, motioning for the soldiers nearby to stand in wait.
Things haven't always been like this, life after your arrival here hasn't been good but at least it wasn't bad, at least this bad.
The existence of other people who look like you in this SAGAU world meant you didn't get hunted, instead people saw you as a blessed person given the looks of the creator.
This brought it's pros and cons but through sheer determination, luck, and pride you didn't end up like the others and actually managed to live independently by yourself.
You were proud of what you had, finally in your dull life you have managed to achieve something with your own two hands. Yes you live in a small apartment and work as a simple assistant cook of Kiminami restaurant but it was fine, the world looks more colorful and you couldn't wait to see how better things would go.
.
.
.
A few months ago nobody knew why but many of your look-alikes kept disappearing, never to be seen again.
This threw the world into chaos as they tried to find the culprits while more and more of them disappeared. The Raiden Shogun even declared that all people blessed with the image of the creator must be kept in the Tenshukaku to be guarded and protected.
The air is thick with constant tension at the Tenshukaku, especially for you and your buddies, some couldn't take it and dealt with themselves or fled the Tenshukaku to hide in the wilderness, never to be heard from again as far as you know.
That's why you're here today, hunched over a stool in Kiminami restaurant, desperate to experience even a hint of normalcy you once had.
You probably gave the shrine maiden assigned to you, Kuki Miyuki, a heart attack with your "escape" but you're not dumb enough to follow the others towards certain doom.
As Miyuki guided you back towards the Tenshukaku, surrounded by soldiers and curious passerbys you couldn't help but wish for the normalcy you once had.
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This is a Sigyn appreciation post
per a conversation with @hiddenhearthwitch yesterday, I felt there needed to be more Sigyn appreciation here on Tumblr (within the Norse Pagan community as a whole)
There's so much talk of Loki and his confinement, his role in the bringing of Ragnarok etc. Loki deserves the spotlight.
But there's not enough talk of Sigyn. About how we know little to nothing of her except her devotion and dedication to her family. Can we please appreciate the heartbreak and physical pain she must be experiencing?
To recap: Loki's punishment for killing Baldur is to be bound by a chain made from the entrails of his son with a snake above his head dripping poison onto him. Sigyn then dutifully stands there, holding a bowl to catch the poison, only leaving to empty the bowl and return to her husbands side.
Her arms have to be killing her. Her legs must want to give out at some point. She's enduring so much physical discomfort to give Loki a scrap of comfort in his torment. Not to mention the emotional/ mental trauma of having her own child's entrails be what binds her husband, and having to hear Loki's screams when she has no choice but to leave his side for a moment.
Some would probably say Sigyn is doing this because she's 'traditional' where a wife has to stay by her husband's side no matter what. I think its more about her own love though. In my experience working with the Norse Pantheon, there's a ton of agency and advocacy for setting boundaries from the Gods, which leads me to believe Sigyn absolutely could walk away if she wanted to. She's not held down by 'tradition'.
I think she stays out of love, out of a devotion so deep it's painful, and nearly impossible to understand. Who can fathom putting yourself through such physical and emotional pain to protect your loved ones? She's choosing to stand there, to save Loki from as much pain as she can spare him from, because every drop she collects is a moment of reprieve in his torment.
I think the only way she endures is through nostalgia, as Faye eloquently put it "the kid you get enraptured in and it feels so beautiful and then suddenly there's a pang in your chest and you're at a loss for words"
How can Sigyn endure the physical and emotional pain? She dissociates. She has to. In my belief she handles everything by disappearing in her mind to simpler times, to remembering the beauty of her life with her loved ones before everything went to shit. It doesn't matter to her why things went to shit, or whose to blame for it. What matters is things suck, her husband is in pain, and she loves him so much she'll do anything she can to help him.
Maybe she should walk away, but at the end of the day its her choice, and I think there's something hauntingly beautiful about making the choice to stay.
If you want to understand the kind of nostalgia, listen to this song and picture Sigyn holding the bowl, trying not to show her own pain while she remembers lying in a warm sunny field, enjoying a simple, peaceful moment in a different time.
Just, show her some love, because she's giving everything she has to Loki, and she's doing it because she loves him.
#norse mythology#norse heathen#norse paganism#norse gods#Sigyn#Loki#I get it now too not only as a partner in a marriage but as a mother#there's no thoughts just instinct on how quickly i'll make sure my husband and baby are cared for#before i do anything for myself
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Allies or Enemies - three
disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest
pairings: Dragonborn!bucky x f!reader
Summary: The reality of her cruel world is more evident than ever before when her stepfather sends her to her death under the guise of diplomacy. Y/n, the expendable daughter of a scared king, must find a way to secure her own protection among the Dragonborn and she will do that by whatever means necessary.
Warnings: nothing
Word count: 3.8k
Author’s note: there are two povs here and I didn’t add who’s they were on purpose *cue evil laughter*
Ari-Hengot means ‘my leader’ in Draconic (based on the very unhelpful google search I did so if it’s wrong it’s not my fault)
series masterlist | two
taglist: @blackbirdwitch22 @alyeskathewave @learisa @screechingfangirlaf @oh-gods-its-a-dragon @globetrotter28 @mostlymarvelgirl l @salvatoreitmeanssaviour
The words spoken by the sick and ignorant spread like wildfires; drawing close to any unattended wilting blade of grass and engulfing the field in a raging blaze within minutes. What happens now is a question on the lips of every poor farmer as they watch their life’s work burn to nothing but ash and broken spirits. No amount of water and tender hope can rebuild the life that’s been destroyed in seconds.
Much is the same with the towns where the cowardly king’s words are as revered as their holy books.
“Where is she?”
A woman stared off into the distance, looking through the thick trees and towards the small village where the girl lived. The man who had spoken off to her side huffs at her silence, growing impatient with her and the cold wind that sends another shiver down their spines.
“In a small cabin towards the back of the village, the furthest side from us,” she finally answers his question as she looks back at him, her violently red eyes blinking rapidly in adjustment.
He tries not to flinch at the unnatural glow of her eyes but fails miserably as he speaks, “Is there anyone with her?”
It’s her turn to huff, “You couldn’t have asked me that when I was looking?”
“Well I never said to look away. You did that on your own accord.”
Rolling her eyes, she looks back towards the village.
“It looks like there are two men next to the door but that’s all I can see. We need to get closer if you want me to see more.”
“Of course, I need you to see more than that.”
The woman narrows her eyes at him and he looks between her and the cabin.
“You have a horse or legs if you feel inclined to actually do any work,” he gestures to both items and then points towards the village, “Get to it.”
“Haha very funny,” she sarcastically laughs, yanking her horse’s reins to the side and leading it away from her male companion.
“Wanda,” he calls after her, his horse not trailing far behind hers.
“No, you absolute ass. You dragged me to this cold barren, disgusting, foul…”
He cuts her off, “Wanda.”
“No, do not interrupt me,” her head whips toward him, her headscarf slipping down to reveal a wave of red hair as she rips into him with her words, “You dragged me here, teased me like I’m a commoner, and then demanded things from me while still expecting me to cooperate. You’re dumber than a donkey if you think that I’m going to walk or force my horse to do so in the snow just to see a few more feet than I did before. I'm not doing it. Work with what I gave you or go scout it yourself!”
When she is done and can see past her rage, all she sees is his stupid smirk and she kicks her horse, demanding to be taken far away from his smug attitude.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbles under his breath and takes off after her.
Wanda, the red eyed and haired woman, dismounts her horse the moment she reaches their base camp and passes off the reins to a lowly soldier who grumbles at the leather that falls into his lap. Marching straight through the small camp of seven tents, she pushes aside the heavy red fabric that make up the center tent and storms in without a care in the world.
“If you ever put me with Samuel again, I will send a wind storm into your tent and rip you from your bed the moment before you finish with a woman,” Wanda sneers at me.
I glance up at her with a ghost of a smirk before looking back at the papers and writing something on a map that is nestled on top.
“Excuse me,” she demands as she marches to the table, “Did you hear what I said?”
“I did,” I answered without looking at her and looking at his maps.
“Are you going to say anything?”
I don’t respond as I continue to write and draw on the map, charting out our journey home.
“Wanda, I was joking,” her riding companion and my second in command, Samuel, calls after her as he pushes into the tent, taking note of her irritated state and my unbothered one.
“Get out,” she nearly barks at him, pointing at the entrance as her red eyes flare and a breeze sweeps in, “now.”
Samuel shakes his head at her, ignoring her as he walks over to the table and brushing past her as he does so. She physically recoils, causing her headscarf to fully fall and scoffs at the brazen touch. She looks wild with her dirty hair spilling out around her and her sanguine eyes narrowing at him.
“Ari-Hengot,” Samuel starts, “I asked her to tell me if anyone was in the house with the girl and all she gave me was two men but wasn’t able to see anyone else. Is it really so wrong of me to suggest she gets closer if that’s what she needs to be able to see more? I feel like that’s pretty reasonable.”
“You told me that I had legs and that I could walk. In the snow.”
The two start to argue like children in front of me, causing me to drop my quail back into the inkwell and straighten myself to my full height while I clear my throat to get their attention.
“Wanda, Samuel,” I warn, his voice low and commanding before looking at Wanda, “Can we move tonight or do we need to wait?”
“Yes, it looks like there’s only one person with her at all times. We should move tonight before they start to notice someone’s been watching them. It’s only a matter of time before they see a group of brightly colored tents close by,” Wanda snipes as she stuffs her hair back into her headscarf and pulls her thick red coat around her tighter.
I nod in approval of her answer regardless of her sass. I’ve never cared if she lashed out on me, disrespected me the way a soldier should never do to their captain however she wasn’t really mine to wield nor could she control me. Regardless of our dynamic lieutenant and captain, We have a long standing agreement to never use their status or titles against each other. Being the daughter of a well respected human ally to the Dragonborn and a newly appointed lieutenant, Wanda was known to have a tongue that could cut like the cold winter wind and soothe the wounds when she wanted. I had learned very quickly to stay in her good graces to protect myself from her wrath and she, in turn, protected me from the crushing weight our leaders gave me.
“That’s not what you said earlier,” Samuel argues, growing angry that I would so casually accept her appraisal of the situation without a second thought. Him and I may have known each other for several years longer, it is still Wanda that has made any headway in our mission.
“You didn’t ask what I thought. You assumed that because I could only see to the girl that I would say no but,” she turns back to me, “we should make our move now. We only have the snow storm for a few more days and after that, we won’t have cover anymore.”
“Samuel, you may leave now.”
He makes a noise of annoyance about how Wanda’s word always outweighs his but leaves nonetheless. Both of us will soon hear how wounded his ego is but for now it’s not our concern.
“And your visions?” I ask once I’m sure that Samuel is gone and no longer in earshot.
Wanda flinches but shakes it off as she occupies her hands and mind with a thread on her coat, “It has to be tonight and soon or we lose hope of getting her altogether.”
Getting the confirmation that I need, I round the table and come to stand before her. Placing my large hands on my arms and pulling at them, I silently ask her to look at me.
“You’ve done well,” I mummer to her, a smile wide on my normally frozen face.
She wrinkles her nose at my praise but accepts it nonetheless. Peeking under my arm she spots the map that I’d been working on. Fear and anger rise up in her as she looks over what lies behind us.
The map is of our lands, stretching as far south as the Unsea and as far north as York. The tiny village that we are encamped by sits in the northernmost mountains of York, placing us deep within enemy territory.
A dotted line marks a route back to Devora and she gasps at where the route has to cross through.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” she almost shrieks as she pushes under my arms and points at my handiwork which does mark a path through certain death.
“He’s been found in their capital, ” I state as I join her at the table’s edge.
“Well then congrats to the Coward King,” she scoffs, “but what business do we have going through there?”
I look at her like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “We’re going to get him on our way back.”
“No we are not.”
“And why not?”
“It’s…” she pauses, searching for a valid reason to avoid the capital city of York, Brookshire, “your personal vendetta against him is not a reason to risk all of our lives. We will be killed as soon as we are within sight of their walls.
“I’m sure we can devise a way to get in,” I tell her while I start to cover the map, “and it is not a matter of my personal issue with their king. It is a matter of political correction.”
“Political correction? Have you been taking lessons with Stephanos?”
I offer her a small smirk instead of words as I rub at the spikes on my jawline, my scales reflecting the fire’s blaze at Wanda.
“I shall ask again; are you trying to get us all killed?”
I don’t drop my smirk but add to it with a shrug,“Isn’t that how all great military leaders die? In search of a great treasure for their people? ”
Wanda scoffs at her captain’s undesirable need to prove that I am the best, “We are not treasures. We are people no matter what they say.”
“Ah but you Wanda are the greatest treasure that this world has to offer,” I tell her while I grip her shoulders.
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, you know that,” she sighs. A shiver passes through her and it’s then that I am reminded of how…fragile humans are. York is not a warm place; both in manners and climate but here in their mountain range it is far colder than anything that Wanda would’ve experienced before. Her entire body shakes when the wind brushes through the tents and pushes her way to the front when there is a fire. Some of the others have taken to giving her warm clothing or fabric they find when we pass a village. A few times she’s come to my room at night and wordlessly crawled in, hoping that she would find a pocket of warmth in the thick blankets I collect.
Outside of the tent, I hear Sameul shouting at the others, demanding they be ready within the hour. Footsteps crunch in the snow and horses protest against the cold beneath their feet. This new country is nothing like any of our homelands and it proves to be a worthy adversary as many of us fail to conquer or even assimilate to its conditions. During our nearly year-long expedition, we’ve lost nearly half of our party and things do not look to be any better if we can’t get to her. Soon.
“Praised be the Sfant!”
An elderly woman cries as she shuffles her dying husband out of the small cabin. A hovel really is a better term for the bare shelter that I’m being housed in held captive in. With only two rooms, one being a tiny bedroom and the other the main living quarters, I have little room to practice my ‘gifts’. Although my guards, my captors truly, have clasped thick cuffs wrists to prevent me from leaving. The first time I attempted to run, a thin red string had connected me to my guards and led them directly to me.
I learned to ignore my desperation for freedom rather quickly afterwards.
I try to smile at the woman and allow my body to slump when she is gone. The ache in my bones has not gone away since I woke up in that freezing tower room. Pepper, all too gleeful, explained to me that immediately following my fainting spell, the guards on Anthony’s command attacked the Dragonborn and ‘rescued’ me from the ‘bastardly demons’. My mother had been lost in the battle but Anthony miraculously survived and managed to use her death as yet another example of Dragonborn violence towards York. It became clear with the more I was told that it wasn’t a Dragonborn sword that killed her, it had been a human one.
I’ve grown to believe that it was Anthony’s however I have nothing but hatred and vengeance to support my claim.
Two men, tall, pale, and unnerving, are slumped in the two chairs that were left in the cabin. The taller one, a man with cropped golden blonde hair and a beard to match, is watching her intently with light eyes that unnerve me when I meet them. The other is a dark haired man with similarly cropped hair and facial hair is picking at his fingernails with a knife.
Jonathan, the blonde, stands and places a table in front of the door as an alarm if anyone were to attempt to break in. He tosses a piece of bread to Brock, the dark haired one who gestures towards one of the rooms with the bread as he speaks to me, “Time for bed.”
I can’t help when my eyes roll on their own at his request and instead I decide to clean the altar around me instead. Candles, herbs, and jewelry as well as a book lay around my kneeling body, artifacts from the ineffective ritual I’d just performed. The woman had begged Jonathan and Brock for days to let her husband be seen by me but the two men merely waved her off in hopes that a person with a bigger purse would come by. Finally after sitting at the doorstep day after day, I took pity on her and allowed her in before the assholes could say a thing.
Her husband had been poisoned, the woman claimed as she wiped at his sweaty brow and held him. One look at the black veins that crawled up his neck and were threatening to overtake his face let me know enough; the man had been poisoned but there would be no way for her to heal him. I could only offer remedies to ease his pain and end his life swiftly in his sleep. Dabbing oil on his temples, lips, and behind the ears would ensure that his death would come before the woman even made it to her own hovel.
“Y/N, now,” Brock snaps sternly, his dark eyes beginning to rage at my brazen actions.
I quickly turn my head, the chains and strings of gems that hang from my diadem swinging as I do so, “I’ll go when I’m finished cleaning.”
His eyes flash for a moment before he stalks over to me and rips me up by my arm. He knocks over countless expensive remedies and breaks what he didn’t spill in the process but he shows no concern for it all, not that he ever did. His grip on my arm is bruising and steel- like so I can’t tear myself free. Again my jewelry and other adornments clang together in a painful symphony as I’m dragged across the room; a stark reminder that I am nothing but a living doll to these people and to Anthony.
“You do as I say and quickly,” he grinds out through clenched teeth before slamming the door on me, leaving me in the dark and alone.
I let out a frustrated cry as I tear the undoubtedly priceless jewelry from my body and hair. Letting it clatter to the ground, I resist the urge to break it any further by stomping it or picking it back up to throw again. I’m left in my cuffs and thick layers of robes and dresses I’m forced to wear to look the part of their saint, the Sfant of the Great Rebirth. The heavy fabric becomes suffocating and I tear them off next, shedding the black robes that were embroidered in white and gold before nearly breaking off the buttons to the outer black gown. Similar to the robe, it too is embroidered with white and gold threads but within lays the signature blue of York. A part of me is tempted to burst out of the room in my chemise and throw the foul articles of clothing into the fire but I know I would not be fast enough. The foul men outside would hear my movements before I even made them and would stop me.
Instead, surrounded by the fineries of my captors, I crumple to the floor and cry into my hands. I cry for the people that I cannot save, the people that have died to protect me, for the people that I will inevitably fail, and for the girl that died that night. I cry for the life that I once had where I was insignificant, for the life that was stolen from me when I was bound to the Dragonborn, and for the life that I am forced to live now. I cry harder as the pendant against my sternum weeps and pulses wildly, screaming out to its other half to no avail. The pain and sadness that lives instead of its milky heart has never faded in the year since it was given to me. For an entire year I have felt my very soul being torn in a thousand directions and yearn for the one they all lead to.
I hear the scuffling boots of the men outside my door, no doubt muttering to themselves about how pathetic I am and I wipe at my nose with the back of my sleeve. I get to my feet and gather the reminders of my imprisonment before Jonathan opens the door. Ever the quiet and observing man, he narrows his eyes at me and then scans the room before shouldering in with Brock not far behind. It turns my stomach rotten at the idea of having to sleep in the same room as them but there is no alternative. The first week I had been with them, I tried to escape only to be met with a heaving Jonathan clad in only his pants on the other side of the window. Ever since then, he’s slept under the window and Brock slept in front of the door, leaving me with no way out.
Brock smirks at my state, puffy eyed and barely dressed, and goes to make a filthy comment but Jonathan shoots him a stern glare and the comments stay in his mouth. I should have thanked him for his “protection” but is it really protection when he helped take my captive?
Regardless of his part in my capture, I find myself drawn to him. He is the better looking of the two, tall and corded with muscles from years of training. When he enters a room, he has to duck to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. Since that night I had tried to escape, the sight of his broad muscular chest has not left my mind but I will it away. Instead I try to focus on the stubble of his short beard. Only a mask of stoic duty and harsh words live on his face but sometimes a small smile will take their place. I might have found myself peering at his full pink lips and then up to the pale blue eyes that hide beneath his lashes and thick brows.
But this is not another life and now only malice lives in my heart for him.
Jonathan jerks his head towards the small bed against the wall, silently telling me to climb into bed before Brock forces me to. Not wanting to suffer another bruising grip, I drop the items in my arms at the foot and climb in. I can feel him roll his eyes at my child-like behavior but he doesn’t say a word as he settles onto the cold floor beside me. Brock wishes us both a goodnight laced with something that makes my skin crawl as he too settles in. I quickly turn to face the wall and curl into a ball while my blood pounds in my ears.
Sleep doesn’t find me nor does rest in any form no matter how long I lay there. It feels like hours have passed when I hear something. Beyond the fire crackling and the men’s breathing, I can barely make out the soft crunch of hoofs on snow. My breath catches in my chest as the sound gets louder and the pendant begins to grow warm, nearly vibrating in nervous excitement. I clasp my hand around it as I force my lungs to slow down and try to regain my nerves. The buzzing in my hand has to mean one thing and if I am correct, Brock and Jonathan stand no chance.
A powerful stream of wind whips through the cabin and pins them to the ground, awakening them within seconds from the force. Instinctively I shoot up in bed and am met with the sight of a person covered head to toe in deep red cloth, leaving only their thin pale hands and unnatural red eyes to be seen. I’m so swept up in the stranger’s eyes that I fail to notice men pouring in around them. One thin pale hand removes the cloth covering her face to reveal a woman who’s beauty far outweighs any person that I've ever come across.
A human woman stands before her.
A human woman who commands Dragonborn Knights as if she’s one of them.
The woman cocks her head as she looks over me on the bed and says something in Draconic to a familiar hulking Dragonborn knight beside her. Jonathan growls at their words and struggles against the red wind that keeps him pinned in place.
With a smirk fitting for a snake, she says, “Hello Sfânt Y/N, we’ve come to take you home.”
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#marvel imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#dragon bucky imagine#dragon au#dragon bucky x reader#dragon x reader#dragon x human#allies or enemies bucky x reader#allies or enemies
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I want headcanons on dating a werewolf!lottie 🫡🫡🫡 like she would be an amazing werewolf so fluffy big and silly pls
A/N: Very sorry @sokestry, as always I started the headcanons without reading the full request before... I really should stop and think before doing these, but any other attempt I did today was MEDIOCRE so I kept this. I can make another set of headcanons more centered on the relationship, if you want! These past weeks have been rough on me, so blame university for my bad writing!
Warnings: fluff, implied start of relationship.
"Anyways, I'm sure there's nothing in it. You were probably just high. And why where you even there in the first place?" you joke half heartedly with Van. "And I continue to say, there was something! I am sure of it! And, that's none of your business". Van sits back in her chair, blushing slightly "Were you trying to recreate some scenes from your stupid slasher movies or were you hooking up with Tai?" Lottie joins the 'let's bother Van' game.
There was a rumor in town: the woods were haunted. Or at least, that's wat everyone who returned from them said. Couples which wanted to spend some 'fun time' togheter, groups of friends wanting to feel the thirll of something begin with them in the woods, all said the same.
At night, when everyone's asleep, something roams the woods, searching for introuders.
"Uh, let's not talk about that. I tell you, I heard something in the woods" she continues, "Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever you say Van". That last phrase must have made her mad, 'cause her fists slam heavly on the table and her voice becomes slightly more loud than usual. "If you are that sure of yourself then, come on! Go! I want to see if your shit eating grin will still be there when you go into the woods!".
Lottie sips on her drink, "I think she's right. Besides, it's not safe to go out at night alone. Who knows which creeps are around".
Lottie, your... 'friend' has always been at your side, ever since the start of college. Lately, her demeanor has changed: once she used to be more shy and reserved but her personality has taken a new turn around two months ago. Now, she couldn't stop begin around you and trying to protect you. Probably, Van's challenge was making her uncomfortable.
"What, are you a chicken?" Van ignores Lottie, "You will understand what I'm talking about once you go there".
The moon is high in the sky tonight, like a giant white marble piercing through the dark. The air feels cold, too freezing to be an early summer evening.
You try not to mind the countless of spines slashing at your irritated skin, which by now has started to leave a faint trail of blood down your leg.
Annoyance fills your brain and you mentally face palm yourself: you should have known that it was a bad idea agreeing to Van's.
No matter, you're here now.
The woods are eerily queit. The air feels suddenly thick and heavy. Every sound the forest made before has gone queit and there's onyl the sound of your own breath. And that of a branch snapping behind you.
The blood in your veins freezes and you halt your movments. How the fuck can a branch snap on it's own?
You quickly whip your head around to be met by a pair of golden eyes. You can't make out what this thing is, just that big.
It hunches over you, almost kneeling on the ground, trapped in between the pine branches.
Tired of it's position, it shrugs off and stands on it's back legs. Now you can make it more clearly: it's tall, really tall.
You tell your libms to move, to run, to spend every single amout of energy you have left to make a run for it. Anything to stay alive, anything at all. But you don't, you can't.
Your limbs feel like lead and your body is almost paralized, like a deer in headlights.
The creature ducks under a high branch and comes back up stumbling over it's legs. It's so tall that it can't move as freely has it wants. Nevertheless, it's agile enough to be in front of you in seconds.
For how much you can see, it's covered in fur and has a long mound.
It releases a puff of air on your face, like it's releasing some kind of tension from it's chest. It comes even closer, as if it's any more possible, and now you're eyeing it's chest. Close enough that you can see each individual fur and how the night breeze moves it.
Unconciusly you meet it's eyes, expecting to find something horrifying, something that will tear your face open; only to be meet with what looks to be a... dog.
A big, giant, fluffy dog. Well, it resembles more a brownish wolf. It has an eerie human look to it, like it can understand your fear completely.
It's has deep brown eyes -the yellow colour must've been the reflection of the fallen flashlight-, on it's forehead there's a small scar without any fluff covering it.
The big, giant, fluffy dog gets closer to you, it starts to smell around your face. It's attentive, trying to unederstand if you are a threath or not. If it knows you, or not.
You look in diesbelief when the big, giant, fluffy dog starts to wave it's tail behind it's back. In just a matter of seconds, it's on you: all that you can feel is it's fur on you, heavy breathing, the thump of it's tail and an occasional lick on your face.
With curiosity, you reach a hand behind it's left ear and scratch.
The creature falls to it's side and for a second you think it got hurt in some way, but it has adjusted so that you can pet it's belly.
When you do, it's starts to let out some light wines of approval. And you are even more confused.
You'd wish you could stay here longer, that you could spend more time with this thing -for how crazy that sounds- but you're getting cold -that's on you for not bringing a jacket- and most importantly, you fear that if you accidentally do the wrong move, the next thing that that thing will do is ripping your guts open.
You wait for the creature to be comfortable enough, then, ever so slowly you get up, careful to not upset it -or to not stomp on it's tail-.
Just some minutes later, it wakes up. Cold and alone.
The morning after your little adventure, you're begin pestered by Van, "So? Is Miss 'I'm not scared of anything' convinced now? Or did you chiken out?".
You can't let her know she was right, or you'd never hear the end of it.
"I'm not sure what you saw, but I didn't see nor heard anything" you say while trying not to show your nervousness. "Yeah sure. You have an habit of lying; I remember when we saw 'The Conjuring'. You acted all cool then the day aft-"
Lottie falls heavly on the chair next to yours and hides her face in her arms.
Both you and Van look at eachother before turning to Lottie, "Hey Lottie? Sweetie? Is everything ok?" she visibly shudders at the pet name, but tries to play it off. "Yes...Just a bit tired, that's all".
Lottie has a strange look to herself today. During summer she usually wears one of those skimpish outfits of hers, but today she's covered head to toe. It looks like she hasn't slept all night.
"Uhm... ok...if you say so", Lottie seems stranger than usual. She's looking at you with a certain sparkle in her eyes. And, as if you hurt her somehow.
Some weeks go by with Lottie behaving ever so strangely. When you've had enough, you decide to crash at her house without telling her both to see what's she's been up to and to make her annoyed.
It's eight pm when you climb and knock on Lottie's window, startling the poor girl. She's wearing a black tank top and a pair of shorts. She looks almost angry at the fact that you're here.
"Why are you here?" she huffs at you while falling back on her bed. "Oh come on Lottie. You've been acting weirder than usual, I just wanted to check ok you. That's what friends do".
A small whine leaves Lottie, "We... We are not friends". Freezing your movements, you look back at her. "What are we then, Lottie?"
She's about to answer you, when her words die in her throat. A shiver travels up her body as her body starts to morph.
When you try to get closer to her and help, she shows you back on her bed and tries to run away from you. But her legs are too weak.
You watch as your best friend becomes something else. The second she starts to change, something in your mind snaps and links everything together.
The transformation is so terrifying that you can't watch. When you look back, your best friend has morphed into the creature from the woods.
She looks almost ashamed of herself, trying to make herself become smaller and to evade your eyes. Her tail fits snugly into her legs while from her throat leave whines.
She almost jumps up when she feels your hand on her. You ran your fingers on her brownish fur while holding her.
You try to not show your terror, and hold her closer than possible.
"Don't worry... You're ok...". You stay with her until morning, when her body becomes hers again.
As soon as she returns back to normal, Lottie throws her arms on your shoulders and snugs into your neck. Tears stain your shirt and she sobs uncontrollably "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I-I'm this ugly thing... I was... I was scared of hurting you. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I did".
You sit in silence, trying to comfort her at the best of your abilities.
"So... Why did you jump on me that night?" Lottie's breath halts and you can feel her cheeks heating up on your skin.
"Huh... You really like me then!" Lottie shudders in your arms "Stooop".
#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you#yellowjackets#lottie matthews x reader#lottie matthews x you#lottie mathews x reader#yellowjackets fic#yj fic#yj
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A take I wanna have (please don't yell at me or attack me. Corrections might be okay, it's late for me and English is not my main language):
Edwin's love interests. Less to best for him.
Cat King on the less. I know. I love his character, he's very charismatic. I love the teasing and seeing how far he can push Edwin's limits and face his own feelings. I do live for that in some ships. Their dynamic is interesting but let's be real. Even if CK is an Entity and has 9 lives (currently only 6), Edwin is a ghost. Forever 16, forever existing. At some point the relationship would look and or feel weird. And tbh is the one that changed the less thanks to his interactions with Edwin. Edwin grew a lot (and learned a lot about himself) but Cat King? He still play games and yeah, he cares for Ed, but he's been like that since always. And to be loved is to be changed. Maybe the dying for Edwin when he tried to protect him from Ester and ended up dead counts for something, but he's too much in his idealistic bubble where at some point Edwin would fall for his charms. Maybe if he approached in a more friendly way and not trapping him in town, (a less Wattpad Cliche Way), maybe something could've come out better. And look, I love their teasing. I want CatWin being something before Edwin and Charles becoming an actual couple. I still want Cat King and Edwin playing with each other, who's smarter, who's sharper, who's one step ahead of the other, silly little games between them. I want Edwin appreciating Cat King's death for him. I want Cat King obsessed in a respectful way for Ed, appreciate him, praise him. And Ed just, panicking because too gay to function but at the same time, it's not who he wants to hear that from. Yet sometimes falls for that but he knows it's wrong for him.
Simon. We know he was his bully. He had feelings for Ed, and back when they both were alive, being like them was a sin. He only wanted to scare Edwin. Nothing else. If Edwin was able to forgive Simon in hell, understanding it wasn't his fault they both died (technically it is but nobody told them entities and ghosts are real so that wasn't on him), and even wanting to get him out of there, there were a reason. Also, both were sixteen. Still a lot to develop and think and experiment. It took Edwin 100 years to finally open up and be comfortable about himself. Maybe Ghost Simon could learn at the same time with Edwin as his teacher, since both were the same period. Could be interesting Simon revoked from death back to the living because he has unfinished businesses somehow and Edwin taking his case just to make things more clearer and give us a better chance to know why Edwin forgave him. Because just the "Oh, you were in love with me and you didn't know the sacrifice would actually work" doesn't sound enough reasons for someone like Edwin to break out an ex bully from literal hell. There is an explanation. There must be.
Monty. Just. Take away Edwin having feelings for Charles, and Monty being Ester's Familiar Crow. Otherwise, it could've worked. Not right away, but with patience, they could've been in a cute relationship. Monty caught feelings for real, and Edwin is too slow to understand, but at some point they'll both learn and well, lovers. I see Edwin on the aromantic spectrum, so, Monty would have to work his way and Edwin open up to get to like Monty. Or just accept they can be a platonic relationship and that can be good too. Also same issue as Crystal or any Living Entity. Age permanency. Could be a nice Teenage Love Story for Edwin and Monty, but not in case Monty is affected by human ageing.
And best by far, Charles. 30 years of being the married couple on acid. Both timeless, forever young, together by choice, each other's personal afterlife. They died when they had so much to live for. Now they can't be more alive thanks to each other. Even if they end up as platonic stuff and never end up being partners, there wouldn't be any complaining. Edwin loves Charles in a romantic way, and just knowing that Charles won't go away because of that is a total relief, and they have the eternity to find out of Charles does have romantic feelings as well. And reading a post about Charles being a People Pleaser and always saying or doing what others wanted so they like him and been trying to be on Edwin's good side to not push him away for 30 years, so, knowing that his best mate loves him must be a good reason to stop doubting Edwin.
Charles and Crystal are okay. I mean, I like their relationship just because they needed someone. Crystal admitted she could try if he were alive, but between her brainwash, the demon possession, everything happening, it's more like a distraction than an actual feeling. Maybe better writing and they could be her teenage love. After that, she'll grow up. He won't. (I know I said best partners for Edwin but I wanted to clarify my take on Crystal and Charles).
#dbda#dead boy detectives analysis#dead boy detective agency#dead boy detectives edwin#dead boy detectives cat king#dead boy detectives charles#dead boy detectives simon#dead boy detectives monty#dead boy detectives#dbdetectives#dbda headcanons#reallifetangent#rlt#reallifetangent writes
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This fic came straight from my feelings. I wasn't feeling very good, everything was overwhelming and i wanted to cry.
But it all inspired me well enough to write this fic, where Gale has a panic attack (so this is tw). Somehow making Gale feel at least a bit of what i felt, was very comforting to me.
Btw. This is UNEDITED (just letting you know and sorry)
Breathe, darling
He can't breathe. He's trying to catch his breath. Unsuccessful. He sees Bucky right in front of him, but he's blurry. He could recognise him only because... Well, who wouldn't recognise Bucky? With his broad shoulders and charming face. Dark brown curls, soft voice, whispering a low "are you okay?". He can see and hear those things, yet he can't bring himself to actually acknowledge them. His heart was pounding like it should jump out of his chest at any moment. His hands and legs were shaking. His fingers tapping on the mattress of the bed, unsteady and loudly. It was harder to breathe with every inhale he took. He was starting to choke. That's the first time he hears John's voice clearly.
"What is it? What's wrong, Buck?"
He couldn't get any words out. None of his senses were working. It was almost like he couldn't control his body at all. His eyes started to get watery and he felt tears were about to fall. He can't let that happen. Men don't cry. That's what his father always used to tell him. Men always have to be strong, crying is a weakness. It never occurred to him that Gale was merely a little kid, who just fell and had a bruise on his knee.
One wouldn't guess that trying not to cry would be this difficult. In his mind suddenly all he could think about was "do not cry, do not cry, do not cry", which made him want to cry even more.
While this was occupying his mind, he kind of forgot that he still needs to breathe.
"Buck, darling, you need to breathe, okay? You need to breathe for me, could you do that?"
And Gale could never say no, not when John calls him darling. Or any other pet name actually. It's almost a curse, John's words are sometimes too much for Gale. Too much love to bear. John took Gale's hand and placed it on his chest. Then placed his other hand on Gale's chest.
"Okay, why don't we try syncing our breathing, baby? Come on, up and down, just like me."
And so Gale tried. He focused on his hand on Bucky's chest and tried to match his breathing. Tried to catch his breath and get back to reality. Away from his mind. Away from his awful head. The worst thing is, even if John helps him to escape now... It's only temporary, he'll be trapped immediately again. Isn't it the saddest thing? Being trapped in your mind forever? How could people accept that and be okay with that?
Right now he wishes he could crawl into John's body, that his soul could intertwine with John's and that they'd become one. United forever. He quite likes the idea of John's protectiveness.
If he and John just could be together. But that's only if, and if belongs to fantasies and dreams. They both can't afford that, they barely have the time to afford whatever they're doing now.
"That's my boy, your breathing has calmed. Now let's keep it steady, yeah? Try to not get upset again, my darling."
John was about to pull his hand away, but Gale reached for his wrist and put it back on his torso again. He needed to feel John's touch, he reckons it might be one of the only things keeping him sane at the moment.
John understands. John gets Gale. It's the best feeling Gale thinks he'd ever feel. The way he and John know each other so deeply, their communication without words, they show their needs with a glance or an expression. Maybe after all their soul might as well be intertwined and if they're not they at least live next to each other.
And so John sits up next to him, standing up from his kneeling position in front of him and pulling him in for a hug. A very careful one though, he must have been scared to not squeeze Buck too much, especially after his trouble with breathing. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around Gale's waist, rests his chin on his shoulder and leans his mouth into his ear. If Gale would have been in his right mind he'd have freaked out heavily, but he's sort of not in his skin, still high on his panic attack.
"What happened, baby?"
John whispered. And Gale couldn't care less for the world and the expectations put upon them. Right now it was only John and him. John who was holding him close and whispering to his ear, while slightly caressing his lips on his neck. He didn't kiss him though, his lips were just hovering over the area. Almost like exploring.
"It was- i... uhmm"
He still couldn't say a coherent sentence. Bucky can sense it and turns him, so they're facing each other. And with the softest, most gentle voice he said:
"I know maybe you don't wanna talk about this and I'll respect it, if you don't. But don't you think it'd be better for you to say it out loud? And you know, maybe just tell me. After all, it's me, Buck. It's only me. You can tell me anything."
It's Bucky, it's only Bucky. So he tells him.
"I'm uhmm- I'm not very sure. I just wasn't feeling well, it's just a lot. All of it, i mean. Suddenly the air was suffocating me like when you're too high in the sky and you don't have a mask on."
"Oh, I'm so sorry-"
"It's okay. You handed me the mask, at the very last moment. You saved me."
"I believe that's exactly what I'm here for."
"Are you?"
"Yeah, cause i couldn't live with myself if something were to happen to you. And because you don't deserve to feel like you don't matter anymore. Or that you're not loved. Because you are, Buck. I love you and care about you. And if you need me to help you put the mask on again, just ask me, I'll find it for you. And if your hands would be too weak, I'll put it on and I'll make sure you'll breathe again. I'm with you, always and forever. It's you and me, Buck."
And after that, there was nothing more to be said. Buck couldn't even think of words to match these. Or some that'd make a good response. But when Bucky's looking at him expectantly, probably waiting for him to say something, he manages a quiet:
"You and me, Bucky."
Which seems to satisfy John as he smiles and lies on the bed. They're alone here. It's late at night, but everyone's at the bar. They were there too until Buck wasn't feeling well and excused himself from the room. He ended here, in the barracks, choking and trying to find breathable air as Bucky came to rescue him. The other guys will probably come back soon. They should go both to their beds. But John is currently lying in Gale's bed. And what's he to do about that?
So he lay down, put his head into the crook of John's neck and nuzzled his nose to John's pulse.
"The others will be back soon."
Gale mumbled. But none of them move an inch. After a long while, John said:
"Yeah. Are you feeling better though?"
And Gale wasn't sure what to answer. Sure, right now he was feeling really fucking good. He was lying next to John with their bodies touching whole. But his anxiety has increased lately. As well as his panic attacks.
"Yeah, I'm feeling better. I'm good. Thank you, John."
He doesn't say any of that. John already thinks he's fragile. In a very specific way though. Bucky knows Gale is very strong and he is the most composed and all that stuff. But he also knows what's stuffed under all of that. And that's this. Because every emotion he pushes down goes down there and one day that place will explode and Buck has no idea what will happen to him then. He just hopes John will be with him.
A noise. They hear chattering coming closer to the barracks. John's body jumps up and he lets himself have a second to calm down. He then looks at Gale, with those beautiful blue eyes and whispers to his ear:
"I'm here whenever. Don't forget about me, love."
He licks the shell of his ear and Gale shivers as John's wet tongue meets his skin. It was a gesture, Gale didn't understand what it meant exactly, but John was telling him something.
When he hears a click and the doors open, John is dutifully sitting on his bed reading his book. Gale didn't quite understand how he got there, but it didn't matter. He probably dazed away, too occupied with the linger of John's tongue on his ear.
He fell asleep as he was replaying the sound of John's "don't forget about me, love" in his head over and over again. And he thinks, how could he ever forget? How on earth could you forget about John Egan?
You simply can't.
#buck x bucky#clegan#gale cleven#john egan#mota#buckbucky#masters of the air#mota fanfic#fanfic#austin butler#callum turner#my feelings#vals mota drabbles
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will you play with me? (always, my love) - lee seokmin
word count: 2k
warnings: brief mention of bullying(?)
pairings: lee seokmin x afab reader
genre: playmates to friends, friends to lovers, lovers to ???? hahaha, fluff fluff fluff
a/n: this is a long one guys im sorry. of course, inspired by that song: Play With Me by Pagaehun & KKANBYEONGZ :)
*NOT YET PROOF READ! its 1:30am and i am tired! will proof read in the morning :)
*for this fic, lets just all pretend we are the same age as our beloved seokmin!! also, im basing the age and education level off of the korean education system!
when seokmin was 4 years old
''why are you guys picking on him?'' you said angrily with furrorwed eyebrows as you stomped over to the group of boys as fast as you could with your tiny feet. your tiny angry stomps coming closer to where your playmates (classmates?) were at. it had been playtime; free and easy. of course, there were your teachers to look after all of you kids, but the playground was so big! the teacher can't keep up with all kids, especially when a third of you were playing hide and seek.
''seokmin takes too long to find us! he's not very good at being IT, we don't want to play with him anymore!'' sunny, your classmate explained frustratedly with a pout, her arms folding over her small frame. ''you guys are so mean! doesn't that just mean that you guys are good at hiding? how can you blame seokminie!'' you defended your kindergarten classmate. this time, minseok, another classmate spoke up, ''he is just too slow! because of him, we are running out of playtime! we will have to go home soon and can't play anymore until tomorrow!'' how could they possibly blame him! you thought to yourself.
without bothering to say another word to your classmates, you held your small, delicate hand out to seokmin who was squatting sadly in the middle of all your other classmates while they surrounded him in a circle. ''come on, seokminie, if they don't want to play with you, it's okay! i'll play with you! is that okay? will you play with me seokminie?''
seokmin has heard tons of fairytales by age 4; some from kindergarten when the teachers were telling stories during recess, but also from mom and dad when they read him bedtime stories. so obviously, seokmin knows what love is. he knows how happily ever afters start and how they end because afterall, the teacher and his parents would never tell him things that are untrue, right? so, seokmin thinks to himself: she must be the one. because why else would you come to his rescue? that's how all fairytales start! and there must a reason why his cheeks are hot and his heart is beating so hard and fast. he thinks it could be because of the sun and the hot weather, but with him squating in the middle of 6 kids crowding around him in a circle while they are standing, he doubts its because of the sun and hot weather because he is in a well protected shade thanks to the kids.
seokmin held out his hand to reach for yours. he knows he should still be upset over what his classmates did but as soon as his hand touches yours, all the hurtful feelings and sad thoughts leaves his mind. suddenly, all he can think about is how safe your tiny hands feel and that you must be his knight in shining armour.
when seokmin was 15 years old
it was a change in environment for seokmin for sure, he was finally in high school with you, yes same school and same class. and right now, he is having his first gym class of the year. as soon as you were done with stretching, you hear your coach say ''alright, i want you guys to group yourselves in either a group of 3 or a pair and then we can start off with badminton .'' seokmin PANICS because today is only the second day of school and he is sad to admit that other than you, he hasn't made any new friends. he didn't seem to think it was important.
seokmin's eyes roamed around the basketball court hoping to find a partner only to realise he is the only one without a partner or a group. seokmin tried to discretly look over to you to see if you have a group or partner and guess what? you do. in fact, you're in a group of 3 and disappointment slowly washes over him as he turns back around. almost telepathically , your eyes started searching for seokmin and landed on the back of his head. you shoulders sag a little when you realise that seokmin doesn't have a paartner or a group. ''hey sorry you guys,'' you said to your 2 classmates, ''i think im going to join my friend over there.''
you quietly walked over to seokmin, almost in tippy toes. ''seokmin ah, can i join you?'' you asked with a soft smile. ''but what about your group?'' he questioned. ''they can play as a pair, dont worry about them!'' you answered. ''are you sure you wanna partner with me?'' seokmin's eyes turn to look down at his feet. ''yes i'm sure,'' your hand unconsciously reaches out for his. ''come on, play with me! badminton is about to start! let's go against my 2 friends!''
''i don't know y/n, im not very good at badminton.'' seakmin said as he lifts his other free hand to scratch the back of his neck. ''that's how it gets fun seokmin! by making clumsy mistakes! now come on, will you play with me?'' and seokmin simply answers with a nod; he doesn't trust himself now to answer you verbally. he is scared you'll hear how happy and relieved he is. he is afraid his trembling and stuttering voice will give away how he can feel his blood pumping through his veins and into his hammering heart; all because you are holding his hand.
when seokmin was 21 years old
''no, i do not want to go to that party.'' was what seokmin said 2 hours ago, and now? he's sitting on the living room couch watching you play beer pong with your friends. his stomach does a little flip when he sees your lips forming into a pout because you were failing horribly at the game. ''seokmin ah,'' you called out to him (more like shouting over the loud music and the swamp of people in the flat. ''come play beer pong with me!'' seokmin gets up from the couch and starts to walk towards you just as you manage to get a tennis ball into a red cup, seokmin watches your down that cup of beer. as soon as he reaches you, he lets out a deep audible sigh; not that anymore can hear him either. it is way too noisy in here.
he reaches for your empty cup and sets it aside. '' alright, that's enough for the night. you had a lot of pre-game drinks. you drank way too much tonight. it's late, let's get you back to your flat mhm?'' he pleaded with such soft eyes. you wonder if he knows just how in love you are with him. you could stare into his eyes and get lost in them forever if the universe allows. but you know thats not possible. ''can we go after we finish this game? pleeeeease? pretty pretty please? i keep losing and you're good at beer pong! play with me! wongil is joining minho so we can play 2 vs 2.''
''now why would i do that?''
''oh come on! minho and wongil only have 2 cups left, the game will end quickly! they're good at it.''
you watch seokmin and see his pondering over that. ''it'll be really quick i promise!'' seokmin then says: ''do i really have to?''
''will you play with me? please seokminieeeee.'' seokmin lets out a playfully dramatic sigh, pretending like he isn't happy that you asked him for help.
when seokmin is 23
around the corner of the street, leading to a big empty field right beside the mall, just so happens to be a carnival so the two of you decide to take a look around, maybe buy some snacks.
''seokmin look! they have a giant bouncy castle! can we please go?'' you asked, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you can. ''but what if you bounced too hard and land on a kid? that's not gonna be pretty.'' seokmin laughed.
''don't be dramatic, that wont happen!''
''you go ahead, sweetheart. im scared i'll hurt a kid accidentally.''
''we can play by ourselves at that corner,'' you pointed at the very back of the right corner where there is no one there. ''is that enough convincing? will you play with me? please please please'' you begged. ''of course, sweetheart.''
when seokmin was 27
tonight seokmin is taking you out on yet another date. except this time, seokmin tells you about how fancy the restauant is. he had told you that its a new place he's been wanting to try out but hasn't got the chance yet. the truth is, he's only telling you how fancy it is to try to hint at you that you should dress angelically; not that you don't but he thinks: just incase.
he simply just wants you to feel beautiful and worthy when he pops the question.
so here you are, sitting across seokmin at a fancy restaurant in your elegant pink silk dress. seokmin lays his hand across the table, you took the cue and do the same, hand finding his to intertwine your fingers and holding it softly.
''do you know i've been in love with you since we were 4?'' seokmin asks. you giggle in disbelief as you said ''oh really? and why is that? what made you fall in love with me when you were 4?'' you rolled your eyes playfully. ''because you asked me to play with you. you were so cool that day. you were my knight in shining armour!'' he laughs while thinking back to that day. we used to be such kids he thinks.
''babe, i dont think you even know what love is at age 4.'' now it was your turn to laugh. ''maybe not the way adults know love to be, but it was what i knew love to be when i was 4. like my favourite stuffed animal, my favourite toy truck. i loved you then the same way i loved the things i loved.'' he shrugged sheepishly.
''did you just compare me to your toys?'' you teased. ''god no, thats not what i meant.'' he lets go of your hand to rub his face and then comes back to hold your hand again. ''what i'm trying to say is that, that is my favourite thing about you.''
''what is?'' you questioned. ''you asking me to play with you. you always did throughout all these years. be it when we were 4, 15, 21, 23 and everywhere else inbetween,'' he pauses to take a sip of water and to catch his breath before he continues. ''and i realise...while you were asking me to play with you all these years, i've realised that looking back, i have not once asked you to play with me.''
seokmin lets go of your hand once again, but this time he is reaching into his pocket. you watch as he lifts a red velvet box up to the table. ''what i'm really trying to say is: i loved playing with you when we were 4, and i loved it more and more each and every time you ask me to play with you. i want to play fun, stupid and meaninglessly with you everyday for the rest of my life if you'd let me.''
seokmin gets up from his seat and goes by your side. you felt tears fall down your cheek, you're sure your nose is bright red as of now. ''y/n,'' he said as he opened the box as he knelt down in front of you.
''will you play with? will you play with me for the rest of your life?''
seokmin feels relief washing over him as he breaks into a smile when he hears you say ''always, my love.'' he takes your hand and slid the ring on. ''i love you, so so much.'' seokmin confesses. ''i love you too.''
#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagine#svt#svt fluff#svt angst#svt x reader#fanfic#lee seokmin#seokmin x reader#seok min fluff#seokmin seventeen#dk seventeen#seventeen dokyeom#dk x reader#dokyeom x reader#dokyeom fluff#dk fluff#Spotify
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