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kookygranger · 3 months

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Fairytale of Hawkins: Valentine's Special

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The lovebirds return. Robin comes to the conclusion that you and Eddie are in fact perfect for each other when you denounce Valentine's Day and all things Hallmark romance perfect. Eddie softens your edges.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, allusions to sex, swearing, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, fluff baby fluff

Word count: 2.6k

Author's note: A little look into the burgeoning relationship of towtruck!Eddie and you, a cynical city girl, post-Christmas romance.

Masterlist

Valentine's Day

“Fuck sake.”

Your colleague laughs as you swat away the paper hearts hanging in the doorway of the office lunchroom. “Why do I have to be assaulted every time I get coffee? I’m about three seconds away from tearing this shit down.”

“Yikes, somebody’s not feeling the love today.” Joel smirks over his mug, legs crossed at the lunch table and highly amused by your mood.

“I’m not feeling the love every day. Don’t see why there needs to be a stupid holiday to remind me.” You grumble as you reach for the pot of black coffee, filling your Bikini Kill mug almost to the brim.

“Trouble with the boyfriend? I thought it was going well.”

“He’s not my–“ You sigh. Joel was a work friend. One that shared stock in the workplace trauma and loved to gossip over a Manhattan at Friday drinks. And yeah you knew a lot about each other’s personal lives, but you always struggled with bringing down your professional walls and knowing when it was okay to share; to stop compartmentalising your life so much. Inherently mistrusting, even when it was unnecessary.

“It is–I just. I can still hate the holiday even when I’m…”

“In love?”

You make a face and walk back to your desk, Joel cackling behind you. He leans on your unstable cubicle wall as you sit back at your desk.

“So, prince charming not send you anything?”

“Of course not. He probably thinks it’s just as stupid as I do.”

“You didn’t talk about? Make any date plans?”

You shrug, “There’s no point in him coming all the way up here just for that. We’re both busy.”

Joel purses his lips and hums. You give him a sharp side eye and he backs off, hand up in surrender as he walks away. You roll your eyes when he walks past another cubicle and you hear the sass in his voice, “Beautiful roses Sarah! Somebody isn’t afraid to express their love.”

You let out a sharp exhale, rolling your neck to try ease the tension.

You hate that you were a little upset that he didn’t call to tell you he was thinking of you. You hate that this made-up day could make you feel like that when you had talked to him just yesterday, and your relationship was doing just fine thank you very much. Eddie called to tell you he was thinking about you all the time. Eddie sent flowers when he knew you’d had a rough day. Eddie sent you love letters full of poetry and blush-inducing accounts of what his mind wandered to all day when he was driving around town in his tow truck.

So why did it still sting when none of these things happened on the day that they happened to everyone else.

You should be secure in the knowledge that Eddie Munson didn’t need a commercialised day to show his affection towards you, like many other men in this world. Janet from accounts may have been cuddling her “lovebug” plush toy all day with a faraway look on her face but you knew for certain that she’d be grumbling at her husband Greg come tomorrow night when she was left to do the dishes after also cooking his dinner, despite working just as many hours as him.

But still –

Valentine’s Day sucks.

And you hate that the boy you are… incredibly fond of isn’t standing in front of you nodding his head in agreement as you dish out the Chinese takeout for dinner. Waiting with open arms and magic fingers to relieve the tension in your shoulders as you step through the door of your apartment.

You know you don’t have any right to think these things really. You and Eddie had only been dating since Christmas.

Maybe dating was a loose term, but you had been on dates. You were almost inseparable the week between Christmas and New Year's before you had to head home and back to the office and had been calling each other regularly since. Eddie had taken a trip to see you a few times (three, almost four due to bad weather) and you went on dates.

Good dates. Great dates. Dates that always ended with you wrapped in each other’s arms under your bed sheets. And god, you loved every moment spent with him.

Every full-bellied laugh you’d get out of each other, every glance as you walked side-by-side and soft kiss you shared in between conversations. He was always on your mind. Maybe you were even teaming on the edge of infatuation, and maybe this had a little something to do with your foul mood. The pressure of deep-seated denial of your feelings teetering from innocent to something, compounding in your head. Boy, was that headache really digging its heels in.

Robin’s chuckle cuts through the static over the line as she listens to you grumble.

“Wow, you really are the perfect girl for Eddie Munson.”

You stumble, “You think– wait what do you mean by that? Are you coming over to hear me grouch face-to-face or what? I got the strawberry cheesecake Ben & Jerry’s.”

“Actually,” you can picture her face scrunching up as she elongates the confession, “I kinda have a date.”

You squeal, “Excuse me?! Buckley you’ve been holding out on me! Why’d you let me ramble on about my misery when you have a hot date?”

“Because you hate Valentine’s Day.”

“Well yeah, but I love you. I wanna hear all about your cavity-inducing V-Day plans.”

Robin sighs a long-suffering exhale.

You decide to take your bad mood straight to bed and skip calling Eddie. It wasn’t his fault, and you certainly didn’t want to call just to vent and drag him down. You were tired. You missed him. You were worried that might be too much for you to admit over the phone.

***

Valentine’s Day had set the mood for the rest of the week; by Friday you were done. You were dragging your body up the stairs to your apartment, thinking that maybe it was time for you to go to Eddie. Go back to Hawkins if they’d have you. You couldn’t shake this missing him thing, and the fact that you hadn’t heard his voice in days wasn’t helping.

The past couple of nights your calls had gone unanswered. You weren’t worried, just sad. And you were finally coming around to the fact that it could only be fixed by one boy. God, maybe you had more in common with Janet from accounts than you thought. Both of your moods were heavily influenced by men.

When the fuck did this happen?

Your inner pity party clouds your awareness, taking no note of the sounds or smells coming from your kitchen as you push your heavy front door and kick off your uncomfortable business casual shoes as soon as you’re past the threshold.

It’s the loud clatter of a pan and hissed fuck that has you jumping out of your skin.

“Eddie?”

His head whips around, grin spreading across his face as he spots you by the door. A tea towel over his t-shirt clad shoulder and hands busy stirring things over your stove. Things that smell good.

“Hi.”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

His eyebrows raise, lips forming that stupid smirk that has you virtually already on your knees.

“I’m gonna take that as a good what the fuck and not a get the hell out what the fuck.”

You jog the last few steps and crash into him, arms wrapping around his neck. He takes some of your weight as you melt into him.

“Of course it’s a good what the fuck.” You mumble into his chest, feeling his chuckles under your cheek. When you pull back he cups your face and greets you with a deep kiss. “Do I wanna know how you got into my apartment?”

His laugh hits your face in a warm breath. “Robin lent me her key.” He goes in for another peck before he starts rubbing your cheek soothingly with his thumb, taking in your tired face.

“Pretty sure you’re safe from amateur thieving hands with those two deadbolts, sweetheart.”

“Don’t mock Munson, I’m a girl living alone in the city.”

He nods, “You’re right. Maybe I’ll install a chain too. Gotta keep my girl safe.” He places another quick peck on your lips before turning back around to mind the boiling pots of water and simmering sauces.

Goosebumps. Literal goosebumps at the thought of this man calling you his.

“What is all this anyway?”

He scratches his face, still turned away from you when he gestures to the vase full of wildflowers that you’re only just noticing, and the pink box stamped with the logo of your favourite local bakery sitting on your kitchen table.

“Robin told me you hated Valentine’s Day, which I totally agree with by the way, commercialised bullshit – but uh, I thought we could have like a not-Valentine’s Day dinner, and it gave me a good excuse to break into your apartment and see you so…”

You bite your lip, containing the grin threatening to break out on your face even though he’s still not looking at you. You wrap your arms around his middle, leaning your chin on his shoulder as he continues to work.

“So uh, how long on dinner?”

He keeps stirring, “Maybe 20 minutes. You hungry sweet girl?”

“Famished.” Your lips start to trace a line up his neck, doing that thing with his earlobe that makes him blush furiously.

“Oh. Wait, wait, wait–let me just,” he quickly turns off one of the burners and puts a lid on two of the pots, “Okay.” He spins around, beaming at you when you keen into his touch, warm hands cupping your face. “Hi.”

You return a lip biting hi before you practically pounce on each other. All the stress and inner turmoil from the week leave your body as he walks you backwards to your bed on the other side of your studio apartment.

You spend the next 23 minutes getting reacquainted under the large frosted glass windows that frame your bed, lips parting only for short gasps of air, before Eddie hops up, almost tripping in his attempt to put his underwear back on and jogging the short distance to check on dinner. You giggle at him, and you see the flushed pink return to his cheeks as he winks at you over his shoulder.

Dinner is amazing. Apparently, Steve taught Eddie the basics of cooking when they moved in together (Eddie taught Steve all about tater tots and oven food) and he experiments further when he’s got spare time, especially if he’s cooking for someone that he loves…like Dustin or Wayne.

The night ends much the same as it started after you gorge on the pastries from the bakery, which coincidentally all happen to be your favourites.

Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes are far away as he traces patterns along your jaw and bare shoulders.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask softly.

He exhales slowly through his nose, “Just thinking about how much I miss you.”

You smile at him, his eyes dart to your lips, “I’m right here.”

His eyebrows twitch in that frown you’ve learnt to adore. “I know, it’s just–“ he leans in, forehead touching yours, “I think…” you feel his frown deepen against your skin as he pauses.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“Yeah…and no.” He leans back, head hitting the pillow beside you, his hand coming up to rub his forehead as his eyes scrunch tightly. You let him take another deep breath. You let him take the time to find the courage to spill out his next words. “I’m in love with you.” The hand that was tracing soothing circles in his bicep stops as his head rolls to look at you. “Like, I never really knew what real love felt like until we started doing whatever this is,” he gestures to your bodies curled up under your sheets, “kind of love.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” His face scrunches up again. “And I know, that’s a fucking lot when it’s only been what, a couple of months? And we don’t live in the same city and this is supposed to be fun and casual and you’re a cool city girl with your own life and friends and I drive a tow truck in a small town that thinks rock music is the devil’s music. And trust me,” he shakes his head, hand braced on his chest, “I tried not to. But you make it really fucking hard with your pretty face, and the fact that you look hot as hell in your little corporate outfits but also in my gross Slayer t-shirt, and the whole saying anything that comes to mind sassy without even trying to be thing, and the great taste in music, and the fact that you try to watch all my favourite horror movies even though they give you nightmares and you’re scared that your sleep paralysis demon or whatever you call it is gonna pay you a visit – which by the way is fucked – you know, you don’t make it easy sweetheart.”

He sounds kind of angry. The way his chest heaves after his admission and his brows stay perpetually creased would make anyone who didn’t know him concerned. But you know Eddie Munson.

“I’m in love with you too.”

“What?” His head snaps so quickly you're concerned he might’ve pulled a muscle.

“I didn’t think we were purposefully keeping things casual, I just thought ‘cause of the distance that’s what worked but…I’ve missed you a lot lately and I kind of came to the realisation this week it’s because I’ve fallen for you. Hard, by the way. You know I was gonna call the airline and sus flights to Indy after work. It’s not fair for you to keep having to drive all the way up here. Especially since you end up spending more time on the road than you do here with me.”

He's still frowning, but his eyes are as soft as a puppy’s as your confession sinks in. “Sooo…what do we do now?”

You shrug, moving closer to him as his arm snakes around your back, his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your spine. “I don’t know. But, I do think that I can swing a lot more weekends in Hawkins. Like, at least half the month.”

He beams then, frown lines smooth as his smile, “Really?”

“Yeah. Would that be okay?”

“I think I can handle it.” He places a soft kiss on your lips.

“What about Steve?”

“Fuck Steve.” Another kiss. “Wait, what do you mean?”

You laugh, “I mean, would he be okay with me staying over?”

“Of course he would. If not, I’ll kick his ass.” He shrugs.

“You think you can fight Steve?”

“Ah sweetheart, Steve has never won a fight in his goddamn life. Plus, I got street smarts. All he’s good for is swinging around that damn nail bat.”

“The what?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, smirking before distracting you with another kiss. “You love me, huh?”

You puff your cheeks up and exhale, “Apparently so.”

“You love me.” You giggle as he teases you with sweet kisses along your jaw.

“Don’t get too cocky Munson. You’ve got it bad too. You bought me flowers within the window of Valentine’s Day.”

You feel his smile against your jaw. “Yeah, I’ve got it bad. Real bad, sweet girl.”

Tagging: @storiesbyrhi hi x. And @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975, @skrzydlak just in case.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #towtruck!eddie #she writes

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astrumark · 1 year

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── WHERE IT TRULY LIES ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: you are now a happily married woman, however, aemond will always pull you back.

WARNINGS: smut with plot, infidelity, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, face-sitting, p in v, mild choking, and dirty talk.

WC: 7.4K

NOTES: this is not new, i've deleted it accidently (yikes) and wasn't going to upload again but a lovely soul reached out and they haven't read it yet so here it is! as the title might give away this was inspired by the song moth to a flame - the weeknd. hope you enjoy!

He knew he couldn't marry you, as a prince of the realm, and on the verge of civil war, once his father passed, Aemond needed to secure an advantageous marriage with a powerful house, one that would increase their army numbers. You were not fit. Regardless of his affection for you: duty comes first. That is what his mother taught him. Under different circumstances, perhaps it could've worked out, you were not a lowborn, but your position was simply not high enough.

Aemond could be a cruel man, yes, but never with you. You have found your way into his heart a long time ago when you were but children. He couldn't be selfish and hold you back because of his desires because he also knew you needed to marry soon.

"You might do well to find yourself a suitor." He said in between kisses, you were straddling his lap on the sofa of his quarters, grinding on his bulge slightly, his breath stuttering as he held onto your waist.

You pulled away, with furrowed brows, swollen lips, and lustful eyes. The sight was almost too much for Aemond to bear. "What?"

"You heard me." Shadows danced across his face and you believed Aemond bathed by the candlelight was undoubtedly one of the finest views you have ever seen.

You hummed, a habit you picked up because of him, and then smirked. "Are you trying to get rid of me?" Your lips encountered his neck, leaving a trail of hot and wet kisses.

Aemond squirmed underneath you, holding your arms as he gently pushed you away. "I am not jesting," His expression was stern. "We cannot keep this going for longer, we must tend to our duties."

Your secret affair with Aemond started when you were both six and ten, nurturing an honest friendship long before that. The mutual pining reached its peak during a calm evening at the library. Over the years, you both found immense comfort in each other's arms. There have been a few whispers here and there, but that was the end of it. No clear evidence.

He paused. "My grandsire and mother were discussing convenient marriage pacts for me this afternoon. I will not remain unmarried for long, nor should you." His tone was not harsh, just plain.

"Let me help you, I want to be sure you will be safe. You must understand, my darling, this comes from a place of genuine concern. I promise to find you a worthy match, I want you to be settled." His warm fingertips softly brushed over your uncovered arms, making goosebumps arise on your skin.

You huffed defeated, you were aware that your time as someone unwed was running low, and you didn't need Aemond to remind you of that. However, when your eyes fixed on his you couldn't even find it in yourself to be cross with him, for you found nothing but tenderness in his violet iris, eye carefully studying your reaction.

"I know, Aemond. But I won't find myself a suitor the next morning. But fear not, I am not in secret hopes of marrying you." Your hands wrapped around his neck.

You nodded earnestly. Aemond watched you carefully for a few seconds before he locked his lips with yours once again, slow and tender. All of your thoughts and worries completely disappeared the moment he picked you up and threw you into his soft mattress, his lean body hovering over yours.

Aemond remained true to his words and pondered the options for you. He didn't want you to move away from King's Landing, for you were, most importantly, his friend and he would rather have you close to him. The prince didn't want you to be married to a disrespectful or much older man either. Soon he concluded that he should set you up with someone who was somewhat familiar to him, so he could be certain you would be treated well and watch over you from time to time.

Aemond was not one to often engage with lords, but he didn't completely despise Hadwyn Manning. The young lord had recently become head of his house and retained a large control over Blackwater Bay. He was rich enough, near enough, decent enough. The prince approached your father subtly, planting the idea inside the older man's head. It didn't take long until words of your courtship spread around the Red Keep.

Hadwyn was a 24-year-old man, with light brown locks, green eyes, and tanned skin. The lord has already been married and fathered a child with his late wife who unfortunately passed with a sudden fever. Due to already having an heir, Hadwyn wasn't keen to rush marital matters, and he made it quite clear. He would rather take his time knowing you to be certain and so he did.

Countless letters were exchanged, thoughtful gifts received, and many promenades transpired. Hadwyn had even taken you to a ride on one of his boats and prepared you the sweetest picnic while at it.

It was clear he was charmed by you. It's there in the way his eyes glistened when looking at you, and the grin that never left his mouth, the fact he would give you his undivided attention at all times, listening and watching you assiduously, and in the gentle touches. He was a gracious man, respectful and flirtatious at the same time. And you like him. Yet… there's still a longing lodged in your heart, a small part of you feeling empty and cold no matter what you do or think.

It had been part of your accord to end your rendezvous once either of you became betrothed, returning to being friends only to not complicate the situation. It seemed easy back then, but in truth, it wasn't. You craved for his touch just as a drunken craved for liquor, so much it was best to keep your distance. It seemed as if without Aemond, the world was less exciting and less colorful.

Visiting the Red Keep again, as per usual now, Hadwyn strolled with you around the garden. You held the puppy close to your chest, giggling and rubbing the animal's small belly as he writhes around, trying to bite anything it could grasp. You've mentioned on different occasions how you would like to have a pet, but that you weren't allowed to, and Lord Manning had now presented you with one. You were as surprised as overjoyed.

Aemond watched from afar, sitting on a bench. In a rare occurrence, he found himself free from tasks during the early afternoon and decided to accompany his sister and nephews to the gardens. A handmaid walked around with Maelor, who seemed entertained with the bushes, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera played with wooden toys on the grass, and Helaena stood not far, studying a dragonfly she caught. For anyone, Aemond seemed as stoic as ever, but there was turmoil inside him.

Hadwyn was doubtless enchanted by you and treated you kindly, and you seemed to like his company as well if your flushed cheeks and chuckles were any indicative, and as your friend, he should be content. This was his doing in a sort of way, so his discomfort was unwelcome and confusing. His building rage and jealousy were unwelcome and confusing. His fists tightened by his side, trying to control himself. Do not be selfish, Aemond.

After the dragonfly flew away from her hand, Helaena sat beside her brother, sighing as she breathed in the fresh air. Her gaze fell on you as well after a specific loud laugh, and she smiled softly at the couple playing with the puppy. When you put the dog on the floor and started following it sprinting around while chatting with your suitor, your hand brushed his, and after a shy glance, Hadwyn intertwined them together. A chaperone trailed behind you, not close but not far either, giving you the required privacy.

"They are sweet." Her voice was like cotton.

"Yes." It's all the one-eyed said, tone devoid of any emotion.

"Lord Manning seems like a very devoted man, I am happy for her. Not many women have the same luck. She deserves it."

Aemond nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Most certainly."

Your wedding gown was exquisite, fitting you like a glove, your hair and skin glowing. Your cheeks had been pinched and lips scrubbed with sugar and honey, and the smell of your fragrance lingered around the room. You have asked for a minute alone, preparing for your entrance. The ceremony was not the most luxurious, but it was lovely. You had personally dealt with the decorations, the musicians, and with the kitchen workers, making choices according to your liking.

When the door burst open you expected to see your father ready to escort you, and your eyes widened upon seeing Aemond. "What are you doing here?"

He made fast and long strides towards you, eye devouring the bittersweet sight of you. His hand then moved to your waist, bringing you closer to his body. "You look ravishing, my love."

Gods, you almost melted, breath caught in your throat and heart pounding as you felt his touch again and heard him praise you in such a velvety voice. A part of you wished to close your eyes and relish in the moment, forgetting all about what expected you on the other side of the door, but you found enough strong will to push his arms away from you. "Don't."

Aemond crossed his arms behind his back, noticing how your breath got heavier and smirking, knowing you're still so responsive to his touch satisfied him.

"You are right. My apologies, my lady." He didn't sound sorry in the slightest.

You fought back a smile at his behavior. "What is it, my Prince? What are your reasons for barging in here?"

"I wish to give you a wedding gift, before the ceremony."

You raised your eyebrows curiously, prompting him to continue.

He grinned a little before reaching his pocket, it was small enough to fit the palm of his hand, one he'd closed. You stepped closer, intrigued, and when he opened his palm, you gasped. Your eyes found his face, no doubt reminiscing the gem beneath his eyepatch, one you had grown used to and attached to.

Grabbing the ring from his palm, you studied it in awe. It had to be the most delicate jewelry you had ever seen, and it shined so bright, from the oval sapphire as the center stone to the scalloped diamonds accenting both sides, covering almost all of the ring with its shine.

"Every time you look at it, I want you to remember me, and our pleasurable time together," Aemond said and your cheeks warmed up. "Can you do it for me?" His hand touched your face daintily. "My star in the mist, will you not forget about us?"

"Never." You whispered but there was no falter in your voice, it was the truth. Aemond chuckled softly, nodding briefly.

Perhaps Aemond could still be a little selfish and give in to his jealousy, perhaps he needed to. He needed to see if he still had some power over you since you had been so busy lately with your future husband and the wedding planning, perhaps he needed you to wear a piece of him. It was obviously more than a wedding gift, it was an odd sort of claim. But a secret claim, such as your secret affair.

"Let me," He grabbed the ring and your hand, and you licked your lips nervously. Slowly, he placed the jewelry on your finger. You knew there was a deeper meaning behind the item, which was slightly amusing, nonetheless, it felt right on your finger, as if it was always there, to begin with. "It suits you."

"It does." Your eyes locks with his and for a minute you get lost, letting your mind wander. Aemond recognizes the look on your face because it's the same as his. And for that minute, you both wore your heart on your sleeves. For a minute, you prayed for time to stop. Your heart ached, and so profoundly. There's no need for words. You both understand each other's thoughts and feelings as if attached to a strange magic bond. It's yearning, it's acceptance, and most of all, sorrow.

Aemond pulled you by the back of your neck and rested his forehead against yours, breathing your scent. Your eyes shut, humming and brushing your noses. It's so comforting to be with him, feel him, breathe him. The prince leaned in and you opened your eyes, there's a silent question behind his eye, but before you could answer it, you heard heavy footsteps outside. He pulled back, recomposing himself. Your father looked shocked to see Aemond but he was soon soothed with the blonde's silver tongue and his excellent excuse. He leaves you without another word, only a nod.

The ceremony went smoothly, and you tried your best to focus on the feast happening around you. You entertained the guests and danced and pampered your new husband, but not as much as he pampered you. Any person would deem the ceremony as fun and would claim that you two were completely in love. Truth be told, you weren't in love with Hadwyn, but as you giggled the night away, you strongly believed it wouldn't be a hard task to be. You hoped it wouldn't.

It was a relief to know Hadwyn wasn't pretending to be someone he's not until you become his, for the lord remained as sweet and caring as ever through the moons following your wedding. You lived together harmoniously, and his son, barely three, quickly grew attached to you. It was a calm and quiet life most would be satisfied with.

It didn't stop you from thinking about Aemond, however. To reminisce about his touches and kisses as you pleasured yourself, and it became worse after you first visited the Red Keep after your wedding. Until then, you had exchanged innocent letters, the kind all childhood friends shared after moving away, but being close again stirred something you could no longer hold back.

You also have come to terms with the fact you would never feel for him as much as you feel for Aemond. They were entirely distinct. While Hadwyn was a faint flame of a bonfire in the morning, low but constant and warm, Aemond was dragon-fire itself, boiling, wild, dangerous, and consuming. And that's alright. Maybe different loves are meant to feel differently.

It was there when Aemond's gaze moved from your husband to land on your hand, the one the sapphire ring laid, you had not taken it off, his violet eye darkened considerably, and a smile that could only be described as smug crept into his face.

For the rest of your stay it had been torture, the way he'd pressed his body against your back when you were practicing the bow and arrow for good fun, or the way his hand brushed yours as he passed you the milk during breakfast, when you were laughing together in the library and he accidentally laid his hand on your covered thigh, or how his chair was too close during supper, his delicious scent invading your nostrils and making your stomach tingle with a forbidden desire.

You believed it was simply a coincidence until you were back home and his letters shifted from friendly to immoral, and you had to burn it the second you finished reading them. In the first one, he explicitly wrote how your dress accentuated your body and how he wished to rip it off and absolutely devour you. The harsh and filthy words make you dumbfounded and horny, cheeks burning and an uncomfortable and sticky pool between your legs. You didn't know what had gotten into him, or even you for entertaining his sick behavior, as you replied to each of them in the same way. It was shameful and wrong, but as everything involving Aemond, it was also thrilling. And in all honesty, you could never deny him.

And then you reached your breaking point. You sneaked out of your shared bed in the middle of the night, your husband soundly asleep, and made your way to a reclusive inn. You paced around the room, fidgeting with the sleeve of your cloak as you waited for Aemond. Sending him only a small note with an address, you had no clue he'd come. Certainly, now that the war broke out, he had more urgent matters to attend to, so were you being selfish for wanting and almost demanding him? Absolutely, but so was he when he didn't let you go once you got married, so was he enticing you with filthy letters and making you sin even more for him.

The crack of the door makes your blood rush in your veins, breath stuck in your throat as you turn around. There he stands, in all his haughtiness, even when he's almost all covered by his cloak. He pulls the hood down, smirking at you. There's only silence as you watch him slowly take off the cloak and throw it on a chair. You lick your lips as you take in his leather clothing, then he proceeds to remove his worn and brown eyepatch, the one he would only use to run around King's Landing undetected. Your eyes trail his body hungrily, the glistening gemstone only making the knot in your stomach tighten. It's truly almost painful the sight of him, having him so close, and completely alone. You can ghostly feel his touch and smell already, and your heart hammers against your ribcage. You approach him under his amused gaze.

"I know you are up to no good to bring me to such a place at the hour of the owl." Aemond says as you halt in front of him.

"You are correct." You glance at his curved lips for a second before locking your eyes with his violet one again.

"Where's your dear husband I wonder?" He asks mockingly.

"Sleeping." You tilt your head, smiling slightly.

"Unaware you seek the company of another?"

"Not just another..."

"What else?" He questions curiously.

"The most charming and fierce prince of the realm. Hardly an offense."

Aemond rolls his eye, lips twitching upwards. "Quit your flattery."

"Do not pretend you don't love it."

"Have you enjoyed my letters?"

"Greatly, the same amount I despised it as well." Aemond scoffs. "What happened to our terms?"

"Impracticable."

"Were they?" You raise your eyebrow.

"Yes. How am I supposed to not fuck you anymore when I already got the taste of the most delicious cunt there is?"

You smirk, his crude words making your core clench around nothing. "Flattering me as well?"

"Simply being honest." He twirls a piece of your hair around his finger, placing his hand on your jaw after. "Does he fucks you good?"

You pause, remembering your intimacy with Hadwyn. It is not awful, just plain. It happens what you expect, and nothing else. You didn't feel comfortable telling him more of your preferences, afraid he would think low of you if you did so. Although recently you had managed to bring his hand to your bud and rode him once, it seemed he preferred to keep it as usual. With Aemond you never had to ask, it was always instinctively, you guessed he probably read many books about intercourse before laying with you because you knew he didn't have many experiences either. One, to be precise, and you doubt it actually counts, he was just a child after all. His question triggers a pang of guilt to wash over you, though. Your husband has been nothing but kind, and how do you repay him?

"I must be a terrible person." You mutter.

"You are not," You look at him incredulously. "A terrible wife, mayhaps, but not a terrible person."

You can't help the snicker falling off your lips as you hit his chest playfully. "Stop making me feel more guilty than I already do!"

Aemond hums, raising a brow. "Not guilty enough to stop you from answering my letters or coming here late at night." You avert your eyes.

"It 's alright. Did we once follow the traditions? Do you believe the Seven thought of us as fewer sinners when we engaged in sexual activities before marriage because we were unwed?" He grabs your chin. "Do not be ashamed. You are mine and cannot resist me. You and I are meant to be, we are more than a mere convenient marriage. Ain't I too supposed to be faithful to my future bride?"

"Is your betrothed very lovely?"

"You will be relieved to know you have ruined me. No other woman compares to you. Ever." Your heart flutters with his words. "Floris Baratheon seemed the least irritating of the sisters, that is all."

"Have you enjoyed my letters?"

"I keep them all." He answers, leaning his face closer to yours. Your knees almost fail you as you inhale his scent of leather, sandalwood, and bergamot. "Have you missed me as I missed you, my beautiful girl?"

"Possibly even more." You confess.

"Tell me why you invited me here, I need to hear it from your pretty mouth." His thumb trails over your lower lip.

"I was expecting you to keep to your word." You tease.

He chuckles. "That would take days."

"Certainly you can arrange some time for an old friend…"

His good eye seems to glimmer as much as the sapphire replacing the other. "Will this be an occurrence?"

You fidget with the button of his tunic. "It seems we cannot keep apart from each other, so I would guess so." You look into his eye.

"Mhm." His arm sneaks around your waist, bringing you even closer to his body, and you place your hands on his shoulders. "You haven't said it yet." He tilts his head.

You breathe in and gulps. "I brought you here because I want you to fuck me."

Aemond smiles, actually smile. Most certainly smugly, but he displayed all of his teeth in his adorable grin, and you love to see it, a smile appears on your face as well, almost unconsciously just by seeing his.

"As my lady wishes."

It's blazing when your lips meet, not loving or gentle, but rather fervent and harsh. You moan into his mouth when his tongue touches yours, and all guilt leaves you at once. At that moment everything that wasn't Aemond ceased to exist. As it always happened when you were with him, you only cared for his touch.

The time apart makes it even better, the leather beneath your fingers comforting. His other hand goes to the back of your head, and you continue to kiss him eagerly, your body trembling even with so little stimulation. You bite his lips as you part slightly for air, and then your mouths are locked again. The kiss slows down a bit, becoming more appreciative as both of you delight in the exchange and each other's taste, but it remains just as lustful.

Aemond swiftly takes your cloak off and you struggle off your shoes, the prince does the same. You help Aemond out of his tunic after you are done and his undershirt goes flying across the room in one go. You touch his toned abdomen before your lips find his chest and neck, the low groan coming from Aemond stirring you up, your mouth trails down as you kiss all of his stomach, kneeling down in front of him. Aemond looks at you in anticipation as you undo his belt and pulls his trousers down, the leather a little too tight.

Once his veiny and semi-hard cock springs free, your mouth starts watering. You don't take your eyes off it as you stroke him, making Aemond gasp loudly. Your eyes darken, even the smell of his manhood tantalizing you. He's definitely above average, straight, long, and thick enough to give the best stretch without making you uncomfortable, with large veins running through the base and a pinkish tip. You can't help yourself as you insert his head in your mouth with a loud pop, he tastes so divine. You smirk at him as he let out a strained moan, your tongue then sliding across his slit. Aemond's hand grips your hair with a decompensated breath.

You start kissing and licking around his shaft attentively, tongue flat while savoring it and purposely teasing him more before you stroke his cock a few more times and proceeds to put half of his length in your mouth, Aemond trembles upon feeling your hot and soft lips around him, a growl escaping his mouth.

"Oh, fuck, yes. You look so beautiful, my dear."

Your cheeks hollows, head bobbing back and forth as you suck him into your mouth, humming against his member, the sensation of pleasuring him way too good, and tears start to prickle your eyes. You fist his cock and lap on him relentlessly, even when you pull him out, your lips keep locked on him, tongue running around his shaft before you swallow him again, the fullness of your mouth making you grow even wetter. You look up at him as you gag on his cock, mouth squeezing his manhood, and his head is thrown back, brows furrowed and pink lips parted, his good eye is half-closed while the sapphire sparkles bright, the most wonderful sight one could lay eyes on. His grunts become more prominent as he lets you lead, and you can feel your cunt throbbing achingly now. You give him all the devotion you can master through it, your other hand gently massaging his balls and receiving the most delightful sounds in return.

You smirk at him, taking him out of your mouth sloppily once again to catch your breath, his cock coated with your saliva. You slap it on your face before sucking it again as if your life depends on it. He was so addicting.

"By the Gods," He mutters with a grunt.

It's when you quicken your pace that it feels as if something quite feral snaps inside Aemond. He starts to grow impatient and jerks his hips against your face, his closed fist on your hair more harsh and demanding, his pace becomes so brutish now that you stop stroking him, both your hands laying on his bare thigh for support, your nails digging deeply into his skin as you moan, no doubt bruising it later. It is impossible to fit all of his length in your mouth, but Aemond is certainly determined to do so, a flow of hot tears fall down your eyes as he fucks your mouth, your throat burning with the invasion. It's dirty, uncomfortable, and absolutely ecstatic. Aemond does not care for you or your whines or your gagging one bit now, he only cares for his enjoyment and release and you are more than happy to assist him with it. Lewdy sounds echo in the room as his tip hits the back of your throat mercilessly. You push his thigh as you pull back for air, your appearance disheveled.

"Come on my face, please." You say out of breath, a split of saliva hanging between his cock and your mouth as you stroke his length rapidly and suck his head again.

The sight below him accompanied by your words are enough to send Aemond over the edge, and with a high-pitched moan, his hot load hits your face, painting a few parts of it white. You stick your tongue out and shut your eyes as your hand continues to jerk him, swallowing his spend that falls on your tongue and gathering the amount that landed on your face.

"So good," You praise him, licking your fingers clean. "So fucking good." You give his head another lick, making him whine due to sensitivity.

You giggle and get up, Aemond immediately tasting himself on your lips in a messy and lecherous kiss. Lowering himself to your feet the prince grabs the ends of your dress and removes it anxiously. Your choice of dress was a very simple and easy to take off one, and you didn't bother to wear a shift underneath tonight either, aware of the sinful practices you planned to indulge in, leaving you completely bare now. Aemond stares at your nakedness with a pleasant hum and blown eye.

"Go to bed and spread your legs for me." He commands as he discards your dress somewhere.

When your back hits the bed, you immediately open your legs to him, hand provocatively touching your breasts, there's no shyness, only a burning desire to be seen by him. You bite your lips as you notice how his violet eye has turned almost all black now. He fists his cock a couple of times at the sight of you, one he wishes to never forget.

He makes his way toward the bed, kneeling in front of you. Bringing your body forward, he leaves a trail of kisses on your inner thighs, which makes you shudder. "I have missed this sweet cunt so much…"

His middle finger parts your folds, gathering your juices next to your hole and then coming back up to circle your sensitive bud. You moan with the touch, brows furrowed and lifting your hips slightly, and you can hear Aemond chuckling. "So wet for me it's pitiful, truly." He continues to touch you teasingly, fingers pressed tightly to your heat as he drags it around. You can only hum in response, already lost in your pleasure, you feel completely on fire.

"Do you know why?" He moves his hand away, pressing his lips to your bud in a light kiss and making you whimper with the action. "Because it knows it belongs to me, it's as clear as day." He spits on your cunt crudely before immediately lapping on it, your back arching involuntarily as your moans get louder.

His warm tongue twirls between your folds slowly, making you whimper and bite your lips harshly, it's been so long since you have been eaten out that it feels like a dream, your face immediately twists in pleasure as shivers run down your spine with the missed sensation of his lips on your sex. Aemond sucks your bundle of nerves, making you gasp, your hands going to his silky hair as you press his face even further in your cunt. Aemond's tongue slides all over your womanhood as he sucks and licks you as if it was the air that he breathes. He closes his eye for a second, groaning lowly against your cunt due to his own enjoyment.

"Mhm," He grunts. "So fucking tasty."

His tongue teases your hole before coming back up to suck harshly on your sensitive bud unabated, you watch him with hooded eyes, his name on your lips like a prayer.

"Yes, the best thing I have ever tasted," He continues lapping on you, one of his hands holding your cunt open to give him better access. "You're doing so good, my beauty."

He spits on you one more time, mouth devouring you. He easily inserts two fingers into your soaked cunt, and you cannot control the sounds that leave your lips anymore. He curls his fingers inside you as his tongue whirls on your clit, his pumping quickening as you jerk your hips against his face and hand. It's so exceptional, his long fingers reaching a spongy spot you cannot on your own. In an urge to grab something, one of your hands squeezes your breasts as you whimper uncontrollably. You open your eyes again to see he's already looking directly at you as his tongue moves side to side on your cunt. You bite your lips so hard it draws blood.

Getting up on your elbows, you watch as he gives you long licks up and down, then twirls it around your bud again and sucks it into his mouth, his fingers inside you not faltering, you relish in the stimulation on both your core and bud, making your eyes roll back as not one coherent thought crosses your mind. You feel goosebumps all over your skin and pathetic gibberish leaves your mouth. Aemond continues to work you on, his tongue and fingers getting faster and making your moans break. You can feel your release building up on your lower belly as you shut your eyes, cunt clenching tightly around his fingers, and you are so ready for it, to let it go and cry in pleasure, you are close, so close… and he stops, pulling away.

You look at him with a mixture of confusion, anger, and frustration. He chuckles at you, licking the fingers that were inside you seconds ago.

"I need you to sit on my face, pet."

Your stomach tingles upon hearing his words and you can only nod, moving aside so he could lay on the bed. When Aemond is settled, you straddle his face, holding onto the cool headboard and being careful as to not put all of your weight on him, you lower your cunt to his mouth, immediately gasping when you do so. Aemond holds on to your upper thighs tightly, keeping you in place and moaning into your heat as he starts licking you fervently once again.

You can't help yourself as you grind and roll your hips on his mouth, hands pinching your nipples as your pace quickens. Aemond doesn't leave an inch of your cunt out of his affections, sucking hard as he groans against you in delight. When his tongue enters your hole you are moaning so loud you are certain the whole inn could hear you, but that was far from being a concern to you. You need to hold on to the headboard again, knuckles whitening with the force you put on it. His name is on your lips as a mantra now while you bounce on him, your stomach churning. Then, his tongue is all around you again, relaxed and hot as he works his magic with purpose.

You keep your eyes locked on Aemond the whole time, the sight of him under you and satisfying your desires only adding more intensity to your pleasure. He looks so pretty and alluring like this, his adorable lips so keen to make you happy, eating you out so well and good, you bite your lips again while smiling down at him. You grind more relentlessly now, not even trying to be careful, the feel of his mouth paired with the faint brush of his chin and the tip of his nose on your cunt is the best thing you have ever experienced.

Your peak comes down abruptly and feels like a million stars exploding at once, a long scream on your lips. Your head falls back, black dots covering your vision as your legs tremble. You cry as Aemond continues to lap on your sensitive cunt, kissing it multiple times after.

Admirably your legs didn't fail you and you manage to get off his face, body falling limp on the bed. The ceiling above you is spinning as your heart palpitates in your ears. It takes a minute for your breath to stabilize, and when you look at Aemond he is grinning like a maniac, chin glistening with your juices, and you both laugh at each other out of bliss.

Aemond moves to hover over you, his mouth finding yours in a long and deep kiss, your legs wrap around his waist as one of his hands squeezes your breasts before cradling your face. Your lips move harmoniously together, tongues caressing one another.

It's so soothing, you feel so at peace and so light, just as the sound of the wind passing through the trees. There is no rush, only long kisses and pecks, hooded eyes, and silly little smiles. It's not sexual, and it's not innocent, it's just two people taking their time with each other. You lost track of time in your consuming passion, too occupied in the sheer joy of the prince's soft lips and naked body pressed against yours.

Slowly but as expected, the kisses start to grow needier, your breathing becoming erratic and your womanhood pulsating. You grind against Aemond's stiffness and he sighs deeply, his mouth moving to your neck as he sucks and bites your sweet spot and makes you shiver, then trailing down to your breasts as he puts one in his mouth, twirling his tongue around your nipple. He pulls back a little, holding his hard cock and running it in between your folds before he calmly and gently slides into you.

Your eyes close with the feeling, the stretch his girth gives is simply extraordinary and so fulfilling. You start whimpering as he settles in the middle of your legs, nothing and no one else could make you feel this way, to reach that specific spot, and your cunt is clenching tightly around him.

"Fuck, sweet thing," He breathes out. "You feel even tighter. Is your husband fucking you at all?"

He starts to thrust on you slowly, and your eyes roll back again, gasping loudly as you relish the feel of his cock inside you, so marvelous. Aemond lets his face fall in the crook of your neck, to feel your soft walls around him an absolute blessing in his opinion, his moans are so low if you were a little bit louder yourself you wouldn't be able to hear him.

"So good…" You moan, you have missed this way too much.

"Mhm, yes, very good." He holds onto your hips tightly and your legs parts even further.

He starts to go even deeper, his hip finding a steady pace that makes you feel as if you are flying. His grunts become loud, and his hand leans your leg up to your chest as he starts to pound on you more fastly now. "Fucking perfection. You are so perfect."

You hold your leg up to help him, already a moaning mess. The cracky bed hits the wall repeatedly and you are sweating a lot, your hair sticking to your forehead. It is such a great sensation you are torn between seeking your peak and wanting it to last forever, to feel him inside you forever. It seems Aemond feels the same, because now and then when the prince believes you or himself to be close, he'd stay still inside you, completely out of breath, and hold a few seconds before starting again, a few strands of his silver locks falling into your face as he does so.

His lips wrap around yours messily, tongues locked as he keeps thrusting and grunting. His familiar scent, a cologne custom-made because he is just that snob, mixed with his sweat turns you on even more.

He parts from you for a minute, kneeling on the bed and then turning you around with impressive force and grace, your back instantly arching for him while the side of your face is pressed to the mattress. You can hear him chuckle before he slaps your ass hard, and you whine.

"You little whore," He presses the tip of his cock to your entrance and you wiggle. "My perfect little whore."

He thrust into your cunt, the new position making you euphoric, and you started to meet him at his pace, your whimpers almost pitiful. Aemond's hand grips your ass, his shoving only quickening by the second, he laughs a bit seeing your eagerness, and then he halts, letting you do the work for a while. He stares at his cock disappearing inside your cunt with a wicked glint in his eye and he needs all of his self-control to not go feral.

"Yes, yes, yes," He encourages. "You're so good at this, gorgeous. Keep on taking my cock like the cheating whore you are, oh yes."

His words make you groan, cunt tightening around him as your movements grow faster and harder, so much his cock slips out of your cunt once, but you are quick to insert it into your dripping hole again, the wet sounds of skin slapping skin nothing but obscene. Aemond watches with a smirk the way your womanhood is milking him, hands caressing and squeezing your butt as you bounce on his length.

Soon he takes control again, starting to thrust on you aggressively and steadily. You scream, the rattle of the bed growing even more strident now, and you become a babbling mess, biting into your hand to try to prevent your loud moans from being heard, a tear falling from the corner of one of your eyes. Aemond laughs amusedly.

"Oh my, you love this, don't you?"

"Y-y-yes," You stutter, brows furrowed and fists tight on the linen sheet.

"Fuck, you are heavenly," Aemond says. "And all mine."

"Uh-huh," You agree. "All yours, only yours."

He slaps the cheek of your ass again. "My princess," His pace becomes faster. "My fucking queen." He leans down, lips kissing your cheek.

In a blink of an eye, you are on your back again, Aemond's managing your body too easily. You bring both your legs up as he inserts his manhood into you, his hand wrapping around your neck as he thrust into you ruthlessly.

You can only moan, holding onto anything you can grasp, it's almost too much and you feel completely wobbly, it feels as if he was made in the most perfect size to send you to the seven heavens and back. His cock hits your cervix unrelenting, his fist tightening around your neck until you can barely breathe, the lack of air only increasing your pleasure, and then…

The knot inside you snaps in a shattering wave, your whole body shaking. It's as if you have left your body entirely and were floating around, your vision whitening and audition failing you. When you come back to your senses, Aemond is grunting lowly and thrusting into you, your cunt wrapping around his cock amazingly, with a husky and strained moan, his face twists in pleasure, eye shut and mouth agape as he spills his seed deep inside you, filling you up and you moan just by watching him. His thrusts get sloppier and weaker as he rides off his peak until his body falls on top of yours, with hitched breath and trembling slightly. You smile, one hand caressing his hair and the other his back, his skin feels almost burning under your touch.

You feel suddenly exhausted, and all you wish to do is close your eyes and succumb to slumber, but you know you cannot. It was already late when you left Hadwyn, and you do not know how much time has passed since the moment Aemond stepped inside the room. Most definitely it was already the hour of the bat, and as a heavy sleeper, you couldn't risk not waking up before dawn, your husband was a very early bird after all. Aemond looks up at you as if guessing the line of your thoughts: the prince was accustomed to you getting sleepy after your passionate activities.

"You may sleep, my beloved," His knuckle brushes against your cheek. "I shall remain awake and wake you up before the sun is up."

You smile softly at him in silent agreement and he gets off you, wrapping your bodies with the thin blanket. You rest your face on Aemond's chest and the prince hugs you closer, caressing your back and your thigh. He sighs contently.

As you quickly fall asleep, Aemond stares at you, the crickets outside the small window and the cackling of the fire are the only noises reaching his ears. He smiles upon your sleeping form, realizing no matter marriage or time, this is where you will always belong: with him, in bed, in his arms, where your heart truly lies.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfic #aemond imagines #aemond smut #hotd x reader #hotd imagines #aemond targaryen imagines

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ssreeder · 1 year

Note

*taps mic*

*screeching synth noise*

hem hem

first of all

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

now that we have That out of the way

SREEDIE YOU’RE SO SPEEDY (that’s an awful rhyme I’m so sorry) ARE YOU READY TO HEAR MY EVERY THOUGH WHILE READING THIS CHAPTER (once again I’m so sorry But not sorry enough to spare you bc I’ve gotta keep being annoying to remind you why we got divorced)

yikes it really must be lowkey terrifying on katara’s end rn… like it’s pretty much the whole They Died And Came Back Wrong trope except sokka only died in theory and yet came back wrong anyway. I feel so bad for her :((

SLAY TOPH keep an eye on iroh please

not katara suspending her disbelief regarding jet being heroic T-T

this is actually a really interesting dynamic change for katara and sokka bc even though katara was always caring for everyone else in the show, sokka was always the one person who was always looking out for katara, so to have him be the sibling that needs taking care of is like… damn yk

okay maybe this means absolutely nothing BUT I feel like jet losing his arm and therefore his ability to wield dual blades has the potential to cause even more tension with zuko bc jet will not only hate him for being fire nation but now they won’t even be evenly matched in a fight and he’s gonna resent the fact that zuko still has both arms. and that’s ASIDE from the fact that it’s gonna be a gruelling healing process before jet even gets the chance to Think about picking up a blade again

jet: is literally on his deathbed

suki: I’m looking respectfully-

“how did sokka handle that” well katara isn’t that the money question, and unfortunately the answer is always Not Very Well

oh katara sokka has also stabbed a man to death with a stick so uh,, yeah while amputating jet’s arm was unideal, alas it is far from the most gory shit sokka has done

perfect girl but sokka wants a boyyyyyyyy~ (these bitches gay)

yes sokka let’s try to keep the house hacking to a minimum shall we

okay definitely nothing has been solved but crying on the bathroom floor is actually very therapeutic not that I’m speaking from personal experience or anything haha HOWEVER I do think sokka needs to cry for longer for the catharsis to work properly. so that’s my note sreedie. MAKE HIM CRY MORE

fuck dude there’s just.. Nothing like sibling relationships. like obviously katara and sokka are (were?) really close siblings but even when siblings are estranged to whatever extent it’s still just so different from any other kind of relationship you have with other people so it’s like… if Anyone would be able to help sokka it would be katara. idk how to express it but not even zuko would be able to help sokka the way katara (though he would Understand it more) bc sokka needs to know that he has people that have enduring love for him and the only person he’ll be able to trust to give him that initially would be katara and I just AHHHHH

YAY MORE CRYING YOU LISTENED TO ME

ugh sokka stop LYING you LIAR

zuko IS an asshole and I love that about him <3

not katara’s bluffing about yue- absolutely appalling effort folks, katara this is the funniest thing you have ever done

sorry I know it was a very intense and somber situation but I just find it hilarious that the solution to zuko being stubborn and refusing to cooperate (however much that is understandable given the circumstances) is just to straight up knock him out. like night night kiddo

ah shit I wish iroh weren’t the one undressing zuko. actually I wish nobody was undressing zuko this is just shit

ZUKO PLEASE YOU’RE DYING WHY ARE YOU STILL AWAKE

speech impediment zuko my beloved <3

ZUKO WHY ARE YOU A MENACE literally first thing out of his mouth that’s not defensive in an attempt to protect himself is to fucking insult jee I can’t T-T

JEE YOU SAVAGE ily

zuko bit jee I forgot omfg this is hilarious (even though it’s actually very sad but shhh we’re ignoring that)

jee the emotional support bestie reporting for duty bc he is the only emotionally stable adult in this household

iroh: is indescribably furious about the fact that zuko has been tortured

also iroh: my this boy has a mighty strange haircut going on

ah fuck here we go. it’s SA discovery time >:/

sreedie did jee break something accidentally bc he was in shock or did he smash something out of rage

rasu fashion icon <3

dragon of the west popping off with the murder plans

when a blind girl and a human disaster are left alone in the kitchen-

oh okay so he Did break a table. slay.

jee in dad mode <3

SOKKA JUST FUCKING TELL PEOPLE PLEASE THIS IS FRUSTRATING AND SAD AT THE SAME TIME WTF

I’m sorry but not jee thinking sokka is a bigger pain in the ass than zuko. alas, he does have a point

OHIHOHOHHEHEHEHE ITS CHANG BITCHES AND HE’S IN HIS GIRLBOSS ERA

nvm chang is in his struggle era actually

lots of layers LIKE AN ONION-

OH SHIT REHO RECOGNISES CHANG

“little wet-noodle” PLEASE I adore chang

for once in her life, slay ara, now the story is finally fucking getting a move on (no shade to you sreedie <33)

lmao bato is so right both about sokka AND about teasing hakoda despite being in the midst of a very tense wartime situation

omg in relation to you an: pls let zuko fuck up all of sokka’s lies accidentally bc this boy cannot lie for shit LET ALONE when he doesn’t realise he even needs to lie and is also high as fuck from iroh drugging him so that he doesn’t bite people

OR sokka is gonna see zuko on his sickbed and immediately his whole world is gonna narrow down to just zuko (understandably) and everyone else in the room is gonna figure out what’s going on pretty quick and effectively sokka just exposes HIMSELF à la love for zuko spewing out of him alongside guilt and regret and fear and relief (essentially the full emotional gambit)

in review: sokka needs to cry more, zuko should bite more people, zukka needs to reunite, I love jee, I love chang, hakoda is gonna need a head massage after all the mental gymnastics he’s gonna be subjected to next chapter. THE END.

love you So much TOODLES *mwah*

LEEEEEEKI BELOVED!!!!

I’m sure you’re like wtf ex lover why aren’t you answering my ask & I’m innocently over here cherishing every word and sniffing it until it loses your smell….

Yes, I’m weirdo. But you keep coming back for me so HA…. ;)

I know some people in the comments were like “I can’t believe Sokka just DID THAT!! no way!!”

& it’s like what’s worse? Stabbing someone in the neck 30 times with a jagged stick you found on the ground while pretend shitting or cutting off your kind of enemy kind of whatever guys arm to save his life??

(There was also the warden situation too… so idk I think Sokka is pretty desensitized at this point and is so emotionally constipated that he doesn’t know HOW to feel about ANYTHING right now ((except Zuko))))

Jee: Zuko is the most difficult person

Jee meets Sokka: I stand corrected

Haha I enjoy your reviews, & I can’t wait to see you soon!!

#leekie leeeeeeek LEE!!!#you’re always so wonderful #& I think your reviews are like how I would read my own work haha #CHANG IS GOING TO MAKE SHIT HAPPEN #don’t worry haha #things are coming together just before they pop off again #but we are one chapter closer to it being over haha!! yippieee!!#not that I’m rushing but it would be nice to be done eventually lol #ALRIGHT LEEKIE I WILL SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!!!#i love you leekie #leekie tag #leekieeeeee #liab #itf #ask

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randomjreader · 1 year

Text

YOUNG ROYALS SEASON 2 SPOILERS AHEAD, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Here we go, part 2 of my mess of thoughts while watching young royals

Hot take: Simon and Marcus aren't that bad tgt, but Simon's heart isn't entirely into it so it's never going to work out. I just hope Simon is direct with him now before shit goes down with Wille again

SIMON THROWING THE DODGEBALL AT WILLE 😭 that was personal 💀

Ahhh I get why Simon is mad, but Wille does have more to consider when it comes to big decisions 😭 I feel so bad for him

YES YES YES FELICE AND WILLE MAKING UP, WILLE APOLOGISING FOR KISSING HER LIKE THAT, FELICE BEING SO UNDERSTANDING AHHHHH I LOVE THEM

No honestly? Any doubt I had abt Felice back in season one? Squashed, killed, crushed underneath the sole of my foot. Absolute top tier character I love her to bits

"it hurts so much. I feel like I'm gonna die" STOP PLS MY POOR WILLE JUST SHATTERING MY HEART WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER

THE LOVE LETTER TO FREDRIKA, IT HAS TO BE FROM STELLA RIGHT? SHES LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAT THERE'S NO WAY IT'S NOT FROM STELLA

WILLE IN TEARS WHILE PUTTING ON HIS MAKEUP PLS 😭😭 SOMEONE PROTECT HIM PLS STOP HURTING HIM

MORE FREDRIKA AND STELLA MOMENTS IM CALLING IT RN THEY'RE A THING

Ok, not them making me feel bad for August??? He set up a whole romantic thing for Sara and she bails? Yikes

Marcus showing up for Simon? Aww

But Simon not telling him the names of his fishes bcs they remind him of Wille :(

I FUCKING KNEW IT, STELLA AND FREDRIKA AHHHHHHHH I AM HERE FOR IT 🏳️‍🌈

FUCK YES THEY FINALLY KISSED!!! BUT SIMON IS STILL WITH MARCUS?? ITS MORE COMPLICATED NOW 😭 Lowkey feeling bad for Marcus man he does seem to like Simon a lot

Simon singing to Wille 😭 y'all I'm in my feels rn

WILLE WAS SO HAPPY AFTER THE KISS AWWW <3

NOOO SIMON CALLED THE KISS A MISTAKE

OK, ITS HAPPENING, WILLE TOLD SIMON THAT AUGUST POSTED THE VIDEO

Ughh this whole music room fight, I hate that I understand both sides and it's just a whole djoajdkskfkwjdjxn

Wille going to Simon's house to talk to him 😭 AND IMPLYING THAT HE'D ABDICATE FOR HIM

That phone call, August was tryna buy Rosseaou for Sara right? That's kinda sweet actually

WILLE THROWING UP AHHHH

THEY CLOSED THE CURTAINS, I REPEAT, THEY CLOSED THE CURTAINS

Okok, I rlly do feel bad for Marcus. I mean, he was harsh and Simon is not wrong in saying he did tell him that he didn't want anyth serious, but I do understand his anger and it makes me feel bad for him, bcs I do think he did like Simon a lot

OK, ANYTH I SAID ABOUT FEELING BAD FOR AUGUST? KILLED, CRUSHED, COMPLETELY DEAD. HOW FUCKING DARE HE

Ok, it doesn't erase that I did feel bad for him when he went thru shit but my rage at him for blackmailing Wille is overpowering any sympathy I feel for the guy

Also ALEXANDER??? BABES I WAS ROOTING FOR U I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN U CAME BACK HOW DARE U BETRAY ME LIKE THIS

OH MY FUCKING GOD, THE ENTIRE FUCKING GUN SCENE WAS SO INTENSE, I ACTUALLY JUMPED

I WATCHED THAT SCENE TWICE IN SWEDISH THEN ONCE IN ENGLISH BCS I JUST NEEDED TO HEAR EDVIN PORTRAY WILLE'S RAGE

Thereeeee goes Felice and Sara's frnship, it was fun while it lasted 😔

YES YES YES YES YES THEY'RE BACK TOGETHER

STOPP NOT THE I LOVE YOU FROM SIMON THEY'RE TRYNA MAKE ME CRY FR I LOVE MY BOYS SO MUCH

Sara?? Telling the police?? Oh god ok good for her for trying to do the right thing but there's still the drug thing and I think it'll backfire...

HE TOLD THE WORLD, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, WILHELM TOLD THE WORLD THAT IT WAS HIM IN THE VIDEO WITH SIMON

The look in the camera 😭 we ended season one with a completely stoic expression and now we have a small smile I LOVEE

Well. That was a giant emotional rollercoaster. I'm gonna need about 3-5 business days to process everything now.

#young royals #young royals 2 #wilmon #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #felice ehrencrona #sara eriksson #august of årnäs #young royals marcus

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canayams-art · 5 months

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yikes ik it's been a while, and trust me ive been meaning to talk more about qianqing, but the uni exams started and now i FINALLY found some free time (and a sticky note at the back of my brain reminding me) to talk 😭

also before anything SEASON 2 LOOKS SOOOO FREAKING GOOOD!! like in absolutely in love with mq and i thought i couldn't love him more but i was fortunately proven wrong ! also it dragged me back into fengqing so there's that hensndkeknd it only took few hot shots of fx and yeah i hate that i love them again but i do and there's nothing i can do about it but accept 😔✊ I HAD SUCH HIGH EXPECTATIONS FOR LQQ AND HE MET EVERY ONE OF THEM SJDJDJD HE LOOKS SO BABY and speaking of him, im sooooo curious what was your favorite lqq scene??

you seem to have read my thoughts when you answered my last ask because THOSE WERE EXACTLY THE SCENES I IMAGINED THEM IN!! mq nagging lqq about paperwork, friendly sparring, lqq sticking around mq during events in the heaven iejejekejej gods i wish i have more time so i can write something for them because this hasn't stopped itching my brain for weeks 😭

i also raise you that they go on missions together, because once mq gets comfortable and once he notices that lqq keeps inviting him, even if he doesn't need the help, he would invite lqq simply for the company!

lqq meeting fy on his purse of revenge could go into sooo many different directions!! like does lqq figure out fy is out on defending mq's name quest and is conflicted because he wants to help but also killing qr takes priority rn? does he try to convince fy to work together?? now i wanna explore every crevice of that meeting and make like thousands fics for it!!

(it's not out of the question, ive done aus out of my own aus! im sure if i find the time i could do this as well😭)

the thing about qiurong for me, as it is with many ships in big fandoms, it feels very forced ig by the fandom? i don't think im wording it correctly, but for me i usually don't end up liking many of those ships because it feels like people would just smush two characters together because they ran out of characters they can pair them with. and it's not necessarily a bad thing, but in this case the most im seeing from qiurong is fluffy family aus, which would never come to mind for me when i think about qr and lqq in a room together. again not a bad thing, not a bad ship, but personally not my cup of tea.

i do have to admit tho, im always kinda leaning towards more canon characterization, so i do have a particular tastes in ships i do ship and in definitely not one of the people who would read anything they can from the ships i like. so i think i wouldn't have gave up so quickly on quirong if i found something that suits my taste, because i do like both of their characters separately.

EXPLORING THE SIDE CHARACTERS RELATIONSHIPS IS ALWAYS THE BEST PART IN ANY FANDOM FOR ME!!! especially as someone whose faves are usually the side characters lol the creativity and the freedom of interpretation, diving deeper into them and putting them into situations and having to think about how they would act in them sjsjjsjd makes me crazy every time!

IVE SEEN YOUR LQQ/SQX ART AND OMG I WAS KICKING MY FEET ON MY BED LIKE A KID! EJJEJEEJ IT WAS SOO PRETTY!! GENUINELY LIVED IT! 😍😍😍

WELCOME BACK QIANQING ANON!! Best of luck with your exams! Make sure you find time to take breaks and rest your brain when you can!

For real though season 2 has been such a treat so far— visually stunning and so fun to watch. I know what you mean about sinking back into fengqing hell while watching it. I’ve been in the same position— once you go fengqing you can never leave fengqing. They’re still so important to me 🥹🥹🧡

ALSO LQQ IS JUST AS ENDEARING AND CHARMING AS I HOPED HE WOULD BE. The way he’s so expressive and always so honest— he wears his feelings at all times and it’s always been one of my favorite qualities of his. Also asking me to choose a fav lqq scene is cruel— I love them ALL!!! From his intervention in the gambler’s den and subsequent fight with Hua Cheng, to the way Xie Lian still wrangles him like they’re still teacher & student, to lqq’s “if I hadn’t stepped in, nobody else would,” to the anger and pain in his voice as he broke his own arm to make a fair duel against xl,,,,, there’s so many good scenes!!!!

I’m bouncing all of these qianqing scenarios around in my head but I’m also especially intrigued by a fy & lqq encounter. If lqq was already close with mq when he was put under house arrest, I don’t know if lqq would be able to ignore that— even if he was still hellbent on revenge against qr. Maybe lqq doesn’t recognize mq in fy’s form— his decision to help would come across as so much more sincere like that, I think. Mq isn’t even present but lqq— who is still so jaded by his own quest— still thinks so highly of mq,,,,,,, I think mq would be taken aback by the gesture. Meanwhile lqq knows what it’s like to be wronged and want to set things right— he can empathize.

I’m shaking your hands on the qiurong sentiments— again, I think it’s fun for people to explore ships however they want. I don’t really like it so I don’t really engage with it. They don’t scratch the right type of enemies to lovers tropes that I usually like and that’s okay! I’ll be peddling my lqq content off in the corner while people have fun in their spaces.

I think it’s okay and important to be selective about how you enjoy your media! Not every piece of art or fic was made to be universally enjoyed and that’s okay! Personally I’m with you on focusing on characterization— If I feel like my silly lil guys would not say the words being put in their mouths then usually I put what I’m looking at down and move onto something else.

We’re alike in side character enjoyment too LMAO. Not to analyze it too hard but— for me at least— I think it comes down to how much they have or have not been explored and the intrigue that comes with that possibility. In more deranged words: they’re chewier! It’s like you said— it’s fun to try and figure out how they would behave in unwritten scenarios.

I’m glad you liked my autumn wind piece!!! I’d never drawn sqx before so that was exciting. I’ve been quietly enjoying people’s reactions to it while hiding so many other lqq rarepair ideas in my pockets 🤫😂

#yams uncans #qianqing #thinking about fy and lqq teaming up and crying about it actually 🥺#also sorry I’m so late responding to this wow

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redflagbreakfast · 1 year

Text

Journal Entry 5: Adios Mexico

As quickly as I arrived in Mexico, it was time to say adios, no rekindling things with Phil, and despite Melania’s best efforts and ferocious swiping, no new flame for either of us to keep us warm in the arctic tundra of Fargo.

Life had been a series of ups and downs. However, I finally upgraded my status and obtained my own airport lounge pass, with the best travel credit card on the planet… the venture x. The $400 fee was offset by $750 in free travel... the benefits don’t mean much when you can’t manage your money and end up with sky high interest and maxed out cards… Nevertheless, although I still occasionally traveled by chicken bus and stayed in hostels, I felt like a boss when I used my pass to enter the lounge without Phil’s platinum Amex.

As I sat at the high bartop stool, I ordered a free frosty mango cocktail and quesadilla. I enjoyed the feeling of being a “baller on a budget” and receiving my free order worth about $24.22. Small victories like this kept me motivated. As I sip on my final Mexican airport cocktail, my mind begins to wander and think of all the stress I had piled on my plate the moment I arrive back home.

I check shopify: 67 orders to fill. Damn..that feels great…but also gets my head spinning..

Most entrepreneurs move from one venture to another, but oh, not me, the multi-tasking maniac. I just keep adding. Four companies now. It’s like an addiction. My plate is full and something has to give. First, I gave up dating and sex, lately, it’s been sleep, next it will be the remaining amount of my sanity. I need some serious help.

Despite working tirelessly and reinvesting every dollar I made, I always felt like it was never enough, but I just received a heartwarming message from my marketing director. She expressed how grateful she was for her job and how it had helped her attend her dream college and graduate debt-free, all while supporting herself and her family.. Although I felt a twinge of jealousy, her message reminded me that the work I am doing is making a big difference in life. I can’t give up, not yet…

Multi-tasking is not something to be proud of. I need to focus on one and let the others go, but I can’t decide the direction. My biggest passion project has been my sexual health and wellness company. My products help women that suffer from pain during sex, and also help increase pleasure. How could I possibly give that up? My design and photography help pay my bills, but my mushroom company is exploding.

My child demands my attention 80% of the time and my mind desperately needs its daily fitness routine. Then there’s skincare, housework, laundry. My friendships and family relationships are also a priority, so what needs to give? I swear. I cannot take add another thing! Buzz…Buzzz. Just as I feel my heart racing and anxiety building. I see a notification from Dr. Sal. My heart jumps a little. The mysterious stalker from Playa.

Buzz…Buzz…another notification….than another…than another. Geez what the hell is this guys problem? I ask myself as I unlock my screen to see what all the fuss is about.

“Hello Pretty lady!”

“This is Sal”

“We met at Illios.”

“Did you put something in my drink, because I suddenly feel crazy”.

“About you…”

Yikes!!!! I think to myself this guy is next level stalker!

“I could be wrong” he continues to text “ but I felt like we both had a certain level of interest in each other. I would love to connect with you. If you are interested let me know, otherwise, I can wish you the best and I will try to get those sexy eyes of yours out of my mind.”

“I hope this is not too direct.”

I promptly respond, “Hey, I think you’re wrong on this one. You were there with a girlfriend, so I wasn’t looking.”

“Hahaha” he quickly texts back.

“Not a girlfriend”

“Just a date for the night.”

“But I have been wrong before.”

What a freaking Liar! I think to myself, as I clearly remembered what she had said, SINCE JANUARY. I decide to call him out.

“My understanding was that you had been traveling together since January.”

“NOOOOOO!!!” he insists “Your intel is not correct…but it doesn’t change the fact that you looked sexy as hell!” His statement makes me audibly chuckle. “Haha! I found it amusing that you asked me if I was “single” single, yes YOU were the one on a date.”

“Well, I AM single and a single date doesn’t change that!” He says. “Want to see where I am now?” he asks, as I roll my eyes. At least this is entertaining. “Sure”, I respond. He sends a photo of an incredible mountain range, with towering peaks stretching up towards the heavens and fluffy white clouds swirling above. It’s like something out of a postcard, or maybe even a dream. I can’t help but feel awestruck by the sheer beauty of it all. It’s not just beautiful, it’s breathtaking. The only mountain I’ve seen lately is my mountain of laundry.

“Fernie, British Columbia, beautiful right?”

“Gorgeous!” I reply.

“Your sexy eyes, and this view, then it would be ideal! I want to take you here on a ski trip, or we can go to Switzerland and ski the alps.” he says.”

“I am an immigrant who is Canadian now, been here since 2007; My heritage is middle eastern, Dubai to be specific. I moved out here for medical school.”

“Gotcha, that’s cool” I reply shortly “So you’re like a retired dentist or something?”

“Haha, if you would have just connected with me on Linkedin.” he responds.

“I don’t feel like you took me seriously at all!”

“I did not.” I say.

“I can tell you don’t take me serious. I am putting effort in here!”

“You have something in you that deeply intrigued me, I am trying to figure that out.” He writes

I reply genuinely, “I will be honest, it takes a lot to grab my attention. I haven’t even been on a date in over seven months.”

“That must be a super hard 7 months, WOW!” he replies.

“Nope!” I say, “I have been too focused on my businesses to even care!”

“That is amazing!”he says. “So the real story is, I saw you the night before on the roof top.

I literally could not take my eyes off you…

Even the girl that was with me was upset with me.

But there was something about your outfit, your energy, it is very sexy.

Now listen, I am a busy guy with work. I find many girls I date don’t get my work demands

They have too much free time on their hands.

I LOVE hustlers. I got to North America in 2002 with a one way ticket and $200 in my pocket. And now I have built up an empire. I have 30 private ER’s, I provide work for over 400 people. I see what I want and go after it. And now, I want you, Kate.”

I feel a flush to my cheeks and quickly try to downplay his words. “Oh really, well me and my friends thought you and your girlfriend wanted a threesome!”

“Hilarious!” he replies “I don’t think that crossed her mind, and I am not into that. I find it amusing that this was the only thought that came to your mind when looking at me.”

“Hey!” I interject, “I wasn’t even looking at you, my friend Melania pointed it out!”

“Wow!” he replies “and I just wanted you..and that is before I knew how smart and driven you are, I just thought you were hot, and I couldn’t hide my attraction from my date. I was in trouble both nights.”

“Ok, I gotta go board my flight Dr. Sal…see I checked your Linkedin” I playfully ignored the entirety of his text.

Wow, this guy is seriously over the top! I mean, come on, it’s obvious he’s a total narcissist, I decided right then and there. (I mean, seriously, did he think his borderline stalking, constant staring, and getting my contact info in front of his date were subtle?) And now, he’s trying to use a little trick called “future painting” to get inside my head and make me think we have some amazing future together. This is like a whole new level of crazy!

So what exactly is “future painting,” you ask? Well, it’s basically when a narcissist plants all sorts of promises and ideas in your head about how wonderful your life will be together. They’ll tell you anything you want to hear – trips, marriage, kids, you name it. And in the beginning, they’re all ears, listening intently to every word you say so they can add it to their “narcissist playbook” for later use. Yep, they’ll use your hopes, dreams, and past traumas to manipulate you down the line.

And don’t be fooled – these guys are masters of pretending to be just like you. “Oh my gosh, purple is your favorite color too? What a coincidence!” Yeah, right. It’s all part of their game to get you hooked on their grand vision for your future together.

🚩details:

#dating #narcissist #red flags #narcissismawareness

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roseunspindle · 1 year

Text

reading The Great Hunt

1/2/23

I just want to pat poor Rand on the head here, he’s terrified that he’s about to be mind raped essentially and he can’t get out, he’s been given like, a sentence of information by one person, who then pretty much vanished and is pretty much told that he should be able to work with that info?

I’m having a hard time reading honestly as I’m sharing Rand’s stress.

1/5/23

I must say the "me girl you boy" distinction everyone seems obsessed with in this book is kinda annoying.

Still... "a daughter strong enough to handle you"

Also is it bad for Rand to worry about his friends?

1/7/23

I keep waiting for someone, anyone really to talk to Rand like he’s an actual person. Oh so he’s stubborn huh? Also you do just want to use him “gentle him later” blah blah... Maybe just sit down and talk to him like he’s an actual person with actual feelings?

Also what’s with many of the Aes Sedai being dudebros and talking about any male like they are a thing/object?

Egwene is coming across like she's rather stupid? Like, "I'm going to visit this guy who went evil to try to "fix" him. I'm not going to communicate this to anyone who may have a slightly better idea why this is in fact a bad idea. Everyone around this man, fellow prisoners and guards are steadily getting nastier.

When I finally tell one of my friends about it and he points out that this is super dumb and that i shouldn't i will get mad because me girl him boy so I'm so much smarter.

Me getting knocked out and nearly dying and almost getting another friend killed through my stupidity isn't my fault and no one is allowed to point out that they warned me.

Also why did that one woman refuse to take a message to Egwene for Rand? Instead going through the shitty thing of "you need to control him" "he'll only improve once he's married" "all men are half feral"....

Like Rand came to the women's apartments, asked to see Egwene as he's shipping out after the horn and the last time he saw her she was unconscious and well, this will be the last time to his knowledge that he may ever see the girl he once thought he'd marry. He just wants to say goodbye... but that woman blocks him and doesn't even as Egwene if she wants to see him or not... then Rand is the one who seems to already accept that the future they might have had together is gone. Only that woman acts like Egwene did something noble? So confused.

I wasn't expecting so much misandry in this book tbh.

1/8/23

Rand’s off hunting the horn/dagger. He keeps saying “I will not be used” as though if he says it enough, somehow he can make it true, poor kid.

A banner Moiraine? Really?

1/11/23

Well Selene has all the marks of an abuser. Yikes.

Also Moiraine you might as well tell Lan he's a too useful parcel to let die as he might wish if his bond breaks. Dear lord....

Nynaeve passing her tests, reminds me of The Room of the Ordeal in Tamora pPierce's books. Tests felt sucky though. Also saying she wants to be Aes Sedai more than anything is assuming a lot, she just wants you guys to not be able to jerk her or the people she cares about around anymore. Also she wants to set Moraine on fire.

So the Aes Sedai set things up so they will get chances to beat young girls?

Egwene deary... Rand talked to other girls and you are angry that they like him. Woo. But of course when Rand expressed a similar jealousy...

#the great hunt #robert jordan #the wheel of time

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under-and-over-the-moon · 2 years

Text

Hunger VIII | Hyunjin

* Please read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, and Part VII before reading the below *

Minors DNI/DNF/Do not read

word count: 10.5k

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

genre: historical!au, fantasy!au, strangers-to-lovers, angst, fluff, smut (but not in this chapter)

warnings: Cyrus is a nightmare, really yikes parenting, harsh language, discussion of abortion, suggestions of forced abortion, insecurity, doubt, pregnancy, Reader is not doing great mentally or physically, pregnancy, mention of erections, brief language

Note that all characters are adults.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took a minute to get out, I have been exhausted from life 😅 Also, this chapter is kind of intense, so let me know if you want me to add a summary to the bottom for those who want to know what happens for future chapters but want to dodge triggers

Comments, questions, and theories are always appreciated! 😊

~~~

The figure remained still and silent for a few moments, but his eyes narrowed in the harsh glare of the sun.

“My beautiful son,” he growled, his last word just dipping into mockery.

You felt Hyunjin flinch beside you, and you reached your hand to his lower back, tracing a single circle to remind him that you were still there.

Cyrus’s words were simple, and could have been kind words of welcome, but the delivery was clearly meant to slash through Hyunjin, to cut him into the smallest of pieces. To make him feel jumbled, small. A warning that the utility of his beauty always came before, and was tied to, his status as his son.

“Please tell me why the fuck you are back here,” Cyrus continued, the disdain now fully staining each word. You could almost hear it drip to the floor as the words echoed against the stone walls.

Hyunjin shifted next to you, desperately trying to rebuild himself in the span of a few seconds, to stack up and stitch back together all the pieces of him into the semblance of a whole person. The edges would still ache at the stitching. They would inevitably scar again, across the same lines where they had been forced to heal a thousand times before. But he needed to collect himself.

As you looked over to him, standing uncomfortably under Cyrus’ gaze, struggling to find his footing, you ached to step in, to launch yourself back into who you always had been in your work in these kind of situations. This was, after all, a negotiation. But you held yourself back – this was his father, these were his gods, and you owed it to him to let him speak for himself. So you just stood by his side, rubbing another slow circle into his back, trying to give him the strength he needed to do this on his own.

“The gods had a different plan for me,” he said finally, his eyes trained still to the floor, “The legends…they’re real. She is the one I am meant for. She was able to do the reading, to read my chest, all of it. So I have taken her as my wife.”

Only now did Cyrus rise up, his expression fully obscured by the shadows as that single band of sunlight moved downward across the broad expanse of his chest. But you could see the stripe of light begin to vibrate as he began to cackle, the sound painfully loud in the silent room.

“I get a letter from the king a few weeks ago, saying how thrilled he is with the marriage, and I thought to myself, for the first time in my life, hm, maybe Hyunjin had actually been useful. Perhaps he has finally done something right, hasn’t been a total waste of space and time. And now you come back with this? Spinning some tale of love meant for children? Are you that much of a fool Hyunjin? How dare you try to blame your idiocy on our gods.”

Cyrus began to descend the stairs, each step punctuated by the echo of his foot against stone, and a single word.

Blasphemous.

Stupid.

Child.

As his face came into view, his whole body now in dull light, you saw the wash of disdain across his face, the smirk pulling dangerously at his lips. And the fury, unmistakable, still burning in his eyes.

You had seen Cyrus before, but you hadn’t bothered to really focus on how he looked. But now, you were caught off guard by how you could find nothing of Hyunjin in his father. Not in his face, not in his body – where Hyunjin was long, lean, elegant, skin aglow, Cyrus was surprisingly short, stocky, his face marked with criss-crossing scars. His body was a perfect representation of the principles on which Hyunjin’s clan has been built – he was rugged, rough, scarred by the harsh elements and his service to the clan. Much like the city itself. As you watched the two of them, like the full moon over ragged rocks, you realized that when Cyrus had called Hyunjin “beautiful,” it wasn’t just as a warning. It was an insult.

And so, there was the extra layer to Hyunjin’s entrapment. Cyrus relied on Hyunjin’s beauty for what it could uniquely provide him, yet it disgusted him. His beauty was an embarrassment. In it, Cyrus only saw what was frivolous, weak, dainty. Everything that the son of a clan leader shouldn’t be.

But still, as much as he hated it, Cyrus needed what that beauty could uniquely provide him. And, in protecting that beauty, that investment, he had kept Hyunjin, too, from building up any of the traits that would allow him to gain his father’s respect. He had kept your Hyunjin like a flower in a glass jar his whole life, yet hated him for never growing past its confines. It was an impossible, twisted maze for Hyunjin to navigate, with no exit.

As you watched Hyunjin shrink in Cyrus’ presence, despite his greater height, your hatred for Cyrus spread from a bitter pit in your stomach, where you had lodged it for weeks, to every part of your body, curling like vines through your veins. You wondered then if this is how Hyunjin felt when he shook your father’s hand before your departure, teetering at the very edge of an outburst.

Cyrus then shook his head, a snigger spreading his lips even wider as he strode terrifying slowly towards you, like a panther ready to pounce, to dig its claws, again, into Hyunjin. You couldn’t imagine how sweetness of Hyunjin could ever come from a tree that bore such poisonous fruit.

“Gods Hyunjin,” he started, an appalled laugh bubbling behind his words, “Were you that desperate to fuck? I know that your preparation for your marriage maybe made you a little too used to it, but this? I never thought even you would stoop this low. Couldn’t even wait until you got to the city to fuck some whore? Just has to fuck her?”

You felt Hyunjin step forward, your hand disconnecting from him. You looked right to see a fury in his eyes you had never seen before, the spark of that confidence you so rarely saw now fully ignited, his eyes all flames.

“Say what you want about me,” Hyunjin growled back, “But don’t you dare say anything about her.”

Cyrus clapped his hands together in mock delight, saying, “Oh are we a big boy now? Trying to fight with daddy? With what? What can you bring to the table now Hyunjin? Stupid, impotent…”

And at Cyrus’ last word you saw Hyunjin smirk for just a second, eyes still burning, his control slipping as his anger eclipsed his fear.

But Cyrus caught it.

“She’s pregnant?” he snarled, eyebrows high, the rage now etched across all of his features, “I told you I would kill you and still you decided to fill her up.”

Hyunjin took a protective step in front of you, his hand reaching back to clasp in yours.

“This child came from a marriage set by the gods,” Hyunjin explained, the fear just started to edge its way into the anger, “They are a great gift.”

Cyrus remained silent for a few seconds, staring straight at Hyunjin, eyes hard. The silence was heavy, full of one-thousand terrible futures.

“Get rid of it,” he finally spat with a momentary glance at your bump. Your breathing stopped at the suggestion, the command horrifyingly painful against your eardrums.

“I’ll make the arrangements. That bastard has no place in this alliance,” he continued, “And you – “

“They’re no bastard!” spat back Hyunjin, stepping forward, now allowing himself to tower over his father. “They’re my baby, with my wife! My gods-given wife, your gods. You say that all you do is to glorify our gods and yet you ignore what is right in front of you!”

“I’m sending you back to the capital,” retorted Cyrus, ignoring Hyunjin, “To do your duty, to give your true wife a child. To have use. I won’t have this nonsense of a fantasy, whatever monstrosity of an infatuation you have going on ruin this. Guards!”

As a group of six guards rushed towards Hyunjin, you saw the fear totally take over Hyunjin’s expression. But there was still, below the dread, a glint of disappointment. He had been prepared for this, had been warned by Cyrus’ own words…but now there was no soft hope to hide in. His father would even do this.

“Take Hyunjin and hold him,” Cyrus instructed as the guards grabbed Hyunjin by the wrists, forcing his hand from yours, “Tomorrow we’ll send him to the capital, to be where he should be.”

And then, as Cyrus turned to you, Hyunjin’s eyes widened with panic as he breathed quiet, terrified, “No…”

“And her…” continued Cyrus, “Take her to holding too. I’ll figure out what to do with her, and that, later.”

You felt the world collapse around you in a fog, the set of hands around your arms to only thing tethering you to reality.

But from outside the mists, you heard, like the distant clanging of a bell on a cold night.

“Please, please, let her go, let her go. I’ll do anything.”

~~~

You came back to consciousness sometime in the evening, your face pressed against hard dirt. Your body ached from being in the same position for so long, hastily dumped on the cold floor. The room was completely dark except for a tiny stream of moonlight that entered through a slit in the very top of the wall, casting your cell in a frigid deep blue.

Hyunjin. Your baby. Hyunjin. Your baby.

Those two thoughts swirled together into your mind until they were just a jumble of letters, a buzz of smashed sounds.

Would you ever be able to hold either of them?

And then the buzz turned again to a fog, to nothingness, and you felt yourself fall again.

~~~

You awoke what you assumed to be the next morning, but you couldn’t be sure – with only the tiniest source of light, you were only really able to distinguish between moonlight and sunlight. It could have been evening, too, for how faint the glow was.

You were now fully awake, but you still felt like you hadn’t fully returned to yourself. There was an emptiness in you, similar to what you had felt on the grasslands, but…

It wasn’t heavy this time. It somehow didn’t feel painful, didn’t claw at your insides.

It was just silent, ancient, like a cave carved into rock.

You didn’t have the energy to sit up or even pick up your limbs, so you simply rolled over onto your back, staring at whatever your eyes fell on.

A crack in the clay ceiling. It dripped sometimes, onto the earth next to you. You watched the water fall, the only marker of time in the faint light.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

There was a creak and then a scratch next to your head, the vibrations of the floor buzzing through your skull.

You turned your head. It was food. A small cup of water.

You didn’t want it. You turned back to the ceiling.

In the corner was a web, sparkling with condensation. There was a spider in the middle, always waiting. It made no noise.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Drip. Drip. Drip. Hyunjin. My Baby.

For just a moment, pain intruded into your emptiness, before quickly receding. But it was still a reminder.

You couldn’t feel the need in you, but you knew – your baby needed food, water. So you rolled over, using all your energy to drag the cup towards you, sipping from it until it was empty. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. And then you reached to grab a small piece of bread, shoving it down your throat. It tasted like a future turned to ash.

You could only take a mouthful.

You looked back at the ceiling.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

A fly flew in through the window, swirling around your head.

Normally, you would have been annoyed to be trapped in a room with a bug like that, unable to escape the hum of its wings. But there was something soothing in it this time, its buzz echoing the one in your brain, making everything fuzzy.

The room got darker. It must be evening.

And then the fog swallowed you, and to you, it was night.

~~~

You opened your eyes sometime later, perhaps on a later day. Perhaps in a later month, a later year. You didn’t know time anymore. All you knew was that the buzzing of wings was gone.

The web in the corner caught your eye. The fly was now stuck there, wriggling desperately to move as the spider approached it. But it no matter how it struggled, it was stuck. You watched as the spider descended on it, devouring it. So again there was silence, only punctuated by drips.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Suddenly, there was a creak. It felt distant from you, like a sound from a dream that after many years you began to remember as reality. But then there was a sudden, intense brightness, the shine of heaven mixed with the pain of hell. So, perhaps, this was purgatory.

“Lady Hwang,” a voice said, echoing in the emptiness, “I am to escort you from this place.”

And then there were arms on you, carrying you out, a long stone corridor coming into view as you returned to the world.

~~~

[An hour earlier]

It was only afternoon, but the priest was already sleepy.

The exhaustion descended on him quickly as he sat in his darkened tent, the only light coming from the fire lit below him, tendrils of smoke swirling around his hands like currents in a stream. He had spent the greater part of the afternoon performing a smoke rite, trying to read the gods’ intentions from the blue curls. But today, no matter what he did, the tendrils of smoke remained only what they were – there was no further poetry to read from them. But he swore, every now and then, he would see them flash red. As soon as it happened, though, it was gone, more memory than it ever was reality.

The priest usually was the most energetic at this time of day, fueled by the slanting rays, but the weariness was unmistakable today. It clawed at his eyelids, pulling down his shoulders just as time had. Another indignity of aging, he thought to himself. He certainly wasn’t young anymore Perhaps he needed the rest to keep this creaky body going.

And so he moved himself to the adjoining room, navigating among his own simple possessions and the smattering of luxuries that Cyrus had brought him over the years. Sumptuous furs, golden bowls, jewels – gifts from Cyrus to his highly favored high priest. The priest tucked himself into his simple bed, pulling the covers to his chin. He would have a small nap, a concession to weight of his years. And so, content, he drifted off to sleep, to the comforts of the void.

Hyunjin…

The voice came to him like a whisper, like a gust of wind, like the sound of a fire being extinguished. He bolted awake, the name still clanging in his head, and he felt, for a second, relief. He was almost sure now that his exhaustion wasn’t from his age, wasn’t another thing to which he would have to accustom himself.

But that relief was quickly and completely smothered by fear. He didn’t know what the voice was trying to say, and that was far worse than any truth that could be hiding behind it. He had to find out what it meant.

And so he quickly threw back the burlap of his blankets, tossed on a black robe, and headed towards the center of the city as fast as his weary legs could take him, the smoke curling lazily behind him as the cold wind blew into his sacred space.

And the tendrils turned again, just for a moment, a dark crimson. They twisted like fingers, grasping at a single second, before they dissipated entirely into the frigid air.

The priest arrived a few minutes later outside a pair of heavy wooden doors, illuminated by the soft golden glow of the lanterns that flanked them. The guards set at either side stepped in front of the doors, following protocol despite the trepidation in their eyes.

“Your holiness,” one of them began, with a slight bow of his head, “I’m so sorry, but the clan head is in an important meeting trying to figure out what to do with a…charge.”

The priest’s eyes flickered to the latticework on the door, through which he could see the fragmented image of Cyrus pacing back and forth, agitated, illuminated by a flaming cauldron in the center of the room. The light bounced against the stone of the floor, the thick columns ringing around Cyrus, the taught faces of Cyrus’ advisors. And the priest heard, from his spot outside, the venom in Cyrus’s voice as he said:

“I don’t care if both Chan and Changbin are sick! So what if they’re delirious? Strap them to a horse and they’ll pull themselves together. They were fine two days ago! They will escort Hyunjin to the capital,” he yelled, staring down a row of advisors, their faces a mix of fear and frustration.

So Hyunjin was back. The priest locked eyes with one of the guards, now even more resolute.

“I too, am here to talk about said charge. I must enter,” he stated. His tone was neutral, words quiet, but he was direct. He would not accept “no”.

“I’m sorry, if you return later I’m sure…” the guard continued. The priest didn’t have time for this.

“Cyrus!” he bellowed, banging his fist against door, which rattled in its hinges.

Immediately, the room quieted, and Cyrus stopped in his tracks, his eyes turned towards the door. The priest knew that Cyrus could only see his eyes through the latticework, but the urgency in them was clearly enough to cause him to step back. Cyrus feared nothing, save the wrath of the gods.

Cyrus turned back to advisors, stating quickly, “You may all take your leave,” before he briefly clasped his hands together, rubbing his thumbs. A rare show of nerves.

The advisors, frustrated, confused, but happy for the respite, rushed towards the door, parting in two streams around the priest as he entered the room. The priest strode in, directly towards Cyrus.

As soon as they all had left, Cyrus said, with an air of fake nonchalance, “Your holiness, to what – “

But the priest had no patience for niceties, to play along as if he fit into Cyrus’s neat political puzzle. And so he cut him off, simply stating:

“Hyunjin is back.”

Cyrus nodded, with just a half-moment’s hesitation.

“Where is he?” the priest continued.

“We have detained him. He went against clan interests and returned, so we must send him back to the capital,” responded Cyrus, face neutral.

“Did he say why he was back?” asked the priest. So far, he was hearing only words, no answers.

“He…came back with another woman, claiming that she was his wife,” said Cyrus, and then he quickly rushed to say, “And he was blaming the gods for it, your holiness, so of course I couldn’t stand for that heresy, to allow him to blame the gods for his lust and poor choices.”

“And how exactly did he blame them?”

“He pulled up that old legend, that child’s tale – he said that that woman was able to read his chest—”

The priest’s heart felt as if it had frozen in his chest. It couldn’t be…

But if it was…

“Are they separated?” he asked quickly, almost desperately

“Of course,” he replied, nonchalantly. But there was just a hint of apprehension in his eyes at the priest’s tone.

“Hyunjin is to be sent back to this capital,” Cyrus continued, “To his legal wife…as for that woman…the break won’t be quite as clean as I had hoped. It appears that Hyunjin left some of himself in her…”

“She’s with child?” the priest asked, just an edge of panic rising in his voice.

“Currently,” sneered Cyrus, “But of course a child conceived outside of marriage, particularly outside of this marriage with the princess…I cannot stand for that. They have both been made aware.”

“You told her that?” retorted the priest, harshly, shock deepening the many wrinkles that lined his face.

Cyrus opened his mouth to speak, but the priest just shook his head eyes wide in disbelief, the anger in him now high, like a sudden flood, all the waters rushing at Cyrus.

“Get them here now!” the priest bellowed, “Now, Cyrus!”

Cyrus jumped backwards, his face for just a moment painted with shock before he pulled it back to neutrality. In all his years as ruler, the priest had never used that tone with him, never yelled.

“You can’t possibly think…”

“We don’t know, Cyrus, but this is not something to take lightly, to throw aside just because it’s inconvenient. If it is as he claims…the potential cost…how could you…How could you react so rashly if this concerns the gods?”

“But, it’s just – “ protested Cyrus before caving to the priest’s continued harsh gaze. And so he stated, exasperated, “Fine, I’ll get Hyunjin, you can speak to him yourself, see that this is indeed just heresy your holiness“

“And his wife,” insisted the priest, “Bring her here too. Immediately.”

“You mean his concubine,” said Cyrus, bravely, ignorantly.

“No, his wife,” the priest repeated, “Bring her here.”

Just the slightest bit folded in on himself, Cyrus did as he was told. And as the guards took off running, the priest seated himself in one of the wooden seats at the periphery, rubbing at his temples.

He could still hear the voice echoing in his head, and it was making it ache.

Hyunjin …

~~~

Hyunjin arrived first, and the priest was temporarily blinded by his beauty. He had forgotten its intensity, the obvious blessing and curse in it.

As soon as his brain adjusted, though, he noticed, beneath all his splendor, Hyunjin himself. He locked eyes with the priest, eyebrows rising in recognition, before the smallest bead of hope dripped into his eyes.

“My wife, your holiness, she’s – please, please bring her back to me, “ he shouted, clearly desperate, on the edge of tears, tearing himself from the guard’s arms.

“Already on her way, Hyunjin,” the priest said, in his most soothing tone, and Hyunjin’s whole body sagged with relief, threatening to give way before he caught himself.

“Please, sit,” said the priest, gesturing to the seat in front of him, “You must be exhausted.”

Hyunjin strode over, the guards who had accompanied him relinquishing their grip under the priest’s glare. He seated himself, refusing to even look at his father, who was seated to the priest’s right, staring out the window as if Hyunjin had never entered. Hyunjin’s foot nervously tapped against the ground, and he threw a glance back at the door every few seconds.

The priest said nothing. There was no need to try to make conversation when Hyunjin was so consumed with the voices in his own mind, when the heaviness of their circumstances would weigh down the empty words of any pleasantries.

And then there was creak as the door opened, and a woman was ushered in by two guards. She appeared to be walking, but her legs looked weak, her eyes distant. And then he saw, clearly, the way her belly curved.

The priest could guess, already, how this would go.

He hoped that he was wrong.

~~~

The first thing you saw when you entered the room was Hyunjin’s face, and then the blur of him as he rushed towards you.

You felt his arms around you as he pulled you to him, whispering into your neck, between the most private, tender kisses he could give you in this public space, “I love you, baby, I love you so much, thank the gods.”

The tightness of his embrace and the soft touch of his lips where your skin remembered him so well sent a warmth through your whole body, and you felt, for the first time in days, almost like yourself.

“Oh Hyunjin,” you breathed, “I was so afraid…” You choked on the words at the end of the sentence, your body knowing it couldn’t digest the weight of the full phrase, but Hyunjin knew what you meant.

“I’m right here, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay, shh,” he whispered, “I got you.”

He broke away from you for a moment, eyes terrified, and asked, “Our baby?”

“They’re okay,” you said, before slumping back against him, and you could feel the relief in the way his muscles relaxed just slightly. But, as your legs buckled under you, his muscles tensed again as he caught you, pulling you up against his chest.

“You must be so tired,” he said, placing another lingering kiss on your shoulder, “Let me take you somewhere you can rest.”

He then picked you up, careful to hold your head against his chest, and carried you to a set of seats on the left side of the room, whispering to you the whole time, “Don’t worry, I got you, I’m right here. It’ll be okay.”

He sat you both down in the chair, draping you across his lap and placing your head gently against his chest. You smiled at him as his fingers carded through your hair, tracing comforting paths along your scalp. And, for a moment, it was just you and your husband.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement, and you turned to see two men. One was Cyrus, staring at your closeness, your affection, as if it was rancid. You wondered if Cyrus himself had every given affection to his own wives, or if this, too, was viewed as a defect in Hyunjin, a sign of his softness. Regardless, you didn’t care anymore - and judging by the way Hyunjin had begun to kiss you even more shamelessly along your temple, now drawing slow circles on your belly, he didn’t either.

The other man you had never seen before. He was elderly, his hair all white, his face with a line for every year that he had lived. He stooped in his chair, shoulders tired from the weight of time, wrapped in a simple black robe. But his expression was bright, his eyes gleaming.

As you locked eyes, he leaned just slightly forward, smiling kindly. He was, apparently, eager to put you at ease.

“Hello, Lady Hwang, I’m the high priest of this city,” he said, gently, “I’m glad to see that you and your husband have been reunited.”

Cyrus’ head snapped to the priest at his use of the word “husband”, but the priest ignored it.

“It seems you are glad too,” he continued, smiling playfully as Hyunjin continued to kiss down your cheek.

Hyunjin stopped kissing you for just a moment, and looked up at the priest.

“Thank you,” he said, seriously, sincerely, “I’m assuming this was…your doing?”

The priest nodded, casting a quick glance at Cyrus before turning back to the two of you.

“I…heard your name,” he said, looking to Hyunjin, “When I was sleeping. It could have meant nothing, but still…I came here to ask Cyrus about you. Last I knew, you were miles away at the capital, married to the princess. But once I got here, I found that you had taken a new wife, that you had said it was ordained by the gods…”

Cyrus couldn’t help himself, offering a mocking, “Yes apparently a blessed one walks among us…”

But the priest, not even looking at him, held a single finger up, silencing him. Cyrus gulped back his words, sitting back in his chair, his gaze equal parts venomous and petulant.

“I was talking to Hyunjin, Cyrus, not you,” the priest warned. And then he turned to you.

“Lady Hwang, I hear you are with child? How many months?”

You attempted to open your mouth to speak, but suddenly you felt as if your mind had gone blank, the page wiped clean. Hyunjin noted how you were struggling, like a fish pulled from the sea, gasping to find the words somewhere in the air, and he so pushed pack a strand of hair that had fallen over your forehead, and just gently said:

“It’s okay, baby, I can explain. You can just rest. You must be so tired.”

You nodded, sinking even further into him, relieved to be able to just listen.

He turned to the priest, and said, “She is, your holiness. About three months now.”

The priest nodded, as he tried to piece together the timeline, and asked, “And was this…after your marriage to the princess?”

“No,” said Hyunjin, “It was the night before I was set to be married. She conceived…the night she performed the reading.”

The priests eyes widened as Hyunjin confirmed what Cyrus had previously implied to him.

“The reading…” said the priest, “But…how did you know to even suggest that to her? How did it…happen?”

And so Hyunjin began to explain, the words pouring out of him now that someone was finally willing to listen.

“As soon as we started our journey together to the capital, I started feeling…strange. I thought it was just the nerves of the engagement, but then one day her hand accidentally brushed against my tattoo here…”

His arm was pinned below you, but he managed to lift it up enough to gesture to his wrist.

“And everything starting spinning, my heart was racing, and I think even then I knew.. Before it was even confirmed, I knew. But I thought to myself – this is just a child’s tale. A legend. A fable. How could it be true? But then one day she was just curious, asking about how far our tattoos go and…I thought it might be my only opportunity to confirm. So I…”

He paused for a moment, throwing his first, quick glance towards Cyrus.

“I…took off my shirt for her. And I let her…touch me. Everywhere on my chest. And at first she didn’t react so I thought perhaps I was mistaken. But then she touched…right here…” he said, gesturing to the skin below his navel.

Cyrus’s eyebrows knit together as his eyes followed the path of Hyunjin’s hand.

“Ah,” he spat, interrupting Hyunjin, “So you were a whore then. You know our tattoos are sacred, only meant for the eyes those we marry after we marry then. Yet you had this girl touch you, even there – “

Again, the priest held up his hand, silencing Cyrus.

“Hyunjin, please continue,” he stated.

Hyunjin nodded, and then resumed his story.

“And when she touched there, “ he said, “I saw her jump and then I knew. I knew she was reacting to what she saw, the…intimacy of that image. I knew that she saw the position in which we would first be connected, our bond first set. I knew then that she was my true wife, and at first I tried to stick to my duty, to let her live her life as she wanted to, undisturbed by me, but then…”

And then Hyunjin went on to tell in detail, of every day you had spent together after his realization as you approached the capital. The dreams of an unfulfilled future that kept him awake, the burn that spread across his, your “yes” in the mists, the way it hurt him to be near you as much as it hurt him to stay away from you. Your eventual questioning of him, his revelation of the truth, your shared decision to fulfill the bond, to commit to the future the gods had set before you. Your consummation. The spreading of the gold.

“Gold?” questioned the priest, eyes wide.

“Yes,” replied Hyunjin, “It spreads each time we live one of the events as written by the gods. It’s done so three times now.” The priest nodded, clearly surprised. This was new information, even for him.

And then, with pain in his voice, Hyunjin told of all the time that you had spent apart.

He told of being forced into the marriage with Lia, his refusal to consummate it, finding out that you had conceived his child your first time being intimate together. Your decision to leave. How the king had, inexplicably let him go.

“The king let you go?” interrupted Cyrus, “Did he…annul the marriage?”

“Yes…and no,” responded Hyunjin, still focused on the priest, refusing to meet his father’s gaze, “He told me to go, but made no move to dissolve the marriage or alliance.”

The priest stared intently at Hyunjin for a few moments, before sitting back in his chair, sighing. A shadow passed over his eyes, a spark of recognition. But he didn’t comment, filing it away, simply stating, “Please continue, Hyunjin.” He was hungry to know the full truth.

Hyunjin then described how he had rushed across the grasslands to find you, catching up to you only when you were a few days away from your home. The meeting with your father. His discovery that your future was written in your scar as well, that he could, through it, see you.

You saw the priests eyes widen.

“So you are saying that can see exactly what she does, but in reverse, through her scar?” he asked, breathlessly, earnestly.

Hyunjin nodded.

“Every single scene,” he confirmed.

At his spot near the window, you just saw Cyrus roll his eyes. But, fortunately, the priest didn’t catch it.

“And then?” the priest encouraged.

“And then,” said Hyunjin, “We came here and…”

He shot one worried look down at you, biting the inside of his lip to hold back his emotion. When he looked back up, there was the faintest shine to his eye, the corners of his lips just twitching downwards. He looked towards the floor again, giving himself time to collect himself.

The priest leaned forward, expression gentle, and whispered, “Oh, my son, you have had quite the journey.”

Hyunjin nodded at the floor before slowly lifting his gaze up. There was a new apprehension there now as Hyunjin awaited the priest’s verdict, if he would believe Hyunjin or deem him, as his father had, blasphemous.

But before the priest could say anything, Cyrus cut in.

“I’m sorry,” he sneered, “But doesn’t this just sound like a tale that one would spin to cover their tracks? Weave a little tale based on legend, add a few extra details for flair? How convenient that it isn’t truly verifiable…”

“I can show you the tattoos,” offered Hyunjin, “The gold ones, so you can see…”

Cyrus laughed, totally devoid of mirth, the sound edged.

“Oh yes because the boy who would let this stranger touch his tattoo, especially in that way, is to be trusted…who is to say you haven’t just gotten additional tattoos elsewhere? Gotten it painted? Who knows who else you’d let touch you…shameless…”

“It’s not unverifiable, Cyrus,” stated the priest, “Remember that I was the one who translated those images onto him. If Lady Hwang is able to tell correctly tell me what is written on him – we know that this is the truth. There is no other way she could know. Hyunjin himself wouldn’t even have known, as you well know from your own tattoos.”

“So,” he continued, “It is very much verifiable. Unless you don’t believe me…”

“No of course I do, your holiness,” said Cyrus, quickly.

“Then Cyrus, could you please face away from us for a moment? To protect Hyunjin’s modesty?”

“But she? –“

“Cyrus,” repeated the priest, his voice a warning and a punishment wrapped together, and Cyrus shrunk back, before turning towards the window.

The priest then turned back to you and Hyunjin, a new gentleness washing away the sharp edges that had been there moments before, like waves pulling away fragmented shells from the shore.

“Hyunjin,” he said, “Could you undo the ties of your shirt for me so that I can see your chest?”

“Of course,” said Hyunjin, nodding, before turning to you, eyes soft, “Baby, do you think you can sit up for me for a second while I take this off?”

You nodded, and Hyunjin rushed to support your waist as you placed your hands on the wooden arm rest, pushing yourself up. The room spun for a minute, a swirl of stone and wood and orange flames, all lines and edges blurring.

Hyunjin caught the way you swayed, and he grasped you a little tighter to steady you.

“You okay?” he asked. His gentle voice seemed to slow the spinning until you just felt a little wobbly. You were at least able to keep yourself upright.

“Yes, I’m good,” you responded.

He slowly let go, eyes still on you as his hands descended down the opening of his shirt, swiftly undoing the ties before pushing it open, until all of it was in view. Even though you had seen Hyunjin’s tattoos numerous time, had felt them multiple times, the beauty and intimacy of them still caught you off-guard. In the dim light of evening, the light from the cauldron swirled across the intricate webs of color, drawing and redrawing shadows along the ridges. And, at the bottom of his chest, the light danced in the gold, casting it into every color of a sunrise.

You saw, then, that the priest’s eyes had also caught on the lower part of Hyunjin’s chest. The priest stared for a few moments, transfixed, as if he were looking directly at the faces of the gods.

“The gold…” he said breathlessly, eyes full of wonder, “It is true.”

“I wouldn’t lie to a man of the robe,” replied Hyunjin, face serious, “It was as much a surprise to me as it is to you.”

The priest gazed at is for a few more moments, and then, perhaps just as one cannot stare at the sun for too long, he turned away to look at you.

“Lady Hwang,” said the priest, meeting your eyes again, his expression still kind, understanding.

“I know you aren’t…feeling well, but could you just do one thing for me?”

You nodded, your head heavy, threatening to throw you off-balance. Hyunjin immediately placed one hand on the small of your back, steadying you.

The priest pointed to a place on the upper-left of Hyunjin’s chest, where two ridges crossed, covered in swirls of red and blue ink and scrawled runes.

“Could you put your fingers here and tell me what you see?”

You reached out your hand, placing a single fingertip gently on the skin.

An image of Hyunjin, with your baby. They were sitting on the grasses, below a blue sky, and your baby was sitting on his lap, playing with a flower growing from the ground. Hyunjin tenderly stroked their hair, smiling.

“I see Hyunjin, sitting on the grasses, with our baby in his lap.”

The priest remained calm, but you could see how his eyes widened, his breathe caught.

Hearing your description, Cyrus cut in, stating petulantly, “That could easily just be a lucky guess. She’s pregnant, we live on the grasslands – seems like a scene that would be common to many men in our clan.”

The priest nodded, but he clearly did not share Cyrus’ doubts.

“Perhaps…” he responded, “But if I ask her to identify a more specific one, I would guess that the result will be the same.”

His eyes scanned Hyunjin’s chest before stopping at a point in the center where six ridges met, cast in orange, like the rays of the sun.

“And here, Lady Hwang?” he asked, “Please, include as much detail as possible, just so we can be sure.”

You reached your hand out, and you saw how, even in the tension of the moment, Hyunjin was smiling at you as you tenderly dragged your fingertips across his skin.

You saw Hyunjin, sitting in a tent, and in front of him, forming a ring are five small children, two girls and three boys. He is quite a bit older than he is now, streaks of gray in his hair, but still just as beautiful as he was now. There are wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes and the edges of his lips, drawn by decades of smiles. And he is reading to them from a red book.

“I see Hyunjin, quite a bit older than he is now. He is reading to a group of five small children, two girls and three boys, inside a tent.”

“What color is the book?” the priest enquired.

“Red,” you answered, “It’s thick. Made of leather.”

“And the ribbons in the girls’ hair?”

You hadn’t noticed them before, but you focused again on the image.

“The girl who is older...her ribbon is pink. And the younger one...it’s blue,” you said.

“So it is true…” whispered the priest breathlessly, so quiet that you could barely hear, his eyes fixed on your fingers as Hyunjin pulled you back to his chest, letting your head rest against his bare skin.

Perhaps taken aback by the intimacy of it, the priest averted his gaze for a moment, saying, “Hyunjin, could you please re-tie your shirt?”

“Of course,” responded Hyunjin, the faintest blush spreading across his cheeks. He shifted you for a moment so that he could pull the two sides of fabric together, his hands quickly putting the ties back in place.

Once he was done, the priest turned towards the windows, and said to Cyrus, voice stern, “It is real, Cyrus.”

Cyrus’ head snapped back, eyes swirling like storm clouds. The disbelief and frustration was still present but there was now, too, a glint of wonder. And the occasional flash of fear.

“But…are you completely sure? No room for doubt?”

“I am certain, Cyrus. And to question it any further…you would be questioning the gods.”

He gulped, sitting back. For the first time, he seemed a little unsteady, his authority shaken.

“I have to say…” said the priest, looking back to you and Hyunjin, “When Cyrus first mentioned this…I had my doubts. I, like you, Hyunjin, thought this was more parable than truth. It is human nature to draw stories on top of that which we cannot understand, and I thought this was just another one of those cases. I may pull the images from the smoke and etch them onto skin, but I assumed that the truth of this was something else, something more complex than what the feeble human mind can understand. To translate was simply a part of my role, something I would never fully grasp the meaning of.”

He slumped slightly in his seat, head shaking in disbelief, his eyebrows raised.

“Everything that I know about this, that we as a clan know about this, has been passed down through stories. You likely learned from your mother, as I first did. And then, when I entered the priesthood, the wider story was passed down to me by the previous high priest, before they left. But as there are no definitive texts…it’s hard to know what is truth and what is just embellishment added over the years. And even of everything I know, both truth and pure story…so much is missing. The gold? I never knew…”

And then his eyes fell on your scar.

“And…your scar…I never knew that the gods could work in this way. I thought tattoos were the only way they could write on skin, and only through an intermediary, through priests like me…”

The priest fell quiet again, his eyes still on Hyunjin’s chest, contemplating the gravity of the day’s discovery.

And, as was so common with him, Cyrus read the silence as an invitation to speak. There was still a hint of trepidation in his tone, but the cockiness was pushing its was back in.

“But…did they really have to choose to complete the bond? By the logic of this, all of the men in our clan are going against the gods’ plan by not being with those they are meant to be bonded to. None of us are living out our most holy lives…and yet the world goes on. I understand that there is gravity in this, but the alliance is important too. So if no one else gets to live out their ‘greatest destiny’…”

And then his eyes, fell, venomous, on Hyunjin.

“…why does he get to?”

The priest shook his head, taking one deep, exhausted breath.

“The ways of the gods are mysterious, chaotic…they interfere with our world as they see fit. We cannot, as mere mortals, know why they do or do not touch certain people. We just know that Hyunjin’s destiny, for whatever reason, is important to them.”

Cyrus eyes turned an even darker gray, the electricity in them teetering on the edge of a strike. He was clearly furious that Hyunjin, so weak, so inadequate, could be chosen over him. Especially when it interfered with his plans.

“And…” the priest continued, “There is a difference between not following the gods’ plan because you can’t see the path, and clearly knowing the path but ignoring it. The consequences of the latter are far greater. Hyunjin had a choice to ignore his calling, to let the tattoos burn off but…there are stories. Of those who ignored their bond and survived, but only just. They remained alive but…it’s hard to say that what was left was truly living. To know that you keep living, even though the path you should have taken has been burned away – it is a heavy thing for the soul to carry. Perhaps heavier than what a human being can handle. It is said that the burning leaves behind an emptiness that nothing can ever fill.”

The priest allowed a long, reflective moment to pass through the room.

“So had Hyunjin refused to complete it…” he finally continued, “I shudder to think what would have happened, if he even could have been…”

The priest paused, eyes pointed as he looked at Cyrus.

“…useful to you. And I have to wonder…are you only pious when convenient, Cyrus? It is clear this is what the gods wanted for Hyunjin, and yet you still think of your alliance. Perhaps, you, not Hyunjin, are the blasphemous one.”

“No, no, your holiness, I…” said Cyrus quickly, “I follow the word of the gods.”

The was still an air of frustration to him, of poorly concealed anger bubbling dangerously, but it seemed that the fire below had been toned down. The rage was now simmering, not boiling.

“But…” Cyrus finally said, “If Hyunjin cannot be sent back to the capital, we will need to come up with an alternative plan immediately. I will call for my advisors, and for my sons, so that they can join us here for an emergency summit tonight -“

The priest, with a quick glance towards how you were slumped against Hyunjin, quickly snapped back, “No, Cyrus. Hyunjin and his wife have had a terrible couple of days at your hand. They – she – needs rest. They will go right now to one of the guest tents, where they can recover. We can meet tomorrow, after they have been able to get some sleep.”

“But –“ protested Cyrus.

“Tomorrow, Cyrus,” the priest insisted.

“Fine,” acquiesced Cyrus, rising in a huff.

“Hyunjin knows where the guest tents are,” continued Cyrus, as if Hyunjin was not seated a few feet from him, “He can bring himself there.” And then turning to the priest, “I will take my leave, your holiness, for I need to alert my advisors and sons of our meeting tomorrow.”

And with that Cyrus strode out of the room, his feet slapping hard against the stone, the latticed doors closing with a thud as he shut them forcefully behind him.

The priest tore his gaze from the doors, his eyes falling softly again on the two of you, how you still lay nestled in Hyunjin’s arms.

“Will you be able to manage taking her back?” asked the priest.

“Yes, not to worry your holiness, I know where to take here. And…” said Hyunjin, eyes sincere, “Thank you. Truly. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for bringing us back together.”

“No need to thank me, I am just doing my duty as high priest, just…”

And then, thinking to earlier, when he had first seen you enter the room, the priest’s heart dropped.

“…Be a little extra attentive to her, stay close. I can’t imagine I need to remind you, based on what I’ve seen but…she might need…”

Hyunjin nodded vigorously, simply saying, as he gazed down at you, “I will.”

“Then I too will take my leave,” said the priest, “I wish you both a good, restful night.”

~~~

As the priest hobbled away, Hyunjin turned his full attention to you. He readjusted you in his arms, leaning down to give you the first proper kiss since you had been separated. His lips were soft on yours, but there was an urgency to his movements, the way his tongue met yours. But as you began to melt further into him, he pulled away, pushing your hair off your face.

“Let’s get you into a nice warm bed, okay? The guest tent should be close by, let me just…”

And then he shifted your weight slightly, preparing himself to carry you.

“It’s okay, Hyunjin I…I should be okay to walk.”

He raised his eyebrow, clearly unsure.

“I want to walk,” you said, “I just haven’t really been feeling…like myself…I just want to walk, feel a little more normal.”

You still felt dizzy, a little bit blurry, like you were on a ship lost in the fog, your direction unclear. But, at least now your legs felt a bit more solid beneath you, as if the waves had calmed. You had been on a dirt floor for days…perhaps your body just needed to move, to be reminded of how to stay upright. To remind yourself that you were no longer even afloat at sea - you had finally come to shore, and were, suddenly and shockingly, on solid ground.

“Okay,” he said, eyes still worried, “Okay, but you tell me if you need any help, or get too tired along the way? I would be happy to carry you.”

You nodded, his hands still hovering around your waist, spotting you as you pulled yourself to standing. The wobbliness was still there, but you were fairly sure you could handle a short walk.

“Okay?” he asked.

You nodded, grasping his hand in yours.

“Let’s go, baby,” you said.

~~~

With his hand on your back as always, Hyunjin led you through his city, now cast in darkness.

Perhaps it was the weight that had suddenly lifted from you, but it seemed as if the city had transformed itself since you first entered Cyrus’ throne room. The setting sun almost seemed to have taken with it the city’s rougher edges, leaving a much more welcoming place behind.

The harsh lines and ghostly emptiness that you had greeted you were now replaced by a gentle warmth, the tinkling of laughter. The hundreds of lanterns that had previously hung lifeless on each gray building now glowed orange and radiant against the blue of night and the black expanse of mountains in the distance. People lined the streets, huddled at squat wooden tables, drinking tea and spirits out of sturdy mugs. They yelled spiritedly at each other as playing cards fanned out in front of them. There was sound here, life here, just as there was in your home.

“Hyunjin,” you asked as you rounded another corner, only to be greeted by another lively gaggle of bundled people, “Where were all these people earlier? It seemed so…deserted.”

“The winds are the harshest during the day,” he explained, “And the sun adds to it, so people usually stay inside. But when things get a bit more hospitable at night…people like to come out, to drink, to talk, to play games. The other clans may think us fearsome, but we still like to have our fun too.”

You continued to weave between row after row of cream tents, now a deep periwinkle in the night light, the shadows of flames and silhouettes dancing across them. After a few more minutes of walking Hyunjin suddenly slowed, his shoulders sagging, and you turned to him as he reached out his right hand, gripping the wooden support of the nearest tent, his head dropping.

You immediately placed a hand on his shoulder, and asked him gently, “You okay, Hyunjin?”

“Yeah, I just need…” he said, eyes now shut tightly, “…A second. I think the relief just hit me, that we’re back together, I was just terrified every day that we were apart. That you were hurt…or our baby was hurt. To have things suddenly get better…I think my body hadn’t quite caught up to my brain. It’s still adjusting.”

You rubbed his shoulder, trying to comfort him. You did know what he meant – this fog you were in, this unease – you hadn’t been able to fully shake it. Your body must be recovering from it all, just as his was.

He opened his eyes and turned towards you, and as his eyes met yours, they went wide.

“It’s a match…” he said, breathlessly, “This moment, it…”

At your confused expression, he quickly glanced to your left and right before rushing to undo the ties of his shirt, hastily pushing the fabric aside to reveal a new splotch of gold right next to the one that had been painted while he was on horseback.

But then the wonder in his eyes was quickly eclipsed by worry when he saw the confusion lingering in your face. You always were able to predict these before, but now…the images in your mind were hazy. You couldn’t quite map the moment to what you had read.

“You…saw it too right?” he said, the concern now weighing heavily on the corners of his brows.

“I…” you stammered, “I can’t quite…I’m not sure…” And then you hiccupped as tears started filling your eyes. Why couldn’t you remember?

Seeing your face crinkle up, he immediately pulled you into his arms, running one of his hands up and down your back, the other cradling your head.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re so tired, I’m sure that’s messing with your head, and…”

He broke away from you, a new question spreading across his face, before tipping into fear.

“Have you…eaten anything over the past couple of days? Did they give you food?”

“They gave me some bread, some water…and I drank the water. But the bread, I didn’t…I couldn’t really eat much of it. I’m so sorry, I know our baby needs food, but I just…”

“Oh no, no,” whispered Hyunjin, pulling you back to him, “It’s okay baby, don’t worry, I’ll get you some food when we get to the tent, okay? That should help you get your strength back. That might also be why you’re not feeling so clear right now.”

You nodded, letting him lead you forward.

~~~

The guest tent was as plain as a lodging could be. There were no decorations – only a bed, a small wooden table with chairs, a stack of coarse woolen blankets, and a space for a fire. All in matted tones of white, gray, and brown.

But still, as you sat on one of the chairs, bundled under a generous pile of blankets that Hyunjin had nestled around you, watching as he coaxed the flames in front of you into being, the space seemed warmer. Cozy. Almost like a home.

He placed two black pots on the fire, gently stirring each for a few minutes, before walking over to you and placing two bowls on the wood in front of you.

“Rice,” he explained, “And some plain broth. Not very exciting, but it’s probably better to start slow. If this is okay, I can make you some better stuff tomorrow.”

You smiled up at him, before bringing the broth to your lips, slowly draining the bowl. As you drank, you saw relief creep into the corner of his eyes. And then, another question.

“Where did they keep you?” he asked gently, eyes crinkling with concern, “When they separated us. Was it…comfortable?”

“Honestly,” you said, “I don’t remember most of it…I was kind of…out of it. But I spent most of the time on the floor. There wasn’t much else in the room.”

You saw the corners of his mouth pull into a straight line, and a spark of fury flicker in his eyes. But he beat it back, keeping it from fully igniting. He would wait until later, when you were already resting, to let it burn.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, “I’ll make sure you get some good rest tonight. Sleeping like that, with no bed…you must be absolutely exhausted. I’m…so so sorry.”

His voice cracked, the guilt entering his eyes again like a drop of ink into water. You immediately raised up your hand, cupping his face.

“It’s not your fault, baby,” you whispered, “At all. I think this is just the road we have to walk, in order to live everything out. With the gold spreading as it has…we’re on the right path. It may be hard, but it’s right. And how I was kept…that’s on your father, not you. Never you.”

“Thank you,” he responded, “You are…too kind with me, I think. But still, thank you.”

His eyes then fell on the rice, which remained untouched.

“Could you try to eat a little of this? It’s okay if it’s too much for today, but it might make you feel a little stronger,” he said.

You nodded, and placed a few grains in your mouth, but they felt like glue in your throat. But still, you knew you needed the nutrition, so you placed a few more in your mouth and forced a swallow. Hyunjin looked at you with such pride, as if you had conquered the whole of the grasslands in his name.

And then, a tremor wracked your body, down your spine and along all your limbs. Immediately, Hyunjin jumped forward, placing a hand on your temple.

“Just checking for a fever,” he said, letting his hand rest there for a few moments.

And, despite how you were feeling, you started to giggle.

“What is it?” asked Hyunjin, puzzled by your reaction.

“It’s just…this reminds me of…do you remember on the rock? When I tried to take your temperature and you wouldn’t let me? I thought you were repulsed by me…”

The corner of his mouth turned upwards, painting his face in mischief, a chuckle rolling over his lips.

“Repulsed? Repulsed?” he asked, incredulous as he doubled over laughing.

“More like aroused. As soon as you sat on that rock next to me, I got harder than I’ve ever been in my life. I swear to the gods, I was sure that if you touched me, I was just going to explode. I would never have been able to live that down, especially at that point. You would have thought your companion was the world’s biggest pervert.”

“To be fair, I probably would have,” you laughed back, “But only because I had no idea what was going on in your head. I thought it was just…pre-wedding jitters or something. Gods…I wish I had known then.”

“I wish I had told you,” he said, tone still light, but there was just a hint of regret beneath it, “But I guess now I know how to handle the next time the gods drop a life-changing piece of information in my lap? I’m sure that will come in handy.”

You giggled, placing your hand over his on your forehead.

“So will I make it?” you asked.

“I would say yes,” he replied, “But - “

And then again you shook, as if a cold breeze had flowed through you.

“- I think perhaps we should get to bed?” he continued softly, “Have a night not on the floor?”

You nodded, reaching out your arms, and he immediately jumped up, knowing what you wanted. He leaned over, gathering you up along with all of your blankets, and carried you to bed.

~~~

He laid you down so gently, adjusting the blankets around you before crawling into the bed in front of you, pulling the blanket over you both. He then tenderly pulled your head to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he tucked your head beneath his.

And as you settled into him you felt, from somewhere deep at the bottom of your chest, the aching pressure of a sob, before it crested, shaking your whole body. But it was strange – even as you felt your lungs heave, you didn’t feel sad. Your cheeks remained dry.

Still, Hyunjin pulled you even closer, whispering, “It’s okay, I got you, I’m right here,” as he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I don’t know why…” you said, “I think I feel okay? I’m not sure why my body is reacting like this.”

“It’s been a lot,” he whispered into your hair, placing a single kiss on your crown, “I bet you’ll feel better after some rest. I’ll be right here, you can relax, it’s okay…”

He then moved his hands to the ties of his shirt, undoing them before pulling your left hand to his skin. He silently guided it across its expanse, wanting you to feel the love of all of his selves, not just the version of him with you now. And then finally, he pressed it to the upper left corner of his torso, the image of an elderly him cupping your cheek in bed flashing through your mind.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, “I always will.”

Eventually, the sobs grew muffled and you drifted off, calmed by his gentle hands, the images of him, the cycle of his breathing.

But even with you safely asleep, dread, and a question, still lingered in his mind.

~~~

Lia sat on her balcony, frustration clawing at her bones, insistent.

She had told her father a thousand times what she wanted, and it wasn’t that.

But to the king, her wants were written by a vision in his head, not anything that she had said. Her desires were just the last thread in a tapestry he had already woven, in a color of his choosing.

She slumped further into her chair, sighing, as she gazed at the line of pink on the horizon, separating moon and sea.

~~~

* Part IX Now Available Here :) *

~~~

taglist: @hwangful, @currently-xuxi, @maedesculpaeusoubi, @thebelljug

~~~

Photo by Prince David on Unsplash

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yukidragon · 3 years

Text

Our Life Snippet - Spoiling Dinner

So... been a while since I shared a slice of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings and Always, hasn’t it? A whole month in fact. Yikes! Don’t worry, I’m still working on it, just, ya know, chronic illness. I’ve been getting less spoons to work with these past few weeks. Don’t be surprised if the next clip takes another month to appear.

Anyhoo, onto the clip itself. I figure why not show off some more drama from Step 2? It was referenced in the Adrift snippet that Jamie chose their thirteenth summer to be the time to reveal the big deal Cliff offered her to Cove, so I figured why not give a peek at that? So here’s another slice of Step 2′s moment, Dinner.

As always, thank you to everyone who enjoys reading my work and giving me such lovely feedback, especially the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch. I can’t thank you all enough for encouraging me to keep working on this self-indulgent little fan project.

...

Despite the fact that Cove and Elizabeth had never been friends, and it was rare they even really got along, it was always interesting to see and hear about how Jamie interacted with her big sister. The relationship Jamie and Elizabeth had was always something he could never quite get a grasp on.

“I can’t even imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling,” he admitted after a moment.

Jamie took some time to give serious thought to that statement. It was a tricky thing to explain to someone without a point of reference. A sibling relationship wasn’t anything like a parental one, and it wasn’t really like making friends with a kid who just happened to live in the same house either.

It was also hard for Jamie to want to touch on a topic that would bring the mood down. Still, Cove did remind her recently that he wanted to listen to her problems…

“It’s complicated,” Jamie eventually concluded. She took her time to choose her words with care as she focused her gaze on the tank again, though she didn’t really watch the fish this time. “I love Elizabeth, and when we were really little, we were best friends. Then she started making friends at school like Shiloh and, well… It’s just over time, I guess we just grew apart. She’s still a lot of fun to be around, but only when she wants to be there.” Her voice quieted a little. “But now, she barely feels like hanging out with me.”

Cove couldn’t think of how to respond right away as he grew aware of the melancholy that had settled over his best friend. He knew Jamie and Elizabeth didn’t spend all that much time together, but he hadn’t realized it was something that bothered Jamie. He took his time to consider what to say, pursing his lips as he tried to figure out the best way to help Jamie with something he never had to deal with before.

“Maybe you should talk to her about how you feel about it sometime,” Cove suggested, though with an uncertain note to his voice. He couldn’t even imagine how that talk might go. “If it’s really bothering you, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth would wanna know.”

Jamie considered that before shaking her head a little. “It’s fine. It’s not really that big a deal. Besides, I don’t think that’d really work.” She favored Cove with a bent smile. “I mean, this is Elizabeth we’re talking about here.”

Cove had to admit Jamie had a point there. Although not intentionally malicious, Elizabeth did have a tendency to overlook other peoples’ feelings when it came to doing what she wanted. “I guess you’re right about that.”

Jamie turned to face Cove properly as she strengthened her smile, feeling compelled to soften the awkward atmosphere she had created. “Don’t worry about it. Having a sibling is still pretty great anyway.” She playfully nudged him with her elbow. “And besides, I already have the most amazing best friend in the entire world by my side.”

Cove felt warmth fill his cheeks at that, and he nudged Jamie back softly in return with a shy smile of his own. “I feel the same way.”

Jamie relaxed a bit now that the mood had returned to something more jovial. “And in case you were wondering what it’s like to have two moms, it’s absolutely the best.”

Cove nodded. Even if Elizabeth could be a challenge to get along with at times, he had always known Noelani and Pamela to be friendly and encouraging, if a bit strict with their rules. The Leimomi family were overall probably the best neighbors he ever had, especially Jamie. “That’s… interesting. I think your family is cool.”

Jamie flashed Cove a grin, glad he agreed. It was impossible not to feel like she hit the jackpot when it came to the family that she ended up with. She couldn’t consider having better parents, or even a better sibling.

Of course, talking about parents brought Jamie’s mind back to the dinner she was going to have with Cove and his. Things were weird between the three of them in ways she didn’t know how to touch on.

The little surprise Cliff pulled at the beginning of summer had just made things even more strained. Things felt tense in a way that reminded Jamie of when Cove first moved to Sunset Bird.

That line of thought brought Jamie back to the first time she met Cliff and the deal he had offered her.

Jamie glanced at Cove out of the corner of her eye, noticing that he had gone back to looking at his fish. He probably never learned that ever happened. She doubted that Cliff ever mentioned it, and as for her…

It bothered her. The incident hung over her head for the past five years, popping up in her mind at awkward moments that left her feeling guilty despite the fact that she never took the twenty dollars Cliff had offered her.

When Jamie was little, she held the secret back from Cove for fear that he might decide not to be her friend anymore. He resented being pressured into becoming friends with Lizzie and Shiloh, so he never did. Granted, that was more because he just didn’t click with either of them than due to parental meddling, but still… In her eight-year-old mind, she was convinced that if Cove ever learned that Cliff wanted to pay her to be his friend, he would be so upset that he would never want to see her again.

That fear had disappeared over time as their relationship grew stronger, but that didn’t make the subject trouble her any less.

Jamie was keeping a secret from Cove - a big one. Usually, they told each other everything from silly jokes to their darkest thoughts. The only other thing she kept from him was just how deep her feelings were for him, and she already had a plan in motion for how she was going to tell him about that.

Much like with her crush, Jamie had sought out Lee’s advice about the incident with the twenty dollars. Her cousin had encouraged her to just tell Cove about it, if only because it bothered her for so long and wouldn’t stop haunting her.

Besides, Cove deserved to know that his dad did something like that behind his back. This incident with Kyra proved that Cliff was still pulling stunts like this, and not just on him.

Jamie knew that if the positions were reversed, she would want to know the truth about something as big as this, and as soon as possible.

It had been five years. They weren’t eight anymore. Telling Cove wouldn’t destroy their friendship.

She had to tell him.

Jamie placed her hands on the mattress to steady herself, drawing one back into her lap when she accidentally brushed it against Cove’s thigh. The unintended touch drew his gaze back to her - she could feel it even through her closed eyes. She took in a deep, steadying breath as she prepared herself.

The quiet that had settled between them was comfortable, Cove thought, finding it a sharp contrast to the uneasy atmosphere that had overtaken his home since the beginning of summer. Jamie’s presence made things easier on him - it always did.

That was why Cove didn’t expect to see Jamie looking so tense all of a sudden. He could tell that she was building herself up for something, but he couldn’t imagine what. When she opened her eyes and looked at him, her expression was solemn and tainted with nervousness.

“Cove,” Jamie said before pausing to wet her lips. “There’s something… I-I have something important to tell you. Something… something you’re not gonna like.”

The undercurrent of unease to the way Jamie spoke troubled Cove almost as much as what she said. He turned to give her his full attention, his knees bumping against hers in the process. “What is it?”

For a moment, Jamie could only stare into her best friend’s ocean blue eyes. Cove waited patiently for her to find her voice again, but the longer it took her, the greater the tension grew. She could see it in the way his brow furrowed and his lips curled down into a frown.

Please don’t get mad about this, Jamie thought desperately, feeling as though her stomach was tying itself in knots. She was already regretting her decision, but she had already said too much; she couldn’t just drop the topic as if it never happened. She had to take another deep breath to steady her nerves as they started to fray on her.

“It’s… um… it’s about way back when you moved here,” Jamie finally said, practically forcing the words out. “Before we met, I actually met your dad first and…” She started to falter as what she wanted to say started to fall apart in her mind, and she scrambled to right herself. “It was… your dad he… um, well…”

Jamie had to pause to gulp down another lungful of air, feeling as though there suddenly wasn’t enough around her.

Cove started bracing himself for whatever Jamie was struggling to tell him. The more she spoke, the more nervous she grew, and it was making him anxious as well, impressing upon him the seriousness of what she wanted to tell him.

Whatever this was, it was big, and he needed to be ready to deal with it.

“Your dad offered me twenty dollars to be friends with you.”

The words came out of Jamie in a rush then hung so heavily in the air between them that the already thick atmosphere turned suffocating.

Cove locked up. For a moment he couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. What Jamie told him made everything else disappear.

His dad… bribed Jamie to be his friend?

Jamie held her breath as she waited for Cove to respond. He sat still, so utterly still. He was no longer looking at her, but through her, as if she ceased to exist. His face, always so easy for her to read, was uncharacteristically devoid of expression.

Then Cove was moving. He said nothing as he rose from the bed before bolting from the room.

For a moment, Jamie froze up as well. Shock kept her rooted to the bed even after Cove disappeared around the corner.

This was… oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no!

Jamie tore after Cove once she could move again, panic giving her feet wings. “Cove!”

Cove didn’t hear Jamie. He didn’t even hear his parents as they bantered while setting the table, oblivious to what was happening. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as he reached the living room.

For a moment, Cove could only stand there and glare at his father. His entire body was a tense coil, ready to spring. His hands faintly shook from how tightly he clenched them into fists at his sides.

Although Jamie caught up to Cove, she froze again just short of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know exactly what he was feeling - he was furious.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kyra asked as she finished setting down the last glass on the table. “When did you start running in the house?”

Cliff flashed Cove a wink as he wagged the spoons he carried at his son. “Are you that famished?”

The friendly banter didn’t register with Cove at all. There was room for nothing else inside his mind but the betrayal he felt towards his father that sent his entire body quaking with rage.

It had only just begun to hit Cliff and Kyra that something was wrong when Cove took a step forward.

“You paid Jamie to be friends with me?!” Cove shouted as he glared daggers straight into his father’s widening eyes.

Cliff froze, the spoons dropping from his hands onto the table with a clatter. He looked like a helpless deer caught in the headlights of a speeding semi.

Kyra recovered from the shock first, and rounded on her ex-husband. “Clifford!” she shouted as outrage overtook her as well. “Are you serious?!”

Out of reflex, Cliff turned his wide eyes to Kyra, blinking at her rapidly. “It was only one time!”

The blurted admission left Kyra reeling back, aghast.

Cliff raised his hands up in a defensive gesture, his eyes darting between his ex-wife and his son as they both stared him down. “I-it seemed like a good idea when it happened.”

As the shock waned, Kyra brought a hand over her eyes. Her jaw was set, her patience frayed, as anger slowly gave way to disappointment.

Cliff bowed his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost shrinking in on himself before their eyes. The fact that Kyra accepted that he would do something like this so easily was the most crushing part.

For all his anger, Cove had nothing else he could say to his father after his initial outburst. He could only stand there, fuming silently during his parents’ short exchange. The tension in his body was so strong it was painful, his eyebrows furrowed hard and his eyes trembling as he continued to glare at his father.

That was all Cliff had to say for himself? That he ‘only’ did it once? That it ‘seemed like a good idea’? What part of this could be considered ‘good’ at all?!

Jamie could only watch helplessly from the sidelines at the disaster she had created. She had been afraid that Cove might be angry or hurt to hear about the deal his dad offered to her, but he took it far worse than she ever imagined. That wasn’t even going into how badly Kyra or Cliff were feeling about it all.

Jamie felt so bad for Cove. She wished for the power to rewind time to five minutes ago so that she could choose to just keep her big mouth shut. Having a stupid secret about something she didn’t even agree to hanging over her head was nothing compared to the pain that she had inflicted on her best friend and his family.

Everything was horrible, and it was all her fault.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #Cliff Holden #Kyra Preece #My Writing

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feysandfeels · 3 years

Note

I gathered you read the chapter... how are we feeling, any thoughts you might want to share?

There I was, writing on my journal after a decent day at work when this fucking bomb exploded quite literally on my lap. But fear not I am here and we shall discuss until we can make fucking sense of it. Should I even warn you of the length of this post, or are we all on the same “Luisa can’t synthesise for shit” boat now?

I. Azriel

I will start by saying that this does not make me hate Azriel or stop caring for him and wanting what’s best for him. I still do very much love him. This however does not mean I applaud or get behind how he expressed himself during this specially chapter. For me it was quite disturbing to see how he saw Elain merely as a sexual partner and thought that that translated into love. If he had made the distinction between being physically attracted to her and being in love with her, then I don’t think we would all be feeling like we are. Because it is fair to be sexually attracted to someone but not necessarily in love with them.

From what we saw I think we can gather that Azriel knows Mor is not into him and in his grief from all those years being in love he wants something immediate and there. On top of that he sees his brothers settled and feels like he is owed from the cauldron, so of course he starts seeing Elain as the perfect “solution” to his pain. Now, of course Elain (and no one for that matter) should be seen a solution to anything really. Much less he should jump on that boat and already think of her as his. Az, my sweet, possessiveness is not love.

When I first read the chapter something stood out for me, he said he’s envious of his brothers and the emotional stability they both have, the fact that they were both chosen by the ones they love. We know Az loved Mor with all his heart and although she loves him too, it was not corresponded on the same energy since she is well bisexual homoromantic. He, so far, does not feel chosen in that same sense, which only feeds his insecurity of being unworthy.

In his envy he oversimplified things, he saw what both Rhys and Cassian now have and did the simple most stupid math ever: he went Rhys+Feyre = love, Cass+Nesta = love... hummm then If I’m single and Elain is single then it must mean Az+ Elain = love. (Sugar I love you but that is dumb as fuck). This has the same energy of when you are in high school and you let your friends convince you that you are actually into someone when you are really not, but then you buy into it and start believing in it yourself. In this case he was the one who created that push and convinced himself that it was the right thing.

I think so far we can gather a few things of the place Az is at right now: he is feeling extremely lonely, extremely envious and extremely sad. I do not think this excuses his behavior at fucking all, but at least we know where he is coming from. He is clearly mistaking sexual attraction and possessiveness as love. But I do think it all stems from this turbulent place he is at emotionally, not because he is a bad person.

I do not thing he is a bad person for thinking of Elain as he does, because I truly think this is a set up for the growth he will experience. Is it a good look? honey no. But is it a realistic one? I dare say it is. As I said when I read this I got full on high school bull shit vibes, I thought “ohh I’ve seen this film before and I have lived it”. He is being immature and there is no denying. Which was only confirmed with him regifting that necklace... sugar... that was a dick move, very fucking dickish move -specially since it was alluded that they might have feelings for each other–. My man needs to do some emotional growth because yikes.

II. The Narrative

Now, I have said before that for me, Sarah’s strength lies not so much on her world building or the originality of her works (which is not to say that her worlds suck or her narratives are not interesting and offer something new), but it lies more on her characters. To me she has always excelled at creating characters that do exemplify the range of humanity in its good, its bad, and all that’s in between. Even you can look at stuff that your fave did and go “yeah not cool at fucking all”. At least I know I can and I adore almost every character in this series. I love characters not because they are perfect but because I can either relate to them or because they allow me to understand and experience points of view that are alien to my own experience. Sarah has never made characters black and white. Your faves will make mistakes. Feyre has, Rhysand has, Cassian has, Nesta has, Elain has, Lucien has, Mor has and Az has.

What make her books interesting from this perspective is that she says “characters development does not equal character growth”. Take Chaol for example –if you haven’t read ToG do yourself a favor and read it– his character arc is one of the most interesting and best fulfilled ones in that series because we saw him at his lowest, when we couldn’t empathize exactly and he was being an ass, and then we saw him question his problematic behavior and move past it. Character development means just that: that the character move from point a to point b. It doesn’t mean he will be better by the end, but it means movement. Character growth does mean he will hopefully get to a place where they are “good”.

I think she knows exactly what she is doing with Az and with this teaser. Need I remind you of the chaos the bonus chapter in ACOFAS left this fandom in for a solid two years. This got our emotions high and got us one way or another expecting to see where this will all lead. I don’t think any of us were expecting this chapter when it was announced that Az would get a pov.

III. Conclusion

To conclude I just want to reiterate that I don’t support how he’s is behaving. I think I am accepting how he is behaving. Acceptance however does not meant that I am behind it, it means that I accept it and I am willing to stick around to see him grow out of this and realize why this is all so wrong (because well you know I can’t actively engage with him since he is... you know... fictional). I have had moments like this with some of my closest friends irl with whom we’ve had talks about previous behavior and have had the “be fucking better” talk, which is something that Rhys essentially said (GOD BLESS YOU BOO), and is also a sentiment most of us shared, even Feyre, when Rhys forced Mor to face both of her abusers and then didn’t consult her when selling Velaris off to her dad. And to me that is part of what friendship means, it means being there through the growth.

Everyone has their own limits of what they can understand of a character/person. If this is your own then it’s fine, no harm no foul. If this is what makes you jump ship from Elriel (that’s their ship name right?) then hey all good, I’m sorry for your loss.

I am not an Azriel hater, nor I think I will ever be. At least not from the information I have right now. I do still love him and as I have said before I want to see him happy and with a healthy amount of self confidence (and no Azriel saying you could easily kill Lucien is not the healthy self confidence I am talking about). So if anything I am interested in the arc his character will face, we just caught him at a moral low –which to me still has a solid chance of growth–.

I hope this offer some light or whatever. And remember take it easy, it’s okay to feel things deeply but don’t quit in the middle of the war, we still have his book coming up and I am 100% that will enlighten us more.

ANYWAYS, LONG LIVE ELUCIEN BITCHES.

#jesus fuck that was a long one #Azriel #ACOSF spoilers #A Court of Silver Flames #A Court of Silver Flames Spoilers #Sarah J Maas #ACOTAR #ACOMAF #ACOWAR #ACOFAS #ACOSF #Elain Archeron #Inner Circle #Feysandfeelsasks

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haikyuu-scenarios-drabbles · 3 years

Text

Shower Friends (Miya Atsumu x F!reader)

The dorm you live in has co-ed bathrooms. Why that’s remotely a good idea is beyond you; and recently, your precious shower time is being interrupted by a certain blonde haired setter for the volleyball team. When he lies to his teammates that he has a girlfriend, somehow you get roped into his scheme.

genre(s): college!au, fake dating, angst, fluff, mutual pining, enemies to lovers (kinda), eventual smut (maybe) words: 3.5k

a/n: ah the sweet sweet smell of mutual pining. also 3 more chapters are planned, not written yet though bc i just decided i’d be writing them lmao. hopefully can get started on that this weekend and post them next week 🤗

taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium @vicassa @carbs-need-more-love @underratedmage @idek-at-thispoint @wtfeverbrandi @food8me @yikes-buddy @ntimacy @nyxiie @oikawasbooty @chocolate3010 @sugawarabby @greenyiplier @kritiiiii @tokyosdawn @youstydiaa @h3llok1ttygirl

one | two

Chapter Three

“You want me to help you with what?” You ask, a bit stunned when he showed up at the door, a terribly annoying but also cute pleading expression on his face.

He groans, his shoulders hunching forward in exasperation. “Ya really gunna make me repeat it?”

You peer closer at the top of his head and see that he’s being serious. The roots of his hair growing in are a dark brown and it had never even occurred to you that he dyes his hair the blonde color you’re so used to. “No, but why do you need my help?”

This is so embarrassing. Normally his roommate or a teammate can help him but none of them are available today and he’s already let the roots grow longer than he likes. But when one of them suggested you help him out instead, something inside him rebelled. For some reason, the thought of having you dye his hair for him made him uncomfortable, like he’s showing you an intimate part of him. This hair has been a part of him so long he can’t remember the last time he’d let it grow out.

“I can’t see if I got everything,” he admits. It took a lot of pacing around his room and staring at his roots for him to get up the courage to come over here to ask you. He can’t really explain why he was so against it, especially since you don’t seem to mind after you got over the initial shock of realizing this isn’t his natural hair.

A wave of relief washes over him when you sigh, conceding, “Alright. Just let me change into something I can get bleach on. I’ll meet you at your dorm.”

While he waits for you, he busies himself with mixing the dye together so it’s ready for you, and when you arrive in a t-shirt and shorts with paint splatters all over them, he mentally kicks himself for thinking about how even wearing something so simple you still look better than anyone he’s ever seen. Crossing your arms, you motion for him to take a seat at his desk. Before he does so, he reaches behind his neck to grab at the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head.

You stand there dumbfounded for a moment, it taking you a second to process that he’s now standing before you shirtless and you’re free to ogle his muscular chest and arms to your hearts content. He doesn’t pay any attention to you, knowing if he meets your gaze, he won’t be able to stop the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. Instead, he wraps a towel around his waist to protect his shorts and sits in the chair to wait for you.

Except now, you have free reign to stare at his back, which is just as defined as the front of him and you need a few more seconds to reel your thoughts back.

“Whaddya waitin’ for darling?” He drawls, throwing you a glance over his shoulder, not expecting you to be standing there frozen, eyes pinned to his now bare chest.

He opens his mouth to tease you further, but your eyes snap to his and you practically shout, “Do you have another towel?” He just cocks a brow and then points to his closet where another towel is hanging on a hook. Snatching it, you return to him and drape it over his shoulders, hiding most of his annoyingly toned body. “Don’t want to get any bleach on your skin,” you explain, no way in hell ever admitting to him that you’re finding it hard to focus with him on display like that.

Absentmindedly, he hands you one of the clips he bought a long time ago, one that’s almost completely bleached itself and you start running your fingers through his hair to section it. He closes his eyes, focusing intently on the soothing sensation of your fingers on his scalp, doing his best not to groan out loud at how good it feels. With anyone else, this isn’t anything special, normally he sits as patiently as he can whilst trying not to annoy whoever is doing his hair (lest they decide to ‘mess up’ as punishment). But with you, it’s a different feeling entirely.

It's jarringly intimate as you clip his hair back and reach over him to grab the plastic gloves that came with the dye. Lathering up the applicator brush, you start slathering it onto his hair, trying your hardest to make sure it’s evenly distributed and surrounding each strand. As you do so, you ask, “How long have you been doing this?”

He resists the urge to shrug, not wanting to jostle you, replying, “Osamu and I started in middle school.”

“Osamu dyes his hair too?”

“Yeah, he goes for gray. But I’d heard blondes have more fun so—here we are.”

He grits his teeth as your fingers skim over his scalp, glad for the towel you wrapped around him to hide the goosebumps skittering along his bare skin.

“Let me guess,” you muse. “You guys did it because people couldn’t tell you apart?”

“That,” he laughs, “And we thought it would look cool. The first time we did it, it looked like shit.”

Your answering laugh warms his heart as you unclip a section of hair and keep working. “I can’t imagine your mom being too happy about it.”

“Livid. We got bleach everywhere.”

You laugh, continuing to move through his hair methodically. It doesn’t take very long as you’re just dying his roots and they weren’t that bad to begin with, contrary to what Atsumu thinks. When you finish, he gives you a sheepish look and has to swallow his pride to ask you to help him wash it out. Every time he’s tried to do it himself, he always ends up leaving a huge chunk of bleach somewhere.

You oblige, following him to the bathroom, not bothering to care about the looks you get along the way. If they want to stare at a shirtless Atsumu and then glare at you for having that all to yourself, that’s their prerogative. It does wonders for your confidence, regardless that all of this is a ruse.

Luckily, the bathroom is empty and Atsumu dutifully bends over the sink to let you start washing the dye out of his hair. He’s immensely grateful his eyes are shut, and his face is shoved into the sink to hide his flushed cheeks as he thoroughly enjoys your fingers running through his hair. The sensation of your fingernails lightly scraping over his scalp makes him ball his fists as he has to bite his lip to keep from making any sounds.

You’re unbothered, until you notice the towel has slipped from his shoulders and with the way he’s bracing himself against the counter every muscle in his back and arms is on display for you to see. It’s an effort to continue your task as if nothing is wrong and force yourself to look off into the distance instead of eyeing him up.

It’s no easy feat. Especially when you finish and he rises, scrubbing at his face with the discarded towel before moving on to his hair. You press your lips into a firm line and let yourself indulge just a little bit looking at the way his muscles flex with the movement, droplets from his damp hair trailing down the planes of his chest towards the waistband of his shorts and—your attention is broken at the sound of him chuckling and you snap your gaze to his.

You find him staring at you with mischief sparkling in his eyes, so you speak before he can tease you. “Is that it?”

“We have to actually dye it now.”

“Oh.” You turn on your heels desperate to escape his gaze. “Let’s go then.” A smirk plays across his lips, but he refrains from teasing you, solely because he very much enjoyed the way you were looking at him and doesn’t want you to stop.

And yeah—sue him if he thinks about your hands in his hair for the rest of the day. In the end, he might be a little grateful no one else was available to help him.

When mid-semester break arrives, it comes as a surprise that you actually miss each other. What surprises you even further, is that he’s the one to bring it up. Within the first night, he video calls you, a sheepish expression on his face, explaining he needed someone to complain to.

“What do you mean?” You teased. “Sounds like you’re getting stuffed with good food from Osamu and you have plenty to brag about.” You winked, smiling devilishly at him and pointing to yourself. You’re only joking. Slightly. You aren’t sure what will come about if he tells his family about you, or if that’s even a good idea. It’d be much easier to break this off cleanly without the involvement of each other’s families.

He sighs, flopping down on his bed and scrubbing his face with one hand. “They’re just dyin’ to meet you now.”

Your brows lift, half-expecting him to have tried to keep this a secret. “You told them?”

“I wasn’t gunna,” he explains. “But apparently some college sports news channel caught um—,” he coughs awkwardly, remembering very vividly this day, yet the two of you haven’t acknowledged it since. “Our—uh—celebration.”

Eyes widening, you stare at him a moment before the both of you burst out laughing. Between your giggles you manage to say, “Oops.”

Laughing alongside you, he grins, despite the pang in his heart at the voice in his head desperately trying to remind him all of this isn’t real. You aren’t his girlfriend and the moment all of this ends, you probably won’t bat an eye at him ever again. He hates how much that hurts.

Forging onward towards his demise he discloses, “I am now a very proud owner of a very jealous brother now, so thank you.”

That only makes you keep grinning, setting a hand on your cheek and dramatically saying, “What? Of little ol’ me?”

He fights the urge to tell you that yes—jealous of little ol’ you. The girl who is slowly becoming the girl of his dreams. The beautiful, funny girl who deals with him and everything that comes with him. He swallows all that, keeping the mood and saying, “He refuses to let me try any of his onigiri. A crime, really.”

“Of the highest caliber,” you agree, stifling your laughter. “Though I’m sure you steal some when he isn’t looking.”

“Yeah, but he caught me and hit me on the head with his spoon.”

“How dare he. Lucky for me, my family is clueless.”

“What do they think yer doin’ right now then?”

Shrugging you say, “I told them I had a project to work on with a classmate. Which isn’t entirely a lie, I do have a project to work on. But someone interrupted.”

He smirks. “Wonder who that could be.”

“Beats me.” His responding grin does something to you that’s been happening a lot more frequently lately. Making you feel like all the air has been punched out of you and like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Though, you’ve gotten quite good at hiding it.

In the distance, you hear someone calling his name. He panics, it’s bad enough his family knows about you now, but he isn’t sure if he’s ready for them to meet you. Especially Osamu, who he has the sinking feeling is already suspicious of this. It’ll be a miracle if he can slip this by him.

“Gotta go!” He says quickly, and before he ends the call, he hears you chuckle and say, “Beware the spoon.”

Every day his situation only gets worse.

The next night he can’t get Osamu off his back. Enough that when he tries to retreat to his bedroom to give you a call, pathetically missing you again, Osamu bursts in when he’s about two minutes into the video call with you. He tries to shove him out, embarrassed and afraid Osamu will see straight through him. But Osamu is stubborn, and he hears you laughing on the other end of the call before saying, “Aww, Atsumu won’t you at least let me try to charm the pants off him?”

He grits his teeth, the thought that he wants you to charm the pants off of him, not his brother flitting through his head before he can stop it. But he relents, letting Osamu sit backwards on his desk chair to join the conversation.

He isn’t sure how, but somehow you get Osamu to believe this is real in a matter of minutes. You have him laughing and talking about culinary school and he almost feels jealous that your attention is now on Osamu instead of him. It’s a ridiculous notion, he knows it, but it doesn’t stop him from keeping the camera on him as much as possible.

When the call ends, Osamu looks at him seriously, and for a moment Atsumu thinks he’s just been pretending to believe you this entire time. However, he breaks into a smile and smacks him on the back saying, “Got yerself a keeper, there.”

Atsumu tries to grin with as much sincerity as he can. Yeah—he knows he does. But that isn’t going to stop this from ending.

That night, both of you go to bed feeling like you’re getting in too deep.

And as per usual, when school starts back up again, neither of you bring it up. You’re happy to keep ignoring it, hating yourself for liking this arrangement and him more and more every day. It sad really, how much time in your day is spent thinking about him. Wondering if there’s any possibility that the two of you could just transition to a real relationship. Because to you, that’s already what this is. Nothing would change, but at least you’d stop feeling guilty every time you enjoy his hand in yours or the soft press of his lips to the top of your head.

A few days after returning to school, you find yourself alone with him in his dorm room studying. He’s sitting at his desk, hunched over a textbook while you lay on his bed, head propped up by an elbow. You can feel your eyes drooping, the words blurring together, it becoming harder and harder to stay awake. His bed is too comfortable and smells overwhelmingly like him, a scent you’ve come to enjoy every time you’re pressed up against him. A mixture of his body wash and the ever-present faint smell of the volleyball court. Eventually you’re powerless against the solace of sleep.

When Atsumu notices you, his heart jumps into his throat. You look so serene and peaceful, your chest rising and falling ever so slightly, part of him wants to crawl in beside you and press his face into your neck and fall asleep right along with you.

But he too has begun to feel like this game has gone too far. The moment he had to tell his family, lie to Osamu, he knew he’d crossed a line. It isn’t fair to you. No longer does he need to pretend for his teammates that he can have a serious relationship, there isn’t a reason to torture himself and keep you tied to him anymore.

Yet, thinking about not being without you, no longer eating lunch together, studying together, or having you in the stands at his games wrenches his heart in such a way he actually feels like it’s crumpling inside his chest. He hasn’t been able to admit it, but at some point along the way, he thinks he fell in love with you. And it just hurts too much to keep pretending. Especially when you’re only doing this for peace and quiet during your showers.

For you, he shouldn’t drag this on any longer.

So, a couple days later, you texted him telling him you were in the library and can join him anytime if he wants. A harmless text, one you’ve sent him many times since this whole thing started, but this one makes his heart sink. Knowing this is the opportunity he’s been waiting for to talk to you. He tries to not think about it, trying to let volleyball take over his thoughts, but it’s futile. All he can think about is saying those words to you, and how it’s quite possibly going to utterly destroy him.

But you take it well, as he expects, squashing the hope that you might feel something for him too.

That night in the library feels particularly lonely. There’s no quick-witted remark from the boy who carved himself a place in your life, no one there to make you laugh when you’re struggling with a problem. Instead, you’re met with nothing but the darkness and silence of the library. It’s almost too much to bear, and once the silence starts closing in on you—you force yourself to leave, refusing to let yourself wallow.

The next weeks are hard. He never imagined that he’d think that after all of this was over. He keeps showering in the mornings to avoid you and uphold the deal you two struck months ago. He ignores the empty hole in his chest when he eats lunch without you, or studies late alone. The most jarring thing is your absence at his games. He constantly finds himself searching the crowd for your face, before remembering you won’t be there. He misses that intense gaze he could always feel on his back, the one that kept him awake at night when he let his thoughts run wild.

He feels as though something has been ripped from his life, leaving nothing but a gaping hole behind that seems intent on devouring him whole.

The same can be said for you.

Who knew you’d ever miss his teasing remarks while you shower? Or miss how you could complain to him endlessly about classes and then have him comfort you in the warm solace of his arms? Even the little things like walking to class together, now that you do it alone, it feels like there’s something missing.

The two you go on like that, thinking of the other every night before sleeping, tossing and turning with the thought of what could have been.

And eventually, you reach the point where you’re over it. Over pining after him day after day, peering out your door to make sure he isn’t around, or taking detours just to avoid him in the hallways. You’re over it. Enough that you’re willing to swallow your pride and confess to him, even if he doesn’t feel the same way—maybe you can fucking move on then.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you stomp to his dorm room, his roommate opening the door; his eyes widening upon seeing you. Immediately, he grabs his keys saying into the room, “I forgot I need to go to the store Atsumu, see you later.”

He leaves no time for Atsumu to protest, out the door in a matter of moments, leaving you standing in the doorway. Atsumu is just sitting in his desk chair, looking dumfounded at you, having fully expected to never see you again.

The gears in his head grind to a halt as you say, “This is stupid.”

He gives you a bewildered look, unsure what exactly you mean by that.

You steel your courage and press on. “I like you. And you like me. I think. And all this pretending that we don’t is stupid.”

After a few moments, his lips curve into a smile, the mischievous one you used to hate but now feel relief seeing. He can’t help the joy building in his chest at your confession. How many sleepless nights thinking about this very moment did he endure?

“You said it,” he teases.

Despite giving him a look, you do nothing to stop the grin rising to your lips. “Well, it didn’t seem like you were going to.”

His smile only widens, and he motions you into the room. “Get yer butt over here already.”

You move on instinct, striding into the room and climbing into his lap, settling your legs on either side of his you wrap your arms around his neck. The overwhelming sense that yes—this is exactly where you want to be, washes over you. He smirks up at you, his large hands resting at your waist, waiting for your next move.

“I can’t believe I actually missed that stupid smirk,” you say, lowering your lips to his, fingers slipping into the short hair at the base of his neck.

His smile hasn’t faltered, muttering against your lips teasing, “Does this mean I can shower at night again?”

A laugh bubbles out of you, but he smothers it in another kiss and refuses to let go.

#miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenario #miya atsumu reader insert #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

Text

I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #2

Because I don’t love myself enough, I guess. Let’s continue.

Recap in case you missed the first part: it’s boring, Jared acts like he stumbled on the set and never heard about it before, Texan law enforcement must wear very pristine shirts and cowboy hats or they will die, I guess, the cinematography wants to be good but I’m not sure it knows how to do it.

The last thing I mentioned in the first post was Jared doing a thing with his mouth but I think you need to see it. It’s basically the extent of Jared’s acting in this show. I had nothing against you, man, I swear. I even got your autograph once. I’m not a hater. I’m just looking at him...

THE TITLE CARD! I had paused the episode riiight before the title card. You have to witness it in all its embarrassing glory

Whose idea was it??

Some shots of the city of Austin. Walker and Martinez (Mexican Lady Cop) are having lunch. She says she’s heard about him, he asks what she’s learnt, she says, I textuallty quote, “I hear you are the edge of the coin”. Again, we are not allowed to have any kind of slight metaphor without the dialogue slapping us in the face with it.

“Not head or tail, just... your way” Jared didn’t even come up with the metaphor in that interview, it was in the script. Unless he came up with that line, which isn’t even a good line.

She basically tells him not to get in the way of her career. Being a Mexican-American cop is hard! Such deep commentary.

They start discussing the case, which I had already forgotten about. The cop who was slightly assaulted and won’t talk about it. “Maybe whatever was in that truck spooked him enough to abandon his oath” maybe it was a monster. god I wish it was a monster so that’d mean I’m watching Supernatural and Jensen is in it. The “oath” thing is kinda icky, like they want to remind us that being a cop is a noble path. It is in some places under some conditions. But we’re talking about Generic American conditions.

He’s like “let’s use the traffic cams to see if we can see something” and he slips right into his Sam tone. Admittedly that’s a Sam kind of thing to say.

It was day, and now it’s night. Walker house. He arrives when his family have already started dinner. Except the daughter isn’t there, she’s out with a friend. “Isabel, some Mexican girl” Walker’s father calls the friend. “Mexican American, dad” the gay brother corrects him, a deep and interesting commentary on ethnicity in the United States, we’re weeping with emotion.

Walker apparently isn’t happy that his mother has enrolled his daughter in a Catholic school, his father snaps back at him. We don’t care. We’re not emotionally invested in any of this.

There’s some awkward dialogue because he mentions the daughter playing basketball, but she’s switched to soccer. Wow, it’s like she’s become an entirely different person in those eleven months he was undercover! Can you believe? Apparently she used to play soccer before, she’s come back to it. Whoa. She’s an utterly unrecognizable person now, it’s going to be so hard for Walker to get to know her again from scratch. Can you believe?

Then he gets a call. He needs to pick up the daughter from the police station. He does some Jared awkward faces and leaves.

The daughter (Stella) was at a party and was arrested for possession. I miss when possession meant demonic possession. Dramatic music plays. She’s there with the Mexican American friend, whose parents arrive and he starts a speech on how they should get to know each other better. It is so not the right context to start making friends. “Epic first meeting” Isabel says. “I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing” Stella says. “For who?” Walker quips, like a normal person does.

He’s like, let’s go, and the girls hug, which is the only believable expression of affection I’ve seen so far in the episode. Can’t the story be about Stella and Isabel?

Father-daughter conversation in the truck. Apparently we have emotional moments in cars, which we have never seen on television before.

He asks what she was thinking, she’s like, duh what do people use drugs for. She calls him out for disappearing completely. She mentions how it was bad enough that they didn’t have mom. He says “we both got to stop acting like she’s gonna come back and put us right” which makes absolutely zero sense. It’s like someone wrote it on a note for how to develop the characters and they just decided to slap it into the script of the pilot. Remember these people haven’t seen each other for eleven months, he left shortly after his wife died. They didn’t have the time to process the grief together, why is he even saying that line here?

Meanwhile Martinez get home and we meet her boyfriend, a very cute Black man. They’re cute. Why can’t the story be about them?

He asks her about Walker, she says he’s a mess. Oh god. She says he was a Marine, “signed after 9/11”. Holy shit. He’s a Marine who signed up after asdfghjkl can’t you feel the Manly Trauma here????

He’s a Marine who signed up to fight Muslims after 9/11 and now has a dead wife, he’s exactly the kind of male lead character we need right now.

She says she’s trying to figure him out. Her boyfriend is like “dude stop thinking about that guy, he’s not at home trying to figure you out” and she replies “oh I’m pretty sure he thinks he knows everything about me already”.

This is the first scene that hasn’t felt bad so far.

Meanwhile Jared and his brother go to a bar. It’s very ~Texas Aesthetic~, and they’re wearing cowboy hats, of course. You are not allowed to go to a bar without a cowboy hat in Texas. “The brothers Walker” the flannel-shirt-clad bartender says, coming with drinks. Jensen Ackles makes a face somewhere in the mountains.

The brother goes to call his partner and the bartender starts chatting with Walker. She has a conversation with Jared’s awkward faces and she’s like, I guess you left because I couldn’t answer your questions about what happened yo your wife. This is how people converse in real life.

She asks him if he’s alright and he doesn’t answer, instead is like “let’s have a dance”. He doesn’t say he’s fine, but I think it still counts as a I’m Fine Lie Moment #2 because that’s what it is in spirit.

I know you’re bored, I’m bored.

They dance in the Texan bar, I’m distracted by the pool tables and wish this was Supernatural so we’d see Jensen Ackles play pool.

Obviously the dance is interrupted by work - a text from Ramirez who says she’s got something, “office 8am?” so he leaves because he has to wake up early. I’m not kidding.

I was kind of warmed over by Ramirez and her cute boyfriend and by the bar who was kind of nice as a location, when the next scene at the office immediately starts with Ramirez saying “My mom wouldn’t let me play with dolls when I was a kid, so Iearned about cars instead”. I die a little inside. It’s the second time she’s referred to her mother wanting a son...? So she’s badass because she wasn’t raised to be feminine...? Ew.

So they have this lead thanks to her knowledge of cars. They go investigate. I’m bored.

I shouldn’t have said I was bored, because Walker destroys my boredom by having Jared pick up a cross and start talking to “JC” sarcastically asking him for guidance about his kids going to the Catholic school. “Can you stop” Ramirez says, along with all of us.

By the way they’re in a workshop run by an ex-convict who employs former criminals to make figurines (like that cross). I got a bad feeling about this. Former criminal in cop shows is always code for current criminal.

The investigation leads to two guys who work in the store - “oh I know you,” one immediately says when he spots Walker, “you’re the ranger with the dead wife”. Walker is like, what did you say. And the guy is like oh I heard the story of a ranger’s wife biting a bullet near the border, guess you couldn’t protect her uh~~~

They exchange more provocations - Walker calls him some lowlife something and the guy goes to punch him and Walker beats him up. Violently. I’m uncomfortable. We’re supposed to think he’s exaggerating here but... he does get very violent and should not be a cop. Period.

They go to Ramirez’ house because he cut his hand. Her boyfriend is like “baby there’s a dude bleeding on your couch” I want a season of him, exclusively him.

She scolds Walker. Not because he beat up a guy with more force than needed, but because he acted stupid and that’s bad for her career. I’m uncomfortable.

Also, what’s bad is that they’re supposed to work *together*. He says he has his own way of doing things. Yikes yikes yikes.

She says that her theory is that they put them together because he always break the rules. Apparently she read up his cases and he always break the rules. The main character of the show is a cop who break the rules in half the cases he works. Yikes yikes yikes but also did I mention yikes?

No, wait, he acknowledges that he “bends” the rules, like that’s better! Yikes!

More bad dialogue, then Stella’s school calls him. She hasn’t been at school.

He goes to ask Isabel’s mother, who reveals they haven’t their papers yet, so any criminal activity would mean deportation. He talks about it with Ramirez and mentions that his brother who’s a DA could get in contact with the Feds to speed up the papers. Are we supposed to be like “oh what a good guy”? The thing is just creepy to me.

Well, at least Ramirez says something about it, or actually quotes her mother who used to say that the law doesn’t protect us. That’s why she ~burned bridges~ with her family! Apparently because she became a cop.

Ow. Her mother is not speaking to her because for her, her daughter being a cop is like a betrayal. But for her it’s a way to set things right! We’re supposed to think her mother is exaggerated. #notallcops #individualgoodcopscanchangethesystemfromtheinsideforsuredefinitely

Meanwhile their investigation continues. Remember the cross Walker randomly picked up to mock the concept of Jesus? Ramirez stole it. And now they find out there’s heroin in it. Alright... obviously the business that was supposed to rehabilitate former criminals is a cover for cartel drug dealing. What were we expecting. I’m tired.

Ramirez decides to work the case alone and sends Walker to look for his daughter. “I was that kid once, I always wanted to be found”. The impression you get from the scene is that Walker had forgotten about his daughter missing lol. Ramirez insists he goes. I’m uncomfortable with how many times people put on cowboy hats. Someone should count. We’re only 30 minutes in and it feels like it’s happened 80 times.

Alright, a break now! My laptop’s ventilation is running like crazy, VLC and long tumblr drafts are a bad combination. Or maybe it’s just my laptop being allergic to this show.

#cw's jared: legit texan #marghe watches walker for some darned reason

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little-lemon-lattes · 3 years

Text

The Scheme

🌛Zelda Spellman x fem! reader

—Word count: 1.9k

— Triggers: Mention of murder and burning in a non-violent context

— Summary: We have part 2 to The Set Up! You and Zelda spend a blissful day together since kissing the night before, and make the most of being together before the mortuary fills with life- and typical Spellman scheming- again!

You were on Cloud-fucking-9.

The previous evening, you and Zelda had kissed. It had been truly extraordinary, even better than the few times you had allowed your mind to indulge in that kind of imagery concerning her. You had never felt that good with anyone before; well, minding that you had neither felt for anyone like that of which you had been trying to cover for the astonishing woman.

She currently lay in the grass next to you, cheek resting tentatively on your belly, as you both just watched each other in comfortable silence. Gosh, kissing Zelda had felt SO good that it had been hard to stop at just one. Like now. Her stunningly bright and beautiful green eyes were boring into yours, but you really couldn’t tell if she was trying to send you a signal or was just unwittingly that gorgeous on the daily. Probably the latter. You also had to remind yourself that, EVEN though you two already lived under the same roof, you would take things one step at a time together. The last 24 hours with Zelda had been like a dream, and the Spellman mortuary had a new air to it now that you knew where you stood.

That morning, you had woken just before dawn (which was much earlier than you preferred), likely still on a high from the feel of Zelda’s lips. Rather than lay there attempting to force yourself back to sleep, you rose from your pillow. Perhaps it was your always-lingering insecurity pulling some strings, but it suddenly seemed desperately important to you- then and there at 4:56am- that you find a way of proving to Zelda that she hadn’t made the wrong choice opening up to you the night before. Just one more bonus of Hilda’s disappearance that weekend being that the kitchen was inevitably free, within a few minutes you had decided to make a spot of breakfast to share. You would never admit it out loud, but you were also buzzing to showcase your culinary ability; of which had been somewhat hindered by the unspoken acknowledgement that Hilda was the kitchen witch of the house.

With that, you were out of bed and clothed in a black turtleneck and mom jeans, as you put the finishing touches on a French braid: all by 5:15. THe next two hours flew by as you whipped up black coffee, almond cake, black sausage, eggs, salmon, bagels, mushroom, and tomato. You were just laying out bloody-fleshed plums and yoghurt when you heard gentle footsteps on the landing above you. Smiling softly, you stopped to admire as the woman padded down the stairs, wrapped in a silky black robe and wiping bits of sleep from her eyes. She stopped dead as she spotted the food on the table, hand still raised to her eye.

“Surprise...?” you peeped.

Zelda’s hand flopped to her side as she tilted her head adorably, treating you to a giddy smile. And you were hopeless to try not to smile right back. That there was enough to have made the last two hours worth it. “

“What’s all this, y/n?”

“I, uh... breakfast?”

Zelda couldn’t help smiling a little more at the cute way you had made it seem like a question. “I see that,” she laughed, “but why?”

You forced an expression of mock pain onto your face.

“I am hurt, Spellman, hurt! Does there have to be a reason?”

All she did was raise her eyebrows in disbelief. You supposed it was probably best to build any chance you had together on honesty.

“Okay, FINE. I just... wanted to show you that last night wasn’t a mistake, in case you were having any doubts.”

Zelda trotted, cat-like, down from her post against the railing, and came to rest just half a metre in front of you.

“Why, there was absolutely nothing of the sort. I hardly slept a wink all night; your lips have something of a memorable feel to them, if I am honest.”

And this time, it was her that closed the space between you, snaking her arms around your waist to pull you closer. One long peck later, the bubblegum-pink shade of your cheeks matched hers in perfect unison, as if in competition.

Breakfast was sweet and long, spent thigh to thigh next to each other, chatting about all the things you had been too afraid to ask each other until that point.

The rest of the day was passed laying next to one another in the winter sunshine, beneath an age-old willow tree. After what felt like just minutes since you had arrived (but had really been hours), you pointed to the sky with the hand that wasn’t clasping Zelda’s.

“Look, the sun!”

You received a lazy “hmmm” in response. Twisting to face her on your left, you couldn’t fight your sigh of content. The High Priestess was laying with her eyes closed in utter bliss, the final rays of Sunday’s sunshine dancing across those glorious lashes.

“It’s setting, Zelda. Everyone will be back soon.” you murmured to her. It was as if you had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Cloud 9 disappeared with the snapping open of her eyes. The soft expression that had occupied her visage all day visibly hardened into her more familiar, stoic one. She leapt to her feet, snatching up the open novel beside her and swinging out her hand to you with force. Time and Space closed in around you the moment you took it, and, the next thing you knew, the two of you were outside the mortuary once more.

You turned to her sharply.

“What was that about?” you demanded. Standing silent for a moment, Zelda’s ears visibly pricked. After a few more moments, she seemed appeased, and swivelled to you. Her shoulders were tense, and you took note of her fingernails digging into her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just... I am enthused about where you and I are headed, y/n, and I’m terrified that others may not share my enthusiasm. I want to enjoy things as they are at present for a while longer, before having to think about who needs to be involved in our business.”

It was understandable, you supposed, and admittedly: there was a certain appeal to keeping things 007-style, like that fantastic mortal film. You relaxed a bit, and instantly felt awful for raising your voice at her.

You reached for the woman’s shoulder.

“You’re right, Zelds. I understand.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You have every right to want to murder me right now, if you so wished. Although, only if you were to bury me in the Cain pit...” she added as an afterthought.

You had to giggle at that one.

“You’re safe for now, Zelda,” you teased, “now, come on! I need to find a good hiding spot for scaring the BANSHEES out of them when they get back!”

Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose literally stomped their feet in sheer disappointment when they arrived back at the house and hadn’t caught the pair of you locked in some form of intimate embrace.

“Aw man! What will I tell my friends?! I had Roz totally excited about y/n finally getting some action... Like, she seriously admitted that she had this big crush on her when she first met her; whiiiiich definitely earned a few looks from Harvey, to say the least. The take-away from it all is that we now know exactly how fragile that guy’s ego is, YIKES, is all I can say.”

All the while, Ambrose was muttering a consistent string of “fuck”s under his breath, and Hilda was deciding whether to scald Sabrina’s ass to Hades and back.

“Sabrina!” her aunt admonished in disbelief, “how could you be so careless?! If any of this gets back to your aunt Zelda, we should consider ourselves excommunicated from her presence for good!”

All of them fought a cringe. Sabrina looked a bit sheepish.

Hilda turned to Ambrose.

“And what about you, mister? What’s with the constant profanities?”

Ambrose took a step back from his aunt, nobody was sure whether consciously or not. “Erm...hm. Yes. Well. I-” his sputtering was resembling a car trying to start up. Ambrose’s eyes suddenly seemed unable to reach past the witches’ knees.

“-um. Damn. Hecate, yes, I have... just lost a particularly large sum of money to one Dorian Gray.”

Hilda’s eyes were ready to pop out of her head. “I was so unequivocally certain that our plan would work! Now where I am supposed to come up with $1000?!”

He was a little manic. The only one of the three who seemed somewhat happy about Ambrose’s situation was Sabrina, sticking a finger at him. “HA! Now that makes what I did so much better!”

Her plum-coloured lips parted with glee, and without warning, her and her travel bag had disappeared. Ambrose made a furious mental note to pour formaldehyde in her evening tea for leaving him here alone. When he had finally built up the courage to look his otherwise cheery aunt in the eyes again, a flash of fear struck him at the murderous look in hers. A low growl exited her throat.

“Well,” she snapped, “I suppose there will be no more silly little attempts on our part to play Cupid.”

As quickly as it had started, her anger dissipated, and was replaced by a certain sadness. Her mouth raised just a fraction, into a tired little smile.

“ ’just thought that Zelds could do with something nice for once. We failed. It didn’t work.”

With that, she picked up her carpet bag and shuffled off up the stairs. Ambrose watched her go, now a lone silhouette in the entrance of their home.

Or so he thought. You waited until Ambrose had moodily trudged down to the embalming room before emerging from your spot in the broom closet. Sniffling a little from all the dust- those things hadn’t been flown for years, SO old fashioned- you felt a mix of emotion at what you had just heard. You hadn’t intended on becoming an audience to some type of scheme, and especially not one of which involved you.

At first, there was embarrassment. You hadn’t realised that your feelings were apparently so obvious! Paired with the fact that Zelda’s must have been too in order to warrant such a matchmaking scheme; along with that you had truly thought that you had done a superb job at keeping it all under wraps, you were left feeling a bit stupid. But then came the funny side of it all, imagining Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina sneaking about like the Pink Panther and holding secret meetings about your love life. And finally came the warmth, the realisation of exactly how much the Spellmans had grown to care for you- so much that they trusted you to love Zelda as much as they did.

The whole situation was entirely too much of an opportunity to just leave alone. Grinning with total delight and schemes cooking of your own, you rematerialised in Zelda’s study at the Academy. The loud CRACK that accompanied that particular piece of magic made the woman flinch. Her brow crinkled at the sight of you in front of her great oaken desk. She was a little taken aback, and (it delighted you even more) flustered to see you there.

“Y/n?”

“Zelda. I NEED to tell you what I just heard!”

A game was now afoot.

And your opponents weren’t finished yet either.

#zelda spellman #zelda spellman x reader #caos #Sabrina #lgbt #fanfic #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #miranda otto #caos imagine #wlw #caos fanfiction #your pov

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slutty-spider-talk · 2 years

Note

Hey Angel (and Mod) can I get some advice?

I have a long term girlfriend and I love her more than anything. She's my whole world. I'll call her Sun.

I also have a long term friend. I'll call her Mary.

Mary doesn't trust my girlfriend. She expressed to me she thinks my girlfriend is only trying to seduce me and said some other disrespectful things.

I told Sun what Mary said, and I was fuming. Sun reminded me that Mary was raised completely differently because she's from a homophobic country (I'm the first gay person she ever even got to meet) and she's Catholic. Sun asked me not to throw away a long time friendship over her, and to try to sympathize with her. I would have dropped Mary right then had Sun not asked me not to.

And I tried. I waited months before even speaking to Mary again because I was so angry. When I did, I offered to take her shopping. But I was just mad the whole time. I feel like I can't stand my friend anymore. I admitted this later to my girlfriend, and honestly she seemed relieved. I think she was really hurt by what Mary said, but was more concerned with me having friends than her being hurt.

I don't know what to do now. Sun wants me to have friends and Mary wants to see me more but I just feel stuck because my loyalties always lie with my girlfriend first.

...Yikes that is a problem. Imma be honest with ya, you may not have a good outcome here.

I can get your girlfriend not wantin' ya to break the friendship but I'm gonna be honest no matter how much she says 'I'm ok, It's ok' it really isn't and she's gonna have a breakin' point. Your friend also needs to understand while it's ok to have worries and dislikes unless she has valid points or red flags that maybe you don't see cause of rose shade glasses she's gonna need to back off. I think the best thing you can do is just be honest here.

Tell your girlfriend your feelings on your friend changed and not because of her but how you feel, talk to her about it so she can understand. Then talk to your friend, tell her these things changed in the friendship and right now ya need some space. Might only hang out once in awhile, or maybe it's the end of the line. I'm sure there's other things pushin' your friend away that maybe you repressed? I think ya need to sit down and sort out everythin' with yourself and your feelin's and compose it before you talk cause it ain't gonna be an easy thing to talk about, but it's gonna hopefully be better once it's out in the open. Who knows maybe Mary will listen to what's buggin' ya about her and work on it.

#hazbin hotel rp #hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel ask #hazbin hotel roleplay

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

Ashes Chapter 4: Stars

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Is this progress? You two talk and you don't want to murder each other. Probably progress. Probably. Something fishy is definitely going on.

A/N: Hope you are all doing well! This is more fluffy angst than it is angry angst. But I mean, just wait until the next chapter. I'll make up for it! Hahaha.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

“You forgot your tea.” The woman called to you, and you turned and offered a forced smile that fell quickly. You were handed your teacup and turned to look through the trees. Liu Kang had disappeared within them.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, dear.” The woman sipped her tea next to you. You had to get to work but your heart was heavy. “Trouble in paradise?”

You choked on your tea.

“Oh?” You cleared your throat and tilted your head inquisitively. The woman gestured to where Liu Kang had disappeared but had a knowing smile on her face. “Oh, no. No, no, no we aren’t… I… just no. He’s having a hard day is all. A hard week.” The woman seemed genuinely surprised.

“I’m sorry for assuming but I sensed that your spirits were intertwined. It was a natural assumption to guess that the two of you were together.”

Oh, good.

“We used to be close.” You felt suddenly exhausted and as if you could cry. The bag on your back was heavy with the weight of Kung Lao and your heart was heavy with the pain of Liu Kang. “I’m sorry for this. He just lost his brother and it’s been difficult. He’s not usually like this. I promise. He’s a good man.”

“Grief is one of the most difficult hardships we deal with. I understand. And I sense that the journey ahead of him will not be an easy one.”

“Yeah. He’s not alone though. I’ll make sure he’s okay.” You would. Even if he did nothing but yell and push, you would at least make sure he was okay. Attraction or not, it was the least you could do. Kung Lao would have wanted you to.

“You must be careful too. I sense great loss around you and great conflict ahead of you.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

“Oh?”

“I was dating his brother.”

“Ah, that explains at least part of it.” The woman placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You stood there for a time. You blinked back tears and hoped they went unnoticed but this woman seemed wise and observant. She reminded you of a nicer and less godly Raiden. “It’s a difficult three-day hike through the mountains to reach Nightwolf.” The woman walked before you and offered you a folded-up map and a small coin-sized wolf charm. She cupped her hands around yours. “You will need this to prove that you are worthy to see him.”

“Are you sure? I… I’m happy to explain to you what we’re doing here.” You were surprised. You didn’t know what unspoken trial you’d passed but you were grateful to have passed it. At least one thing was going right.

“No need. I can sense a great many things, dear, and you, without question, are worthy to seek out Nightwolf. Your soul burns radiantly despite the shadow hanging over it.”

You stuttered because you didn’t know what that meant. “Thank you. I’m… we’re grateful.”

“We will provide you both with anything you might need for your trip. When you find Nightwolf then show him this charm. He will know that you are worthy of being seen. I hope that whatever it is you are seeking from him he can provide.”

“Thank you. I really can’t express how grateful I am.”

“You don’t have to, dear. I can tell.” The woman’s voice was soft. “Follow me.” You did as you were asked and followed the woman through the village. A small cabin had been setup for you and Liu. It was quaint but there were two beds and enough space for you to rest for the night out of the elements. That was all you needed and more than you deserved, you thought. You stayed in the cabin after the woman bid you farewell and good luck. You hadn’t even introduced yourselves but your meeting had still been profound.

For some time after, you sat on the bed and held your bag, wondering what to do. Your heart was heavy and so you meditated and prayed for Liu Kang to find peace and for Kung Lao to forgive you. The last one was selfish, but you felt incredibly guilty and there was no easing it. He would have eased your guilt.

Sleep wasn’t coming. You were too worried about Liu getting himself lost in the woods in his anger.

You had no right to worry about him. He’d gotten by plenty fine without you his whole life. You shouldn’t have worried so much but you couldn’t help it. It was natural to fixate on the few things you had control of when the rest of it was so wildly out of your hands.

You left the cabin. Night had fallen and there were only a handful of other people outside. You wrapped the blanket you’d bought around your shoulders and walked around the village until you found a clearing in the trees where you could sit and watch the stars. The sky was beautiful. So many of the lights in the sky reminded you of home but they were also so different. It took you awhile to find your favorite constellations which distracted you for a time.

You felt him before you heard him. The fiery spirit of Liu Kang. He sat next to you. You’d always been able to sense him. Earlier, he’d been bright with rage and now he was a dull roar but by no means at peace. He said nothing but sat watching the stars next to you. You’d done this before years in the past. Sat on dangerous ledges and watched the sky in silence.

It had been comforting then. It was less so now. He put you on edge. Between nerves and attraction, your brain had no idea how to process him anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He broke the silence, and you turned your eyes away from the stars but not toward him. “I apologized to everyone I was rude to, but I figured that I would save the most important apology I had to make for last.” You could hear a smile on his face but also felt how weary he was. Carrying that kind of anger and guilt took a toll. You would know.

“It’s okay.” You had forgiven him hours ago. Honestly, you’d mostly been worried for him. “Believe it or not, I get it.”

“Do you?”

You locked eyes with him and then turned away as you felt the nerves rise in your throat again. He hadn’t made you this nervous in years and there were a thousand reasons why. “Yeah. I go through moments where the world is too much noise and things seem impossibly frustrating. Moments where I can’t avoid being angry no matter how much I don’t want to be.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turned your eyes back to the stars, but it was hard to think about him losing control like that. It hurt to think about yourself like that too. He scooted a little closer to you and his knee touched just against yours. There had been nights where you’d sat with him after fighting with Kung Lao and he’d held your hand. And briefly, you felt that comfort and that spark that he always ignited, but you stomped it out quickly.

“I miss my brother. And I miss you.” He sighed as if it annoyed him to say. “But being around you makes it more real.” You had a feeling. He had the same effect on you.

“I’m sorry.” You managed to whisper but you thought your voice sounded rather pathetic, broken and as though you were desperate to get the words out without tears.

“It’s not your fault. I need to stop acting like it is. You don’t seem to blame me.”

“I miss him too. And I miss you. I miss a lot of things.” You sniffled away the upset that had come with realizing just how much harder you made it on Liu Kang. Sleeping with him had certainly not helped either. Maybe it had provided temporary relief, but it had definitely worked a lot of old hurt feelings into the mix that you hadn’t needed. “It doesn’t feel real sometimes. I brought his little jade thing with me as a reminder. So I won’t keep expecting to find him waiting for me when we get back.”

“Y/N?” Liu turned to face you. “If he were alive then it wouldn’t be me on this journey with you. It would be him.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” He was and you knew it. You hadn’t been on a trip with Liu Kang alone since before you’d started dating Kung Lao. “He’d never liked the idea of me going on trips with you alone. Always insisted on coming with us or replacing you when Raiden suggested it.”

“Oh?” Liu seemed genuinely surprised and you turned to face him.

“Yeah. I asked him why once and he never gave me a straight answer. You know how he was with that kind of stuff. It was like pulling teeth.” You missed your bag. It had become a security blanket in Liu Kang’s presence. “Now I’ll never know the reason. There’s so many things that I’ll never know.” You pulled the blanket a little tighter. Liu Kang was deep in thought and just staring at you and so you let him and avoided his eyes.

“Did you ever tell him?” He was hesitant to ask. Probably afraid you’d flee again. You snapped your gaze up to his in surprise. “About before you two were together.”

“What? No! No, god no.” You laughed awkwardly. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble between the two of you. He could be kind of jealous sometimes.” You liked those memories. It had never been a bad kind of jealousy. It had been cute and he’d always denied until after you’d fought about it and wound up rolling around together in bed. “Did you tell him?”

“I almost did once, but no. We’d been arguing and I almost let it out just to spite him.”

You inhaled sharply. That would have been a mess. “Yikes. Do you remember what you’d been fighting about?”

“It was something stupid. I don’t remember.” Liu averted his eyes. Was it something stupid? Or did he not remember? He was lying but you wouldn’t argue with him. You were in no place to push each other’s boundaries right now. This was the first real civil conversation you’d had while sober since Kung Lao died. “I just remember thinking about the trouble it would have caused you, so I held my tongue.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I knew you would.”

“Liu?” You wanted to apologize, and your gaze caught the scrape on his arm, left untended.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N.” He inhaled sharply as you touched the scrape, far more than he should have for such a small wound, as if your touch burned him.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Not ready to talk about that. Still… processing.” At least he hadn’t snapped at you. You lifted his arm and he scooted closer as if eager for your touch. “It’s fine. Didn’t even break the skin really.”

“Thank you for helping me back there.”

“I promised him that I would keep you safe.” He assured you and you rolled your eyes at him. He laughed which was short lived but also a wonderful sound. You had never needed him or Kung Lao to keep you safe. It had never stopped them from wanting to do just that. You would let him. If it made him feel better, then that was what mattered.

“That woman gave me directions and a charm to present to Nightwolf. We can leave in the morning but it’s a long hike. Three days, she said. We should rest.”

“I don’t think I can. I’m going to stay outside a bit longer.” Liu gestured to the stars. You’d both found peace in the sky in the past, both separately and together. Some things never changed, you guessed. You stood up and made to leave him on his own. He didn’t want you there and you knew that. So you would go back to the bed and to what little you had left of Kung Lao.

“Goodnight, Liu Kang.” You bowed politely but were surprised when he grabbed your hand. His thumb carefully brushed over the back of your knuckles. Your throat suddenly felt too full to talk. This was familiar. More familiar than it should have been. He’d stopped you that night too. He’d asked you to stay a bit longer with him. You had been drunk but had melted just the same and you were melting now.

“Don’t go just yet, Y/N.” He didn’t look up at you but he held your hand firmly. You considered that it was maybe a bad idea but sat down with him again anyway. He let go of your hand and then you sat side by side and watched the stars in silence. It wasn’t awkward, finally. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t keep your eyes open and had fallen asleep sitting up.

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