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shadesoflsk · 3 months

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MILLION DOLLAR BLOODLINE — Adam & Eve

A political candidate has been found dead and a well known agent is working alongside you. Check my million dollar bloodline masterlist for general warnings.

Chapter 1

pairing: Vampire/Agent Leon x Fem Detective reader

warnings: Rivals to lovers (Kinda one sided at first because reader doesn't get along with men) misogyny, sexism (from the press) gore, violence, death, suicide, blood, mentions of kidnapping and experimentations, fucked up government.

author's note: Hi! So, this took me longer than I expected lol. I had to delete and redo so many parts but at last I'm comfortable with the result. This is basically an introduction to both characters hence the name I gave to this chapter. I hope you guys like it.

Blinded by the constant flashes of cameras, numerous police officers make their way out of the tumultuousness of journalists and reporters who have gathered —in the name of informing— to be the first ones to publish headlines that will surely raise more commotion in the already horror-stuck citizens.

Thank God the scene of the crime is away from those prying eyes that won’t hesitate to snap a picture or two just for the sake of popularity or being contacted by those trashy and shitty newspapers that fall into the sensationalism homicides and crimes attract.

The eighties are certainly… one of a hell decade to live in. Exuberant neon lights and flashy outfits weren’t enough to silence the crimes that were occurring each day in a city led by white-collared dicks who are ‘better than anyone else.’ The citizens’ words, not yours.

It was easy to despise everyone right now. From those politicians who share their condolences but deep down they have the same fucked up ideal and sentiment—they were happy their enemies keep dying. To the obtuse and short-sighted journalists who kept asking the same questions.

Not even your disdain and witty answers could push them away to the hell hole they came from. Catchy and well-sold tabloids were their objectives and you were the perfect subject to them. A woman in the eighties being the leader of a politic-related case? Oh God, the newspaper loves dragging down women.

Misogynistic terms were chanted even more than the national damn anthem. “God, spare us from a woman leading this case!” “Is this a new gold digger searching for a politician that isn’t dead?” Those were the most ‘tame’ titles they could come up with. However, rumor has it that directors and journalists love calling you names. Ultimately, those whispers die down as soon as the window from your Porsche 959 rolls down and the flashes of cameras turn your way.

“Ma’am we received news that the body you found was in fact, Mr. Clark. Our Major Candidate. Is there any clue this time?” The young journalist asked you. He was definitely a rookie, that ma’am that fell so easily from his lips, and his stance gave it away. Maybe you could be softer with him, aggressiveness was starting to wear you off.

You take out your sunglasses, the snaps of the pictures get harder to bear but for once, you try holding eye contact with this said journalist. In his gaze, you admire his inexperience and eagerness to get something out of this conversation.

Sadly, there’s nothing to offer from a lifeless body and a pool of blood that could flood the entire apartment of the deceased.

“It’s still unknown. We shall wait for the forensic team to provide us with the results of the autopsy.” Your voice is uninterested, an automatic reaction each time a question is asked.

“So… The police department is once again showing signs of inability to complete a case?”

Fuck them all. All of them.

A few hours ago, you had received a call which informed you about the disappearance of a candidate, a major candidate. Of course, a crime would occur when the elections were just around the corner. A perfect scenario to bring the already most famous and glamorized case in the decade more mystery and gore.

A disappearance meant a homicide, it would take just minutes before you were notified that a body had been found.

And you were right.

Eventually, a coworker of yours informed you—with an annoyed expression on their face— that a drained body was found in an apartment.

Working on two cases simultaneously was definitely tiring, and it was starting to show on your face. On one hand, multiple crimes are occurring in Raccoon City, all of them involving people from high society: CEOs, ex-presidents, and candidates. Idle good-for-nothing people who can wipe their asses with a one hundred dollar bill, to put it simply.

Difficult to deal with was an understatement. Everyone at the police station knew one thing though— someone important is leaking information. This said individual doesn’t want to get their hands dirty with blood. Acting like a vendetta, in the darkness, they are cleaning the government in a way.

However, the catch of this case was rather sui generis—not even decipherable. Corruption was the root of all problems and it even showed in various scenes of the crime. Politicians were found dead in certain ways that didn’t match up with their own lifestyles. Suicides, disappearances, homicides without a murder weapon. Someone important must be behind all of this and those victims were merely their pawns.

And on the other hand, a case that seems to get more sinister and fucked up was brimming in the shadows. One that also involved those who justice can’t reach. Besides politicians disappearing, numerous citizens were also missing without a trace. Families were left alone without their breadwinning fathers, without their nurturing mothers, and especially without their loved ones.

The government’s reputation was unmistakable, they didn’t care. Protests were organized without any response or reassurance that a solution would be provided. And then again, the damnation and torment of those who searched through hell and earth was once again brought to them.

Without further ado, you walked out of the police department and embarked on the fantastic journey of seeing another dead body. Not the best sight to see after having your lunch but if you don't go, no one else will.

You arrived at the scene of the crime and luckily, you didn’t run into any reporters, word hadn’t reached them yet. You showed your ID to the cops that surround the apartment complex, they let you in.

The excruciating silence as you wait in the elevator was always agonizing. It allowed your mind to create the most gut wrenching scenarios. You’re a veteran at this point, you have seen 10 dead politicians over the course of the months. However, it doesn’t get any easier.

The first thing that welcomed you as the door of the elevators opened again was the metallic smell of blood. With a deep breath, you fixed your hair and expected the worst.

“Good morning everyone.” Your voice rang through the living room of the apartment. There was no trace of violence or self defense, but the rancid reek continued filling your nostrils. Nonetheless, the authority in your voice never faltered, you simply didn’t allow it.

Acting tough was the norm and giving no shit about anyone was the rule that followed. It’s always been like that. You can’t crack jokes or show a smile just like your male superiors can. Bullshit, you thought. People love saying that the 80s are the best, but everyone is fucking misogynistic.

When you saw that your team had your attention, you proceeded. “Where’s the body?”

“Inside.” A cop said. He was a veteran, the wrinkles forming around his eyes and the one-word phrase told you as much. “There’s a federal agent there, though.”

A federal agent?

It was a matter of time before the government decided to send one of its people. They should have after the first one. But as you already know, they’re scavengers, they don’t give a damn about the country nor themselves. If the death of a candidate could bring more votes to another party, they would close their eyes for the sake of it.

“Anything I may know before going inside?” You ask.

“Nothing much. The state of the body is the same as the ones we have found before.” The dull and repetitive tone of his voice was proof of how everyone was getting frustrated with this case. “Although this one really looks like a suicide.”

Interesting, a politician who actually killed himself instead of being killed.

“Thank you.” Your legs worked on their own and strode off to where the body was. The main bedroom. For a moment, you hesitated to turn the knob around. Your eyes were fixated on your red nails —the same color you’re expected to see once you enter the room.

And you were right, your gaze which was now looking at the floor only witnessed the ruby red color that painted the rug. And, as your eyes traveled, you observed the man who was lying lifeless on the floor.

Your eyes then stopped when you noticed the man who had his back facing you. 5'10 inches with dirty blond hair, black leather jacket that hugged his figure just right. Undoubtedly, the build of an agent yet you couldn’t care less about his appearance right now.

Clearing your throat, you made your presence known. Even though a part of you believed that this man must have heard you as soon as you entered the scene of the crime.

He turned around and you could see the solemn expression that soon turned into a polite smile. So, the blue-eyed male that was in front of you was the federal agent the government has sent? Interesting.

“Hello. You may be the leading detective of this case, right?” There is no accent in his voice nor a belittling hint in his speech. You were used to being questioned about your position or straight up told not to waste time before you could even identify yourself.

“Indeed.” You nodded before stepping closer and showing him your badge which had your name and occupation there. There’s a moment of silence before Leon speaks again, with a faint smile on his lips.

“Kennedy. Leon Kennedy.” He stated his name, a muffled chuckle leaving after his phrase.

At first, you remained expressionless, not expecting this stoic ‘professional’ to introduce himself in a rather comical way. Not when there’s a dead body lying at his feet.

“What are you? James Bond?” You were genuinely dumbfounded.

“Do I look the part?” He had a hand on his hip, casually standing in front of you. If audacity and lack of decorum had a name, it would have Leon written at the top of a dictionary. “I'd call myself hilarious, though.”

“Kinda goofy, I'd say.” You retorted, walking past him and looking through your pockets to pull out a pair of gloves, the sound of latex being stretched followed your answer. This part was always the hardest, even when the body has been already inspected by the team of criminalists, you ought to re-check.

“Let's keep it at funny.” His eyes darted to where your figure was, the scent of your perfume couldn’t override the constant smell of blood but he could sense the faint aroma of coconut and vanilla.

"So... the government sent you?" You adjusted your gloves as your eyes locked on Leon's. His blue eyes were piercing yet they weren't threatening.

"Yup." Leon crossed his arms as he continued watching you. "Kinda late, I'd say. Mr Clark was... the eighth victim?"

"The eleventh." You corrected him.

"Damn, they keep falling like dominoes."

You crouch down to inspect the body, there’s nothing visibly new compared to the other subjects of the crime. Lifeless eyes, and a nasty open wound on his forehead which resembled a shot. But other than that? Nothing much.

“Agent Kennedy, I don't think you're being professional.” You absentmindedly trailed off as you checked the candidate’s finger, paying close attention to his nails. Just in case this wasn’t a suicide case and there was DNA left in the victim’s nails.

“You're right.” He shrugged off as he sighed. He had done his part of the job before you arrived, so his presence was no longer required there. However, he stayed. “But then again, do you truly care for that asshole?”

Your ears perked at Leon’s sudden question. Sure, your disdain for politicians wasn’t exactly a secret. Everyone at the station knew about your hatred for the rich. But needless to say, you weren’t expecting the government’s boy to speak in such a manner.

Nor did you anticipate that he knew about you.

“Careful. Aren’t you supposed to be an agent?” Your demeanor slightly shifted into a more serious one. One that warned him he shouldn’t stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. And while you were a rightful civilian who actually wanted to restore peace in the city. If this rumor reached the newspaper, it would be the end for you.

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m fond of them.” And Leon wasn’t dumb, not at all. He caught the meaning behind those simple yet blunt words. “Or are you going to tell me you like working for your boss?”

“I’m the boss here.” Your expression quickly turned sour as Leon expressed his own opinions. You just noticed the tick of a clock, a persistent noise that only served to highlight the already growing tension.

See, you weren’t a bland person, far from that. You appreciate jokes and even engage in light-hearted teasing with your friends. Not with colleagues.

But at that moment, antics and pranks weren’t something you easily accepted. Living to be compared to men who were incapable next to you built walls that made it impossible to reach your core, to your true self.

“See? Maybe your subordinates don’t like you.”

“You should learn when to stop biting, Mr Kennedy.”

Leon just laughed and shook his head. His eyes stopped being focused on yours and decided to gaze through the large window the room had. The perfect view of the city was in front of him, a perfectly corrupted place.

A welcoming silence—after their awkward banter— set in. You took this opportunity to ask for more information related to the dead candidate. As you let go of his hand, you got up and took off your gloves.

“So… Agent, any background information the now deceased may have?”

“Besides the obvious? Not really.” A sigh slipped from the blue-eyed man. “He had a beautiful wife and beautiful kids. The white picket fence kind of life.”

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had.” You said.

“Minus the obvious opulent lifestyle he had, indeed.” Leon replies in tandem.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh you didn’t know he was holding. A headache was already brewing and you simply massaged your temples. The sensation of running in circles was once again setting and penetrating your mindset—there’s no clue to even pinpoint the cause of so many crimes.

“There’s nothing else here. Maybe your coworkers have something you could work with?”

And while you felt frustrated for not being able to do more, you let your irritation die down as you nodded.

As both of you exited the scene of the crime, flashing lights and camera shutters could be heard around the building as if they were annoying bugs that wouldn’t stop bothering you. Mosquitoes sucking the blood out of your systems.

Between noises and judging stares from the journalists, Leon’s stride led him to his bike that was just parked in front of your car. As you could already guess, the lenses of the cameras were getting the perfect take for tomorrow’s diary, especially since people love to read about the woman of the year being close to a man. To assert their sexist stance.

“Hey,” Leon called you, his voice barely audible as the constant background noise was still pretty much present. “Take this with you.”

A confused expression set on your face as you eyed the manila envelope Leon gave you. Before you could even open it to inspect what documents were in front of you, Leon’s voice stopped you.

“I don’t think it’d be wise of you to open that here.” Your attention returned to the blond man who was now putting on his helmet. Immediately, you pressed the folder against your chest, protecting the contents inside of it.

“What's it?”

“You’ll know later.” His hands gripped the handlebars, already turning on the engines. “For now, don’t do anything stupid.”

Haunted by the plethora of degrading terms you were called, your first instinct was to roll your eyes as you watched the agent driving away from the building and from the horde of journalists.

Nonetheless, a part of you couldn’t help but read between the lines. Leon hasn’t been particularly cruel to you like every other cop or colleague. So, his statement could be related to what’s inside the folder.

For now, you simply walked towards your car. Or rather, tried. Ready to be cornered by the starved media while cops attempted to serve as a protective wall around you.

Who am I if not exploited, abused, and corrupted?

A question that used to haunt Leon’s dreams and nightmares. His life purpose has been nothing but being the Government's puppet. Images and memories of being exploited and destroyed build up the man he is now.

Or rather, the beast.

In the search of the ultimate soldier, who would fight against every adversity. A creature that didn’t belong to this world was created. The once human could no longer be classified as one, and he gained the name of a vampire.

His hunger for food was replaced by a maddening and unbearable desire for the vital fluid of blood and his right to die was robbed from him as numerous experiments proved that, in fact, no human weapon could kill him now.

Leon’s spirit was bonded to eternity therefore dying meant nothing to him. He doesn’t belong to life since his humanity was stripped away from him the moment he sold his soul to the nation. But death didn’t want him either, since now mortality runs away from him as the monster he has become.

It was a statement he grew accustomed to. The world was cruel and he was reduced to a simple and mere battle machine. The best weapon the nation had.

Although, he knew he was far from being the best arsenal the government could come up with.

They were greedy. It's always been that way. And the moment the disappearances started, Leon's nature was once again brought to the surface.

It all started when he once switched to a News Channel. The slow and grim music was playing in the background as the headline read: NEWS REPORT: FATHER OF TWO IS MISSING. Followed by another update that indicated he was the third man who has disappeared in May.

No hell could be hot enough for whoever was behind all of this. However, Leon was terribly sure that this case wasn’t something orchestrated by just one individual. The anger he had so deeply buried now flourished as a flower. Yet this time it came with thorns that would cut and stab those who wished nothing but to set the world in despair.

He didn’t wait. If he stood still more innocent people would pay the price of being victims of the same destiny he faced.

— August 14, 1987 —

Mr Clark,

I send my most sincere congratulations to you as I’ve come to know that you’re people’s favorite candidate. I’m so sure your image must be impeccable and flawless to reach such level of popularity.

However, It’s so strange to me that as a public figure, you condemn those corrupted politicians who indulge in nothing but richness, crime, and sinful activities when your past (and present) does nothing but stain your image.

But, I’m a generous individual. I’ll give you two options which you can choose from. You come out clean, show everyone the type of sick criminal you are or, you simply end your life. Easy, right?

After all, you didn’t hesitate to end someone else’s.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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judysxnd · 1 year

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Proofs that Pedro Pascal & Y/n Y/l/n are dating

I saw those kind of fanfics a few times and I liked it very much, so I was like, I should try too. But idk it doesn’t feel the same, there is something missing, and I don’t really like it 😂 (when am I satisfied of my own writing? Yes. Never.)

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Pedro and y/n are known to be very close friends since the first movie they did together a few years ago, back in 2019. But, since then there have been numerous rumors about them being in a relationship. This is some moments when the internet nearly exploded when they’ve been seen/spotted together, moments that could confirm their relationship. Of course, they never publicly confirmed or denied anything. It’s like they are playing with it, or they just don’t care.

1) (your birthday) 2022, 11:31pm

Y/n posted a video on Instagram. Someone was inside, in the dark (at first we couldn’t see anything, but we could hear some whispers). We can hear a door opening, and y/n talking to someone before laughing. The door’s closing, when then can hear a male voice (that looked A LOT like Pedro’s voice), then the light was turned on and screams. That’s right, it was a surprise party. And it was indeed Pedro next to y/n.

With the video, there was a picture. A selfie that y/n took, with everyone behind her. But right next to her, there was Pedro.

The caption: “Thank you Pedro for organizing this, I love you so much. I’ve never been more thankful for my friends than today. Thanks for the birthday wishes everyone”

2) Y/n appears a lot in pictures with Pedro when he is out with some friends and vice versa. They seem to be spending a lot of time together. We also noticed that wherever Pedro was, Y/n was in the same city, during the same timeframe. We don’t know who follows who, but where one goes, the other is there too.

3) 18th August 2022, 4:13pm

A friend of Pedro posted a picture of them together. His friend was sitting on a chair, outside, Pedro was standing next to him. They were both only wearing bathing suits. But, we could spot y/n in the reflection of the glass door behind. She was standing there, holding her phone on her right hand, and on the other holding a glass.

4) 7th September 2022, during the afternoon

Y/n was spotted in New-York, walking in the streets, probably doing some errands. She was alone, but it was how she was dressed that raised some suspicion. She was wearing a large pink sweatshirt (the same that Pedro was wearing during the lie-detector interview), with a pair of black jeans.

Later in the afternoon she was also seen getting in a car that looked like Pedro’s. But no one actually saw who was driving.

5) 16th march 2023, around 7pm

One day, after Bella posted a lot of behind the scenes pictures on The Last of us set, Pedro did the same. He posted a few pictures and videos. In one of the picture, it was a group picture, Pedro, Bella, two infected, and.. y/n. What? It seems like they always move together.

6) 2nd April 2023, 2:56pm

Javiera, Pedro’s sister, posted a picture on her Instagram. It was a group photo. There was Pedro’s family, all gathered around the table, having lunch together. His entire family was here, but we could spot y/n next to Pedro. So if it was only family, why was she here?

The caption: “Happy birthday brother. We’re all here for you, just like you are for us. Family’s everything. Love you.”

7) 2nd April 2023, 9:07pm

They were spotted by paparazzis leaving a restaurant. No one seemed to be with them. Pedro’s wearing a very nice suit, and y/n’s wearing a black shiny dress. She’s holding his arm, and they’re both laughing. As they arrived to his car, he opened the door for her before closing it and going to his side. It really seemed like they were on a date. Are they making it official???

#i love him #imagine #fanfic #cute #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #pedro pascal imagine #preferences #Pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #happy birthday Pedro Pascal

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undead-supernova · 3 months

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I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

The Room Burned Down

Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Dancing With Our Hands Tied and I'm curious to see what people think about me twisting around the perspective of who is actually relating more to the songs

plot: maybe going to award shows together isn't as fun as you think it's gonna be...so, baby, can we dance through an avalanche?...I'd hold you as the water rushes in...

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: public shaming, some fluff, a hint of spice, arguments, smoking, mentions of addiction, mentions of abuse, mentions of fatphobia

easter egg count: 29

wc: 5.8k

“Do I have to talk to the press?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” your manager, Clara, said, typing away on her phone.

“They’re going to rake me across the coals.”

It had been nearly a month since your first date with him. Despite his hope that the noise would die down, it was only exasperated by the fact that you two hadn’t been seen out in public, sparking breakup rumors. But it was only that he had his promo and you had yours, traveling round and round with no time to rest. You even had outfit fittings for this very event that kept you in two different cities. It hadn’t put any strain on your relationship. If anything, it did the opposite. You lived your own lives, calling when possible. Texting nonstop once you caught a break at the same time. It was all so new for you.

Clara looked at you through the reflection of the mirror, her professional face on. “If they do, just smile and walk away. Thank them for their time. Just try to stay neutral like you always do. You’ll be perfect, I promise.”

Knock.

You peered over at the wall, a smile forming on your lips.

You knew exactly who would pull that move.

Knock, knock, you sent back.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“Stop it, oh my god.”

A giggle left your lips. “Sorry.”

It was merely a coincidence that Corroded Coffin was getting ready for the American Music Awards on the same floor as you…directly next to you, that is. All by happenstance and absolutely nothing else. There was no coordination whatsoever and if anyone accused you of such a thing, you’d deny it.

But here you were, causing mischief within the first hour of being situated. To be fair, you hadn’t seen Eddie yet, rushed off before Corroded Coffin even showed up. It was whiplash, Clara already spouting off the plans for the night. The time you’d get into the car. When you’d get out. The red carpet. Reminding you how to pose, how to smile. All the while, people floated around you with makeup brushes and endless cups of coffee. Hushed whispers and sighs.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

When you didn’t respond, you watched your door open in the reflection with Eddie stepping in, dodging the assistants and the assistant’s assistant running around. You smiled as you took in his appearance. Loose t-shirt and sweatpants, all cozy and soft. Hair damp, bangs pulled back. You noticed he’d been sat down for makeup, only one of his eyelids dusted in navy eye shadow.

God, you’d missed him.

“What’re you doing in here?” you asked, nearly jumping up to give him the biggest kiss he’d ever received. But when your knees jerked, Clara placed a hand on your shoulder to keep you down. The pout on your lips wouldn’t even sway her.

“You didn’t answer my knock,” Eddie said, trying to sound innocent, placing a hand over his chest. “I thought you were dead.”

You giggled, but Clara only sighed, shaking her head as she fought a smile. “I can’t believe you both. Like toddlers, I swear.” She turned to Eddie. “Get out of here. We leave in two hours, and I know that hair takes at least one. Don’t make me call Paige.”

Eddie sent you a wink from the shadowed eye. “See you later, babe.”

You chuckled. “Bye, Eddie.”

Today was big for the two of you. Big big. You were sitting at a reserved table with Corroded Coffin. Just you, Eddie, Grant, Gareth, Jeff, and Ronnie. All together. In public. On TV.

Your boyfriend would be with you unlike the last few wanting nothing to do with the exposure, usually hiding across the room. But Eddie insisted, only wanting to be near you all night. There for you, rooting for you as you were there for him, rooting for him. Getting to spend time with his close friends and his girlfriend.

Everything was starting to fall into place. The noise was becoming more bearable the more they stayed out of earshot. The world was unable to penetrate the magnificent walls you’d built around your hearts. And if you could just get through tonight without a fuck up or a bout of controversy, everything would be okay.

When you emerged from your hotel room, nearly ten minutes late, you found Eddie waiting for you, dark eyes widened as he looked over your outfit. You were in a Sixties Go-go dancer fantasy with a sparkly pink romper, the straps wrapped around your neck. Tall block-heeled boots reaching your knees. A thick pink boa to drape over your elbows. Dripping in jewels.

An absolute daydream.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Eddie exclaimed, picking you up and spinning you around, the boa floating to the floor. You took in his scent, that beautiful mixture of nicotine and bergamot from whatever cologne he’d started wearing lately. His breath was fresh against your neck, your ear, your jaw. His warmth bleeding through his double-breasted navy suit, textured from the polyester and cherry blossom pattern.

When a nearly silent gasp left your lips, Eddie wasted no time with hiding himself with his hair and nipping at your neck. Your grasp on his shoulders tightened as his fingers dug into your sides. Feeling his tongue lightly flick over the mark made you feel, well, insane. Had it really been an entire month without his breath? Had you really spent an entire mouth with his voice over the phone, guiding you through your orgasms as you whined and begged for him? Had you really gone this long without him?

Despite wanting to pull him back into the room and rip off his ridiculously expensive clothes, you grabbed your boa and his hand before jogging towards the elevator.

Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Ronnie were already down at the car, probably drinking complimentary champagne and getting ready to sit in the audience for four hours, waiting for their names to be called. You couldn’t blame them. It did get rather boring after a while of the cameras and commercial breaks and announcers and performances. You’d almost been asked to perform, but before you could say yes, they asked Olivia to do it instead. It wasn’t something you minded, but there was a little part of you had felt sad at the loss.

But you were here to have fun, not worrying about who was who or what people had to say about you. Just have fun with the people who knew what real fun was. Be able to survive the night.

Survive. Endure. Have fun.

As you made your way through to the lobby, hand in hand, you glanced over at Eddie again. You couldn’t believe how beautiful he was, always seeming to take your breath away. It was an accurate cliché, but one that couldn’t fully encompass how you felt. Hell, the English language wasn’t even enough.

“You’re a vision in navy,” you complimented, taking him in once again.

“Apparently, it’s a deep Prussian,” he corrected before rolling his eyes.

“Oh, my bad,” you replied sarcastically.

“Hey!”

Paige was storming towards you, scowling.

When you looked at Eddie, he just smiled at her and waved. “Paige, how lovely to see you tonight.”

But Paige merely groaned. “Get your asses to the car.”

“Look how beautiful my girlfriend is.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, Eddie—”

“Cut it, Romeo,” Paige interrupted, shoving you through the door and into the limo with the rest of the band. Everyone cheered, handing you both champagne before clinking your glasses together.

You couldn’t help but look over at Eddie, his grin just as wide as yours.

I’m so in love with you, you thought, so close to letting it fall out. I’m so, so in love with you.

“Come on,” Paige shouted, making you flinch as you watched her signal to the driver. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

As soon as you were let out of the car, Clara led you away from the group, ushering you towards the photo ops and interviews. Men behind cameras called your name, begged for your attention. This was still something you found strange, like being held in a cage. You were to be spectated, gawked at by the public as nothing more than a show. A source of entertainment that extended far beyond your comprehension.

But Clara had trained you for this since the first time you ever stepped out on one of these carpets. You knew how to give them what they wanted. So, you put your hand on your hip. Pivoted every few seconds for different angles. Let the light hit your highlighter at just the right moment. A smirk. A laugh. Shiny smile. Shiny eyes.

It killed you the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name being called from behind you, harmonious with the sound of the rest of their names being shouted out. The photographers were going nuts as they found their way onto the carpet. You wanted to look back at him, wanted to admire how he shone.

Because he did. He always did.

Eddie Munson knew how to shine without even breathing. Without talking. Without smiling. He could part a crowd like it was nothing, could bring everyone to their knees if he merely snapped his fingers. It was undeniable.

Everyone wanted him.

And, dangerously, he was all yours.

“You’ve been busy!”

You chuckled, trying to keep your eyes from flickering over at the camera being shoved in your face. This was the first interview of the night, the first of five. Five. It was something you’d agreed to months ago, but you didn’t realize just how taxing it would feel until the blonde woman in front of you stuck her microphone up to your lips.

“Oh, yeah!” you responded. “With writing the new album and thinking about the next tour and stuff, I’ve just been running around and trying to keep everything in check. Plus, Acacia My Dear means so much to me, I don’t want another album to overshadow that hard work.”

“And I’m sure you get a lot of support from your new boyfriend, Eddie Munson.”

You’d anticipated the mention, mulled it over and let yourself spiral late at night. But nothing prepared you for your dry mouth, for the lump in your throat as you began to scramble for an answer.

“Well, I’ve been really focused on my music,” you responded.

But she wasn’t letting up. “Will there be any songs about him on the new album?”

“I think art is always up for interpretation.” You smiled bigger despite your frustration, looking over her shoulder and pretending to notice someone. “I have to go, thank you.”

But you weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Have you collaborated with your boyfriend on anything?”

“I really like to write by myself. The songwriting and the music are so important to me. Obviously, it’s important to the people who are so talented in different ways. I’m just grateful that people seem to care about it as much as I do.”

“You and Eddie are so different. How does that translate at shows like this?”

“I think everyone is here because they’re successful and talented at what they do. I can only hope that I measure up tonight.”

“Do you think Corroded Coffin has a chance tonight?”

“Everyone here is so talented. I hope that everyone gets a chance to shine as much as they do. I know that winning isn’t everything, but I hope I have a good shot.”

“Is your new album influenced by Eddie’s sound at all?”

“I’m talented and successful because of the sound I’ve cultivated and what I do. I think that I will continue to evolve as an artist and as a songwriter and, for me, I believe that I have been doing just that.”

Four more interviews and each one talked about Eddie and not your music. Not your success. You hissed to your publicist that no one was allowed to even mutter Eddie’s name in an interview again and she furiously nodded and apologized. Clara nearly told you to cool it, but you stormed off into the venue. You didn’t want to hear from her. You’d done your fucking job.

When you spotted Eddie inside talking to Grant, you immediately found yourself in his arms. Away from the cameras. Away from the vultures.

“Eddie.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, rubbing your back.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” you gasped, anxiety flooding your system. Your hands were shaking, mind frenzied by the noise and the people and the fucking embarrassment.

“No, hey. It’s alright. Tell me what happened.”

You pulled back, but Eddie kept his hands on your waistline. Kept you close.

“They just kept bringing you up. I tried to steer it all away back to my music, but they just kept going.”

“Hey, they asked me that shit, too.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that my relationship is private, but I’m proud of all your hard work right now. ‘Cause I am.”

Immediately, you felt like a shitty girlfriend. “I should’ve said that. I’m sor—"

“Look at me, baby,” he interrupted, searching your eyes. “Tell me your favorite Beatles song right now. Hm?”

Searching your mind, you were caught on the only lyrics that came to mind.

“Life is very short and there’s no time for fussing and fighting, my friend.”

“‘We Can Work It Out’.”

“And we can,” he replied with a small smile, tapping your chin. You nodded. “Let’s just go sit down with everyone and try to bring the energy back, alright? I’m right here with you, baby. Always.”

But there were other lyrics to that song, ones that echoed even louder.

“Try to see it my way

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong

While you see it your way

There’s a chance that we may fall apart before too long.”

Everything was turned around, the smiles and the laughter returning you to your senses. Corroded Coffin won the only award they were up for tonight. Naturally. After that, Jeff had pulled out a hidden deck of cards. You, him, Eddie, and Gareth were in a mean game of Go Fish, giggling your way through Gareth trying to cheat.

You were hardly listening when someone said your name onstage. Looking up from your cards, you heard the tail end of it.

“…is about to switch genres, sitting over there with her new boyfriend.” The crowd around you laughed. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

You saw Eddie’s hand in your peripheral vision, saw the middle finger starting to lift, and pushed his hand down. No need to make a scene.

“Quick, Eddie. Don’t get too close!”

Without hesitation, Gareth, Grant, Jeff, and Ronnie all stood up and flipped him off. Ronnie even pointed hers directly at the camera filming your reaction.

The audience gasped while other celebs at tables cheered them on.

What the fuck was happening?

Eddie glanced at you before getting up and stepping onto his chair. Slowly, he raised his middle finger.

The crowds roared, the presenter starting to look embarrassed as the whole room turned into chaos. Dozens of pictures captured their defiance, their retaliation.

And you?

Well, you sat there with a neutral expression, already trained in the art of disguising your emotions. Your lips didn’t hold a smile or a frown, something set in the middle. You controlled your eyes to stay in position, refusing to widen or fall half-lidded. Refusing to look up at your boyfriend.

But inside, you were something else entirely.

Full of rage at the jokes, full of fear at the way Eddie’s whole band went to bat for you. Furious at yourself for being unable to find the will to stand up with them. Terrified at what the world was about to say about it. Humiliated that they felt the need to pull a stunt to a stupid joke you’d heard a million times.

“Woah, woah, guys! Calm down!” the presenter said with a shaky laugh. He was clearly not anticipating what was happening. “It’s all jokes, promise. All jokes. Nice organization, though, truly. Anyways, moving on to the next category. Here presenting the award—”

As everyone sat back down, Jeff and Gareth went back to their game like it was nothing.

You turned to your boyfriend. “Eddie—”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes meeting yours. “I can’t just let them do that. People have to know that it’s not okay.”

“Eddie, they’re gonna talk about us,” you said, noticing your southern accent bleeding through. Fuck. “Y’all can’t just do that. Think of tomorrow, think of—”

“And the nominees are for Best Pop Album are…”

You had to look away, remember where you were. Because that was your name they were saying up there, yourface they were zoning in on.

And it was you that everyone was looking at as you were declared the winner.

You began standing, Eddie helping to pull out your chair. Turning to him, you thought about kissing him, thought about hugging him. Thought about giving him any sliver of physical affection while the world was watching.

His hand reached out for yours, but you gave him a small smile before dipping your head and walking toward that stage. Alone. Without anyone by your side to help you up the steps. The applause was nearly deafening, the support seemingly louder than before.

But you had to focus, clearing your throat as you took the shiny award, resembling a shard of glass ready to pierce your skin at a moment’s notice. You reminded yourself of where you were, what you were doing. What you had to do. Face the world yet again.

Leaning into the microphone, you began.

“I’d really like to thank my record label for giving me the opportunity to explore new sounds and trusting me with the writing and producing process. Acacia My Dear is obviously a play on the Beatles song and I was so inspired to create an album centered around a fictional version of myself that I created. To tell that story was so euphoric and beautiful.” A few cheers sounded. “My art is what keeps me going and I’ll never stop loving it. Never. Um,” you stumbled, looking back out at the crowd before back at your award.

There were words on your togue.

I’d like to thank Eddie for being so supportive these last five months.

But you only shook your head.

“So, yeah, this is for the fans and the many, many young queer women out there who want to make music. Y’all—” you paused, careful to switch your accent back. “You all can do it and you can be successful.” You lifted the award high into the air. “If I can, you can, too. Thank you.”

You’d made it to the vacant bathroom, made it to the sink in time to feel yourself start to lose it.

This wasn’t the time to lose it.

You couldn’t.

But you were.

Being an outcast in high school was something you had in common with Eddie. While your circumstances differed and you didn’t know much about his past, you knew that you were both given the same nickname. Freak. You weren’t too sure exactly how you were supposed to be much of a freak, but you’d been labeled as such since grade school. It was always something new, from your interests to your appearance to whatever you said or did in class. The punchline to bets made by boys in the name of sheer boredom.

But girls and boys are both cruel. And whoever said boys shouldn’t hit girls never went to your schools. You were pushed into walls. Punched. Called names. Cyberbullied once emailing became a thing. Humiliated on social media once that came around. You were ugly, fat. Freak. A wannabe musician who had no talent. Freak. A loner who sat by herself and wrote during recess because nobody liked you enough to let you to play with them. Freak. Booed when you sang at your talent shows, left uninvited to sleepovers and birthday parties.

Freak.

The only thing you held sacred was your music that you recorded on GarageBand and uploaded to YouTube and Soundcloud, back when all of that was way more popular. It gained traction somehow, your song “High Walls” getting thousands upon thousands of views and praise. A record label saw the spike and took a chance on you, thinking you were talented enough at eighteen to make it big.

And you did.

But you still had nightmares about those days. Spent time in therapy talking about how ridiculous you felt that you were still haunted by teenage girls and boys, all surrounding you with hollering laughter and pointed fingers. How you still heard their words echo in your mind whenever you looked online and saw the vile things being said about you. Still felt the sting of salt in your wounds whenever friends you’d made would stab you in the back.

The sound of heels brought you back to your reality, brought you back to the faint hum of the performance on the other side of the theater. For a moment, you thought that maybe Ronnie or Clara decided to see if you were okay.

But you were disappointed to find some actress you forgot the name of. You recognized her face and nothing more. Her dark hair curled down to her shoulders, showered in golden eyeshadow and body glitter. She recognized you immediately, eyebrows shooting up at the mere sight of you.

But she kept moving to the other side, holding her words back. You knew they were coming, anticipated them as she got settled. Her lips wrapped around a vape, her back and one red pump pressed against the wall.

Crossing her arms, she began her prodding. “Some show, huh?”

You only shrugged.

“Want a hit?”

You looked at her, seeing that the offer was coming from a place of understanding rather than passing judgment or niceties. Because her mouth was scrunched up to the side, like she felt bad for you. Like she was genuinely just trying to figure out how to help.

And though you never really smoked cigarettes all that often, you took it from her and pulled a long drag. Well, maybe too long. The rush of nicotine hit you hard, dizzying before you felt the release. Like you were flying, like you were escaping from whatever hell you were being trapped in. And it was fleeting, the moment ending as soon as the cloud of smoke left your lips.

You handed it back to her. “Thanks,” you said with a breathy laugh. The familiar taste of MAC lipstick lingered on your tongue.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Thinking the interaction was over with, you went back to looking at yourself. Your mind was close to clearing, was so close to being brought back from the brink of madness. If you could just get through the night without another hiccup or mistake, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe if you stayed perfectly calm—

“Eddie Munson, huh?”

You refrained from letting out a scoff, your impulse control not strong enough to keep you from throwing up your hand before it slapped against the counter.

“Yeah. Eddie Munson.”

She noticed your irritation but didn’t get upset. She only watched you, tilting her head as she took another drag.

“What’s he like?”

The question rang in your head, echoing around you like there were a million voices asking at once. Because he was the one that everyone wanted, the one everyone gravitated towards. He was yours but he was also everyone else’s. Even if you could separate the two, could extract him from their narratives and stories, they would still be there. All rallied behind him like an army following blindly in his honor.

But it wasn’t like they would do the same for you, was it? No, you were an outsider to the genre, to the subculture that he was in. You were just some popstar who didn’t get it, didn’t get him. Chasing a momentary high like that drag you took. Here one second, gone the next. Lulling him into the haze before fading into the gray. And you realized that even if you were given the chance to be with him forever, a chance that now seemed extremely slim, you would never truly be the sole person who got to keep him.

Loving him forever comes with a cost.

Looking back at your reflection, you sighed.

“A dream.”

Before you gave her any time to respond, you left.

Your ride back to the hotel was quiet, Eddie’s breathing becoming ragged with every red light they endured. He was worrying you, not even looking you in the eye when you got back to your seat. For the rest of the night. When you got a car together. When you stepped into the lobby. The elevator.

But then Eddie was taking off his blazer, trudging down the hallway, the boom of his combat boots bouncing off the walls.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” you asked, trying to keep up.

“You barely even touched me the whole night.”

“Y’all stood up and made a scene!”

“Because he was being a goddamn prick.”

“I know, but that’s why you just don’t give them a reaction! It just causes more attention and then people think you do it because you want attention and then it just gets spun into something it’s not because people love drama—"

“No,” Eddie said harshly, turning around to face you. “I don’t care about that. I don’t care about the fucking internet. I wanted to congratulate you on your win and yet you just walked away. It hurt.”

“What you guys did hurt me. It was unprofessional.”

Eddie stopped then, pausing to really look at you for what felt like the first time since the band stood up.

But he had no time to respond.

“Hey, what the fuck are you yelling at him for?!” Ronnie shouted down the hall, her boots just as loud as his.

She really did look a lot like Eddie, with the same curly hair and hardened stare. The same protective nature, the same wild heart. But her eyes were void of any compassion, any sympathy. She was fucking pissed, and it was only directed at you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Did y’all ever think about how I’d feel about it? It was tough enough to publicly sit—”

“I’m so sorry that sitting at a table with your boyfriend and his friends is such a chore for you.”

Behind her, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff approached, their laughter cut short at the intensity of her words. Eyes trained on the scene in front of them. All three men silent, all three men watching the showdown that you didn’t ask to be a part of.

“Ronnie,” Eddie said. It sounded more like a warning, but she was still looking at you, still ready to pounce.

And so, she did.

“You’re a coward,” Ronnie seethed. “You’re lucky to have someone like him and I know you’ll gladly throw it away just because it isn’t the fucking fairytale you imagined. This is real life, sweetie. I know you sit there in your fantasy world with your sugarcoated lyrics and your fake smile. Too afraid to let anyone know how you really feel. Too afraid to hold your boyfriend’s fucking hand. A goody two-shoes who does nothing but cry about how unfair her life is even though you have everything you could ever need.

“You think you’re risking everything for him? For us? No. You’re not risking a goddamn thing if you just sit there and take it. Avoid it. Act like it’s not happening. We stood up for you because we fucking care about Eddie and Eddie cares about you. We didn’t have to do that. We could’ve just let him make fun of you for three more hours and let you get humiliated. But we did that, and I don’t care if you didn’t like it. You needed help. And you’re an idiot for acting like this has anything to do with professionalism.

“You’re nothing but a coward. I can only hope you’ll change your fucking attitude for Eddie’s sake. But if you’re going to keep acting like this, you need to leave him and us the hell alone. Don’t drag someone into your fucking mess if you can’t clean it up.”

You tried not to cry in front of her, tried not to give in to bending and breaking of your soul. Her speech was loud, deafening, ringing in your ears like waves crashing into each other. Instead of replying, you turned and ran into your hotel room and slammed the door behind you. Sobs escaped your lips as you did everything you could to take all that shit off. Threw the boa on the floor. Threw your shoes at the headboard. Let your jewelry land wherever the fuck it wanted.

But your romper was harder, sticking to your skin with the sweat and nerves and—

The door opened, Eddie rushing into the room like it was burning down. And in some ways, it really felt like it. The heat and the sweat and the nerves and the way Ronnie shot those flaming arrows, the way it set your brain afire. The way it was starting to spread.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry about Ronnie. She gets really protective of me; it’s been a thing since we were kids—"

“Maybe this is too much,” you interrupted, “Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone less messy. Less cowardly.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Are you suggesting we break up?”

“I just,” you started, watching his eyes start to widen. “I don’t know. I feel like your whole life is being thrown into chaos because of me and I don’t want you having to change your whole life or fuckin’ feel the need to defend me on national television. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to Grant and Gareth and Jeff and Ronnie.”

“Baby, I want you, okay? I’m willing to push through the bullshit if it means that I’ll get to fucking see you at the end of the day or week or even month. You’ve changed my life.”

You shook your head. He was lying, he had to be. Or he was living in delusion, riding on that fucking fairytale that Ronnie claimed you’d created. That wasn’t his reality, wasn’t yours.

“You just don’t understand, Eddie!”

Eddie’s jaw clenched. “I know this is hard on you. I know. But you’re not the only one hurting, okay? I don’t like this any more than you do, and I don’t think it’s fair that you’re acting like I don’t get it. People call me a man whore or a player or whatever. And even though I recovered, people still think I’m a fucking cokehead. That shit is brutal. I’m not this crazy person who does what all the bands did in the Sixties or Seventies. Hell, even the Eighties and Nineties.”

Your eyebrows pulled in tight at his admittance.

“It sickens me,” he continued, his stare intensifying. “I’m just a loser who got lucky and got out of a shitty small town.” He gestured away from himself. “I’m still that loser. That freak. And I was never given a chance by girls after we blew up—hell, most guys laughed at me. I had to just figure this out for myself, and I,” he gestured back to himself, “have chosen to remove myself from it. Remove myself from that picture they’ve painted for me. And then I found someone who fucking understands.”

As you listened, Eddie’s hand came back down, brushing against yours before weaving your fingers together.

“Someone who sees the world like I do and chooses me despite it being so…so loud. And you have spent your life thinking you have to do this alone. I get it. So did I. But one thing I’ve learned that you haven’t is that you don’t have to do this alone. We got you. I got you.”

“This is going to look so bad for you,” you whispered, tears running down your cheeks.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t care.”

Your head shook for you, rapidly denying his words.

“And the rest of the band.”

His fingers met the back of your head, trying to soothe you as he rubbed circles into the muscles.

“I don’t care.”

Your eyes searched his as you tried to make sense of it all, make sense of the fact that he was still here. He hadn’t left. He’s saying things that no one, no one, had said to you before and meant so fervently.

“And me,” you finished, barely above a whisper.

He paused for a split second, long enough for you to catch it before he finally looked away, tucking his lip into his mouth.

His forehead bumped against yours, taking a deep breath. You did the same, breathing him in as you tried to find the will to stay.

To fight.

To keep whatever the hell it was that you had.

“Baby, I want to be with you.” His eyes shot back up to yours, tears collecting in his eyes.

“And I want our privacy. Trust me, I understand how you feel. But I still want to go outside and be as normal as we can. I wanna go get dinner and coffee and do whatever the fuck we want. I want to post a picture of you and dedicate my songs to you and be open and whatever the fuck else I want.”

“I feel the same way.”

“I know you do, baby. That’s why I want you to understand me. I want the same things you do, and I want us to figure out a solution together. I know we can do it. I just know. So don’t…don’t go.”

You closed your eyes, choking on a sob as you tried to make sense of it all. How he could still be here, fighting for you to keep going.

“Eddie…”

His hands clutched onto yours as he sniffled. You felt his tears landing on your skin.

“Stay.”

This was messy. You were messy. A big, huge, ginormous mess that was getting in the way of everyone else’s happiness. Being everyone else’s disappointment. It was only a matter of time before you fucked up and ruined this. Ruined him.

But he’s still there, asking you not to leave.

“Is it really that simple?” you asked.

“Look at me.”

And you did, watching his tears cascade down his cheeks. Watching as his face grew desperate, watching as his lip quivered.

“Please, don’t go. Stay.”

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar!Eddie x popstar!reader #I nearly cried thinking this was the worst thing I'd ever written so I hope I did okay #surprise drop of this chapter lol

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robininthelabyrinth · 10 months

Note

Hello it's last anon thank you for letting me give a prompt

So I really liked your pairing of LQR/WRH/Lao Nie and after seeing wwx's parents in the last episode of the donghua it got me thinking, How about WRH/WCZ/CSSR? WRH maybe saves them in yiling and they end up hitting it off (WRH might do it in the beginning just spite jfm by stealing his former best friend and crush) and the Wei family settles in nightless city, wwx grows up with the Wen heirs and wen Qing and wen Ning and that affects the events of Canon

(I wouldn't mind smut tbh if you want to include it, they're all hotties lol)

Thank you so much for letting me send a prompt 🙏😭❤️

ao3

“I don’t suppose you can help with this,” Wen Ruohan said to Lan Qiren, who had the unmitigated gall to look amused at him, as if he’d brought this disaster down on his own head or something like that. “Aren’t you supposed to be friends with that awful -”

“Cangse Sanren and I are indeed good friends,” Lan Qiren said peaceably and tonelessly, possibly just because he was trying to annoy Wen Ruohan to death. “I am therefore very familiar with the fact that there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop her from proceeding precisely as she wishes.”

That was not what Wen Ruohan wanted to hear.

“You’re her friend,” he said, deciding to focus on the important part. “Take her away.”

“You’re the sect leader of the Nightless City,” Lan Qiren rebutted. “Order her to leave.”

Wen Ruohan couldn’t do that.

Well, he could. By all rights, he ought to have done it a month ago, when Cangse Sanren had first marched into the Fire Palace and said, “Oh, this will work perfectly! I love it, you’re so thoughtful!” and started rearranging the entire place into some sort of workshop for herself, possibly involving grain storage. He’d meant to, but he’d been a bit distracted at the time – Wei Changze had wanted to know what all the machines did, and he’d had an endless number of clever ideas on how some of them could be repurposed for things other than torture, some of which had been really very intriguing.

Anyway, it wasn’t as if Wen Ruohan had time to attend torture sessions any more, not with three loudly yelling children running around all the time. Wei Wuxian might be the youngest of the lot, with both Wen Xu and Wen Chao as his elders, but he’d managed in a very short amount of time to make himself the undoubted leader of the pack and spoiled beloved youngest all at the same time. There had even been avid discussions about how they would need to bring other children over to visit in order to better socialize the children. He’d already summoned some cousins over, Wen Qing and Wen Ning, which meant that soon there would be even more children…

It was a headache, really.

Absolutely.

Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren were driving him up the wall.

They were also regular visitors in his bed, something that would very likely rapidly stop being the case if he actually kicked them out of the Nightless City.

“This one’s on you, Hanhan,” Lao Nie put in, grinning wildly at him. Now there was one that was completely unmoved by the news of Wen Ruohan’s new relationship – everyone else had reacted, whether by Jiang Fengmian’s profound embarrassment, raging jealousy, and quiet fury, Jin Guangshan very obviously trying to calculate some way of using this to his advantage, and Lan Qiren immediately going over to question his friends’ sanity – and that was pretty annoying in its own way. After all, Wen Ruohan had really only invited the two rogue cultivators into his bed in the first place as a matter of spite, a way of excising his rage when he’d heard the rumors about Lao Nie potentially taking on a third wife.

He hadn’t expected them to stay.

He hadn’t expected to want them to stay.

Which he didn’t! They were a mess, each one worse than the next – Cangse Sanren was barely human most days, like some sort of feral demonic beast that had accidentally achieved human form and continuously forgot (thanks to her prodigiously bad memory) that she was supposed to be pretending to be normal, and Wei Changze was remarkably similar to Lao Nie in the sense that he’d never taken anything seriously in his life, except for the fact that his humor was lighthearted and unleavened by the hints of trauma and tragedy that lurked behind Lao Nie’s unbridled hedonism. There wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t let slide off his shoulders, forgetting a beating as soon as it was over…Wei Changze might be a lot less vicious than Lao Nie was, but he was reckless to the extreme, in a way that made absolutely no sense. Wasn’t he supposed to be a servant? What was he doing rushing out into the field with a sword and smile and absolutely no advance planning whatsoever? Even Lao Nie wouldn’t do that!

Anyway, they were a handful.

They were maddening.

They were the most interesting thing that had happened to Wen Ruohan in years.

“Your input is not required,” Wen Ruohan informed Lao Nie, who shrugged expansively. “Unless you have something constructive to add.”

“No, no, nothing constructive, you know me, I’m not built for that…but I’m glad that you’re happy.”

Wen Ruohan stopped where he was.

“I’m not right for you,” Lao Nie said, and even though he was still smiling, same as always, there was something sharp in his eyes – the same sharpness that had caught Wen Ruohan’s interest in the first place, like a beautiful dagger that you longed to touch even though you knew its biting edge might cut. “You know, I know, even Qiren knows it…you’re happy now, and that’s good. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Wen Ruohan wanted to say something.

Preferably something cutting, something about how it was too late for Lao Nie to regret – except he didn’t think Lao Nie did regret, because Lao Nie did not live a life of regret. Lao Nie had enjoyed their time together, had been as sincere and true as he was made to be and no further. But, and maybe it was because he’d never expected to keep Wen Ruohan for very long in the first place, he’d felt little sorrow at it ending, instead feeling nothing but joy on Wen Ruohan’s behalf at seeing him happy, even if it was with another.

Wen Ruohan didn’t understand that. He’d always loved too fiercely, too well; he’d always yearned to keep that which he cared for close to him, nearby, somewhere he could protect them and keep them.

Even Lao Nie…Wen Ruohan had been enticed by Lao Nie’s ruthlessness, his bloodthirstiness, his Nie sect temper tempered with a nasty sort of cunning that had made him remarkably successful at expanding his sect’s reach in the north, and he’d been flattered at how persistent the other man was in pursuing him. It was only later, when he’d gotten used to having him around, that he had started to feel jealous…

“They’ll be good for you,” Lao Nie said. His eye twinkled. “You could use a bit of chaos in your life.”

Wen Ruohan shook his head. “I’m trying to get rid of them,” he protested, but even he didn’t believe what he was saying. “They’re a menace. Especially Cangse Sanren – do you know that she’s literally doomed? I swear, I spend all my trying keeping her from getting herself killed…”

“Don’t you enjoy defying the heavens?” Lan Qiren asked, rolling his eyes as if Wen Ruohan were missing something obvious. “I would have thought that someone carting around a heaven-sent calamity would be a perk for someone like you.”

…it rather was, wasn’t it?

“Whatever. Fine. Leave it, I’ll figure it out myself,” Wen Ruohan grumbled, then turned his narrowed eyes on the two of them. “Now for something you can help with: My children need more socialization or else they’ll genuinely think Wei Wuxian is a good example of other children. Sect Leader Lan – you’re a teacher, aren’t you…?”

“Well, yes. But –”

“What a wonderful idea!” Lao Nie clapped his hands together. “I can send my two boys to Qiren to teach, too! And we can definitely bully Fengmian and Guangshan into sending theirs. It’ll be…oh, I don’t know. A regular summer excursion!”

“In my sect?” Lan Qiren asked, arching his eyebrows. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a teacher, of course. Anyway, are you saying you don’t want Cangse Sanren to crash at your place for a few months..?”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Wen Ruohan said at once. When both of them smirked at him, he scowled. “Even if I wanted her too, she’s not. It was a statement of fact, nothing more.”

“Then perhaps we should all come visit the Nightless City instead,” Lao Nie said. “It could be like a miniature discussion conference, except limited to the Great Sects – we could go night-hunting and such while Qiren teaches the children.”

Was Lao Nie proposing an orgy? He’d better not be proposing an orgy, not if he genuinely intended to invite Jiang Fengmian and his wife or Jin Guangshan and his to attend…

“Of course, if it’s focused on the children, maybe the adults aren’t entirely necessary to invite – well, except for you, as the host, Qiren as the teacher, and me as the person who came up with the idea…”

Lao Nie was definitely proposing an orgy.

“…I’ll see what Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze have to say about it,” Wen Ruohan allowed. But only because he thought that it was something they would very much like, and he’d been completely out of ideas on what he could get a couple as notoriously disinterested in material goods as a courting gift – he hated not being capable, that’s all it was. There was no other reason than that! “We’ll see.”

“Did I agree to this?” Lan Qiren asked, frowning. “When did I agree to this –”

“You can’t say no,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’ll set Cangse Sanren on you if you do.”

“…I see that I’ve agreed to this.”

Lao Nie laughed, Lan Qiren sighed, and Wen Ruohan…

Wen Ruohan resigned himself to keeping Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze around a little longer.

Just a little.

#mdzs #wen ruohan #lan qiren #sect leader nie #cangse sanren #wei changze #my fic #my fics #posting a few of these today to finish clearing out this one word doc

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cowpokeomens · 4 months

Text

Pas de Trois: Part One

Pairing: Reader x Noah, eventual Reader x Nicholas

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None! (Yet)

I was just thinking, like: Swans, right? But Noah and Nicholas. No beta we die like Odette and Siegfried!

It was as cold in the beginning as it was in the end.

You could pretend all you wanted- that the embrace of a not-quite lover could warm you enough to stay alive. But you both knew better by now.

It starts the way it ends: at a pond.

You need a breather from your mother and her love schemes. Something about a party at the Van der Whatever’s condo on the east side, the unwed men rumored to be in attendance.

All those years of safeguarding your virginity like a crown jewel, only to be whored out to the first eligible bachelor the second you turned 23 and expressed no interest in marriage.

You roll your eyes at the thought of it; the idea of preserving your chastity whilst being surrounded by the scum of the earth in Bottega stilettos. It feels like you rub elbows with literal vampires most days: creatures that linger in the shadows, waiting to drain you of whatever they needed from you in that moment.

At least Bela Lugosi never asked you about why you decided against Yale after your father’s hefty (and unrequested) donation.

The air is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you walk. You wander into a familiar park near your apartment, the street lamps illuminating the freshly fallen snow in a gentle glow. All around you, trees creak and groan in the wind, as if they, too, were ready for spring again. It isn’t so secluded that you felt any real danger, but it was far enough away from the sounds of traffic to give your mind space to wander.

Faintly, you hear the sounds of people milling about on the street. There’s a theatre up the road- they’ve been hosting a ballet company performing The Nutcracker for the last month or so. Looking through the gaps in the bushes, you can spot a few people dressed in rich velvets and fur coats taking photos under the gleam of marquee lights. You haven’t gone to see The Nutcracker for years now. Your mother stopped taking you when you confessed that you did not have the talent- nor endurance- to be a real ballerina, the same time that she unenrolled you from dance classes altogether.

Humming Tchaikovsky's Pas de Deux to yourself, you meander through the park until you come upon a pond. A treasure in your heart, it’s a spot you come to often to clear your head- though this is your first nighttime foray.

Longer than it was wide, the pond was not the most impressive in the city by a longshot. Most people didn’t even know of its existence, save the few dog-walkers who came through in the mid-morning and late afternoon. It was familiar, though, having been situated here as far back as your memory could recall.

Winter crept over the small body of water in sheets of ice at the outer perimeter. If the temperature continued to drop (it would) the entire thing would be frozen solid by next week. As it was, the ice at the edges looked thick enough to hold up an entire person.

You fight back the melancholy this brings you, knowing the incoming freeze would take with it the many creatures that inhabit the pond. The ducks have long since left, flying somewhere further south, somewhere warmer. The fish have been awfully quiet the last few weeks as well, settling in for their winter rest. That really just left the-

Ah, You think, sounding hushed even in your head. There you are.

They glide in silently, slicing through the water like moonlight. Long, graceful necks with great plumes puffing up behind them, the swans are pure magic in the stillness of the night. They make a triangle in the water, with four smaller fowl following the swan at the crest of the formation. Its dark eyes meet yours for a moment, and you feel so utterly vulnerable under its gaze that you look away, suddenly very interested in your shoes.

Must you be intimidated by everything? You sigh to yourself internally. Seriously, a fucking bird?

You felt silly as you built the courage to finally look back up, but the bevy had disappeared. Craning your neck around, you were halfway to considering searching for them on foot when a branch cracked behind you.

Whirling around, your eyes scanned the tree line, pulling the mace on your keychain out with shaking hands. The neighborhood was safe, sure, but you weren’t stupid. A girl alone in a park well after the sun had set? Yeah, you’d seen the crime shows- no thanks.

“Hello?” You call, your voice wobbling despite your best efforts.

Another crack.

Your mace was up in an instant, poised and ready to fire. You are not a damsel in distress, you are certainly not going to be a statistic. As your heart pounded in your throat, a figure came into view.

“Ew, there’s bird shit everywhere- Woah!” The stranger stumbled backwards, hands up in the air as he saw you. “Oh my god, please don’t tase me-“

“It’s not a taser.” Was, for some reason, your first response. Then, “Who are you? What are you doing lurking around in the dark?”

His eyes went wide. “It’s a public park! I’m going for a walk!”

Your eyes narrow, the hand wielding the mace never moving. “A walk? At 9:45 at night?”

Impossibly, his eyes grew wider. They were dark- familiar in a way you couldn’t fully place in your panicked state. The snow reflects off of them, reminiscent of starlight. “You are also in the park at 9:45? And you’re armed?”

Well, that was certainly a valid observation. You take two deep breaths, then lower the mace, though not pocketing it entirely. You spend a moment observing his appearance.

He was tall- tall enough to be threatening, if he wanted to. Slim build, dark eyes, like you’d noted before. His hair was parted down the middle, brushing against the top of his cheekbones softly. He’s handsome, you think. Not the overly-manicured handsome you were accustomed to, though. He reminded you of the first dandelions in the spring; The delight you feel at seeing a living thing burst forth from the frozen ground, uncaring of if it's a weed or not.

A huge sweater encompassed him, something light in color and soft-looking. The sleeves poked out of the arm holes of his jacket in a strange way, as if it took a great deal of work to stuff them in there in the first place. A hat topped it all off, giant pom-pom bobbing at you in a way that was far from menacing.

“That’s a weird hat to wear while you creep on people in the park.” You quip, cocking an eyebrow at him.

His mouth drops open in shock. “My grandmother made me this, fuck you very much. And it’s winter! Of course I’m wearing a hat. Are you always this bad with logic and reason?”

“So you don’t deny creeping?” You ignored his question.

The face he gives you would have been comical under different circumstances. “Wha- Okay, look, I’m sorry for encroaching on your turf- even if that turf is city property-“ he mumbles the last bit to himself- “But I’m not like, a serial-killer-murderer. Pinky promise.”

He looks so earnest, it reminds you of a little kid. He is holding out a single pinky to you, a safe distance away.

You eye him warily for a second, then sigh, taking a few steps forward to interlock your pinky with his. He beams at you, smile as bright as the snow that began to silently fall around the two of you.

You introduce yourself, shifting on your feet in a way that feels awkward and uncomfortable, like you were suddenly too aware of your body’s movements.

“I’m Noah.” He offers warmly, cheeks and nose tinged a rosy pink from the winter air. The longer you look at him, the less intimidated you feel. He was still large- but in the way that the inflatable noodle-people outside of used car dealerships were large. He didn’t flail, necessarily, though. His movements seemed fluid, controlled. Where you were rigid from years of posturing amongst socialites, he was naturally elegant, as at ease under your gaze as the swans in the pond earlier.

Soft, your mind supplies. He looks soft.

His voice is gentle when he speaks again. “So, what brought you to the park in the middle of a blizzard?”

You try to resist the grin that creeps across your face; you fail miserably. “If you think this is a blizzard, you’re in for a shock come February.”

“Do you defer every question someone asks you, or am I just special?” His dark eyes are trained on you, head cocked to the side curiously. It wasn’t an attack- his expression was too open to be on the offense. He was genuinely waiting for your answer.

“I needed to get away from my mother.” You answer honestly, shrugging, though not meeting his gaze.

You can feel his eyes on you, though, searching for more. “You got into an argument?”

Shaking your head, you cast your eyes back to the pond, hoping to get another glimpse of the swans. “Not an argument. We have the same discussion every week, knowing fully well that we’ll disagree and end up screaming at each other.”

You have not felt… seen, like this, ever. You aren’t an adamant rule-follower, but you’re far from a rebel, too, allowing you to safely pass through life unnoticed. Even your mother only really seemed to remember you after your older sister had been married off to some fishing industry tycoon. To have a stranger see through your facade was unnerving.

“Disagreeing and screaming sounds like an argument to me.” He pushes, to which you hum noncommittally. Sensing your apprehension, he follows your line of sight to the pond instead. “The ducks left weeks ago.”

“I’m not looking for the ducks.” You answer shortly, perhaps a bit too harsh.

“Oh?” Is his only response.

It’s obvious he wants you to continue. This was a safer topic than your mother, so you yield to his piqued interest. “I like watching the swans. They were here earlier, but I think you scared them off.” Your eyes slide over to him slyly.

He scoffs, looking insulted. “The swans probably left because they were scared you’d mace them.”

You whirl on him, poking a finger into his chest. “The swans don’t lurk in the bushes at the park like a weirdo.”

His expression is unimpressed, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “No one was lurking. Besides,” He grabs the finger directed at him gently, guiding it down to your side. “You don’t make a good damsel in distress. Anyone trying to steal you would just bring you back when they figured out how mean you are.”

“I’ve been nothing but cordial.” You sniff, brows furrowing at him.

His smirk is a little overwhelming. “If this is you on your “Nice” setting, I’d hate to see you pissed off.”

“Stop pushing your luck, then.” You respond dryly. He throws his head back to laugh, and the sound makes you feel warmer in your coat.

You turn back to the pond, giving up on seeing the swans again tonight. You probably need to head home, anyways- you were expected at this stupid party, and suffering through it would be better than dealing with your mother’s nagging if you were absent. You let out a soft sigh, resigned to your fate.

“I should go.” You say to no one in particular.

You feel Noah’s eyes on you again. “Hey, don’t let me run you off. I can go if I’m bothering you-”

You shake your head, body turning to face him before you realize you’re moving. “No, it’s not you- really.” You offer what you hope is a kind smile. “I’m expected somewhere. My mother will be horribly cross with me if I’m not there.”

He’s giving you an understanding smile, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Sounds like a real rager. Will I, uh-” He glances down at his shoes, kicking at the snow before continuing, “Will I get to see you again?”

The question genuinely startles you. You assumed your demeanor (and mace) would be off-putting enough for him to be quite happy not speaking to you from this moment forward, but he… wanted to see you again?

“I mean,” You stammer, unable to find your words, “I’ll be around. At the park. If you’re also around.”

When he looks up, his face is alight. “Okay, yeah. I’ll also be around. Near the swans.”

A grin sneaks its way onto your face, unbeknownst to you. “Yeah, near the swans.” You avert your gaze, needing to look anywhere but at his hopeful expression. “See ya, Noah.”

He calls out a goodbye, but you’ve already scurried past him, the heels of your boots clicking rapidly against the sidewalk as you make your escape. You don’t dare glance back.

Your home is a few minutes away, shorter than usual given the fact that you’re practically jogging through the winter night. By the time you’ve shut your front door behind you, you’re out of breath, chest rising and falling heavily.

Your mother appears from the kitchen, her usual expression of passive annoyance plastered on her face. She calls your name, as if she needs to get your attention when you’re the only two people in the room. “Where have you been? It’s been snowing for half an hour, you’re going to catch a cold. And your boots are covered in mud- for heaven’s sake, really, we need to leave soon. Why are you grinning like that?”

You don’t register the smile on your face, still panting. Schooling your features into neutrality, you mutter out a quick, “I’m going to change clothes, be down in a sec.”

She’s ranting about punctuality and manners, but you barely hear it as you run up the stairs, grin overcoming your features once more as you think about dark eyes and soft smiles.

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #cowpokeomens

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queers-gambit · 2 years

Text

One Sunrise at a Time

prompt: you have news for your husband.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.4k+

note: last in the series, my heart. got a thing for making 'bad boys' simps for their ladies - that's great shit right there. author has had too much coffee and can feel her heartbeat in her eyes.

warnings: cursing, mild angst, Daemon's a shitty husband and a dumb boy, but he's also a simp so super OC!Daemon, um, more baby-making smut, talk of difficult fertility journey, let's all run away from our problems.

previous: part five: Bright Light

Three years after your wedding night, and you still had not given your husband an heir; leaving a small divide between you both. You knew it stung at his pride that his seed will not take, and you grew worried that you were past your prime to bare children; where you both felt an obligation each month to couple, wait for results, and speak little.

By every God did it drive you insane. You wanted to be close to him, but Dameon busied himself while you took up post as 'Master of Whispers' for the King.

After 'the incident' that followed rumor of her virginity, he took your ear often to speak worries to you. And the young servants and orphans of the city passed word to you of their findings, dubbing them your Little Birds that like to tweet in your ear. You filtered what passed unto the King, wanting to take your Lord husband's ear, but was scarce in his appearance, and little did you get to his counsel.

However, you remained in Kings Landing for those three years, and you could tell it was wearing at Daemon's already limited patience. You passed time with Princess Rhaenyra, who you became quite close to in your time, and during court season, you still sponsored your step-sons; adamant on finding them suitable wives.

This season was going favorably, and Kase was courting Lord Stark's second daughter while Jamie was courting the young, but beautiful, (only) Lady Caldwell. You heard nothing from the Ladies Aline and Jocey, but you worried not for them, because Kase gave you every update possible. He liked taking afternoon teas with you, and you knew you'd miss him most.

"Mother!" Kase grinned, finding you in the gardens. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Oh, whatever for, my dear boy?" you asked gently, knowing damn well what the lad wanted.

"Might you... Accompany me?"

"Where?"

"Into the city," he nodded with a growing grin, bouncing on his toes to swish his long, dark hair around his face. "I need to visit the jeweler."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to propose," he grinned, making you giggle and clap your hands.

"Oh, my boy! This is so exciting!"

"Oh! Isn't it!" He beamed with you, taking your hands tightly in his. "And I need your help picking a ring, mother."

"Yeah?"

"Please?"

"Of course," you nodded, "just let me stop off at my chambers, I will get money for the ring."

"No, I've plenty - "

"No, no, you're going to let me pay, and we're not going to let expense be a barrier. Please, I will do the same for Jamie," you whined. "'S no fun being a Princess if I can't spoil you."

Kase nodded, "Let us go now, I want to be back by sunset."

"When are you doing it? When are you asking?"

"I'm asking her father for permission tonight, I want to show Lord Stark the ring first. You know, show I can provide for his beloved daughter," he explained, making you nod with understanding. His arm was then offered to you as escort, whisking you away to your chambers, and when you both burst through the door in a fit of giggles, he straightened up first.

Your eyes cut over to see Daemon idling by a table, the Grand Maester at his side. "Oh, right," you breathed, turning to Kase, "love, go to the foyer, I'll meet you there in a few moments."

"Are you sure?"

"I forgot, but this is a prior commitment," you smiled, giving his forearm a squeeze. "Go on, I'll be right there."

"I'll wait with the guards," he nodded with assurance, offering a nod to the Grand Maester. Then, "Prince Daemon," and he was bowing out of the room, closing it behind him.

You sighed gently, nearing the pair with your fingers twiddling nervously. "Is there any change?" You asked diplomatically to the Maester.

His old eyes shot between both you and your husband, "Well, I ran the tests, just as I usually do..."

"Is there any change?" You repeated firmly.

"No, Princess. Not this month, apparently..."

"Right," you nodded, waving him off, "then we are adjourned. Something is... Wrong with my womb," you hesitated to admit, feeling jarred by the notion as Daemon would not meet your eyes. So, you stared at the quivering Maester.

"Well, we could try other methods," the Grand Maester explained, making your throat bob. "I can bring a list of options later, or we can go over them now, if either of you are prepared to hear them?"

"No, later will be fine," you assured, sniffling after, and clearing your throat. "Thank you, Grand Maester, again... That will be all, thank you," You moved for the door, opening it with meaning; the old man glancing at your husband, who remained quiet, and did not look up from the table's top.

"My Prince," the Grand Maester nodded, shuffling out of the room, "Princess."

"Thank you," you whispered again, the door shutting firmly after. You did not look at Daemon as you moved for the safe you kept, drawing a velvet draw-string bag of Gold Dragons to your possession as Daemon remained stoically still.

"Where are you going with that?" He asked, eyeing you wearily.

"We agreed to pay for Kase and Jamie's engagement rings, did we not?" You asked gently.

"Right," he nodded. "Kase is ready then, is he?"

"He is."

"Right..."

You paused before deciding on changing your shoes, finally bucking up the courage to speak as you did so, "I'm sorry, you know."

"What for?"

"For being unable to give you a child," you admitted meekly, staring at the laces you did up tightly. "I did not - if I knew, I would not have - I would not have married you."

"No?"

"No," you answered definitively, tying off the laces of your boots before standing and settling your purse to your person. "I will understand if you do not wish to continue this marriage with me, as you were anticipating a healthy, functioning wife."

Your bitter, vile words marred your face as you hastened for the door, but his hands were like a stranger's grabbing your upper arm. You gasped lightly as you turned almost in shock, back against the door as he looked down at you with something akin to anger.

"Why do you speak such words?" He asked in High Valyrian.

"Because it's true, isn't it?"

"You are deeply mistaken," he shook his head, "because nothing about your ability to bare me children has ever influenced my want to marry you."

"That is laughable, for you fuck me like it's a chore, barely share my bed, only half-way look at me, and have been avoiding me like-like-like the plague, or something! As if I have Grey Scale!" You emotions tipped and tears filled your eyes, cascading past your waterline. "As if your mind is far from your body, and Gods only know where that is!"

"Sweetheart - "

"No, I needed you!" You sobbed. "I needed my husband, and it was like you couldn't even look at me! Be in a room with me! Share my bed - hold me in your arms! My God, Daemon, when was the last time you told me you loved me?"

His mouth opened before his brows furrowed, expression falling, "I fear I do not know."

"See?" You sniffled. "It's like I am not here, like we are not truly married, and my heart hurts, Daemon. I do not want this for us, so, if this is the grounds you use, being that I am barren, then use it, and cut us both free. I'm sorry. I really am, Daemon, please, I did not intend for this to happen. I did not know."

"Please, do not apologize to me, and let me offer my own," he shook his head, shame taking his features. "I have no excuse for myself - "

"Are you here now?" You begged.

"Yes," he swore.

"Then come with us to pick a ring, spend the day with me, please. I miss you so much, I am so fucking sad and by Gods, do I feel so alone."

"No, I am here now, pet," he promised. "I'm so sorry I was absent, but I'm here, I'm with you. I'm so sorry. Fuck, my dove, I'm sorry you feel alone."

"I'm sorry I'm not pregnant," you whispered, your hands moving to press to your empty womb; his hands laying over yours.

"No matter what is to pass, you are everything I need, and more. Everything I need, all I have ever wanted. Look at me, please," he asked quietly, forehead resting on yours as your eyes slowly rose - forcing them apart. "I have loved you everyday I've known you, and nothing will change that. No child will make me care more or less for you, because you're perfect for me, poppet."

"I don't want to be alone..."

"We will never be alone," he promised, kissing your forehead. "The Grand Maester will bring us options..."

"I want to give you a natural child," you whimpered.

"The Gods will decide, but for now... I could stand taking my duties as husband a little more seriously. You have felt unloved and I took vows to never let you go a day like that - I will resolve this."

You nodded, lifting your hands to pet over his chest, "Please just stay with me today. I feel like a fucking failure - not only as a wife, but as a woman."

"You are fare from a failure," he swore, switching back to the Common Tongue to prove how serious his words were.

"Then why can I not give you a child?"

"Because the Gods have not deemed it so," he sighed. "I am disappointed, yes, but nothing makes me love you less. I'm sorry I've neglected you."

"Be with me now, maybe buy me something pretty, and all is forgiven."

"Deal," he agreed with a small chuckle, sliding his hand over your cheek. "I love you. Fuck, dove, I love you so much."

You nodded, tears still falling, "I love you, too. So much so, Daemon, that being away from you hurts. As annoying and pathetic as that might be."

"Hey, no," he hushed you gently. "Never again will you know that pain for I will not be the cause of it any longer," he promised, pressing a searing-hot kiss to your salty wet lips. "Now, when is Jamie proposing?"

"I don't know yet, we're worrying about Kase today," you nodded, nuzzling your nose to his.

So lead to Daemon preparing for your day, lacing your fingers together as he escorted you to the foyer. Kase was waiting patiently, smirking when he saw the pair of you approach, "Ha! I knew it."

"What?"

"That he would be joining us," Kase grinned now. "Everything's good now?"

"Yes, we are resolved," you assured. "And we're dedicated to finding you a ring, so, shall we?"

He sighed, "She deserves something pretty. You know?"

"Pretty is a great start," you smirked, Daemon's hand tightening. "It's what Daemon's going for today, too."

"Yeah? You're in the market?" Kase wondered.

"For anything my wife wants," Daemon nodded, leading the way out of the Red Keep. "She's been without something new for far too long."

"I want to be able to do that," Kase sighed. "Like, my wife's sad? I can just up and buy her a new ring, or necklace, or whatever, and she's okay."

"In all honesty, I'd be happy with flowers from the gardens," you chuckled, "but my husband is dramatic, Kase, and likes to spend money."

"Only on you," he assured, tugging you in closer. "So, Kase, any idea where to start?"

"Something shiny?"

"Oh, he's helpless," your husband teased, to the enjoyment of your step-son.

"So, tell me," Kase muttered when you finally stepped off castle grounds - half a dozen Gold Cloaks at your flank, "what news did the Maester bring?"

"I am not pregnant," you admitted with indignation, trying to remain passive - as if this whole situation didn't cause your skin to crawl.

"Yet," Daemon tacked on with encouragement, "because in truth, lad," he told Kase, "I have not been as diligent in my duties as a husband as I should be."

"Meaning?"

"We don't fuck nearly enough - but that is set to change," he eased with a smirk; you hand smacking his stomach playfully.

"Well, you actually don't spend any time with me," you pointed out, feeling silly admitting it aloud. "Might we... I don't know, move along to another subject? How are matters with the Lady Stark, Kase?"

"Well, Jamie and I spoke of it, and if the Ladies agreed to it, have a duel wedding here with you before we return home. My Lady's father gifted her a small stead near Winterfell... I think we might move there after the ceremony."

"And Jamie?"

"Would still be Lord, only, married, and no longer in the capital," Kase paused to consider, "with very little reason to return to this city."

Pointing that out seemed to set you off some, though you did not let it show. The idea was that both lads were to marry this season, and Daemon was antsy to escape Kings Landing for across the Narrow Sea seemed like a terribly convenient coincidence. Daemon's been more than gracious to let you linger as you did, but now that the truth was tangibly verbalized about your boys leaving and not returning, Gods, did it sting!

Daemon and Kase asked one another a few questions back and forth in further effort to know one another, your feet and lower back starting to ache. Perhaps you were to start your cycle soon...

Time through the city drug only because it was evident Kase was 'forcing' time between you and your husband by going the long routes through market stalls. By the time you arrived at the jewelers, all 6 Gold Cloaks were holding items bought because you had so simply as 'gazed fondly at it.'

And he was even worse in the jeweler, though you talked him down to only one item - be it a ring, or heavy necklace, so solid gem broach... With reluctance, Dameon agreed, and the pair of you focused on helping Kase make his decisions. Your husband advised he simply go with whatever spoke to his heart, but it was evident the lad was becoming overwhelmed.

So, you stepped up, and together, pieced together what he thought would be suitable for his bride-to-be. Daemon watched with a smirk, gazing over other options for anything he found intriguing for you, but paused when Kase exclaimed, "AH-HA! YES!"

"Kase!" You scolded.

"Sorry, sorry," he winced, looking from you, to the jeweler, then to Daemon, "sorry. I just... I think I found the one!"

"Let's see it, lad," Daemon nodded, clasping the young Lord's shoulder and looking at what he held. "Befitting for a young woman so beautiful as your bride. It will do nicely - yes, we'll take it," he assured the salesman.

"Gems are imported from Qaarth."

"Where before?" You wondered.

"No idea," the man admitted. "But it's real nice, yeah?"

"It is, please, set it aside for us," you nodded to the man, then pointed to a pretty, solid gold necklace that held a plaque that looked as if it could be carved into. "And might I see that, please?"

"Course," the man mumbled, and the necklace was produced for your hands to examine.

"If I gave you script, could you engrave this for me?"

"Anything you'd like, Princess," he nodded in agreement.

"I'll send the instructions with a lad later," you smiled. "We'd like those two items - might we settle the debt now?"

"If you'd like, of course."

"I'd like to, yes," you nodded from the salesman to your Lord husband. "Daemon? Love?"

"Right," he sighed, pulling the money pouch from his belt after fearing that if you carried it, it would encourage violence against you. "What's the number then?"

As the two talked price, Kase was beaming as he examined his ring choice - glancing at you, and making you prompt, "She'll be blown away."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm," you assured. "It's a beautiful selection, she's going to just die when she sees it. And her father will not think you lowly, but capable of providing for his daughter."

"But what if... What if I can't?" Kase mumbled, turning to you. "What if I screw up so bad, it can't be fixed, and she leaves me - or whatever have you!? I fear I am only a second son and hold no land or titles, but that my brother does, and so long as he draws breath, I have nothing..."

"Kase..."

"No, no, just that I want to be with the Lady Stark - even on her homestead, if it means being away from you all... But what if I ruin it?"

"You won't," you spoke with assurance.

"So quick to - "

"I know you, Kase, get out of your head," you advised as Daemon paid that debt owed. Kase sighed and thanked the jeweler, following Daemon from the shop, after you.

The entire walk back through town, Kase worried he wasn't good enough for Lady Stark - and Daemon was far too amused when the boy asked him for help. Daemon's solution? To take the lad to a tavern, but you weren't sure.

"C'mon, Mum, it'll cap off a great day," Kase encouraged. "And we can get drunk! It's a win-win!"

You chuckled, "You're aware of what we've on our person?"

"Yes, yes, but no one would dare cross the Prince of the City!"

Heaving a sigh, you glanced around to the Gold Cloaks. "Can we trust you to bring this all back to our chamber and lock the door?" You asked them, handing over the engagement ring but Kase lunged for it.

"Wait!"

"Oh, hell no," you snapped, taking the ring and pointing a warning finger, "I've been to enough taverns in my life to watch men gamble away whatever be in their pockets - and I will not jeopardize this ring! It's going to our room to be locked up, hmm?"

"Well," he looked nervous.

"I trust these men," Daemon nodded, "and if they choose to steal from us, or to vary from whatever my wife asks, they know the extent to which I will take to punish them."

"Oh, Daemon," you swatted at him, "you do not need to threaten everyone!"

"How would they know I'm serious?"

You sighed, handing the ring over. "Please?"

"Of course, Princess," one of the guardsman assured. "You've a key?"

"Yes, you can lock it, I've a way in for us," you smiled lightly, nodding as they took their leave. "Are we sure?" You asked Kase and Daemon.

"About the tavern? Yes - c'mon," Kase groaned, tugging you forward as Daemon quickly swooped in behind you. The tavern was relatively lively for the middle of the afternoon, but you were not one to offer judgement as Daemon was greeted calmly, happily...

Like you would a friend.

Your hand found his quickly out of nervousness, lacing together as Kase went for the bar to open a tab and Daemon secured a table by shooing off the residents of the back corner booth.

"Look here, position is everything," he mumbled, guiding you into a seat with him beside you; stuck like glue, "and from here we've the advantage."

"Should we even be here?"

"We're all right," he assured softly. "But if you are uncomfortable, my dove, we will leave."

"No," you sighed, peering around him to the bar, spying Kase talking with animation to the bartender, "he looks excited. But do you frequent this bar?"

"I do," he nodded. "'S why I brought us here, the security is under my payment right now... But I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What would that be?"

His fingers gently pinched your chin, sighing almost sadly, "How would you feel about leaving Westeros?"

"Not just Kings Landing?"

He nodded, "I'd take us across the Narrow Sea."

"Oh," you breathed, nodding slowly. "Well, that's something... When do you want to leave?"

"After the lads are married, so, the end of the season?"

You worried slightly, "Is that enough time?"

"We've three months, dove," he nodded, petting down your cheek, "and in truth, we've no more attachments here... Let us leave," he breathed against your lips, puckering his to kiss you. "Let us be done, we'll get away from the city."

"See the world?" You smirked some.

"I'll take you wherever you want to go," he nodded. "Maybe getting away from the city will give us the stress-free environment we'll need to conceive a child."

"You think that's our issue?" You sighed, lacing your hand with his to lean your chin on his shoulder. His own head tilted to caress your forehead.

"Perhaps," he alluded, "but we still have to hear the Maester out."

"Right..."

"Come on, pet, there's hope still," he nodded, kissing your forehead. "And perhaps we see the world instead," he chuckled some, "I don't think I'd mind that. Traveling the world with you?"

"What if we have children?"

"Hey?"

"Wouldn't you want your children to have dragon eggs?"

He sighed, "We can talk logistics later, but yes, I would... It is their birth right," one of his arms was around your back, the other flattening his palm to your stomach. "The Gods will bless us one day."

"But no harm in practicing?" You teased, leaning up to peck his lips quickly. "I fear it's been too long since I've loved you properly, husband."

"Make that my burden," he shook his head, glancing up as his hips shifted when one of your hands laid on his thigh, "and I will make it up to you when we get back - ah!" He hissed when you boldly palmed his crotch before casually settling your arms at his hips when Kase returned to the table, carrying two jugs of ale and three cups stacked on his head. "Devilish woman," he mocked in your ear.

"Here, here!" Kase laughed, setting the jugs down as he dodged around to keep the cups on his head.

"Kase - good Gods!" You laughed, helping him.

"C'mon, we're here for a good time," he laughed in return.

"Are you drunk already?" Daemon perked a stoic brow, but you saw the mischief stretch across his face as a smirk.

"Yes," Kase nodded rapidly, pouring the ale for you all. "The lads at the bar were happy to hear of my impending engagement!"

"Oh, sweetheart," you chuckled lightly, giving Daemon's thigh a squeeze - making him jolt a bit - but Kase didn't notice because you asked, "sure they weren't hitting on you?"

"Really? On me?" He gaped, taking his seat finally, gulping his ale. "No, no, no, it was... No, it was harmless!"

"Mhm," you smirked.

"They were kindly!"

"Okay, okay!" You relented, "So, we are celebrating this afternoon. Is there something you want to talk about?"

"Yes," he slurred, "why won't her father give his permission?"

"Wait," you perked up, "did you already ask?"

"Mhm, weeks ago," he waved off between gulps of mind-numbing-ale. "But he said no, but let me continue to court her... So, I thought the ring would show I am the man for her!"

"Oh, wow," you nodded from under Daemon's arm now tossed around your shoulders, "well, that's, uh... Wow..."

"Lad, you've nothing to worry over," Daemon assured, "because there is no other for his daughter, hey? Obviously it is a love-match, and she is adamant on her end that he's not been able to force her to court others. He will not limit his daughter's happiness, yet I would argue you were smart in thinking the ring would help."

"You think it will?"

"Yes," Daemon nodded.

"Hmm," he considered, skulling his drink in full. Daemon chuckled in your ear, nuzzling into your neck, as if three years of slowly drifting apart hadn't been overcome in an afternoon at the jewelers. Your mind began to drift with ideas of how to get him back, and as Kase was enraptured with telling a story, you started to slowly palm Daemon's growing bulge. You felt his thighs tighten, but his throat bobbed to keep his cool - eyes set on Kase's overly animated storytelling movements.

"Dove," Daemon warned under his breath when you pulled the strings of his trousers loose.

"Sh," you cooed, sliding your fingers along his girth to reposition and give a few slow tugs with the table being the only cover between his bare cock and prying eyes.

His breathing shifted but he kept his cool, your hand needing to keep at an angle to protect his cock from the under belly of the table. Kase had shifted his attention half to those who would listen, Daemon's jaw steeling - hips sinking into the seat to keep from bucking. "Oh, fuck," he whispered, stifling a groan.

"Good boy," you purred, giving his shaft a squeeze as his tip leaked. "Always a good boy for me, hmm?"

"Yes," he panted, head bowed to yours again - and to anyone looking over, they would think twice about bothering you. "Just for you."

"Don't cum, save it for my cunt," you switched your tongue to High Valyrian. "Hold it, my Prince."

"Enough," he growled, literally smacking your hand away and instantly tucking himself back into his trousers. Nobody paid you any mind as he stood and gathered you from the booth, then hoisting Kase's arm over his shoulders. "Come on," he told you, "hold onto me."

Your hand latched onto his belt as he had full-hold of Kase. The tavern had grown in patron numbers, forcing a part in the crowd for you as you moved. On the street, Kase started singing, and Daemon kept a wobbly hold on him. When you return to the Keep, luckily, you didn't run into anyone important on your way to deposit the Lord in his chambers - you returning to your chambers, and finding the door locked and all the shopping left in the room.

Good, everything was where it should be.

You were sorting through the day's shopping when Daemon returned, who was then instantly on you with his mouth open to your neck; hands bunching up your skirts as his swollen cock was rutted into the round of your arse.

"Daemon," you gasped, hands bracing on the mattress of your bed as he finally gained access to your cunt, groaning in satisfaction when his fingers met your wet hole.

"I need this," he panted, yanking his cock free to run up and down your slick, and then push in. You both gasped in relief, your chest falling to the bed as his pressed to your back; humping into you as you let him take you as he wanted. "Wanted you in my mouth first but fuck - I couldn't wait."

"Harder, Daddy," you begged, clutching your sheets with desperation.

"Yeah, that's right, fucking beg for me," he encouraged, lifting off of your to piston his hips almost painfully. "Yes, my dove, fuck, take it all. Make me a Daddy, please, please, dove. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck - "

"Fucking cum in me, please," you begged, "I need it - I need to be full."

"Keep talking."

"Let me make you a Daddy, please," you yelped, whining into the sheets before yelping when his hand slapped over your arse cheek. "Fuck me harder, please, I need it so bad!"

"Take it then," He barked, one foot up on the mattress for leverage, hands wrapped around your neck and into your hair. You whined wantonly as he grit his teeth and jack-hammered forward into you with desperation. "FUCK!"

He came with a shout, coming to a standstill as his balls emptied into you; leaving him to rut boyishly into you as his lungs stuttered for air. You were panting as well, letting one elbow hold you up as the other reached up to pet over his cheek. "Someone can't last like before, hey?"

"Oh, you wicked woman," he laughed lightly, breath fanning across the back of your neck before his face was nuzzling there. "Got me worked up in public - I'm surprised I lasted that long." You laughed in return, your legs shaking slightly. "On the bed, pet. I don't want you off it for the next few days."

"Daemon," you whined when he pulled out of you suddenly, legs giving way with a small whoop of surprise.

"I got you," he rushed, catching your body; arms tight around your waist to gently pull you up with him. "Easy," he smirked, "if you're feeling it now, you're in for a long weekend, my dove."

"Gods," you laughed, pulling yourself onto the mattress. "You know, we're going to have to talk..." He sighed when you turned to face him, his fists propping him up on either side of your hips. "Can't just hump our way through this."

"We can't?"

"Daemon."

"I know," he sighed, dropping his forehead to the crook of your neck. "But what is there to say? Besides I am sorry..."

"I fear that if we leave, you will become distracted. My love, we do not have allies outside the Capital City, and I could not bare your same behavior in strange lands."

He sighed, pausing to pull back and pull the rest of his clothes off; stepping out of his boots, too, before reaching for you. He focused on pulling your dress and boots off, almost weakly palming your bare breast before speaking, "I have not been a very good husband, and I know that now, and I cannot apologize enough. But I can try to rectify the situation, and to do that, I suppose I could try harder to prove I love you."

"I know you do," you sighed, leaning back to your pillows, guiding him with you as you took under the covers. "But what happened to us?"

He sighed, deflating into the pillows beside you and pulling you into his chest. "In truth, pet... I fear it is me who is the problem of our infertility..."

"What?" You wondered, looking up at him, confusion knitting your brows together.

He sighed, "Ah, my dove... There are written accounts that sometimes, fertility issues do not fall upon the woman only. Sometimes... It can be the man who struggles to sire an heir."

"Oh," you breathed, pushing further into his embrace. "No, my love, I do not think it's you."

"No - "

"Love, look at me," you frowned, titling his head down towards you. "Sometimes, when a woman takes Moon Tea for an extended period of time, it can... I don't know, alter the state of her womb."

Daemon winced, "If I waited, you wouldn't ever have had need to take the tea..."

"Okay, are we going to go in circles about who's fault this is? Or accept it for reality?" You sighed. "What're we going to do if we don't have a family - and what if we do?"

"It's to be figured out as we go," he sighed against your forehead; cradling you closer. "I just want us gone from the City, my dove."

You sighed, "Then swear to me that you will not put me through this again."

"I'm going to show you I can be the man who deserves you," he swore, leaning in to nuzzle your nose. "No talk of dramatic means; I am yours, and you are mine."

"Would you be honest with me?"

"Of course."

"Have you been visiting the taverns and brothels?"

"Only the taverns," he frowned. "There's been many a night I find myself waking in the stable after drinking far too much."

"Ah, sweetheart..."

"I know," He groaned lightly, readjusting. "Come, nap with me."

You pouted lightly, "You don't want to fuck me again?"

His head, which was settling on your chest, shot up in shock as he eyed you almost wearily. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"Fuck," he whispered, leaning up to latch his mouth onto your own - leading into another frenzied baby-making session.

Months later, you had married both of your step-sons off, and within days, Daemon had approached you regarding your departure.

He made no move to explain to his family where he was heading, choosing to instead latch your shared belongings to Caraxes' saddle as if to just disappear. But as fate would have it, when you approached him with confidence to hand off the last of your rucksacks, you were startled when Caraxes swung his head around to look at you with a great, heaving, cocking-with-curiosity head.

"D-Daemon?" You worried, hands held up in defense as the dragon's muzzle neared you; giving a great heave against your stomach. "Daemon, what is happening? What's he doin', love? Oh, this feels strange, what do I do!?"

"It's all right, you're all right," Daemon soothed, coming behind you to pose as a backboard as the scaly beast nuzzled into you. The power behind the movements jostled you some, but against your husband's chest, you were better secured.

"What's he doing?" You wondered again with greater fear.

Daemon's hands moved to hold over your hips, peering over your shoulder to watch the great beast breath against your belly. "Dove?"

"Hmm?" Your hands were still held up in defense.

"Have you bled this month?"

You paused, glancing up at him slowly, "Not to my knowledge."

"Last month?"

"No... I don't think I remember my last cycle," you admitted, looking up at him with widened eyes. "Does this mean what I think?"

"He's protective of you," he pointed out, sighing after. "No use in getting our hopes up right now. You've been to the Maester, yes?"

"Yes," you nodded, Caraxes growling when Daemon tried to pull you back. "O-Oh, okay," you sighed, gently holding his head to placate the beast, "okay, all right. Shh, shh. Okay, there yah go."

Daemon finished tacking the saddle, watching the pair of you for a moment longer than he would've usually allowed. Something stirred in his gut, and for some reason, he pondered, "What if we left in the morning?"

"Daemon," you sighed, "a single night makes no difference. We want to cross the Sea before night fall, yes?"

He nodded, "One last night here..."

"What are you hoping to achieve?"

Daemon again neared you, glancing up at Caraxes, whilst the beast purred. "There is a feeling I cannot shake."

"What feeling?"

"That we are missing something."

"Not per se," you sighed, patting the underside of the dragon's chin. "What do you think we're missing, love?"

Your eyes closed when Daemon's forehead met your temple, a beat passing, before he admitted, "An egg..." His hand slid across your lower belly to cradle it, "for the babe?"

"Daemon, you just - I'm not - look," you sighed through your nose, feeling frustrated, "it's been over three years, and it's not happened. Perhaps we just let nature take course, yes? Stop trying so bloody hard?"

He sighed, dare you say it, sadly.

"Give us tonight... Let me search for any eggs Syrax might be hoarding..."

You sighed, shifting on your feet. "Everything's packed already."

"We'll make do for the night," he tried.

"If I agree, might I go nap? Or do you want me with you?"

"No, you go rest," he nodded, pressing a kiss to your temple. Yet when he let go, Caraxes whined and had to be held at bay while you made your way back to the Keep. Though, while Demon descended into the Dragon's Lair, you rushed for the Maester's chambers to pound rapidly.

"Princess!" He gasped when he opened the door to your tearful face.

"I-I need another test, Maester..."

"My Lady, it has been months since our last exam - "

"Hence why I need one now," you frowned, wiping your cheeks of tears. "Please."

"Of course, come in, come in," he ushered you, moving about his chambers to prepare his tools and herbs. You gave urine, blood, and spit; waiting impatiently as the Maester prodded around your stomach, ran his tests...

And by the end, he was blinking in near shock. "Well?" You demanded, exhausted by the long day of tests - but you knew Daemon would not be back for hours more.

How wrong you were - but first, the Maester turned with tears in his aged eyes. "M-My Princess... You are with child - without a doubt. I'd wager some eight or nine weeks in? Perhaps ten," he nodded, consulting his exam results. "Yes, just shy of three months, probably when we stopped our exams, yes, yes... Have you had symptoms?"

"I don't... Know?"

"All right," he sighed, "your blood?"

"I cannot remember my last cycle," you admitted with a nod.

"Hunger?"

"Some," you shrugged.

"Mood swings?"

"Well, perhaps no more than usual..."

"And have you any pain in your breasts?"

Sighing, you shrugged, "They are tender, yes, but that's not..."

"It is," he nodded softly. "But I'd wager you're ten weeks in, you'll start to notice your belly swelling soon."

You blinked a few times, "You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I'm pregnant...?"

"You are."

"I'm gonna have a baby?"

"Finally," he teased gently, smiling brightly at you. "What joyous news, Princess."

"Well... I... I do not know what to say," you whispered, feeling panic swell in your chest. "M-Might you send for my handmaiden? H-Her name's Mary, please, Maester, I am feeling overwhelmed."

"Just breathe," he nodded, moving for the door to send for Mary. As you waited, he lead you through breathing exercises; trying to quell your worry before Mary was bursting through the door.

"What's this?" She worried, rushing forward.

"I-I am pregnant," you told her, taking her hands tightly, "an-and I fear I am panicking."

"Do you want me to get your husband?"

"He's in the Dragon's Lair."

"No? I swore I saw him making for your room," she cocked her head, squeezing your hands. "Why are you panicking?"

"B-Because I am not - I do not - for fuck's sake, I don't know in full, but I am scared."

"Of what - "

"Of the birth!" You yelped, tears filling your eyes. "My Gods, they whisper about the Targaryen Curse but I thought it was just me - and that I could not bare children. But now... Fuck's sake."

"Okay, breathe," the Grand Maester advised. "This stress is not good for the baby, you'll have to take that into account the next few months, as you grow the babe."

"Fuck's sake," you snapped as you wept, latching onto Mary as she shot a glare at the Maester.

"Yes, okay, thank you!" She snapped, waving him off. "My Lady, listen to me," she sighed softly, caressing you in comfort, "you are not of Targaryen blood, and that can yet work in your favor when carrying a Targaryen child. Ease your mind, my Lady, you are not doing yourself favors with this stress."

You tried to calm down, but she was still petting your hair as you wept. But then, something in your mind snapped in place, "D-Did you say you saw my husband?"

"Yes, on my way here," she nodded.

"All right," you sniffled and wiped your face, "I-I need to go to him."

"Go," she encouraged, "but allow me to be the first to say - holy fucking shit! You're pregnant! Oh, my Gods, I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!"

You giggled lightly and hugged her tightly, letting her yank you off the exam table to lightly hop around in an excited hug. "I am blessed," you whispered into the hug. "Thank you, my friend."

"Truly!" She squealed. "Oh, no, but does this mean you're still leaving?"

"Let's find out," you breathed, squeezing her hands and moving for the door after. She held your hand as you moved for your chambers, but before you got there, she let go and insisted you talk to your husband alone. With tears in your eyes, you pushed the door to your chambers open, calling, "Daemon?"

"Dove?" He answered from the chair resting at the table's edge, his wrist flourishing as he wrote on parchment, almost sighing with relief. "Where have you been?" He glanced at you. "Thought you were napping, and I come here, you're not in bed."

"I've been - "

"Never mind that! Why are you crying!? Who did it?" He demanded, jumping to his feet and trying to take your face in his hands.

"Why're your hands covered in ash?" You dodged, holding his wrists, easing him back into the chair. "Did you find an egg, my love?"

"I did," he breathed, grinning shyly.

"Good," you nodded while blinking rapidly down at him, gently caressing the side of his cheek to pull his gaze up to meet yours, "because it will lie in our child's crib, finally."

His gaze met yours slowly before realization coated his features, almost gaping at you, "Truly?"

"Daemon," you spoke slowly, taking either of his hands in your own to pull them to rest on your waist, "we're going to have a baby."

"You're pregnant?"

"I'd like to think we are, but yes, I am pregnant."

"Finally," he breathed, leaning forward to caress your stomach with a grin, laughing some after. "Oh, thank the Gods - well, no, thank you, my beautiful wife."

You smiled and caressed his head, keeping him close as he leaned back a little; arms tight round you, legs spreading, and keeping you set between them. He sighed deeply, nuzzling your belly.

"A blessing, is it not?"

"It is," you whispered, petting down his neck. "See what happens when we don't try so hard?"

He chuckled, his breath felt across your lower tummy. "Oh, my sweet wife... How I celebrate you."

"How I celebrate us," you smirked.

He gave a gentle nibble to your belly before lifting his gaze; chin laid to your stomach with his arms tightly around your hips to keep you in place. "I love you, thank you for this. I-I don't know what else to say."

"We've a long way to go, you might not be thanking me yet," you chuckled nervously, but Daemon saw through you. He sighed and leaned back more, guiding you to his lap to sit.

"What is it, sweet girl? Hmm? What's on your pretty little mind?"

You frowned a bit, leaning into his shoulder to caress his cheek and jaw; lowering your voice to mumble into his skin, "I am afraid."

"Of?"

"The birthing..."

"Ah," he sighed, tightening his hold on you. "I see... I will ensure the best midwives and Maesters are at your chambers."

"I need only one promise from you."

"You need only ask it."

"You'll be there with me. In the room, even. You will not leave me to do this alone..."

Daemon tightened his grip on you, pressing a kiss to the column of your neck. "You will not be alone, pet. Never in this. I am here with you, and I will be here until the end. You will not be apart from me, and I will not leave you alone in this."

"Thank you," you whispered, holding onto him tightly. He sighed lightly, nuzzling into your neck as tears surfaced. "I'm scared, Daemon."

"I've got you," he assured, tightening his hold. "You're not alone, dove. Not now or ever, I'm so sorry, pet, for how I was before. But it's gonna be different," he whispered, kissing at your jaw after, "I do swear this to you, my sweet wife, 's all gonna be so different."

You nodded, petting through his hair, "All right... All right, so, how about we go share the good news? Have one last dinner with family? And in the morning, we make for Pentos? Or Essos?"

He smirked, "It's a surprise first."

You sighed lightly, "Of course it is. What do you say?"

He sighed, nodding mutely. "A fantastic idea, dove, but let me bask in this moment first." Readjusting in his lap, you easily curled under his chin and let your eyes close. "I love you."

With a smile matching his, you swore, "I love you, too."

🍒 fin

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roses-r-rosie3 · 1 year

Text

Psycho

Ethan Landry x M!Reader

(Reader is Amber’s Brother)

Spoilers for scream 6!!!!!

Warnings: Angst, swearing, character death

Summary: Y/n finds out about what happened to Amber and Richie, and tells Ethan about it, Ethan tells his family about it, and they start to plan how to kill Sam and Tara

Y/n and Ethan met each other through Amber and Richie. Both boys started dating just like their siblings shortly after that.

Both Richie and Amber knew. They both thought it was kind of cute.

Y/n and his family went on a trip to Disneyland for a couple of weeks but Amber insisted on staying and taking care of the house. Little did the Freeman Family know that was the last time that they would see her alive.

When the Freeman family got back from the trip, they saw that their house was surrounded by police cars, ambulances, and reporters.

“Hey! hey! what’s happening!” Said Mrs Freeman. Y/n slipped inside of the house without the police noticing and saw his sister. He saw her charred body.

Y/n was angered. Who would do this to his sister. As he walked out of the house he saw Richie with his throat slit. After he got out of the house, the cops immediately put him back behind the tape.

“What? What did you see sweetie?” Asked Mr Freeman. “Amber… she’s dead” said y/n. His Mother and Father broke down when they heard the news. Y/n didn’t cry, he was angry. When he turned his head he saw Tara and Sam sitting inside of the ambulance. That lead y/n to believe that Tara and Sam were responsible for his sister’s death.

After all of the chaos was handled, y/n couldn’t stand staying in the house that his sister was killed in, so he decided to stay at a motel.

The motel was surprisingly cheap. As he sat on the bed he called Ethan.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” Said Ethan. Y/n Just started crying.

“Hey, hey, stop crying, what’s wrong?” Said Ethan.

“Amber and Richie… their dead…” said y/n. Ethan was in shock. Ethan got out of his bed and headed towards the living room, where Quinn and his dad were at. “Guy’s.. Richie and Amber died” said Ethan sorrowfully

“No- no- it can’t be” said Bailey. Bailey took the phone out of Ethan’s hands. “Y/n please tell me Ethan is joking!” Said Bailey who had tears in his eyes. “I- I’m sorry sir, but he isn’t” said y/n.

Bailey just started to cry as he hung up on y/n for Ethan.

A little while later Ethan called y/n again.

“Hey, uh, y/n, don’t overreact when I tell you this, but, would you be willing to kill Sam and Tara for what they did to Amber and Richie?” Said Ethan.

“Hell yeah, they are going to pay for what they did to them” said y/n.

Y/n tried to get his family to go along with the plans but when he told them, they called him psychotic and kicked him out. So he asked Ethan and his family if he could move in with them

Some time has passed and Quinn spread rumors about Sam being the real killer from the 2021 woodsboro massacre and tried to blame it on Richie and Amber. A while after that, they found out that the core4 were planning to move to New York.

When they found out, Bailey immediately moved to New York and got a job as a police officer.

After moving to New York and getting comfortable with the city, the group found out that the core4 were going to go to college at Blackmore university, so Ethan, Quinn, and y/n were quick to apply to that same university. And all three surprisingly got accepted.

After that y/n and Ethan found out how to room with Chad and Quinn answered Sam and Tara’s add to room with her. Everything was going perfectly.

Time skip to when Mindy is trying to guess who the killer is

“And then we have have y/n, the boyfriend of the shy dorky kid, who is the polar opposite of his boyfriend. With y/n’s loud personality, no offense, and Ethan’s dorkyness, they would make the perfect ghostface pair. And not to mention the fact that y/n and Ethan both roomed with Chad” said Mindy.

“Is she always like this” said y/n. Tara just shrugged her shoulder.

Time skip to the final act

“Behind you!” Said Kirby. All of a sudden another ghostface came out of nowhere and stabbed Kirby. While the ghostface that was going to “stab” Bailey stopped behind him. “Great job, all three of you” said Bailey.

“You?” Said Tara. “Ehhh, of course me, frankly I expected more from the two of you after what you did to us.

Skip to Quinn and Ethan unmasking themselves and they start to explain they are Richie’s family

“What about them? Why haven’t they unmasked themselves yet?” Said Sam looking at the 4th ghostface who kept their mask on the whole time while Bailey, Ethan, and Quinn were talking about how they were Richie’s family.

The fourth killer unmasked themself to be y/n.

“Surprise” said y/n.

“Y/n? But- you don’t look anything like them” said Sam.

“Oh I’m not Richie’s family” said y/n.

“Then why are you working with them” said Tara.

“Because I’m Amber’s brother” said y/n.

Tara’s heart dropped.

“Do you see the resemblance now?” Said y/n. “You burned my sister’s fucking face off and then you shoot her in the head” said y/n. “Now I’m going to make sure you endure the same pain that she did” said y/n.

Time skip a little later b/c this is already a long story

Tara was hanging onto the ledge as y/n was waiting for her.

“Come down Tara! I’m going to make sure to hit all the organs that Amber missed!” Laughed y/n.

“Let me go” said Tara. “Yeah let her go Sam!” Said y/n. Ethan spotted the knife that San gave Tara as he pushed y/n out of the way. That gave him the chance to stab Tara in the stomach.

When y/n got up he saw Tara pull a knife out of Ethan’s mouth. A little later he heard Quinn get shot by Sam.

“Looks you lost a sister and a boyfriend” said Tara.

Y/n stood there in Shock.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! They forced me to kill! They found out I was Amber’s brother and forced me to help them! Please I don’t want to die!” Said y/n.

Y/n was obviously lying, but he had to think of a lie quickly and that was the best one he could think of.

“Oh really? Do you want to know who else didn’t want to die? Chad” said Tara. “Yeah and he died like a pussy” said y/n.

All of a sudden Tara tackled y/n and started to stab him repeatedly.

Y/n started to scream in pain as Tara kept stabbing at his Torso area.

“Please! Stop! I’m s-sorry about Chad!” Said y/n.

“Fuck you” said Tara as she stabbed y/n straight in the head.

A/n: this was very chaotic but there aren’t a lot of Ethan Landry x Male Reader fanfics

#male x male #mlm #malexmale #scream 6 #male reader #male reader x scream #scream x male reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x male reader #mxm #swearing #gay #angst #scream #amber freeman #character death

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teamfreewill2pointo · 4 months

Note

Is there any proof that CW imposes or asked Misha to be bi or imply it? Or anyone that has worked for the CW?

Sorry if I misunderstood this ask, but I think you have it backwards? Tinhats believe that the reason that their celebrity/public figure is not publicly out is due to PR. This is true to some extent.

DJ Qualls only recently came out, even though it was well known that he liked men. There were many rumors about Kevin Spacey before he publicly came out. There's a leading man that I hear many rumors about in queer circles and on gossip pages, but I'm not going to post his name here because I think people are entitled to their privacy. I don't know much about this man, but these rumors seem more credible than any CW actor, in part, because this leading man has more to lose.

More than that, the CW wouldn't be the one deciding if an actor should come out or not. Often this is a decision that an actor makes based on their ability to land certain roles and their fear of landing those roles becoming endangered if it is publicly known that they like men. These are usually actors who are playing leading men in romances.

DJ's career wasn't challenged by him coming out now, although it could have been negatively impacted had he come out earlier.

PR is something that people often over- and underestimate in fandom depending on their approach. I think a lot of underestimating comes from people not realizing that officials are involved in certain projects or how they are involved. For example, Kings of Con isn't just something a pair of friends are doing, but they also have investors. Those investors probably aren't controlling R2 to a high degree, it's just that R2 are being mindful of how their content will be perceived by their investors.

There's a lot of PR around casts all being friends and loving each other. Most of the time, this is PR. But at the same time, if there are people who are fighting in the cast, that information gets out. It's really well known that David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson had lots of conflicts on the X-Files set, something that they have now both admitted in public. Samantha didn't return to the Sex in the City revival due to conflicts with her actress.

Multiple people, including people who are known for being open and honest and not bowing to PR, like Mark Sheppard, have talked about how genuine J2 are and how they have a real friendship.

For example, there are antis on both sides who try to claim that anytime J2 do something affectionate and brotherly together, that's just PR, but PR doesn't work like that. PR wouldn't forced them to get meals together in the evenings outside of the con, especially when they aren't announcing that they are getting the meals together.

If they aren't announcing it and we are finding out about it from third parties, or a casual mention as part of a larger story, then you know that it's not PR.

I expect when the revival really kicks off, we are going to see more brotherly posts from the Js about each other, and that will be PR, not because they don't genuinely have that relationship (they do!), but because they are promoting that relationship to support more Supernatural. (See 2015 social media.)

So if Misha was queer, there would be no problem with him coming out based on the type of actor that he is and the current climate. In fact, him coming out as straight put a lot of egg on his face, and was bad PR. This was a choice that Misha made. Nobody told him to do any part of it, and definitely not anybody from the CW!

#cast #misha collins #behind the scenes #pr

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el-nervy · 2 months

Text

Mismatched (Part 2)

Pairing: Loki x reader (Constructive criticism is welcome.)

{I know it’s been years! I got lazy lol}

The competition day is very near, in fact, it’s tomorrow. You were so excited and nervous at the same time. These past few days, you force yourself to wake up early in the morning just to practice and ends the day with more practice. But today, you are planning to relax before the big day.

After finishing one of your odd jobs, you decided to go home right away. You were on your way home when someone called your name. You turned around and saw a very familiar chestnut-haired girl walking towards you.

“Wanda!”, you gave each other a quick hug. “How are you?”

“I’m doing fine. How come you never visits us anymore?”, she pouted.

“I’m sorry. I was just so busy these past few days.”

“Hey! I’m just teasing you.”, Wanda laughed. “I know you were preparing for the competition. Pietro told me all about it.”

And as if on cue, Pietro ran towards the both of you.

“How are you, Y/N? Are you excited for tomorrow?”, Pietro placed his arm around your shoulders.

“Honestly, I feel very nervous right now. You know that this is my first time joining a competition.”, you sighed.

“Hey! You’ll be fine. You’ re a great archer. I know you’ll win that competition.” ,she said sincerely.

“Thanks, Wanda.”, you gave her a genuine smile.

“Tomorrow, we will watch your first competition and winning the first place, and after that we will celebrate!” Pietro added.

“You will watch me compete?”

“Of course! We wouldn’t miss it for the world!”, Wanda said as if it was so obvious.

“Thank you.”, you smiled genuinely at both of them.

You felt so lucky just being friends with the twins. The three of you known each other since when you were children. Your family moved from a small province to the big city when you were 6. You were enjoying exploring your neighborhood when you noticed that you were lost. You were trying hard to remember which way you came from but you couldn’t remember. You began to panic and you were about to cry when a young Pietro and Wanda approached you. They helped you find your way home. After that, the three of you are always together.

“Hey, I’m starving. How ‘bout we go at May’s?”, Pietro said while rubbing his stomach.

“That sounds like a good idea.”, you replied.The three of you walked to May’s diner.

The chimes rang as you enter the cozy diner. A brunette adolescent boy came out from the kitchen. “Welcome to Ma— Oh! Hey! It’s you guys!”, he greeted you with a big smile. The three of you returned the greeting. “Take a seat!”, he motioned the three of you to sit near the window.

“Thanks, Peter. How’s it going?”, you asked.

“I’m doing alright. So you want the usual?”, Peter replied. All of you nodded.

“Alright! I’ll be right back with your food.”. As Peter walks back into the kitchen, a middle-aged, young looking woman came out. “Y/N, Pietro, Wanda! Long time no see! How you kids doing?”, the woman greeted with a warm smile. You all greeted back.

“You’re still as beautiful as ever May.”, Pietro grinned.

“You’re still a charmer.”, May ruffled Pietro’s hair.

“Sorry we couldn’t drop by here these past few days.”, Y/N apologized.

“That’s alright I know you guys are busy. Anyways , are you guys going to the royal feast tomorrow?”

“A feast?”, Wanda questioned.

“Oh my-! You don’t know about the feast?! People are talking about it for the past few days! The King is going to throw a feast tomorrow and everyone is invited.”

“What’s the occasion? Festival of Ostara is not until two weeks.”, Pietro asked.

“Well, there were rumors that the youngest prince is looking for a bride.”, Peter chimed in, placing the tray of food on the table.

“Where did you hear that?”, May asked.

“I just heard it from some customers.”, Peter answered.

“Peter and I are going to attend the feast. Are you kids decided to go to the ball?”, May asked the three again.

“Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m kinda busy tomorrow. Have fun at the feast”, Y/N replied back.

----------------------------------------------

You’re in your room, preparing your bow and arrows for the competition. You were making sure that everything is in perfect condition.

“Y/N.. May I come in?”, your mother knocked. You let your mother in your room.

“Do you need something, mother?”

“Tomorrow, the King will be holding a feast and it’s gonna be a really big one. Lots of people will attend. And we are short in helpers at the palace. If you could come with me tomorrow and give us a hand? They’ll pay us handsomely.”

You looked at your mother. You noticed the lines under her eyes that you haven’t seen before. She looked exhausted. “Of course, mother. I’ll help at the palace.”

“Great! Get some rest now. Goodnight.”, she kissed your forehead and she left.

You released a big sigh. “What should I do now?”

To be cont...

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki #mismatched

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hisunshiine · 2 years

Text

—whims & inconsistencies | 2

→ posted: july 1, 2022

→ pairing: kim seokjin x poc!reader

→ genre/au: victorian era!au, pride&prejudice vibes, angst, smut, fluff

→ chapter rating: +18 / M for Mature

→ wordcount: 3.4k words

→ chapter warnings: mentions of misogyny, reader is an orphan, mentions of parents passing away, a lot of vulgar things implied, smut scene that includes masturbation and graphic depictions of first time sex, secrecy, missionary, doggy style, reverse cowgirl, size kink, praise kink, body worship, mutual orgasm, overstimulation, cunnilingus, losing mind to pleasure, impregnation/breeding kink

❂ Lovers Through The Ages

⁂ Hosted by: Professor Naia (@opaljm) through @bangtansorciere

⤐ AU Type: A Love That Brought About Scandal (1500s-1800s)

⤐ Theme: ---

⤐ Kinks: first time sex, secrecy, missionary, doggy style, reverse cowgirl, size kink, praise kink, body worship, mutual orgasm, overstimulation, cunnilingus, losing mind to pleasure, impregnation/breeding kink

→ credits: @hobeemin for the most amazing banner idea. @peachiilovesot7 you are the best beta reader i could ever ask for. thank you to @moonleeai, @heathfritiiiary, and @cherrysoulth for all of your positive cheering and comments on the story! the story is flowing so well thanks to your input!

→ an: i decided to start posting this story because it fit so well with this months idea for the network and then i rearranged the chapters and added this smut scene just for the event! there is also a map of sonyeondan! you can click the link below to see the city and help build the setting in your head the way that i see it! Updates should be weekly! If you would like to be on a tag list, please reply to this chapter or send an ask!

series masterlist map of Sonyeondan

The next day, you sit with Jiwoo to eat a late lunch, talking about the whirlwind that was the previous night. It was absolutely amazing to recount the glamor of the party, and both you and Jiwoo avoid talking about the not so pleasant events, from Mr. Park approaching you to the three rakes who tracked you into the gardens before you left for the evening.

When the two of you find yourselves with a lull in the conversation, both lost in your thoughts of the evening, Jiwoo begins to eye her plate, moving her food around mindlessly.

She hesitates before she finally brings up the end of the night.

“YN, you need to be careful of Seokjin’s youngest brother.” Finally looking up from the table, she makes eye contact with you and you can see fear in her eyes.

“The other two can be ‘all bark’ when by themselves, but when they have Kim Taehyung leading them, the three of them are—well—to put it plainly, uncontrollable. We are lucky that we were together and within hearing distance.”

You feel that same sense of dread traveling down your spine thinking back to Taehyung and the words he said to you.

“Jiwoo, you didn’t tell me that those three wagtails approached you last night!” Hoseok ambles into the drawing room with his hair still sticking in every direction, but with a clean outfit ready to accept visitors for the day.

Jiwoo looks at her younger brother with thin eyes, her glare scary as she looks around for a passing servant or maid.

“Quiet, Hobi,” she intones with use of his nickname, “we don’t need any rumors being spread by gossip mongering people with nothing better to do.”

Hoseok yawns, arm waving away Jiwoo’s concern; how lucky he is to be a man. He knows nothing of watching around the corners for people who wish you ill intent who can tarnish your name with a lie as easily as they can smile in your face.

“Jiwoo, I am sure they meant no harm at all. Right, YN? Unless—did they say or do anything questionable?”

“Yes,” she hisses, dropping her utensils with a soft clink. “They approached us while we were getting air. And they said the most vulgar things. It was despicable.”

“You should have called for me!”

“Hoseok,” you interrupt, taking in the way Jiwoo’s hands tremble. “We were out in the garden. You were inside a ballroom for a debut party. You would not have heard us, and who would we have sent to get you? Should one of us have left the other alone with three men in the dark?”

Hoseok relents, his face turning serious as he begins to wake up and use his brain to see the other point of view. He has the decency to apologize to his sister for judging your actions.

“If you can manage it, avoid them at all costs, YN. They’re wealthy beyond belief and the tales they have told at the gentleman’s club, well, let’s just say that it would put a curl in mother’s hair, and you know she can’t hold a curl to save her life.”

Jiwoo nods as Hoseok continues. His words bring you no comfort, and you know that your differences in such a monoethnic area, instead of being celebrated for being diverse, make you a target for negative talk and actions.

“I don’t want to scare you, but this society is full of jealous wenches and rakes. And if you make one of the rich mad, they’ll spout off lies that people will believe because they’re bored and live for drama.”

“You’ve already stolen the spotlight from some of them…I heard some of the gossip last night, the way so many of the men’s eyes were on you—the Lee’s daughters and the Min’s were not too thrilled to be ignored.”

You sigh, reaching for your cup of water.

“I spent most of my night tucked away with Kim Seokjin, talking. The women need not worry about me and who was looking at me, I wasn’t looking at any of them.”

“Oh, we know, and they know too. You had the Kim Seokjin’s attention the entire night, and they were royally pissed off about it.” Hoseok lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head once he quiets back down. “It was quite fun to witness if I am honest.”

The bell hanging at the front door clangs loudly, and you hear more than see the butler make his way to the entrance so that he can see who was visiting. You gulp down the rest of your water in apprehension of who was at the door, and after hearing the indecipherable murmurs, the tension in the drawing room is interrupted with an announcement.

“Kim Seokjin to call on LN YN.”

The butler disappears after introducing Seokjin, and everyone stands to receive him into the room. A maid scuttles in with a tray that has tea cups and a steaming pot, and Jiwoo thanks her quietly before she disappears out of the room.

“YN, you look lovely this afternoon. Jiwoo, always a pleasure. Hoseok, you should go put some water in your hair, it’s sticking up in the back.”

You can’t hold back your giggle, and Seokjin thinks it is the cutest sound he has ever heard. How he can be even more enraptured not even twenty-four hours following since he last saw you baffles him.

“Thank you Seokjin,” you greet. “You are handsome, as always, I assume.”

“You are too kind. I wanted to see if you would like to go for a promenade with me. I would like to spend some time getting to know you better outside of a noisy party environment, if you should so desire.”

Warmth floods your cheeks despite telling him you wanted this to happen. You answer shyly, and Hoseok stands to inform his parents of the events for the day. His mom would be free, but his dad would be heading to work, so you assume that Mrs. Jung, Hoseok, and Jiwoo will chaperone the outing.

You are restless as you stand in the foyer waiting for the last of your chaperones to appear on the stairway. Seokjin tries his best to not stare at you, but everything about you pulls his attention.

He is but a man, afterall, and the swell of your breast as you sigh in frustration at Jiwoo’s untimely need to refine her look all but causes him to break out into a cold sweat. He wipes his hands on his trousers, in what he hopes is a discreet manner, but you notice it anyways. This is something he likes about you, the way you seem to attune yourself so easily to others around you.

“Hoseok, it is getting rather hot in the entryway, and we have been standing here for quite some time. Shall we start without Jiwoo?” you ask, antsy to spend time with Seokjin but also to quell the nerves it seems you both have.

“Jiwoo, dearest sister, get down these stairs right now, or you will remain home!”

Hoseok has no qualms at yelling at his older sister in front of the company, and his mom apologizes to Seokjin who just grins.

“Nothing we don’t also do at my house, Mrs. Jung. It is quite a relief to see that we are similar.”

She appears relieved at his response, looking at you with a smile and simple nod that lets you know that she approves of him so far. Despite not being your biological parents, the Jung’s will take on the role while helping you find a suitor, so having Seokjin impress them is a plus.

Jiwoo finally appears and descends the stairs with a new dress on and her hair styled differently from earlier. You roll your eyes as she pretends she did not take up such a large amount of time and heads straight for the door with an unbothered, “shall we go?”

Seokjin leads you out to the carriage, holding your parasol in order to help you climb in so that you can head to the Citadel Market in the center of town.

Upon arriving at the Citadel gates, you see just how busy the square is, with many townsfolk out to do their shopping and handle various businesses that they have. To the back is the L-shaped castle home that belongs to the lordship of Sonyeondan, Bang Si Hyuk, and the many stalls for merchants are set up in the courtyard.

The carriage pulls up near the citadel wall across from the fountain that sits in the middle of the secondary courtyard outside of the gates, which is where you all disembark and begin your promenade among the townsfolk. Many residents of Highgate are out at this time, and this is just the level of being seen that would be needed to begin the talk of courtship between you and Kim Seokjin.

Hopefully this would dissuade others from attempting to call on you at this time, though later you realize this is highly unlikely: the higher ranking a man is that calls upon a woman, the more she is sought after. Luckily for Jiwoo, this will prove most beneficial, since she is associated with you as close as can be without being actual relatives, she is also seen as a coveted gem.

Walking with Seokjin is every bit as pleasant as you had hoped it would be. He maintained his distance as was expected by spectators to the affair, but if the road was unsteady would present his arm to you for balance. The walking path around the secondary courtyard was decent, four-hundred meters* or so, with the carriage lane taking the portion closer to the buildings and the citadel wall to avoid running over townsfolk.

You hold your parasol and a fan, using it to cool you down from the summer heat as you talk with Seokjin, and time seems to go by fast, and yet somehow slow at the same time.

“So, tell me a little about your life growing up. I know that your family lived here, but you were sent to a girl’s boarding school at a young age.”

“That is quite right. My father was a traveling merchant. He settled here after meeting my mother and falling in love. He was not from here, as I am sure you have heard, but he loved it all the same.” Seokjin’s eyes attentively watch you as you talk, a soft smile gracing his full lips as he listens to every word.

“We lived right outside the Sonyeondan gates in the Highgate area, as my father still continued to sell his wares. He had a friend who would deliver things like spices and other household wares. I remember the house always smelling so wonderful when the crates would arrive.”

“You speak of your father so fondly,” Seokjin states, and you nod.

“Oh, he was a great man. Of course, these are the memories of a seven year old, so of course, to me he was the tallest, most handsome, and respectable man. He treated me and my mother like queens.”

“As I imagine, it was deserved.” Seokjin’s smile is sincere, and you don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle as you continue to talk.

“Oh, I think I was quite the handful as a child, but they indulged in my every whim, no matter how inconsistent I was with my childlike desires.”

“Well it appears that one of those platitudes stuck with you over the course of time.”

You nod, knowing he speaks on your musical inclination.

“Yes, one of the last things I told my parents was that I wanted to be a virtuoso violinist, because there has yet to be a woman who holds such a title. Those months before their passing, they were so excited to listen to me play and afterwards, it became my refuge. Boarding school was…” You grimace as you remember how the girls treated you. “It wasn’t what they told me it would be.”

“I hope to hear you play sometime.”

You can’t help but cover your face with your fan as you feel it heat up at Seokjin’s words.

“Yes, I would love to play for you.”

The two of you continue to walk in a comfortable silence, both thinking about the other and the blooming adoration growing in your chests.

“Well, I know at the party we talk all about superficial things, likes and dislikes, how people danced…” You grin as you remember Namjoon stepping on a woman’s toes and Hoseok embellishing his steps so much that his partner became confused and messed up her steps. “But I want to learn more about what you’re looking for in a partner, in a wife.”

Seokjin’s face grows a little serious as he thinks about his answer.

“I guess, unlike most of my peers, I want to have a partner who is smart, who is the better half of me. I want someone who I can talk to about my day who can understand what I talk about, and can distract me when life is tough. Being my wife would afford her with most anything she could ever want, as our family is very close to Lord Bang, but she would have to be able to deal with scrutiny and gossip.”

You smile from behind your fan at his words.

“My family has always been here in Sonyeondan since it was founded, and my father is part of the parliament here. I will follow in his footsteps, and as a founding family, we hold a large role in the political scene. As the eldest, it is my duty to undertake this position. Gossip is always part of the political scene, and this is something I need for my future wife to know and be able to withstand. Most of it will be directed towards me, but people do not hesitate to spread it towards other family members if they feel so inclined or incensed by a situation.”

As Seokjin spoke, you grew fascinated with his descriptions, envisioning life by his side.

“So in all honesty, I guess I want a wife who is my equal. Smart, steadfast, honest. I wouldn’t mind her to also have looks that match mine as well, a beauty among mortals, and everything else, such as being a virtuoso violinist, would be a plus.”

You can’t hold back the giggle, feeling like a foolish schoolgirl with a crush. For the first time ever, you find the idea of being someone’s wife, if that someone were to be Kim Seokjin, might not be as terrible as you originally thought.

That night, after setting up another date for him to come by the Jung residence for dinner, Seokjin tosses and turns in bed. He can’t get you off his mind; the mere reminder of how close you had been to him today makes him feel drunk on thoughts of you.

The way your perfume lingered on his person long after the return carriage ride where a hole in the road had jostled you into his arms for a second—or was it an eternity? He just knew that feeling you in his arms like that was something he wanted to feel again and again.

The way your breasts had pressed against his body, your hand flat on his chest and the parting of your lips as you gasped—Seokjin could imagine you under him. He could see the way you would look up at him, eyes imploring him to debase you, ruin you in ways only he could accomplish. He could hear the way you would sound if he were to grind his body against yours, the whimpers he could draw from your full lips if he should just press himself into your body…

Seokjin feels no shame in the way you elicit the most primal of reactions from him when he’s alone in the dark of his room. Closing his eyes, he adjusts his sleep trousers to release his hardened length. Lowly groaning, his hand lightly holds the top of his shaft allowing his thumb to slowly trace back and forth through his pre-cum.

His mind is detailed at creating you, and it takes mere seconds for Seokjin to imagine you in his house, with him secretly tugging you into the large bathroom attached to his bedroom so he can set you on the large sink vanity. Pressing kisses to your neck and collarbone as he pulls down the dress to reveal your tits, nipples pert and searching for his touch as he lowers his plump lips to wrap around them and suck harshly until he’s colored your skin with his claim.

Oh! What he would do to you if he was able to get you all alone like this…his large hands traveling under your skirts along your womanly curves until he’s able to press his regal fingers against your folds between the opening of your knickers. He so easily imagines the way your lips would so fervently press against his as his fingers delve into your most precious of areas, the way your virginal walls squeeze against his welcome intrusion, you gasping into his mouth as you both swallow; him swallowing your sounds so as to not be caught and you swallowing his long and slender fingers into your shallow depths.

He imagines it would be easy for him to lower his head after giving you your first orgasm and disappear up under your skirts, his tongue seeking to taste you as he swirls and suckles against your pearl, one hand clutching an exposed breast so as to twiddle your pert nipple as the other hand presses your thigh to keep you open for him. He can already hear the way you would praise him for his ability to kiss you in multiple areas of your body.

Seokjin rotates his wrist, spreading the copious amounts of pre-cum around his cock, before giving himself long tugs to enjoy the feel of what he imagines to be the steady strokes he would deliver into your tiny heat. He can feel the way you would quiver in his hold when his cock, thick and angry, splits you open for the first time, your precious pearl begging for him to write love letters across it as he thrusts into you, clutching your body to his in a seated missionary.

His hand catches the same rhythm he dreams to take you with; he imagines being able to take you openly in his room, you bouncing confidently on his cock as you face away from him, allowing him to enjoy the view of your coveted curves only he gets to see free from any clothing, the way you would seat yourself fully on him, his hand pressed to your tummy in order to feel himself embedded so deeply inside of your tight cunt, he knows that when he cums, he’ll be getting you pregnant.

Seokjin can’t hold back his own whimpers as he takes short, quick breaths—he can feel the pull building as he imagines you losing your mind to the pleasure he gives you with each stroke, as he imagines you on all fours as he thrusts into you, his thighs meeting your plump ass so that he can watch the way it bounces with each slap…the way you would scream his name so that even the butlers and maids know that he is the one you chose to marry, he is the one you allow to fuck you so deeply and intensely that they have to throw open all of the windows because the whole house smells of your sex.

With a loud groan and the thought of you loudly repeating his name like a mantra as you tremble around him, Seokjin expels himself, dripping all over his hands after the first spurt lands on his lower abdomen. He continues to stroke himself through his climax, prolonging the orgasm with thoughts of you on your knees, tongue covered in the mess he made and swallowing him down, until his cock no longer weeps and he can’t bear the overstimulation. Climbing out of bed, he makes haste to his bathroom—the same one he envisioned fucking you in on the vanity—to clean himself up.

Once his head hits his pillow this time, he easily succumbs to slumber, with his dreams full of you.

series masterlist —thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! see you next week!!

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cheesy09 · 2 years

Text

[CN] Kiro's Fledgling Date

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

[PART 1]

Gaffer: Kiro, according to the problems that appeared during the rehearsal this morning, the lighting’s been adjusted again. You can go take a look.

Mixer: Kiro, Kiro. You need to listen to the remix part of the third track again.

Kiro: Okay, I’ll be there when I’m done!

Kiro, wearing a beret and a pair of black-rimmed glasses, was communicating with the music director under the stage, looking serious and devoted.

The company’s newly signed artists were hosting their first concert.

Perhaps because this was his first time being a part of the stage as a PD, Kiro had put all of his energy into it in the past few days, so much so that he hadn’t slept well for several days.

Looking at his dark circles, I sighed slightly and then thought of a way to help him relax. I picked up a stack of posters and walked to him.

MC: Mr. PD Kiro, I’m going to put up posters outside the museum, but I can’t do it by myself. Can you help me~?

Kiro seemed to have just finished discussing about the music. Hearing my invitation, he accepted without a second thought.

Kiro: Of course. Leave it to me.

The weather outside the museum was pleasant and we posted posters on both sides. After I came down from the stool and dusted my hands, I suddenly noticed that the upper left corner had been slightly raised.

I jumped up and tried to smooth it out, but I couldn’t reach it. Just when I was about to look down for the stool, my outstretched hand suddenly touched a strip of warm skin.

Kiro easily reached over me and stretched out his hand to smooth the raised part. I looked up, just in time to see his azure blue eyes looking at me.

The afternoon air carried with it the scent of grass and trees, but on the tip of my nose lingered the faint aroma of milk. I slowed down my breathing for a while, taking in the moment of security and listening to Kiro’s smiling voice.

Kiro: Miss Chips, you jump around like a kitten.

MC: ...It seems that these few days of continuous work hasn’t yet exhausted you if you still have time to observe me.

Since we were still outside, I hurriedly pulled away from his unclipped embrace and stood on the steps to examine the poster.

The poster this time was inspired by Kiro. I had recently heard from colleagues that Kiro had liked this poster very much.

I looked up at the pattern in front of me. A small and exquisite bird stood in front of a huge window, tilting it’s head and looking at the lights passing through the window.

With a beginner’s innocence and leaping courage.

MC: The spots on the bird’s wings are so delicate. What kind of bird is it?

I turned my head to look at Kiro, He and l looked at the poster, side by side, and there was a sparkling light in his eyes.

Kiro: It’s a purple-winged starling.

Kiro: According to rumors, it was Mozart’s pet. One day, it had suddenly flown to his window. It’s sound is similar to the piano tune Mozart was composing at the time, which later came to be known as “Piano Concerto No.17 in G major”.

It was the first time I had heard this story. Just as I was about to ask more, a timid voice suddenly came from behind me.

??: Are you the staff of the Fledgling Concert?

[PART 2]

Kiro and I turned our heads at the same time and saw a few young girls standing behind us, carrying personal signs together.

On the stand was Wen Ke, one of the protagonists of the concert, and under it was a huge flower.

“Our Wen Ke has been walking the flower road.”

It suddenly became clear to me that they all came to see the concert for Wen Ke.

Probably because Kiro was busy controlling the stage process recently, he was rough and wore black-rimmed glasses and a mask, making him unrecognizable.

I nodded and spoke to them.

MC: Is something the matter?

Girl A: We came by train from outside the city and wanted to ask if you could help us outside the venue? We wanted to set this up!

Seeing their pleading, expectant gazes, I was a little hesitant. There were three protagonists to this concert and it wasn’t good to give support to just one of them.

But just as I was beating around the bush, the girls in front of me seemed to have understood what I meant and waved their hands immediately.

Girl A: Sorry for the trouble! Let’s not put in the stadium. Instead, let’s put it on the side of the road.

Girl B: But... if you put it on the side of the road, Wen Ke might not be able to see it with so many people.

One of the girls spoke disappointedly, standing in the sun, slightly clutching the corner of the stand.

Kiro: He’ll see it.

Kiro suddenly spoke. The girls and I turned our heads to look at him in surprise. He looked at the stand and spoke to the girls with certainty.

Kiro: This is his stage. He’ll see it.

Kiro’s tone was as firm as a rock and the girls were reassured. They happily carried the standing signs to the door to arrange them.

Seeing how happy and busy they were under the sun, I saw Kiro’s eyes light up, and I patted his head.

Kiro: By the way, I have to adjust the lighting one last time!

He hurriedly returned to the arena, and the originally planned mandatory rest naturally failed to be implemented.

I sighed and bought drinks for the girls, saying that Wen Ke’s senior had bought it for them, and the girls took it with a smile.

When he returned to the arena, Kiro stood amongst the lighting team, frowning and communicating with the chief electrician.

It was obvious that he really wanted this concert to go well.

In the afternoon, he finally had a moment to rest. He sat with his legs crossed on the edge of the stage, quietly watching the changing lights.

I also sat next to him and handed him the iced drink I bought at noon.

MC: This is your first time seeing the stage from the perspective of a PD. Do you have any thoughts about it?

I asked with a smile. At that moment, Kiro seemed to finally relax. He leaned against me lazily and gestured at the light on the stage.

Kiro: My thought is that the light on this stage is so bright.

Kiro: The director’s team, the lighting team, the props team... so many people behind the scenes work together to light this place up. And for the sake of such light, they always stand in a place where the light cannot reach them.

Kiro: Seeing a stage with such expectations and wishes makes me want to stand on this stage even more.

His voice was light and soft, and the corners of his eyes narrowed slightly, but I was well aware of the joy that rolled in his heart.

MC: Most definitely.

MC: And this belief will definitely become a fire, hidden in everyone’s heart. After all, they also stood in front of everyone in order to rush to the future that they wanted in their hearts.

I thought back to the girls who set up the flower stands outside the venue, and the fancy but sincere slogans, and I came to understand some of the reasons why Kiro worked so hard.

`MC: And for the audience, seeing their favorite idols shining brightly will make them happy without a doubt.

Kiro suddenly turned his head to look at me and a bright light fell on my face. He got very close and scratched the tip of my nose.

Kiro: I also found out something.

There was a distinct laugh in his voice.

Kiro: It turns out that being your colleague make me incredibly happy.

[PART 3]

I was stunned for a moment. It felt like my entire being was almost drowning in the azure blue ocean that was just a short distance away.

Our other colleagues were busy doing their own thing. I blinked slowly and quickly reached out to hug Kiro’s waist.

I whispered in his ear.

MC: I’m also very happy to be able to work with you.

MC: This hug is a reward to PD Kiro for his hard work.

I saw a soft smile slowly blooming in his eyes, as if every smile that I had seen on stage, belonged to Kiro.

Countdown to 6 hours, the last rehearsal.

Kiro: Here you need to freeze the beat and then freeze for a second in front of the audience. You’re still jumping too fast.

Kiro: Well - let me demonstrate.

There were several dance steps that the juniors kept making mistakes. Kiro jumped onto the stage and stood in front of them to demonstrate in person. I stood under the stage holding onto the script and looked up at Kiro, who tirelessly repeated the action of turning his head to freeze the frame.

Staff member: MC, some media have arrived. It is estimated that they’re all here for Kiro.

I nodded, indicating that I understood.

MC: You keep watch here, and I’ll go meet them.

As soon as I walked to the door, a reporter from Xingju Weekly stopped in front of me. He glanced at Kiro who was on the stage in the distance, and his eyes shone with the excitement of discovering a breaking point.

Weekly reporter: Producer MC, is this performance actually followed up by Kiro? Why is he willing to be a stepping stone for unknown newcomers? Is it due to pressure from the company? Or was it because of some ulterior exchange of interests between him and the company?

Weekly reporter: Did Kiro really prepare for this concert?

His questions were sharp and harsh and shot at me like a barrage of cannons. I took a deep breath and answered in all seriousness.

MC: I’m sorry. If you’re speculating about Kiro and the company, you underestimate his love for this stage.

The reporter was taken aback by my answer. In fact, as an organizer, it was best to maintain a good relationship with the media. But there was a voice in my heart that said that Kiro and everyone else had paid too much to be maliciously speculated against.

I looked straight into the camera and continued.

MC: In Kiro’s eyes, no matter who stands up on that stage, that place would always be the most dazzling and sacred place. Because he knows how much he paid to uphold that stage, he would not despise any performance.

MC: Even those offstage.

The reporter still didn’t seem to believe my answer, and just as I was about to fight back, someone suddenly blocked me.

I looked up and saw Kiro’s figure in front of me.

He seemed to have heard what he had said just now. The cameraman behind the reporter hurriedly pointed the camera at him, and the reporter immediately asked questions.

Reporter: Kiro, what do you think of the producer of [MC’s company name]? Has the company stagnated your personal development?

Kiro widened his eyes slightly as if he had heard something from the Arabian Nights, and then shook his head.

Kiro: She conveyed everything I wanted to say from the heart.

Kiro: The stance of the company’s producer is my stance.

The reporter was still skeptical, so I signaled the staff to take him to the media booth, and when I turned around, Kiro lightly hooked my arm.

The audience began to enter the arena, one after another, and someone immediately spotted Kiro standing under the stage with sharp eyes and rushed over excitedly.

Audience member A: Oh my God, it’s Kiro! He actually came to this concert!

Audience member B: Kiro, can you sign your name for me!!!

Facing the huge audience, Kiro stood under the stage and shook his head gently.

Kiro: Not today.

[PART 4]

Kiro: It’s not me who’s going to stand on the stage today, so “Kiro’s” signature isn’t that precious.

Kiro: What’s precious are the people who are about to stand on this stage, because they’ve paid a lot to shine in your eyes.

Kiro: I hope that the reason you’re happy today was because you saw them standing brightly on this stage.

Kiro repeated my words in a gentle tone and my heart moved slightly. So he remembered what I said.

But in the blink of an eye, I saw the audience couldn’t help but look a little disappointed. I thought for a moment and walked up to him.

MC: Today’s protagonist have not yet appeared, but PD Kiro can sign autographs as a warm-up guest.

Audience: Great!!!

MC: But after the show starts, I hope everyone can focus on the people on stage~

Audience: Of course! Today, I’ll latch onto the trio of fledglings!

The audience nodded and I looked at Kiro.

MC: What does PD Kiro think?

Kiro took the poster and the signature pen handed over by the audience, turned his head and said with a smile in my ear.

Kiro: I am both, a guest for the show and a PD. Will the boss pay me double the salary?

MC: [laughing] Mm, well said!

Audience member A: Why did Kiro come to the Fledgling Concert?

Audience member B: I heard that the trio of fledglings are your own juniors. Is that true?!

Kiro signed the poster and handed it to the fans in front of him. Hearing those words, he nodded generously.

Kiro: Yes, they are all hardworking entertainers. I’m sure they won’t let you down.

Audience member C: Wow. Kiro, can you tell us the best song in this concert?

Kiro: Although everyone’s preferences differ, I think the best song must be “The Starling”.

Audience member C: Starling? What does that mean?

Kiro stopped his hand from signing, raised his head and smiled at the questioning girl. He then stretched out his hand to make a “shush” sign.

Kiro: That is a secret that they need to reveal to you personally.

Even though he was clearly standing under the stage at the moment, I suddenly became astonished and found him to be as dazzling as when he was on stage.

The giant screen suddenly went black, and then the ten-minute countdown timer flashed.

Kiro: Well, the warm-up event ends here, and the next part is the main attraction.

Following Kiro’s words, the lights in the audience slowly dimmed, surrounded by the sound of chirping birds.

The audience returned to their seats under the guidance of the staff and waited quietly for the unknown opening.

In the dim light, I turned to look at Kiro who was beside me.

MC: Mr. PD Kiro, the performance is about to start. May I invite you to witness it with me?

MC: When the fledglings take off?

I watched Kiro’s gaze linger on my face for a moment, as if confirming my position in such a vast world.

Then, he held my hand tightly.

Kiro: I’d be honored to.

He dragged me all the way backstage. The curtain slowly opened , and after the countdown of “3,2,1″, a white light lit across the stage.

Dark birds flew across the stage, carrying the lightest dreams to the top.

Through the gap in the curtain, I saw the girls who arranged the flower stand standing in the crowd, waving light sticks at Wen Ke diligently.

Wen Ke’s every turn, every dance step, cooperated flawlessly with his teammates. And the two teammates next to him, Yu Xixi and Yang Han, were also earnestly doing the movements that had practiced countless times.

The singing of the starlings came from a distance, and the melody was crisp and catchy, like a young bird looking out among the green leaves in the cluster of trees.

At the moment when they turned their heads to freeze, the audience screamed incessantly, and all they saw was a sea of light green fluorescent light.

MC: Although I’ve seen it many times at your concerts, this time seems to be a little different.

Kiro: What’s different?

MC: It’s the first time we stood in the audience together like this, watching other people shine.

MC: It feels... wonderful.

At that moment, I saw a beam of light passing through the gap and fall onto the floor of the backstage. I reached out my hand to hold it up and grinned at Kiro.

MC: Senior Kiro, congratulations on witnessing a smooth and splendid takeoff.

MC: From the fledgling concert, up until now, everything was perfect.

MC: Good work, our PD Kiro.

I bent my eyes and looked at Kiro who was hidden within the dim world in the background. He made a strange gesture towards me.

Kiro: It’s you and me. We witnessed it together.

Kiro: When putting up the posters, didn’t you ask me why I chose the purple-winged starling for the poster, Miss Chips?

Kiro paused and spoke softly.

Kiro: Legend has it that each purple-winged starling represents a unique melody. They spend their whole lives searching for their melody, no matter where it is hidden.

Kiro: I was lucky to have found my melody.

He lowered his eyes slightly and his clear gaze fell on my face.

Kiro: To be understood, to be illuminated.

His eyes were shining brightly at me, and I heard what seemed to be the sound of a bird flapping its wings in my chest.

It was like finding the person who was most important to me in this world, and it was like being found by him.

Did the little bird in the story, who stood at Mozart’s window and listened to him play the piano, feel the same way as I did in this moment?

I looked at Kiro without blinking and heard his words follow slowly.

Kiro: I hope that every purple-winged starling can find its own melody.

Kiro: And can be listened to well.

Masterlist: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro

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thelittlepoetprincess · 2 years

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𝐃𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 Part 1

This was supposed to be Zhongli but I like The Doctor more AND HIS MODEL IS OUT. You can clearly see I have a type. This’ll be split into two parts.

How I imagine Dottore during his Akademiya days with a hint of unrequited love Spoilers ahead!

Warning(s): One-sided love, romantic undertones, mentions of death and abuse, character death(not u), blood and gore if you squint. Word Count: 1k

Part 2

The circumstances in which brought you into contact with him for the first time were strange to say the least. You were studying at Sumeru’s Akademiya, or more specifically, running through the halls went you got caught up in an overload explosion. You, being two years his senior, expected an heartfelt apology but instead got a dismissive attitude and an underhanded comment on your lack of focus.

It didn’t end there sadly, as the program which helped student from other cities adapt to Sumeru’s environment(the very one in which brought you from Inazuma to Sumeru), paired you and him together. Normally, they’d attempt to pair students up from similar backgrounds but no one wanted him and the only one left without a junior was you. How fun.

“Excuse me-?!“ You puffed out, thankful you had a geo shield active from your last experiment. That minimalized the damage but still didn’t fix the limpness you felt in your leg. The mint haired junior came stepping out, muttering something to himself about another failure.

“You’re excused. Move along unless you want to help clean up or become the next test. Perhaps looking where your running might help prevent this in the future.“ He slammed the doors shut, sending a cloud of smoke billowing in your face. Thank goodness some other, better mannered students came to your aid. They were also glad to help you file a report on him while the nurse assisted you. Turns out plenty of them had issues with this fellow.

Zandik, as you came to know him by, was unpopular among the student body. The more you hung around him the more unsavory rumors made their way to you by word of mouth. Many of them were of an angry mob which chased him from his home since he was caught experimenting on the locals. He was brash, cold, and even sadistic at times but you couldn’t imagine him going that far. Or rather you hoped he wouldn’t and looked the other way upon discovering his red flags.

The two of you sat across from each other with an uncomfortably awkward silence settling itself between you. Your eyes wandered to the other students from Inazuma enjoying getting to know each other while you were stuck with the same disrespectful junior who sent you to the Nurse’s office without so much as an ‘are you okay?’. He was more focused on whatever it was he was recently tinkering with at the moment which made you shift nervously in case it blew up again. “Senior (L/N)?” You both looked up to the group of students who came up, looking at you with concern and him with poorly hidden disdain.

“We noticed you didn’t get paired with anyone from the motherland. You could join us if you wanted, we were about to work on letters back to our families since one of us can sneak them in.” You smiled, there was only about 16 of them in total. Which was much smaller compared to the groups from other nations. Inazuma’s lockdown had hit the youth hardest, many who managed to sneak out may never see their families again. You moved to get up but hesitated. He would’ve been all alone, though that didn’t seem to bother him as he scoffed at you and continued to work. You forced up a smile and sat back down making him halt working for a moment. “Thank you but I’ve been paired already with my junior here. Please let me know how the letters go when they arrive.” You watched them leave with a pained expression when a soft cough brought your attention back to the rude underclassmen before you with his arms folded.

“You never told me you were from Inazuma.” You smiled, was this an attempt at socialization? “You never asked, Junior.”

“Zandik. My names Zandik.”

“So your mother is from Fontaine and your father is from Sumeru. Does that mean you can speak the language of Fontaine?“ You asked as your feet dangled from the experimental table you always sat on in his private lab, leaning on your arm for balance. He scoffed as he swirled the vial in his hand, the liquid swirling from lime green to blue. He had a plethora of expressions, as you’d come to witness. He hardly ever smiled, even with his affinity for you as he liked to call it. It was his way of saying he enjoyed your company. “Yes, I can. If you must know. Just as you speak the native language of Inazuma.” He turned and stopped when he saw you on his exam table. His expression warped briefly to something you hadn’t seen before before he gestured for you to get down, making you groan.

“What if I don’t want to?“ He made a noise akin only to a growl before he pushed you down by the shoulder into the cool steel. He was much stronger than you expected, or maybe it was because he caught you off-guard. Either way, he was towering above you with a glare. “Get. Up. Lest you wish to be my next experiment. Ne me teste pas.“

Your brain felt fuzzy when you left for your classes that day. Every moment you weren’t focused on something your mind wandered to the image of him above you, holding you down easily. His voice bounced around your brain, making your heart flutter in your chest. Your cheeks would immediately flush and your train of thought was gone. You rubbed your face as you erased and rewrote your notes for the 13th time today. It was this day you began to see him as a little more than just your junior.

It wasn’t long before your duo turned into a trio, another underclassmen inviting themselves to his lab and becoming quite fond of Zandik, just as you came to terms with your emotions and your attachment to him. She was sweet, though always with her nose stuck in her journal.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fatui #fatui #fatui dottore #dottore #sumeru

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ofkbelen-a · 1 year

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[ ASLIHAN MALBORA, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER ] ; have you seen KAMELYA BELEN around VIRGINIA BEACH? the TWENTY FIVE year old MARINE BIOLOGIST at THE VIRGINIA BEACH AQUARIUM is known for ( sunkissed cheeks paired with her hair tied up in messy buns, watercolor tattoos peaking out from under soft sweaters, waves lapping against your skin whilst sitting on your surfboard ) … around the OCEANFRONT district they have a reputation of being PLUCKY and DRIVEN but also STUBBORN and SELF-SACRIFICING. rumor has it they’re hiding SHE WAS MARRIED FOR A WEEK AFTER A VEGAS WEDDING…let’s hope the GOSSIP HOTTIE doesn’t find out ! @vabeachintros

stats.

Name: Kamelya ‘Kam’ Esmeray Belen

Age: 25

DOB: March 19th, 1997

Hometown: Istanbul, Turkey / San Diego, CA

Occupation: Marine Biologist (Also lowkey PHD Student)

District: Oceanfront

Sexuality: Pansexual

Relationship Status: Single Divorced

bio.

What kind of upbringing do you think comes of the marriage of a marine biologist and comic book illustrator? A fun one. The Belen’s were raised for the first 5 years in Istanbul, until Ayla Belen (Kam’s mother) was offered a full time job at Marvel studios in California, where she’d have full creative freedom with her characters and be able to get them out to the public. It was a dream come true, and the family moved in a heartbeat, leaving everyone they’d ever known behind.

Eren Belen (Kam’s father) easily found work in the coastal state, working both freelance and in part with an aquarium near to the family’s home. All of the kids took to the move in their own way, but Kamelya loved it. As much as she missed her family that she’d seen almost every day back in Turkey, she loved the new possibilities and things to experience in the American state. Especially when she constantly visited her dad either down at the harbor or at the aquarium after school, his work fascinating to her.

She made friends easily, her naturally bubbly and witty personality causing her to gain a cluster of friends that she absolutely adored. It was a plethora of energies and personalities, and it just made for all of the interesting hang outs. Whether that be her dragging her sleepy gang to the beach for an early morning surf before school, or the crew hitting up the boardwalk late at the night and getting giggly drunk.

College saw her striking out on her own, and following her dad’s path at the same time. She went to college for marine biology in Australia, before she traveled for a bit to gain some experience under her belt. She spent a little less than year in South Africa, working at an aquarium that her dad even transferred to for a few months to help her out in the beginning. The last few months of the year were spent on her dad’s boat, sailing and learning everything she could from him before she moved to Virginia Beach.

A friend from California had told her about an opening for a marine biologist at the local aquarium, and Kam jumped at the chance. She’s been in town for the past 2 years and loving the vibe of the city.

Her personality is very much a beach energy. She’s calm, laidback, doesn’t take life too seriously and is very go with the flow. She’s always had a fairly high mechanical aptitude, and she actually considered going into engineering before she settled on marine biology. She’s the ‘will sit on any surface or any that isn’t meant for sitting or logically able to sit on’ type, because she was definitely a climber as a kid, scuffed up knees and all. 9/10 wearing her swimsuit underneath her clothes because who knows when you might want to go for a swim? 70′s inspired fashion is her jam, along with jean jackets and general beach aesthetics. She’s an insanely good cook, and will cook you something when you or she’s sad (bc for her, that’s one of the ways she shows she loves/cares about you).

extras.

Meyer-Briggs: ENTP ‘The Debater’

Western Zodiac: Pisces

Pinterest: Here !

Aesthetics: watercolor tattoos peaking out from under her sweaters, that moment when the alcohol hits, dragging you to dance whenever she hears a song playing she likes, 70’s inspired wardrobe, peach vodka on the rocks, flowers in her hair, cooking recipes her turkish grandmother constantly sends her, going for late night walks on the beach, chaotic spotify playlists with no real theme, earrings of all shapes and sizes, beach bonfires.

#vabeach:intro #like this if you’d like to plot! <3

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whispersafterdusk · 2 years

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Prompt #30: Sojourn

Edmont was out of breath by the time he reached the Stormforge manor's doorstep and had to stop to compose himself before knocking, both to preserve his dignity and also to better hide how his heart was about to pound out of his chest over what he was about to do.

The door opened to reveal Gylda, one of Revkr's sisters that Edmont so rarely saw; she was just as surprised to see him as he was her, and once she'd recovered she quickly invited him in and offered to take his overcoat. He allowed her to take his coat but gently declined the refreshments, instead inquiring if he'd missed Revkr's departure.

"Oh no, not at all Lord Fortemps," Gylda laughed. "I'm afraid he's been waylaid in the parlor by a pair of miscreants."

Still chuckling she led him down the hall to the parlor in question and before he reached the doorway he could hear the delighted squeals of children and what could only be Revkr growling at them. Gylda gestured for him to enter and soon Edmont was treated to the view of Revkr gently wrestling in the floor with Finia's twin boys -- if memory served they would be turning 4 very soon, and they were every bit as rambunctious as Edmont remembered his own boys being.

Revkr grabbed them both in a bear hug and then sat them on their feet before rocking up from his knees onto his heels. "You be good for your mum, boys, I'll-"

He noticed Edmont in the doorway then and a look of surprise shot across his face, with him falling on his backside a breath later as he tried to both stand up and pivot at the same time.

"Edmont! When...?"

"Only this moment," he chuckled in reply. "I hope I am not interrupting."

"Ah, no, I was just - well, of course I won't be leaving now, now that you're here, but that was my intention. I just got caught up in my goodbyes."

Revkr used the arm of a nearby chair to help pull himself to his feet; Edmont could hear a few pops as the man moved and winced a bit - was he not truly back to full health after all or was that merely a sign of age? As soon as he was standing one twin attached themself to each leg, giggling madly; with a quiet laugh Revkr reached down to gently pry them free.

"Go on, boys - go find Aunt Gylda. She ought to have your lunch ready soon."

Edmont stood aside as the twins went hurrying passed him and down the hall; once they were gone he turned back to the room. "I worried I wouldn't catch you before you left again."

"Is something wrong?"

"May we...speak in private? -- nothing is wrong," Edmont added in a hurry, seeing the look on the man's face.

The worried look turned to one of curiosity, and Edmont followed him up the stairs to the sitting room that made up the front half of Revkr's quarters.

As Revkr closed the door behind them Edmont felt his heart rate increase; was he really about to broach this subject? He'd been debating these last few weeks while Revkr was away in Thavnair and with the man gone it had been easier to examine his thoughts knowing he wouldn't unexpectedly encounter him within the city. He'd come to a certain conclusion, one he felt both at peace with and also anxious over, tinged with excitement and an underlying need. And now...here, his courage was threatening to fail him.

"What's on your mind, then?"

Edmont realized he was rapidly tapping his fingers against the head of his cane and stopped himself. "...I believe I have figured out your mystery love."

Revkr's expression gave no hint as to how he took that declaration. "I'm surprised you were still puzzling over it. I also doubt you're correct," he added with a small smirk.

Finding his fingers starting to drum again Edmont moved to sit down in one of the armchairs and pointedly leaned his cane against the wall behind it to place it out of his reach. "I... Do you recall my ex-wife?"

"Yes, of course - why?"

"Have you heard rumor of why we separated?"

Revkr shook his head. "No. ...though, now I question if I should be worried, since this seems like it is connected to whoever you think I've loved all this time."

He leaned back in his chair, shutting his eyes; this was the part he'd somewhat despaired over sharing with him and yet, it was also a large part of why Edmont had deeply examined his personal feelings and come to the conclusion that he was currently struggling to find the words for.

"She... She believed I was being unfaithful. With you."

"What?" the man blurted, confusion clear on his face. "How in the world- WHY in the world did she think that?"

How in the world... The wording and his correction did not escape Edmont's attention. "Apparently, I speak of you too often, and too fondly."

Revkr fell into one of the other armchairs, bent forward with his elbows braced on his knees and his face in his hands. "Gods... Edmont, I'm-"

"Do not," Edmont interrupted sharply. "Do not dare to apologize or take any blame for this." The other peered at him through his fingers and Edmont let his expression soften. "I will not lie...I care for you, deeply. You are a dear - my dearest - friend. We've known one another for a long time, and I feel we know one another better than perhaps anyone else does or could know."

Revkr straightened a bit; he looked guarded now, and unsure.

He took a deep breath. "To that end...I am confident I know who it is you claim to love, that has remained beyond your reach."

"...who, then?" Revkr asked quietly.

Feeling as though his heart was attempting to crack his ribs wide open, Edmont let his gaze drop to his lap for a moment to allow him a few precious seconds to gather himself. "...'tis me, isn't it? The mirror on the wall...the times I've been married, the responsibilities of a Lord to lead and produce heirs, the given power imbalance there would have been for a Lord to become involved with a knight under their command... Through fate and societal pressures and expectations, so I remained out of your reach."

Revkr's only immediate reaction was a hard swallow; Edmont watched his face carefully, looking for anything to hint at where the man's mind was.

When he could stand the silence no longer Edmont continued. "And... And I have thought about this for quite some time since I came to that conclusion. It seems...how long, my friend? How long have you been keeping this from me?"

Revkr let his chin drop to his chest, letting out a long sigh. "'tis hard to really pin down the time...I first realized it when I was just a young man beneath your house's banner. It was hard to even admit to myself the truth of it -- it was always women, before you. In fact, it has always been women, there's never been another man. I couldn't fathom why you grabbed my affection as you have, and as you said... There were far too many things in the way for me to even entertain the thought of admitting the truth. And even then I didn't think I could be...enough, because it was never a lustful love. No raging fire of desire, only a deep and quiet longing assuaged by being in your company."

"That long..." Edmont murmured. "That long, and you've had to suffer every moment of it..."

"It is not suffering. Do not think you've caused me harm over the years," Revkr said, leaning toward him.

"But I have, haven't I? Unintentional though it was... I wish I had known sooner - both of your feelings, and of my own."

"Your...own?"

Edmont nodded, letting out a somewhat bitter laugh. "Ah... It's funny, is it not? That my ex-wife would accuse me of being unfaithful with the one person in the world who was actually hiding their affection from me. In the heat of the moment I thought it absurd, but...perhaps, she saw something in me that took someone else pointing it out for me to realize.”

Revkr straightened in his chair, mouth hanging open slightly. Edmont stood from his chair and crossed the short distance between them, lowering himself to sit on his heels next to the man’s elbow.

“...the thought of spending what years are left, with you...I don’t detest the thought. In fact, I welcome it -- someone I trust and love, and delight in the company of. As ridiculous as it sounds there is hardly any difference from how I spent my time with my ex-wife, and how I spend time with you. And while it seems...odd to me, to reframe how I think of you, I also find it is the easiest thing in the world now that I feel I’m allowed to.”

Revkr slowly reached up and removed his glasses, rubbing at an eye before inhaling deeply and holding his breath; after a somewhat worryingly long time, he exhaled and matched his gaze. “Edmont... I can’t explain how elated I am to hear that...and yet, can you be certain you want this? My destiny is endless sojourn...I will be here and gone as duty demands of me, I may return broken or not at all. I-”

“-it is no more of a concern to me than how I fear for your health and safety now,” Edmont interrupted. “If we must ruin this moment with needless worry, the only thing I can think of is we must be exceedingly careful with how we proceed. We may never be free to join together publically, as my ex-wife’s rumors will cease being rumor in society’s eyes if we give any sort of hint as to where our hearts lay. I will not have her pettiness or vindictiveness bring foul opinion down upon your family.”

“...so we continue as we always have, and keep to ourselves behind closed door.”

Edmont nodded. “As much as I would otherwise not hesitate to make my happiness known...”

Revkr let out a short huff and Edmont could hear and see in his face a varied mess of emotions leave the man; he slipped his glasses on and after a pause Edmont pushed himself up with his toes to wrap arms around him and hook his chin over the man’s shoulder.

After a moment Revkr did the same, squeezing him close; the embrace was interrupted by Revkr’s linkpearl sounding off - Edmont was close enough to hear it chime and could almost make out the voice on the other end.

“Damn it...” Revkr muttered.

There was a reluctance to release one another but after a few breaths longer they separated, with Edmont returning to his chair and Revkr pressing a finger to his linkpearl.

“Yes? ...aye, I’ll be along shortly. ...no, merely discussing a final private matter.” He let his hand drop limply to his lap, glancing over to Edmont. “...I must leave. The people of Thavnair and Garlemald both need my help yet.”

Edmont offered him a warm smile. “Then I shall see you at home when you return.”

A wide smile broke across the man’s face and he stood, waiting patiently for Edmont to grab his cane and stand with him.

Outside of the manor Revkr walked with Edmont beyond several of the surrounding houses before pausing at a streetcorner.

“I am due at the airship landing. I will send word ahead when I am returning home...I believe we’ll be due a dinner and drinks.”

“Indeed. ...be safe, Revkr,” Edmont said with a smile.

Edmont watched until Revkr was out of sight down the street; he exhaled loudly and realized this would be a sight he would need to grow accustomed to...watching Revkr hurry off to save whoever needed saving. There had always been an underlying worry for him, and a prayer that he’d return unharmed -- it certainly weighed differently now.

As Edmont turned his steps toward home- ...damn, what a word. Home. He’d told Revkr he’d see the man once he was back home, and Revkr had suggested dinner and drinks when he was home...but where was home now? His manor? The Stormforge manor? Both?

That...would be something they’d decide later. Together. When he was home.

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #edmont de fortemps #wol

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