#court of wanderers spoilers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theitgirlnetwork · 1 month

Text

Earn it

Ch. 1: You Boys Really Like to Play Doubles

Note: Okayyy another one in the lineup. Now that I'm back in my account I think I am going to make an update schedule. I hope you all enjoy this new series along with the others and let me know what you think. This first chapter is mostly backstory building but this story is my chance to be messy lol. It will have spoilers for challengers, but also a lot of things are changed. Please feel free to interact and give feedback (constructively) it inspires me to hear from you all. This obsession came fast so I feel like I already have so many ideas for these characters. This one is short because I was dipping my toe in but they will get longer! The aesthetic board for this story will be on the masterlist in a couple hours! Thank you and enjoy!

Tashi Duncan is an athlete. Hell, she’s the athlete. Of their arena. Of their time. She’s good. Great. Passionate. Beautiful…in the words of Art.

Sexy as shit in the words of Patrick and just about every other man who managed to lay eyes on her. She’s something to marvel at. And they did. Marvel. Art and Patrick stand there, jaws slack, eyes locked on the girl as she moves about the dancefloor absently. It’s like the opposite of how she moves on the court. There she’s a predator. Moving quickly, calculated, with strength. Here she’s graceful, eyes closed and enjoying the motions.

It’s their chance. A chance to meet her. To flirt with her. Con her out of her number when she wanders away from the group of women she’s dancing with over to the couches to retrieve her drink. It’d be easier to talk to her alone. They do their best work in a double, and as far as they knew, she had no partner. As far as they knew.

And they’re basking in her attention. Taking turns in a whole new match. When one gets the gift of her gaze the other’s smile drops like a puppy waiting for its turn to be played with, her easy smirk resting comfortably on her face the whole time. Until she comes.

“Made some friends?”

The two of them can’t help but have the same thought. Art was admittedly more ashamed to have it but they both had it. There’s two of them.

“These guys are in the tournament. They play tomorrow.” Tashi smiles, holding her hand out to the girl and helping her step over the table so she can sit down next to her. Both men offer her their own hand to help her the rest of the way but she simply squeezes Tashi’s harder.

Patrick and Art don’t know where to look. Before the girl’s arrival Tashi was the only person worthy of admiration here. She’s stunning, abnormally beautiful. But so was her friend. She had a darker complexion, with full lips coupled with a pretty smile. She tosses her silky dark hair over her shoulder, exposing more shiny skin. Her pink, strapless dress compliments Tashi’s royal blue one so much that even two men with no knowledge of women’s fashion would guess the choice was purposeful. They exchange looks as the women cross their legs in sync, Tashi handing her half-drunk beverage to her friend who rolls her eyes with a small as the boys’ eyes drop to her mouth. “Are they any good?”

Tashi hums thoughtfully, tilting her head lightly as if she needed to observe them to determine that. “From what I hear? Sometimes.”

“Not good like you though.”

That takes them aback for a moment. I mean, Tashi just won a tournament, she’s proven herself enough to pass judgment, all this girl has proven to them is that she’s hot. Who’s she to decide that they weren’t in the same league as Tashi. They weren’t, but who was she?

“You, uh, know that just from looking at us?” Art asks, finding himself sitting straighter at the scrutiny, the unimpressed looks on the two girls' faces getting to him as he wonders what it would take to change them.

All the girl offers is a shrug and a small smile around the straw, earning her a giggle from Tashi.

“You know, we didn’t get a chance to see your match. What’s your name again?” Partick’s brows furrow as he glances between his friend and the two women.

The smile drops from her face and her lips curve into a frown, cheek dimpling in a way that almost has the men forgetting she’d insulted them. “Wow.” she scoffs.

“You’ve got balls. You came to my party to talk shit to my best friend?”

That has them scrambling, stuttered half apologies from Art and sarcastic denials from Patrick. Anything they could blurt out to convince Tashi and her mystery friend to stay. All of it interrupted by their burst of giggles.

“We’re just fucking with you.” The girl leans her head back against the cushion, puffing out laughter that makes Art’s head feel like it’s swimming. He blinks at the feeling and takes his own deep breath. “I’m Heaven, I’m nobody, I don’t play tennis.”

“Nobody? You don’t seem like nobody.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice when he says it.

“Nobody is nobody.” Patrick cuts in.

Tashi gives the girl a disapproving look that would put ice in the mens’ veins, pursing her lips in agitation briefly before turning back to the guys in front of them. “She’s Heaven Whitlock, she’s my best friend, and the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.”

Heaven lifts and drops her shoulder noncommittally, taking a deep sip of the drink. “Yeah. I’m the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.”

The girls left soon after that so that Tashi could take pictures and once they were done, they were pleased to discover that the boys had waited to hang out with them more. The group made their way down to the beach and found themselves talking about all sorts of things. Life, Tashi’s earlier match, tennis as a spirituality. They were shocked to learn that Heaven knew a lot about the sport and could even play a little. But based on how they described it, she only knew enough to help Tashi train.

Patrick felt aggravated and outnumbered by the fact that all three of the others were going to college.

“Okay, so she doesn’t want her only skill to be hitting a ball with a racket. What the hell are you going to school for Miss Ballerina?”

“Train. I can get better.” Heaven shrugs. “Get my name out there too, before I join a company I mean.”

“Can we see something?” Art blurts from his seat, shaking out the ash from his cigarette. “Like your favorite trick or-”

Heaven’s face lights up slightly. Her back has been straight up all night, her shoulders rolled back with poise, but she perks up in excitement at the thought of the opportunity to dance. “I like doing Fouette turns-”

“Heaven, in sand?” Tashi whips her head to look at her friend. “You don’t even have your shoes. You have your first audition for your school’s fall show when we get back don’t you?”

Heaven rolls her glossed lips inward, nodding, eyes dropping to the sand briefly before they return to the men in front of her. “Maybe another time.”

“Another time. There’s gonna be another time?” Patrick leans back in his seat, looking between the two women smugly. “Does that mean I’m gonna hear from you two again?”

“I’ll see Art at Stanford. Heaven will visit.”

“He’s asking for your numbers.” Art offers. “So am I.”

Heaven’s brows furrow as she stands dusting sand off her hands before she helps pull Tashi to her feet. “Both of you?”

“Yep.”

“Want both of our numbers?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh, you boys really like to play doubles, huh?” She’s met with cheeky smiles and a shrug from Tashi. “Well, I have a boyfriend, so…” she grins, gesturing to Tashi. “May the best one win boys.”

The boys crane their necks briefly to follow Heaven’s walk up the hill, her sandals in hand, watching as she turns expectantly, holding out her other hand for Tashi to come up and take. They barely get out their offer for Tashi to come to their room later before she’s making her way up the hill. Her long legs carry her to her friend, whose hand she takes before swinging their arms back and forth, singing along together to whatever song is playing in the distance together.

As soon as they’re out of sight Patrick whips his head to face Art, a wild smirk on his face.

“Which one do you want?”

“So…which one’s your favorite?”

“Patrick’s got more natural talent, that’s for sure, but he’s stubborn, doesn’t wanna learn anything new. Art- what?” Tashi tilts her head at her friend’s scoff, moving to sit next to her at the small desk chair, watching as her friend rubs lotion into her face. “What?”

“Nothing, T, tell me about Art.” Heaven laughs, shaking her head. Tennis. Always about tennis. Poor boys.

“Art wants it more right now. And he’s good. Could be great." She stands walking over to the closet and tugging on her jacket. “You set your alarm?”

“4:30, T. Gotta get our run in and practice for my audition before the tournaments start.”

“Mm, good girl.” she smiles, dropping a kiss onto the top of Heaven’s head. “I’ll have my key.”

“You’re really going? You’re gonna go to their room?” Heaven turns in the seat and watches Tashi put on her shoes. The brunette pauses to look at her friend, walking over and crouching in front of her. Her hands rest on Heaven’s legs as she looks up at her.

“You jealous?”

“Want me to be?” Heaven asks, leaning her forehead against Tashi’s with a defiant look on her face. “I know you’re not gonna fuck them.”

“Really?” Tashi hums absently. “We’ll see. I’ll be back later. Why don’t you call Trevor while you have the room to yourself.”

With that she pats Heaven’s legs, pushing off of the floor and leaving her alone in the hotel room.

Heaven takes her best friend’s advice. She calls her boyfriend. It was a mistake.

Trevor hates Tashi. He hates tennis. He hates dance. He hates everything.

He didn’t use to. He used to think the girl’s dedication was cool. He used to love to come to showcases, recitals, even some of Tashi’s tournaments. But then he realized his place in everything. His place in Heaven’s life. Dance and Tashi, those two things would always come before him.

That’s the hard lesson everyone always had to learn. Tashi was always gonna win when it came to tennis and Heaven. Tashi was Heaven’s first…period. First best friend, first kiss, they’d taken each other’s virginities. They met in middle school. Heaven had been at the community center gym with her mother, running and doing weight training while her mom took a zumba class. Out on the court was Tashi. Beautiful and focused as ever. Heaven chose a treadmill that she could watch Tashi practice out the window from. She’d been startled when the taller girl came into the building and stood next to her machine and asked her if she knew anything about tennis and if she wanted to play.

She wasn’t good. Tashi was determined to make her good enough to play with. Soon enough they were inseparable. Heaven would sit in the stands at Tashi’s games, yelling as loud as the girl playing when she won. Tashi would go to see Heaven dance, offering her applause when she won awards or starred in a show. Having Tashi was intense, but Heaven was intense too, in her own right. They were both passionate about their crafts, and loved the art of working hard. They liked making each other proud.

Tashi was Heaven’s first everything except her first love. That was dance. Her muscles stretching into beautiful motions. Using her body to tell all kinds of stories. Becoming someone else entirely over the course of a song. Heaven would die if she couldn’t dance.

She doesn’t feel like that about Trevor. He was a sweet guy, and she liked him. Despite Tashi’s constant digs that he wasn’t good enough or amounting to anything, Heaven liked him. Not everything has to be an intense feeling. Content can be good enough. I can be satisfied with content.

But Trevor wished she would be normal. He wished she wasn’t so close to Tashi. He wished she wasn’t constantly working at something. At least that’s what he said when he dumped her over the phone.

“Trev-Trevor. Trevor are you fucking serious?”

Dial tone.

Heaven’s lip curls up in frustration as she feels her eyes watering. She throws her phone against the wall, hearing the distinct crack of the screen. “Fuck. Fucking shit.” She…needs Tashi.

Pulling a baggy t-shirt over her sport’s bra and underwear she goes to the bathroom and rids herself of any evidence that she’d been crying before she heads to the room Tashi told her she’d be in. She creeps past her friend’s dad’s door so she doesn’t wake him and alert him that neither she nor Tashi were in bed. As she gets off the elevator on the boys’ floor she straightens as she goes to knock on the door, hearing the faint sounds of lips smacking and moaning.

That makes her feel worse then she did when Trevor told her she wasn’t worth the hassle.

Heaven turns on her heel and goes back to the elevator. Her bare feet pad on the rug of the hotel hallway as she wraps her arms around herself until she gets back to her door.

She ties her scarf around her hair before climbing into the bed the girls had been sharing, facing the window. The blinds rattle as the wind blows and the quiet tears on Heaven’s face are dry by the time Tashi slips into the room and into the bed behind Heaven.

The bed dips slightly under her weight and suddenly hands are planted onto Heaven’s side. “Hev, I’m back…I had fun. Come on, I know you’re awake.”

“Cool.”

“I hooked up with them.”

Heaven turns then, laying on her back as Tashi leans over her, her hair making a curtain around her. “Which one?”

“Hmm…both. We didn’t have sex or anything but…I made out with both of them…and then they made out with each other. S’fun.” Tashi grins, flopping on her back next to her friend.

“They…ever done that before?”

“Nope” she smiles, popping the ‘p’ loudly. Both girls burst out into laughter as they think about the difference between their friendship and the two boys they met, so similar yet so different.

“You’re evil. You fucking homewrecker.”

“Ahh, they’ll be alright. It’ll be a good fuckin’ match tomorrow…winner gets my number.”

Oh.

“Trevor dumped me today.”

Tashi turns on her side at that. Her ever-inspecting eyes scan Heaven’s face before narrowing a little. “No bullshit? Good fucking riddance. Should’ve dumped him when I told you to. Damn, would’ve been an even better match if I knew that earlier. Imagine how they’d play if the stakes were the winner gets both of us at the same time.” She laughs, putting her legs under the blankets. “It’d be fucking funny.”

“Yeah, T. Fucking hilarious.”

Tashi is at the courts by 5 am the next morning, and Heaven is running on the beach. She normally loves training with here friend, but right now, she needs a fucking break. Being drilled about the audition or talking about this deathmatch for Tashi’s phone number doesn’t feel like something she wants to do right now.

Still, her and Tashi’s workout playlist blasts in her ears as she fights the sand’s resistance, panting out breaths to Lose My Breath by Destiny’s Child. That is until she sees something moving out of the corner of her eye.

It’s the blond one. She wasn’t sure which one’s name was which, but to her, the blond one was the cuter one. She liked his smile and he looked like he had a nice body under his baggy shirt yesterday. His tight athletic tank today shows her she’s right. Popping an earbud out, Heaven slows to jogging in place, offering him a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, you’re up early, aren’t you?”

“Might not play tennis, but I’m still an athlete. I get up at 4:30 everyday. Clearly you do too.”

“Uh,” he adjusts his cap on his unruly blond hair before covering it back up, matching pace with her in her jog. “Not really, but the match is in a couple hours and I gotta explain to my family how to watch it. There’s a lot of them. And Patrick snores.”

“I see. Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it if you’re gonna get with Tashi.” His mouth opens and closes at that, like he’s shocked she knows he’s interested in her friend. “She told me about the stakes for today…and the other stuff.”

He falters in his step at that, placing his hands on his hips as he laughs in disbelief, before pulling her shirt over his mouth for a second to hide his face, ears red. “You guys share everything, huh?”

“Apparently you do too.” Heaven laughs, pausing in her jog to stretch her leg when she feels tightness in it, bending over to work the muscles. If her eyes hadn’t slipped closed she would see Art’s eyes dart to her backside before looking away in an attempt to be respectful. He absently thinks that Patrick is right. Hot girls usually are friends with other hot girls. “But I’m rooting for you…uh…?”

“Oh, Art. I’m Art.” he breathes, willing his eyes not to slip again.

“Short for Arthur?”

“Um, yeah, but nobody calls me that. Except my grandma when I’m in trouble.” He blushes. Heaven straightens, and offers him a pretty smile.

“If one of you is gonna be seeing Tashi, I need to know your full name. I’m sure you can carry the speech to the other one too. If you hurt her, you die, I’ll kill you little white boy, you get it right?”

“Right.” he hums, rocking on his feet. “So, you guys are close huh? She talked about you a lot last night. Fucking hates your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well, she won’t have to worry about him anymore. Done. As of last night actually. Tashi was saying she wishes would’ve known that before your little bargain. Then, it would be both her and my number on the line. What can you do?” Heaven shrugs absently. She was flirting a little. Sue her. She’d just been dumped and was finally free to start having fun. All summer she’d been traveling with Tashi, being a good little doting girlfriend, turning down every hot guy she met. Only ever having one slip up, with Tashi. She knew they both were into her friend, she didn’t expect anything-

“So raise the stakes.”

Heaven’s eyes widen as Art looks at her earnestly, looking embarrassed by his own words. “What?” she laughs.

“You can…definitely tell me to fuck off…but…we would be interested in having your number added to the…pot? Fuck, that sounds awful, Patrick and I want your number too. I want your number too. If that’s okay.”

“And you wanna play for it?”

“Those are the rules right?”

Heaven observes the man in front of her. Boyish. Cute. And nervous. He doesn’t know how hot he is. Not like his friend. Not like Tashi. He doesn’t know what he looks like. And he seems sweet enough, nervous to offend them, but determined enough to push past the embarrassment to get what he wants. “Tashi’s rules. Not mine. Do you guys want to play for my number?”

His jaw sets slightly as he looks her up and down. “I wanna earn it.”

“Okay, winner gets Tashi’s number. And mine.”

#oc #tashi duncan #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers 2024 #mike faist #challengers movie #challengers #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x patrick zweig #art donaldson x tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x tashi duncan #challengers spoilers #love #earn it

572 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 1 month

Text

The Hour of the Wolf (XI)

XI. A ray of sunlight

MASTERLIST

Summary: You never thought you could feel like this

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats,arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, might miss some warnings, brestfeeding on this chapter

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,4 k

Notes: Alright… sorry for the confusion… There were three ravens, Reader first wrote to Cregan to confess to him that she was pregnant and she wanted him back and whatnot… that raven GOT LOST, got eaten by a snake… idk… she then received a raven from Cregan, who, as he never received anything, he wrote to her telling her he was fine and he would like her to visit him up North, reader thought he received the letter, and didn’t care, and it was answering to it, so she just wrote a letter telling him she couldn’t make the journey, that’s it!

“Look at him”, you whispered, “he is perfect”, you admired his beautiful round face, his perfect little nose, his long eyelashes, his round squishy cheeks

“He is”, Cregan whispered, kissing your temple, “you had done so beautifully, my sweet Queen”, you looked into his eyes and you found content, and pride

But your eyes returned to your baby, your dragonling.

He had silver hair, beautiful silver hair, just like yours, and then when he barely open his eyes, he revealed them to be icy gray, like his father

He was so perfect, a perfect Targaryen Prince

The blood of Old Valyria and the blood of the first men run through his little veins.

You were so, so proud of him, of yourself, you had every maester check his health, and they all agreed, that the New Prince of Dragonstone was healthy, strong, and, as he had proven to you, had a strong set of lungs in him.

“My love”, called Cregan, but you only hummed, not letting your eyes wander from your newborn son, “there is people wanting to meet him”, he said softly, it was the middle of the next day, and you wanted to savor your alone time with him a little longer.

“Later”, you said simply

“They had been waiting since yesterday”, he said, kissing the top of your head again, “and we need a name”

“I just gave birth, can’t they please leave me alone for a bit?”, you asked, softly but angrily

“This baby is the next ruler of the seven Kingdoms”, he said softly, “there are protocols…”, you looked at him severely

“Bring in my brother and Jahaera”, you conceded, he barely nodded, and went away, giving you a breath of relief. You didn’t want anyone else but your family in here

The children entered with big, curious, scared eyes, when they landed on you, they came to your side quickly, Aegon was sure to be right there next to you, to catch the closest and first look at his baby nephew

“He is a bit red”, it’s the first thing he mumbled, making you giggle

“He was just born”, you whispered, “it’s normal”, you explained softly, Jahaera didn’t say anything, but looked at the baby with big ghostly eyes, and for the very first time, you thought you catched a glimpse of a smile

“Jahaera? want to hold him?”, she seemed truly surprised, you just patted the bed right next to you, and she climbed to your side, when she was settled, you placed your baby in her arms, she seemed content, only watching him in her frail arms

“He is small”, she murmured, you only smiled, he was a bit small, and… “made of ice and fire”, she whispered

“What?”, you asked, but you were interrupted when Cregan opened the door, he stood there, with a warm smile on his face.

You didn’t even know how you were going to name him, I mean, you had some ideas, and you were not even going to ask your husband, he, your firstborn, was of the realm, of the Iron Throne, he had to have a name of Old Valyria

Jahaera excuse herself, she had a lesson with her septa, but Aegon stayed, sitting there in the bed by your side, Cregan had left to gather the court

“Can I ask you something?”, your baby brother asked

“Anything”, you answered truthfully

“Now that you have a son… will you… will you still love me the same?”, he asked, and his big eyes told you he was extremely worried. That truly surprised you, but you smiled softly nonetheless.

“Of course!”, you said with a big smile, “you are my baby brother, I will never stop loving you, and I will never stop caring for you, you heard me? you are stuck with me, and your little nephew for life”, you giggled

“Really?”, he asked, hopefully

“I promise”, you assured him.

Cregan came back, thinking he had given you enough time, Aegon as he saw him, he excused himself from the room, and left

“A name, wife”, he demanded. He was the father, but he is letting you name your child, the prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne

“Aerion”, you said with your son back in your arms, “of House Stark, until he ascends the Throne, as Aerion Targaryen”, you said firmly

“Good”, he said, “the small council is waiting”, he said, and again, he did not expect a no for an answer

“Very well”, he received your son, as you stood from the bed, the maids had placed you the “looser” dress you had, but not less impressive than any others, it was soft red velvet, with black and gold details. Your hair is barely arranged by two small braids arranging it off your face.

You barely let the maids touch your child, but they had dressed him too, in a simple golden attire. He was sleeping in his father’s arms, and you held onto him too, as you walked the hallways.

You had to present your son to the court

Not letting them see him, would awaken all sorts of gossip, that maybe there was something wrong with him, or he was weak, or any nonsense like that, this was going to make it clear to everyone…

The House of the Dragon stood strong, with you, your son, your brother, and your niece.

Especially with the silver hair on his head.

“You have done beautifully, wife”, Your husband said, as he saw you pondering, with your eyes lost in front of you

“Thank you husband”, you answered simply

You were already tired as you reached the huge doors, you hoped you didn’t have to sit on the throne today, you didn’t think you could handle it. You were still really sensitive.

“Lady (y/n) of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Roynar and the first Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the Realm, and her Lord Husband Cregan, of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and Hand to the Queen, would like to present to the court, Aerion, of House Targaryen and Stark, Prince of Dragonstone!”, you might as well announce it now, the shocked faces appeared before you, your son was the heir, and next King of the Seven Kingdoms.

The huge doors of the entrance of the throne room opened in front of you, you tried to smile as the entire court, your court, tried their best they could to catch a glimpse of the sleeping Prince in Cregan’s arms

You walked slowly to the front, smiling and nodding to everyone on their way

All the Lords and Ladies nodded at you, muttering words of kindness

“Congratulations my Queen”

“What a fine Prince your grace!”

“You had been blessed, and you had blessed us all”

And more

So much more

Your council had been waiting for your approval, to start the celebrations, feasts, tournaments, parties, the first ones since the end of the war

“Behold! Prince Aerion of House Targaryen and Stark!”, chanted Arryk, you faithful Queen’s guard.

It was a tiring affair, you should be resting, and Cregan thought so as well, but you you a Queen, and if you wished to prove those who wouldn’t see your mother on the throne wrong, you have to stand there, with your newborn son, in front of the court as you barely gave birth the day before as the sun was setting

“In the celebrations of the birth of my son, I announce a big tournament, to join all countries as one, and also, a big feast to go with it!”, you said loudly, and the entire room bursted in cheers and applause, making Aerion cry angrily, as he was startled by the loud noise

Cregan smiled grabbing him carefully with his strong hands and showed him to the entire room, shortly, then he cuddled him into his strong chest, he looked so proud

The tournament was going to be held in two months time

This was a new era, you constantly had to be remained of

The kingdoms were still healing, you were still healing… you need this, you did

You were finally “allowed” to go back to your rooms, you dismissed the nannies who had offered to take your baby.

It was normal and customary, that you had a small army of women ready to take care of your child, but you didn’t want to let him out of your sight

Is not that you didn't trust them, it was just…

It felt odd

To be apart from him

You had them bring a crib by the side of your bed, as you watched him asleep tears fell down your eyes… oh how you wished your mother was there with you

You had cried for her in the middle of labor, how you needed her warmth, her maternity, her advice, all of her. She was an excellent mother, she adored each and every one of you, and you didn’t know how you were going to do this without her

You were so lonely

You had dismissed your ladies, and the nurses were unfamiliar to you

Because Aegon the Usurper killed your mother’s nurses when he took Dragonstone

You felt so lonely.

The all familiar pain that had installed on your chest came flourishing back again, and you realized it had never left, you just grown accustomed to it

Would she be proud of you?

You imagined your brothers coming to see your son, Jacaerys picking him up from his crib and raising him in his strong arms, you imagined Luke grabbing onto Aerion with gentle hands, accommodating him on his chest with his beautiful smile looking down at his nephew

The guards outside your room presented Cregan who entered the room with scrolls on his hands

“Letters, from your cousins Baela and Rhaena, and one from Lord Co…”

“Dispose of them”, you demanded, you didn’t care

“But…”

“I don’t care what those traitors have to say”, you said bluntly, he had caught you in a wrong moment

“Wife…”, he started carefully, “may I ask why…?”, he asked simply, you guessed he wanted to hear your version of the facts

“Corlys Velaryon served my mother, until it suited him, when the ship was sinking, in the moment my mother needed him the most, he betrayed her, then served the usurper!”, you said bluntly

“He probably was the one who poisoned the usurper”, he said softly

“I guess, it didn’t suit him to keep serving him, I don’t care”, you said angrily, “if he had stayed at my mother’s side like he promised perhaps she would still be here”, you said, you could not forgive him, you wouldn’t allow yourself to

And Baela and Rhaena?

It just hurt too much

At one point they were like your sisters, like real sisters, you had lived together since your mother married Daemon, and… now it just hurts too much. They say Rhaena managed to hatch a dragon, a pink little thing

Good for her

But it just… it hurts… of all the people that could have survived…

You felt guilty for only thinking about it

They were more Corlys Velaryon’s granddaughters that they were your sisters

“Can I read them?”, he asked, you looked at him

You wanted to say no, you did, but you were also terribly curious

Of what they might want or say… What if was indeed something important? and really, it was Cregan, he was the only one you trusted fully

“Yes”, you said shortly, “let me know if there is something important”. He sat by the window, to read the letter by the sunlight, Aerion began to get fuzzy, so you grabbed him gently and started to feed him

Something very frowned upon

Not even your mother had breastfeed her babies

But to your understanding… who better to feed a future King… than a Queen? his mother? You paid it no more mind as he latched onto you, Cregan didn’t even batted an eye

He was frowning a he read the missives

“Is there something they need?”, you asked dismissively, “a threat to our Kingdom?”

“No”, he said simply, “just a call for you, their sister”, he said, he folded the letters and put them away, then he opened the one of Lord Corlys

“They wish you the best regarding the birth of your child and Prince of Dragonstone, and they wish to know that if there is anything they can do for you”

“No requests… that’s a new one”, you said sadly

“Please, help me understand”, he pleaded once again, “what are you thinking?”

“They just keep wanting the fucking throne”, you said bitterly, “that is all this whole thing had been about, the Hightowers and Velaryons alike, each for their own side, sunk their teeth into the targaryen of their choice and bit, ripped and tear them apart for their own convenience, for the fucking throne, killing my entire family in the process, I am done with them”, you sentenced.

“Very well”, he said, “I will stand by you”

“Thanks”, you said smiling softly, not wanting to discuss the issue further

Even if they were true, that they only were calling for you, their “granddaughter” and sister, how could you ever trust that? if you were not seated on the throne, would they still care for you?

You were convinced they only wanting to fall back into your good graces, the graces of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and everything that meant

And the very fact that they knew about the birth of your son so soon unnerved you.

Of course they had spies inside the castle

Perhaps you should burn the letters publicly so words get to them

But it was of no consequence, because that very day, Cregan received important news

His son was arriving

He was in the Crossroads Inn, and he was dying to go and meet him

You allowed him to go with a small force, you had never seen him so happy and excited. He was on his way to meet his son

And taking advantage of that fact, that was going to take him a few days… You realized, thinking about Rhaena…

Your son needed his egg

You had felt Vhaelar restless, and you needed to know if she had laid her clutch of eggs, or, egg

Singular

The very thought frightened you, what if it didn’t hatch? She as well could be the last Dragon, a grown, fertile dragon. You called in a Dragon keeper immediately, and he presented in front of you, the one that went inside the cave with you, the only one who could get close to your Dragon

“This is long overdue, your Grace”, he said with a soft smile

“I cannot go down there myself”, you explained softly, his face then changed. “What's the matter?”, you asked him

“Vhaelar laid eggs, we didn’t know how many, when the prince was born we adventure into the cave to find… one is gone”, it seemed like everything froze around you

“What?”, you asked

“One of the nests was… broken into”, he said

“Why wasn't I informed of this!?”, you asked angrily

“We found it this very morning”, he said quickly

“Raised alarms!”, you said

“The one that stole it… didn’t realize, she laid two eggs”, he gave a signal to Erryk who was at the door and he opened them to reveal two more Dragon Keeper, that brought with them the heating chamber

A sight you never thought you’d see again

They revealed the egg to you, and tears were brought to your eyes, it was golden, golden like the sun

Was it an Omen? Golden like Syrax… Golden like Sunfyre

Who could have possibly stolen my dragon’s egg?”, you asked him

We don’t know your grace, it must have been someone who knows the area, that its been heavily guarded, even though its against the sea, you had maintain guards around it, and over it, so we can’t understand…”, you kept quiet, you could barely go up stairs, you couldn’t go personally.

That is why she was so restless

Somebody stole her egg

“What if it hatches?”, you asked him, fright in your eyes, he didn’t know what to answer

“A dragon will only answer to a Targaryen your grace, in the worst case, it will grow wild, until we can finally know where it is”

“And in the best case?”

“It’s not normal for two eggs to hatch in the same clutch”, he said softly, “if the Prince’s egg hatches… then… someone still had a treasure in their hands but at least, it will not be a dragon”

It did not settle your nerves

You saw the beautiful egg, it seemed to move, you could feel it, the life within it

“Thank you”, you said finally, and they left you alone.

It wasn’t until a week later, as you fixed the skirt on your dress, that you finally realized how important this was.

Rickon Stark, Cregan’s son, was entering the city

Your husband’s child

Your own child, by marriage

A sweet boy of eight

Soldiers entered in front of the comitive, mounted men with the Stark sigil, and then, right after them, Cregan in all his glory, and at his side, on his own horse, a young boy, that even from afar, you could tell he looked exactly like Cregan, same shade of hair, and as they dismounted and walked towards you, you realized, he had his eyes

“Your Grace, my I present to you, my son and heir, Rickon Stark”, presented Cregan

“Your grace”, the boy greeted politely, his big eyes looking at you widely, even though he bowed. Cregan was by his side, looking at his son proudly

“My Lord, you are most welcomed to King’s landing, and to the Red Keep”, you greeted, amused, he smiled shyly.

“Thank you, your grace”, he looked at you with mistrust, and you could understand him, all of this was new for him.

You of course invited them in, the entire household he had brought with him was large, but, the more the merrier, and if having more of his people with him was going to make Cregan and RIckon feel more comfortable, they were most welcomed.

“There is someone I want you to meet”, you said happily, he only nodded, you looked at Cregan as you walked back to your chambers, and he seemed content, “Can I call you Rickon?”, you asked him softly

“Yes your Grace, of course”, he said simply

“Are you my new mommy?”, he asked bluntly, and you looked at Cregan, alarmed, he was amused, but didn’t say anything, you then looked back at the boy who was looking up at you with his big ghostly eyes

“I don’t have to be if you don’t want me to”, you said gently, and that seemed to relax him a bit, “but there is a place I’d like you to fill”, you said with a solemn voice, like you were requesting of him, you opened yourself the double doors to your room

“Which one, your grace?”, he asked solemnly

“How about.. big brother?”, you asked, inviting him to look inside the cradle where his baby brother was sleeping peacefully

“I’d like that”, he said, pleased, but frowned at further inspection of your baby, “why is his hair white?”, he asked, you giggled

“Because he got it from me”, you said softly

“I thought you had white hair because you were old”, he said simply, and you laughed, hard

The sound of your own laugh seemed so foreign to you

You haven't laughed in…

In…

In a long time

“No, no my dear, I was born with my hair like this”, you explained softly, he only nodded, understanding clearly, “so… are you going to be Aerion’s big brother?”, you asked, and he looked at you with a true smile for the very first time, and nodded excitedly

taglist!

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog @aesthetic0cherryblossom @arrozyfrijoles23 @sacredmachine @wintfleur @kitkat-writes-stuff @green-lxght

#misguidedhour #targaryen!reader #targaryen!oc #house of the dragon fanfiction #hbo house of the dragon #house targaryen #cregan stark #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x you #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader

235 notes · View notes

zenithofstories · 2 years

Text

Sarah J. Maas Bonus Chapter Masterlist

Many people have posted images of the bonus chapters from Sarah J. Maas's books, and I thank you for giving us access to content we would have missed out on otherwise. However, no one has posted all of them, so I figure that I can collate the links in one place.

There are minor spoilers below the cut in the chapter descriptions, so be wary of looking too far ahead, if you have not read all the books.

Throne of Glass

The Captain and the Prince - A conversation between Dorian and Chaol before the start of TOG

The Assassin and the Captain - When Celaena arrives back at the castle from her first mission as the King's Champion between TOG and COM, Chaol is waiting to greet her

The Assassin and the Princess - Before the start of COM, once Celaena has been the King's Champion for a month, she and Nehemia do a little shopping in Rifthold

Untitled - Mistward is visited by nobles—including one of Rowan's exes—during Celaena's time there in HOF

Untitled - A bonus chapter while Aelin and the rest of her court travel through Terrasen in EOS

Untitled - Chaol and Nesryn's sea journey before the start of TOD

A Court of Thorns and Roses

Wings and Embers - Cassian goes to visit the mortal world and ask Nesta to deliver a letter to the mortal queens in ACOMAF

Feyre's Perspective - In ACOSF, after Feyre and Rhys tells her sisters about their baby, they have a conversation

Azriel's Perspective - After the Winter Solstice celebration in ACOSF, Azriel is wandering the halls, unable to sleep

Crescent City

Ruhn's Perspective - Once Cormac comes to town in HOSAB, Flynn's younger sister decides to visit

Bryce's Perspective - Part 1 - Part 2 - Cormac invites her to a luncheon at Flynn's parent's villa in HOSAB

Tharion's Perspective - Part 1 - Part 2 - Tharion reminisces about first meeting Hypaxia during HOSAB

An alternative is here; the highlights contain all three chapters

If I have missed any, please feel free to let me know, or link them in the comments/reblogs :D

#sarah j maas #acotar #tog #cc #a court of thorns and roses #throne of glass #crescent city #bonus chapters #sarah j maas bonus chapters #it was annoying me having to search every time i wanted to read one #so i just did a whole days worth of research so i don't have to again #i hope this helps #i found two chapters i've never read before #so thats a plus #reference #world of sarah j maas

3K notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

Text

Kissing Roman Roy Would Include...

Request: oh my god! your kendall roy kissing headcanons were adorable! would it be possible to get some for roman as well? i just know that man is touch starved and definitely had an awkward time kissing the reader early on in their relationship. obviously, you can choose to ignore but thank you!

Awww yes of course you can get some my love this man is 100% touch starved you’re so right <3

LADS OKAY I’M COMING BACK TO SAY THIS IS NEARLY 7K AND MY LONGEST FIC BY FAR LMAOO BABYGIRL CODED anyway comments are much appreciated because I am so tired lol ty ty ily all! :)

Warning: mentions of injuries/ blood, childhood abuse, and some swearing! Also MAJOR spoilers for Season 4!!

(I do not own Succession or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @xihatiancai.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

We all really took one look at Roman Roy and went wet pathetic disgusting meow meow man I love you, and I really love and appreciate that for all of us. Because like... if not babygirl, why babygirl coded?

The first time you guys ‘kissed’, you were both around seven years old: on the tennis court, Shiv had sent a ball flying at Roman that had bent his hand backwards, and left quite a nasty gash of blood running down his arm. Instead of comforting the brother she had just bruised for the umpteenth time, the set of Roman crawling down to sit on the grass while cradling his arm just made her furious, and she went storming off towards the kitchen for some chocolate milk to cool down. You had been watching from the doubles side line, dropping your own racket as soon as Roman began to snivel, squeezing his skin back together and wincing as warm blood gushed out onto the grass. You run over to kneel in front of him, the harsh rays of light blushing across your head like a halo as you grab onto his elbow. You press the back of your shirt against it, hoping it will do until a nurse or one of the waiters comes running out with a first aid kit; as you glance up, the furious face of his father comes pacing past the balcony doors, and so you turn Roman’s head to look at you instead, praying that he won’t spot him. It will only make him whine more. It surprises you when he curses curtly instead at the feel of your fingers pressing down hard against his wound, but when you mumble an apology he finally stops scowling down at the ground and looks up: it’s as if he’s seeing you properly for the first time. His eyes light up as you gently lean down and press a kiss against the bloodstains; just the slightest hint of pressure, and tingling warmth of your your lips is enough to send a flourish through his body and make Roman Roy feel nourished. No longer withered, no longer left to rot. Roman gazes up at you: past the dappled sunlight, past the dotted clouds, past the earth and skies and heavens, and past it all he sees you.

You’re the first and last person he’s ever wanted to kiss. Like craving poison, he knows it will pass through and destroy him if he allows himself to indulge. But by god, if it wouldn’t taste so sweet as it pours down his throat and overwhelms every dilapidated part of his body.

The first time he works up the nerves to kiss you back, is in one of the pool storage huts just past the outer boundaries of his father’s estate. Shiv had finally convinced her father to allow her out into the city to go shopping for some new suits, and Ken had been chained into a business meeting to take notes for Logan, so Roman had been left all alone to wander around the ostentatious shadows and lonely halls of the house he hated to call home. Feeling trapped, like he couldn’t breathe, he wanders towards the ‘safe space’ the two of you had created a couple of years ago: a small nook you and Roman had spent the day nestling out (and nearly breaking his arm shoving unused surfboards and pool cleaning chemical boxes) in the dim, and slightly damp room. Finally feeling at home as he stepped into the mildew-steeped scent cloud that enveloped the square box stuffed full of things his father had wanted out of his sight, his heart is allieved to spot you already there. You don’t even have to look up from your book as he comes dawdling towards you like a puppy afraid it’s about to be kicked. When you open your arm up to him willingly, the true him comes leaping forth: like a darting hummingbird, he comes flying into your side, nestling his chin on the hard part of your shoulder so he can scan the words lazily past your head. After about half an hour of him gripping onto your shirt, as sweet and softly as infant spring, he glances up towards your face and an overwhelming urge overtakes him. Before he can stop himself, before he can make sense of his decision, before he can chide himself for his weakness, he lifts his head up and presses his lips firmly, if a little harshly, against the side of your cheek. Your book crashes to the floor with a thunderous slap, lifting a small cloud of dust as you raise your fingers to the wet spot in surprise. He immediately shuffles backwards at the noise, before making an awkward, fumbling excuse and running out the door.

He never brings it up again, but whenever you’re round at the Roy residence after that you can feel the intensity of his eyes land on you far more often. He blinks away and scratches the back of his neck nonchalantly whenever you catch him, or sometimes scrunches his nose up and starts biting the edges of his fingernails if he’s really nervous. But the love is there. He just can’t say it yet.

Once, when you were the only person in the house besides Connor and Logan, you were asked by the second-born eldest son to help him find Romie. With a concerned sigh, Connor wanders off to check behind the bathroom door off the living room, his lips forming a tight line as he disappears off down the corridor. Turns out, Logan had found out that Roman had been the one to spill his ice cream cone in the car on the way back from his fencing lesson, and Roman had run off cursing and crying when he heard the roar reverberate out from his father’s office at the news. You know where he is, instinctively. Of course you do: you don’t even need to think as your feet guide you towards his bedroom, and your body shrinks down to scoot under the bed and lie on the pristinely clean floorboards. He’s hiding behind the tendril weeds of his fear, making himself as small a target as possible as he balls himself up, trembling like heavy branches when lanced with frost. From behind his raised elbows that protect his face, he’s sniffling, his feet leaving the ground every few seconds from how harshly they shake. You lie down carefully on your side beside him, so hyperaware of any part of yourself brushing against him, in case the wounded creature decides to bolt. Thankfully, he comes sliding towards you, only stopping when your chest does the job for him; being as physically close as he can get to you, he huddles into your embrace while you stroke back the few curls by his ear. Once you’ve finally managed to choke back your own tears, your lips latch onto the spot of skin by the lobe of his ear, eyes closing and ticking his skin. He warbles against you, shivering, and the kiss just makes him whine more harrowingly against your chest.

Romie’s always around you. Always. He finds it difficult to actually be physically intimate, so it says quite plainly (even if you can’t understand it yet) that you’re the love of his life when he comes barrelling down the front stairs of the veranda and straight into your hug whenever your first foot falls onto the estate. It also means that during family dinners, when he’s finally mastering the skill of slouching back in his wishbone chair and tuning out all the horrible and spiteful things wrapped up in faux sincerity his family are saying about each other, he turns instead to kick your feet under the table. The brush of his ankle against your shoe is soon followed by the heavy pressure of his fingers reaching over onto your lap and entangling with your own. When the two of you are finally excused, you decide not to go back inside straight away. Instead, the two of you go for a dander around some of the verdant fields around the edges of the property: a few green patches here there that are filled with the scent of honeysuckle and freshly blooming rainbows splattered amongst the dirt. You decide to stop and sit for a while on the edge of a cobbled stone wall, laughing as Roman nearly falls off the uneven patch as he settles down beside you. He shrugs you off with a wave of his hand, but he’s smiling as you pluck a daisy from between the blades and tuck it behind his ear. For a while, the two of you just exist: watching the sunset brew violet and lilac gleams across your eyeline, talking shite and poking fun at each other, until Roman shyly takes a break from his rapid talking to blink slowly. He leans his torso forward, and after a bashful burn flickers over his cheeks, he squeezes his eyes shut and plants a wet kiss against your cheek, just like he had done all those years before.

He climbs into your room later that night, and you nearly hit him with a baseball bat when you come strolling out of your bathroom to see a teenager laying splayed out in a heap on your rug, a few pages of your homework flying over your desk from where he had banged his knee and tripped. With a lopsided grin, he decides to just stay lying there (once you had convinced him that you weren’t going to actually hit him). Sometimes Roman just likes to watch what you’re doing: to observe as an outsider what normality, what contentment should and could feel like. As you sit by your lamp and finish off your english essay for the next morning, you notice with furrowed eyebrows that Roman is moochier than normal tonight: he keeps squirming, rolling about and whining as if he’s debating something in his mind. That’s why when he’s gripping onto the ivy and finally climbing back down into the darkness later that night, you grab onto the collar of his sherpa jacket and heave him up through the air like a flustered bird towards you. After his initial surprise at the feeling of you pounding your lips against his own, he melts into you: clumsily, messily, desperately, but with one hand gripping so hard onto your window frame that he splinters the wood. His top lip refuses to let you go: capturing onto your bottom lip over and over and over again, the sweet taste of cherry flooding your senses as you bite down on the lip forcing its way into your mouth. When he pulls away, he looks so uncharacteristically serious for a moment as he hovers a few inches away from your face. His eyes never break from your lips, as if he he looks away the miracle he’s been graced with might fly away and he’ll be left with the hellish nightmare of his normal reality. But it doesn’t, and so you let him go.

He burns a crimson red and starts muttering incoherently as his feet work their way back down the garden lattice, but he’s got this giddy smile and a spring in his swishing walk the whole way home.

I mean, like, of course Connor invited you on the camping trip. And man, I mean the tension that had been expanding between you and Roman over the last few years was becoming more and more obvious to his brothers, and it pierced Roman’s heart with a stroke of fear when he realised it was to him as well. Connor’s little fishing expedition by the river turned out a little differently than he expected: instead of a placid moment between family, learning and teaching new skills together and bonding over one activity they could all share in, it was more of a ‘watch little gremlin Roman flirt obnoxiously with Y/n and, once again, ignore everyone else’ fest. Kendall sat on the shore, itchy against the reeds of grass and sighing every time he looked down at his watch. Connor was still having fun, though, from where he was wading his brand new, and never worn again wellies into the shallow end of the creek. It was just that every now and then he would have to trip over his fishing line and scoot to the right to avoid large splashes of weedy water landing on him; Roman had decided a much better use of his time was to try and pull up handful of mud and chase you around the river side with it. Your squeals, as you ran around the tamarack trees and peered around the sides like a meerkat, could be heard from the campsite. So, too, could Roman’s hyena laugh as he went laughing around the bend after you, and Connor had to spend half the night ignoring your shared snickers as he apologies to camper after camper.

I don’t even know how, but somehow the two of you managed to convince Connor that it was a great idea for you and Roman to share a tent. Thanks to Kendall’s pointed warning for the two of you to behave and ‘not embarrass the family name anymore’, you were both surprisingly well behaved during the night. Mainly due to the fact that before you fell asleep, you leant over and left a chaste kiss against Roman’s cold forehead, before turning onto your side facing him and wishing him a goodnight. He wiggled down into his sleeping bag like a little worm as the electricity from your touch spread down like firebolts through his body. That man did not sleep one wink that night. Not one. Instead he rolled onto his left side, and chose to spend his time contemplating you: taking you in. The milky buzz of twilight flooded through the loose zip, the chirp of bouncing crickets on the darkened rocks outside match the intense thudding of his heart. Fumbling his fingers up so they rested underneath the side of his jaw, he made himself comfortable as he observed the way your chest rose and fall: the way your nose crinkled up in disgust when you were in the throes of a weird dream, the way your mouth mushed as you turned more into the stony ground. How much he loved you. How happy he could be if he could just summon the bravery to tell you. How fucked he was. How, if he did, his father would immediately utilise it, weaponize his love against him.

Roman wasn’t stupid, but he was. He didn’t know if he could find a way to escape this cage. Deep in his heart, he knew there was no key to this dog kennel, to this bird cage, to this leash. But he lay there, still, dreaming of freedom.

You get invited along on their family holidays a lot, mainly because Logan spends his whole time on phone calls and not mentally being present so he doesn’t really notice you’re there. If you and Roman aren’t spending the afternoons sitting together on a sun lounger, reading aloud softly to him by the pool side, it’s spent actually in the pool. A freshly seventeen year old Roman had seemed nervous, besides the usual annoyance at having to wear nothing but swimming shorts: shaken all day; when you touch his pinkie finger and grip onto it, silently asking him with your stern expression if you were okay, only the most miniscule of grins could cross his face in response. He still seemed unsettled in the water, besides the fact that Shiv’s foot nearly thwacked him up the face as she and Kendall wrestled each other under the water, both unrelenting in their accusation that the other had lost their splashing match. While you watched on in horrified curiosity, you nearly jumped when you felt Roman softly touch your elbow and lead you away from the affray. You think he’s trying to guide you towards the Jacuzzis as you bob across the water, or perhaps back to his room to escape the antics of his family. Instead, Roman leads you further into the deep end for a moment; after a sharp turn right, you’re surrounded by a small well, a shallow area just out of sight of the main swimming area. The imposing walls loom over your head as you take a perched seat on the brick bench that runs around the semi-circle, and Roman’s breath trembles as he follows suit, sitting maddingly close to you. You open your mouth to ask him what’s going on, but before you can get a squeak out he’s lunged at you, fervently enough to make you nearly bite your tongue. It’s not super romantic, and it’s incredibly clumsy as an inexperienced Roman Roy mashes his lips against your bottom one until he can feel his teeth clash against yours. You can taste a touch of pineapple from the inside of his mouth as he sloppily raises his cupid’s bow, and soon after the tang of chlorine as he falls too far forward and sends you both tumbling backwards into the water. But when you come back up for air, heaving him up by his underarms and staring dumbstruck at him as he pants heavily and tries to look anywhere else, you burst out giggling. Roman’s smile grows brightly enough to blight the sun as he looks incredulously at you, the laughter only stopping short on his lips when he catches the squinting look of his sister watching the two of you from the boundary edge.

It’s the first and last time Roman Roy kisses you for a while, terrified that one of his siblings will go squealing to daddy and he’ll take you away from him. And then, suddenly, the two of you have grown up. Roman’s still stuck to you like glue, but the repression festers away in his stomach until he feels as if some kind of scaly tooth monster is gnawing away at his insides. He feels the leather tighten around his neck whenever he’s standing like an affronted ostrich in that office with his father, his master, his demise, his ghost, him.

So, Roman starts to try and avoid you whenever he’s at Waystar, worried that the grief that never seems to leave his mind will strangle you if he lets you in. Terrified that his father will die, but also that his father will never die. That this is just another cage. Eventually, after weeks of him turning on his heels with a manic jolt and running out of every board room he spots you in: after months of the child dressed up as a man putting his phone to his ear and having nonsensical phone calls every time he passes you in the corridors, you manage to nab him when he’s walking out of the break room. Even though a stuttering cousin Greg thinks you’re trying to kidnap him when you grab Roman by the collar and start dragging him to the elevator, you refuse to let go until Greg’s waving hand is firmly shut behind the metal sheets. You let go, and he fumbles backwards onto the hand-rail that runs around the small rectangle with a bemused ‘what the actual fuck’, but you just cross your arms and stare at him, refusing to talk first.

Your austere façade quickly drops, and you’re quick to slam your first into the emergency button on the panel, gripping onto Roman’s sleeve as the elevator lurches to a stop between the twenty-second and twenty-third floors. A kind of acceptance has washed over Roman, some kind of known and familiar claustrophobia from having spent his whole life locked up, his whole life thrown about sets in. He picks at his fingernails as his eyes dart about, wild and brutal and crushing as he looks around for an escape route. It’s only when you put a hand on his shoulder and draw him in for a hug that he breaks down; he squats down so the two of you are resting a few inches off the floor, his face buried just atop of your heart as he shakes and he cries and he allows himself the security to just crumble. To melt down. To kick his feet and hope his father feels the wring of the shackles against his own ankles. He hopes for the first time in his life, as you stroke the back of his head and shush him comfortingly, that they hurt him.

Something changes between the two of you that day. You’re kinder to each other, and slowly to yourselves. It’s not outspoken, or rushed, or ravenous, but it begins to grow and grow and grow until it’s not only confusion and anguish that lies at the pit of Roman’s rotting core.

It starts with him becoming more comfortable showing affection to you around his family. Like you sitting on Roman’s lap at Shiv’s wedding reception, not listening to the speeches but trying to hide your giggles in Roman’s palms as he’s busy trying to take roses out of the centre piece and pin them through your hair. Or his full weight against you during the professional photos out on the balcony, and not even Shiv flicking her brother or Tom waving his hand at Roman to try and get him to behave could stop him from leaning backwards and planting a kiss underneath your jawline once the man said he was taking the final photograph. The two of you go out into the gardens later that night, trying to escape the ear-hammering loud beats of the D.J., and to try and make an early escape from the growing fight that seemed to be coming between Tom and Shiv’s old work acquaintance. With two beers and slightly tipsy heads, you sit down and talk on the dew-ridden grass, shoulders swaying against the other’s in time with the falling pine leaves. You felt like children again, and against the smouldering clash of fireworks that brandished the sky in bursts of red and gold, you both felt undying as well. He kisses you then, his hand reaching up to brush against the side of your cheek, his bottom lip teasingly tugging at your bottom lip and making you swat him away with a laugh. As you take his hand in your own and press a promise filled kiss against his middle knuckle, he hopes that one day he’ll be able to kiss you at your own wedding.

When you know he’s having a rough day at work, you like to try and sneak into his office and wrap your arm around his stomach, peppering kisses up and down his spine. Although he tries to shake you off like a startled starling at first, when he realises that you also managed to close the blinds on your way in without him noticing, he quickly relinquishes himself onto your barrage of adoration. He becomes all whiny, and soft, and needy, and all the things he’ll never allow himself to be outside of the security blanket of this closed off room. Although he still isn’t comfortable with anything too sexual, you won’t find him complaining as he wrestles you to the sofa. Once you’ve had the wind knocked out of your lungs, and Roman’s satisfied with how fully you’re splayed out on your back before him, he’ll go scuttling over to the end of the sofa and kneel down beside it. With a mischievous glimmer in his eye, he’ll swish his hips from side to side and come crawling up the sides of his body like a wolf slinking towards its dinner. Then he attacks: his tongue heavy and slick as he draws a hickey out just under the pulse point on your neck, pressing him firmly against you if you try to squirm away, chiding you with a warning. When it becomes too much, he lets you grip him up by his tie and walk him backwards until his thighs hit his desk. He jumps up to perch on it, and you stand between his legs as they tighten around you. You’re slow and careful as you loosen the material between your fingers, opening the first button of his shirt, and only the first so he doesn’t become too uncomfortable, with a satisfying loud pop. He whimpers as you lean over to scrape your teeth against the exposed skin, working your way up until your lips are tantalisingly hovering over the stubble on his jaw. He can feel your breath, hot and unsteady as it pants against him, but he still can’t stop the shiver that racks through him as he takes your hand and guides them under his shirt. With your hands firmly planted against his abdomen, you look at him quizzically, worried, but he just keeps his fingers on top of your own and answers you by sweetly pressing his top lip over his own. Just once, he wanted to feel safe, to feel okay with the love of his life touching his body.

The two of you have this game where you try to steal kisses from each other during the most inappropriate and annoying times possible. Oh, Shiv’s trying to talk to you in her kitchen about how her trip to England went? Roman barges in between the two of you, nearly making Shiv chop her thumb off, just so he can interrupt his sister by smirking against your mouth. Kendall wants to run through a presentation the two of them have to give the next morning? You’re grabbing onto Roman’s head as you run through the office, nearly giving him a heart attack as he scrambles backwards and allows you to drop his head back onto the cushion. With a full plant landing on his already pliant lips, Kendall’s left with a fed-up ‘hey’, yet unsurprised look of disappointment on his face as you run off back to your own desk.

When his father called Romie a moron in Prague, the look of desolation that crossed through his teary eyes was enough to make an angel weep. But it broke you even more when he pattered out of the dining area, walking shoulder to shoulder with you, but not saying anything. He was just staring down at his hands as if they were blotted: stained with specks of blood, and he would have to spend another sleepless night scrubbing them out of his skin. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, but it was the first time you were there to hear it too, and you weren’t going to let him get comfortable wallowing in that fearful acceptance. You grip onto his shoulder and steer him away from the milling crowd of sheep, stuffing him into a bathroom stall of the east wing of the hotel. Crowded together, Roman’s hamstring bumps against the porcelain as the two of you scoot about until you’re standing facing each other as best as you could. He looks at you, bleary eyed, and you look at him, bleary eyed. He breaks. Choking, gasping, breathless sobs, drowning in his misery. He grabs onto your shirt, clawing into the meat of your shoulders as if he’ll sink if he lets go. He keeps babbling through bubbles of spit about how he just wants to make his father proud, how he wants to be just like him, how he wants to prove that he can rule all this too. How he can never replace him. But he can. He wants it all to burn, but he wants to stand on the ruins and be the one to plant the foundations again. To make a better world, in honour of his father: in honour of the god of war that rages within his head. You press quick kisses on his sweaty forehead whenever you can, doing your best to dodge the quick turns of his head and wiping away the trails of tears with your thumb. All you can do in that moment, as you press your lips against the side of his ear and whisper it to the most intimate, lost parts of himself, is to let him know that you’re proud of him, no matter what happens next. You always have been, and even the ghost of Logan that possess Roman can’t stop that.

The sloppy kisses he gives you the next morning omg. When the two of you are sitting on your bedroom steps, and you’re biting your bottom lip in concentration as you try to do up the buttons of his dress shirt and make him look presentable in front of his family. Like a feral dog, he uses all of his leftover energy trying to nip and bite your fingertips, catching them on his tongue and pursing them against the roof of his mouth whenever he can.

You cannot convince me that Roman isn’t a jealous bitch. Like at Kendall’s fortieth birthday party, when he finally gives up trying to get up into his special little secret treehouse club, and Shiv has left him to go ham on the dance floor instead. You finally manage to convince him into relaxing for a fricking minute, making him join you at the bar. If someone tries to grab your waist, though, or butt into your conversation while the two of you are hyena giggling and seeing who can spurt more beer into the other’s face, Roman will full on goad them into fighting him. I mean, chest puffed out, crazed look in his face, hands up by his side until they send a weak shove in their general direction. It only ends when Roman either: near topples you to press a bracing kiss against your lips, or you dragging him off and having to hold him through the brackets of his arms. In the corner of the room, over by the sheets of warbling fire that seems to be coming from a central room, you stand behind his feet and wrap your arms up his chest. You can feel the fury roll off him, allowing him a moment to blow off the steam, until his head finally falls like putty and begins to synchronise his breathing to yours again after you hold your lips against the nape of his neck.

The kisses when he comes back after being held hostage (I am doing this so out of order apologies) omg??? He clambers sombrely to sit beside you on the deck of the boat, looking so out of place and serious as he leans back against the cushions. His siblings make fun of him, and tease him, and although he realises it’s harmless and he’ll see it as a key bonding moment a couple of years down the line, in the inside the typical Roy storm is brewing. He can’t say anything: just hides behind the jokes and snide comments so the words don’t choke him. You just feel his weight fall against yours little by little, until his hand reaches out and takes your own so tightly you know it’s going to bruise. The muscle in his jaw tightens and he squeezes his eye shut in an enduring pain at the sight of his father’s helicopter coming in to land. So, for that kind second before his life comes crashing back down around him again and he has to revert back, to hide behind the brick wall again, you take him over to the railings. It’s just the two of you, the warm sea salt stinging against your grimacing faces, and the ungodly sight of a near-naked Cousin Greg lying stretched out beside the slide below you. After a few goes, you manage to unlatch his claws from the white metal and replace them with your soothing palm, rubbing semi-circles against the back of his hand. You’re here. You’re here, with him. You’re not going to let him go it alone again, if he wants.

And he does. He could cry, he so desperately does. Some of the tension falls from his shoulders as he raises your joint hands to his lips and kisses them, gracing over every inch of skin his mouth can latch onto.

You both know, in that moment, that it’s enough. It’s a promise. You’ll stick together, no matter what. You’ll love each other through everything, no matter what. You’ll stay around, no matter what or who he becomes.

Which brings me to... kissing him when you find out about the passing of his father. Standing on that boat, on the most joyous of occasions, feeling as if the whole world is shattering around you. Feeling miserable at the knowledge that deep down, some part of you is overjoyed by the news. Feeling even more downtrodden to realise, as the streaky eyes and thousand-stare faces of the Roy siblings flash back and forth in your line of sight as they pass the phone to each other, that Logan will never really be gone. They’re talking to his lifeless, empty shell through the speakers, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s here in this room. He’s staring through their eyes. Talking in their quivering, harsh voices. Pounding through their feet. Tearing them apart as they try to cling onto each other. In their accusations that burst through their mouths innately. In the ordered instructions hurled out to keep business running smoothly. Hidden between the cracks of their voices as they sharpen their words and seethe them out between clenched teeth when the slightest chance of Logan even being dead is raised. He’s here, right now, as you let go of the death grip Kendall and Shiv have on both of your hands and catch sight of Roman rocking backwards and forth on the floor.

Giving a final squeeze of apology to Connor’s arm, you take Roman out of the room before he combusts. The whole air seems to be chilled: still, like something’s lurking unspoken between the threads of air. Like you’re leading Roman through the cold remains of a morgue. He wanders around for a minute, not even hearing the click of the door as you close it behind you. Not even crying. Not even speaking. For the first time in his life, he looks so much like his father. Too much. It scares you. Until eventually he just closes his eyes and trods over to the wall, thumping his forehead down on the cool metal until it burns. He holds his hand out to you, cufflinks gleaming like the edge of a knife past the ceiling lights, as if he’s offering a contract out to you. Apprehensively, your tentative hand creeps out and places itself gingerly on top of his own. He takes it, his dry lips latching onto you until the bridge of his nose is resting now upon your hand. The deal is done.

When you get back to your apartment though, and Romie finds out that Matsson wants him to fly out and meet him in Norway... that’s when Roman gets weird. Devastated. Freaks out. Grieves. You come out from your shower, wearing one of his suit shirts as your pyjama top, and he doesn’t even give a whistle of appreciation. Instead he’s crumpled on the floor by the canopy of your bed, cradling his knees to his chest, swearing into his kneecaps furiously. But you - you, oh god, you’re the only thing that can stop him from being swallowed up by Logan’s fury. You tilt his chin up during a tangled rush of expletives I don’t dare to copy down here, a scowl setting itself into his face like stone. It begins to soften when he realises you’re touching him, when he can feel the scrape of your nail around his jugular. You do your best to warble an unconvincing smile as you turn his head to the side, so you can better wipe your bottom lip against the edge of his throbbing mouth. You mould yourself to him, working at his pace as he winces at first, before slowly falling more and more easily into your grip. His hands loosen from his arms and fall onto your triceps as he deliriously tries to come back to himself through searching through the velvety warmness of your mouth: by swiping against your tongue and choking back his grievances as you pant into his open, waiting mouth.

You wake him up the next day with a fond kiss against the tip of his nose, and for the first time in a long while he smiles before he wakes fully up. The morning light cradles his bleary face as he sleepily runs a few fingers over the edge of your cheek, before cradling himself into your side again. He feels safe, weary, anguished, loved enough to fall asleep again, after pressing a few gentle licks behind your earlobes to try and hear you laugh again. Even through it all, his main concern is you.

You trace his features while he restlessly dreams, although he squirms from time to time and alludes you to the fact that he’s secretly awake. A kiss here, between the junctions of wrinkles on his furrowed forehead. A kiss there, on the patchy stubble just underneath his left ear. A few there on the dark circles underneath his eyes, until you’re balancing over him and holding yourself up by the hands splayed over his pillow. He just needs to be reminded he’s beautiful from time to time. That he’s perfect. That he doesn’t need to try and be someone else. To encapsulate his father.

But also like, Roman fucking hates Matsson. The way he looks at you during the whole field trip, like a hunter about to swallow its prey whole. Although the continuous comments about his family, and the two new Co-Ceo’s, and the legacy of his father make him burn down to the pit of his stomach with a white hot fury, he can deal with them if he would just leave you the fuck alone. He doesn’t take kindly to anyone but him looking at his soulmate with such adoration and lust in their eyes, so if that overgrown yeti gives you the up and down check out one more time he might actually just deck him in the middle of the retreat. He bites down on his tongue so harshly that his taste buds begin to bubble and prickle with blood, deciding it best to storm off and collect his thoughts before he lashes out and does something he can’t take back. You finally manage to track him down a little way off the beaten track, winding your way over some cobbled steps to find a branched alcove with nothing but a bench and a breath taking view of the gushing river down below. He’s hunched over with his fingers knotted over his knees, his lips so tightly drawn together that at first you don’t even spot the droplets of blood until he turns with a raised eye to look at you.

He knows it’s not your fault, so there’s no convincing or apologies when you join him. Just Roman finally getting all of that pent up sorrow and distress out. After an awkward moment of bouncing your foot up and down, you decide your best course of action is to just open your arm up to him again, like you used to do when you were children. At first he raises a confused eyebrow, before the realisation dawns over his face, and his features crumble. His lips purse, his throat bobbing as he heaves the tears back down, but he can’t stop his lips from trembling as he falls into your side. That kiss was the sweetest, as he leans his chin familiarly against your shoulder and bumps noses with your own. He frowns, sobbing at the knowledge that he can kiss you, finally, in the way he’s been yearning for all his life, and yet it all feels so wrong. So upside down. So far away from what he had dreaming. The freedom feels like a tether, and yet he juts his chin out and latches placidly onto your bottom lip anyway, the tears trickling down and falling between your mouths.

It’s an act of defiance. A key sliding into the lock. He still can’t say it, but he won’t allow himself to smother the feeling anymore. The first sip of poison gliding down his throat, and Roman prays as he presses his forehead tearfully against your own, that it would kill the Logan part of him first.

867 notes · View notes

anundyingfidelity · 5 months

Text

NO SECOND CHANCES — Brother Day/Cleon XVII

Summary: A lonely space traveler happens to save from a certain death the most annoying person of the entire galaxy, the Emperor.

Pairing: Cleon XVII x female reader.

Word count: 8.1k. (oooops).

Warnings: well, spoilers for whole season 2. Language, angst (the reader wants to die, really). Talks about suicide, talks about suicide attempts, reader having nightmares, PTSD, reader is suffering too. Some hurt/comfort, some fluff? Filthy smut (included but not limited to hand jobs, unprotected sex, oral from both parts, dirty language, etc. etc.), and end of the world sex (to Beki's arsehole bitches yay🥂). Also Cleon refers to the reader as "woman" a couple of times lol. Reader has pierced ears? (wait for it). Bittersweet ending tbh.

Notes: just trying to make slow burn in a one shot because I'm a lazy fucker who doesn't like to write stories with chapters, otherwise I don't finish shit. Uh probably OOC Cleon??? I don't know. Fully inspired by my favorite trope ever: saving the bad guy and making him humble. I don't care we're four people watching Foundation, I need to write about this little piece of shit I love him so much. Cleon XVII is a himbo I said it. Not beta, we die like bitches of the Gossamer court.

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Tagging: @curiouswildi hope you like it 🥺💘

GEN MASTERLIST!

I. BEYOND

The last thing wandering his mind was Bel Riose. Fucking Bel Riose. That idiot. They had won over him; over him, who was Empire and still meant to be for years ahead. Next, the cold feeling of space was embracing him. But he felt he was not floating around anymore.

Cleon was tied to a surface. It felt like harsh, uncomfortable metal under his back. He slowly forced his eyes open, moving his limbs and trying to escape whatever it was restraining him to do so. His wrists and ankles, as his waist, were tied by a light blue particle field preventing the patient to move at all. He was met with the roof of a ship and equipment, but it wasn't any Imperial one. In panic, he moved until he was able to shake the surface he was on, panting and grunting, feeling some pain and sting resurging all over him. The headache was becoming unbearable and the sounds coming from his dry mouth finally transformed into screams. The room doors opened and a strange voice catched his attention.

"Finally, you're awake."

Cleon obliged to follow the shadow moving around, his eyes focusing to try and see who was talking. He heard steps and the sounds of metal and glass clinking around, probably looking for medication and tools as he was know fully concius. The figure finally came to view by his side.

"I will inject this, so don't move," you said, grabbing his bicep. Cleon was about to protest, but the needle was faster and the medicine was welcomed on his vurnerable system, easing the pain and calming down the headache. "Welcome back, Eminence," you smirked to him.

"And just so, who are you?" he asked chuckling to himself, licking his lips. "What have you done to me?"

"First, I saved your life and cleaned all your bloody wounds. You should say thanks at least," you sat down dangerously close by his side, on the same surface he was on.

"I did not ask you for mercy."

"Oh, but I did," you replied, a smirk on your lips. "Perhaps I shouldn't have, right?" you took a small pencil-like device in your hand from the pocket of your pants and used it to scan his vital signs. You touched his face carefully with your fingers, examining his eyes, his heartbeat, and any anomaly that might be on his system from head to toe, but the scanner found none. Cleon watched you doing so until he asked again, his voice softer this time.

"Who are you?"

"Just no one as important as you are," you said, saving the scanner back.

"Where are we?" Cleon asked, looking around. He observed he was placed in a small medical bay.

"In space, in the middle of nowhere I suppose," you shrugged, getting on your feet again. "It seems you're recovering quite well and fast. At least that's what my scanner says. So first, I think you should want some water, which I am leaving right here," you put a flask on the small table next to him. "And before I give you this to drink, I want to make sure you will not restrain or fight back at me."

He laughed, that narcissistic smile on his face. You wanted to punch him.

"You're no match for me, woman."

"Really? Then I could just throw you out there again, you know, it's not difficult. I'm spending resources on you, surely I won't oppose to that idea," you snapped back.

His smile faded slowly, thinking. If it wasn't for you, he would be dead by now, it was true. But he was so used to be immortal and undefeteable that the situation was kind of new. He only had been vulnerable and exposed to his doctors in the palace, and you were a complete stranger. And still, you had the heart to take him in your ship and save his life. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"Fuck, fine. What do you want me to do?"

So this was his way of cooperating, you thought.

"After I turn off the restraints, you will have to sit down on the stretcher. I will help you. Do not try to get up yet, you might feel dizzy."

With a nod he said to you the orders were clear. Next, the restraints disappeared in the air with a push on a button and Cleon felt a small relief. As you promised, you helped him to sit and he realized that the clothes he had before were replaced with a set of new pale grey robes that allowed him to move freely. You offered the flask to his lips, but he watched you with a questioning look on his face.

"Is only water, I swear. See?" you had a small sip from the bottle and he looked more at ease after you swallowed the liquid.

You offered the bottle again and helped him to slowly drink. Once he was done, you placed a small tray with fruits and dry seeds on top of the same table beside the stretcher.

"You might want to eat something," you said, breaking the silence under his fixed gaze. Even when he was sitting down and you on your feet it felt rather intimidating. "I'm still collecting supplies and food. You were certainly not part of the plan these days."

"So you travel alone," Cleon said, taking a small red fruit between his fingers and began to eat it.

"I do," you nodded. "Sorry if the taste of the fruit is not pleasant."

"You're doing your best," he said while eating, studying the room around him. You were not sure if he was mocking you or not. "What was your name again?"

You chuckled. "You're very interesting, Empire. Why don't you finish eating and rest before taking a bath?"

The next few hours, you left him to rest and escorted him to your quaters, the only place with a comfortable bed, so he could get proper sleep. Since there were no further questions from him, you got to your business and requested more provisions to the merchants. Traveling alone had made you some contacts and traders, from time to time you would request for food giving in exchange money or rare knick knacks, and within a day you had a small capsule with supplements heading to your coordinates with everything you needed. You just had to wait for now.

After checking the estate of your ship and confirming everything was working correctly, you went back to your quaters to see how the Emperor was doing. You were startled to see him sitting on your bed with a book between his hands. He looked like he just had a bath because his shirt was gone and his hair was wet, some droplets running down his skin. Quickly, you studied him. He was handsome, muscular, his skin had a beautiful tan, and he was tall and heavy as hell, something you noticed when cleaning his wounds and taking him inside your ship. The earring on his left ear was also interesting, you thought, for a member of the most important dinasty of the galaxy. Very rebellious for the emperor.

You also knew he heard you steping in but never looked up from the book because he was the first one to talk.

"Never I could imagine you would have books in here," he said, clearly interested on the pages.

"Yeah, not all of us are barbarians as you work so hard to convice yourself we are."

He chuckled to himself, looking at you for the first time since you entered the room.

"Are you from Korell?"

"The book gave it away, didn't it."

"This is very old," he said, closing the book. "You are for sure not allowed to have this in Korell."

"That is one of the reasons I left," you replied, looking around the place. It was obvious to you that he was pearing within your personal stuff because the old myth book was secured down your mattress. At least he didn't leave a mess and everything seemed in the right place. "I was a threat in my planet so Argo kept looking for me for some conspiracy shit and terrorism when all I did was oppose myself to his repression and freakshow," you continued, his eyes drew back to you. "They wanted me dead in Korell, but I am the only one to decide that, even when and where will it happen."

Cleon shifted on his seat, wondering why you were sharing a piece of your life to him when he didn't even know your name yet. Words and thoughts wandered his head on how would he answer to your words, compassion or empathy sometimes were difficult things to feel. But before he was able to speak, you interrupted his thoughts.

"I will leave you alone to rest for a while and will come back when it's around supper. I follow Kornell cycle of time, so you know... Just don't poke around my underwear, Empire," you dragged his title mockingly.

He laughed softly, going back to his reading.

"Thank you for the idea."

That was the first time you would hear him expressing gratitude.

II. GHOSTS FROM THE PAST

Around more than a week passed, and Cleon was healing and his wounds were not so visible now. You made sure to inject him every day and gave your quaters and bed for him to sleep and recover. He had took a pad you had in the room so he could count the cycle of days in Trantor. Hardly to admit, he found himself missing home rather than hatred. Sometimes the rage mixed with sorrow, but he forced himself to try and understand that it was a normal feeling due to the sudden lose of everything he once had.

Cleon had been up from some time now as he counted the end of the eighth day on the pad, and wondered why your daily visit was taking so long. It was a habit you had, to come in and wake him up with the medicine, and after it was done, you would tell him to eat some of the fruits and food on the tray you brought for him. He got on his feet and put a shirt on before leaving the room to search for you. On the pilot cabin, you had an improvised, small stickable mattress on the wall that had saved your life before, so you used it to sleep and rest the past few days while he cured. Cleon observed your figure lying down on the mattress, walking slowly and sensing something was not right. He found you shaking and trembling, eyes still closed and chest heavily breathing as your hand held onto dear life what he realised it was a gun.

He felt somehow frightened and confused. If you wanted to kill him, you would already have done it. You had made yourself clear on that. The tremor of your body seemed it was increasing and Cleon, with a gentless he did not know he possesed, tried to soothe you with his voice, removing the gun from your embrace.

"Shh... everything is fine," he mumbled, not sure of his words, his other hand touching your shoulder in soft circles. He was able to withdraw the gun from your hands and placed it on the floating shelf near by.

Your eyes squeezed and some tears flowed down your face as you sobbed still in your sleep. Cleon hesitated on what to do next to wake you up. He leaned again, his hand slowly tracing the skin of your arm, like he did when his brother Dawn was a child.

"Woman? Wake up," he whispered, shaking you a little bit and pating your arm softly, and when he talked again, his voice was a little bit louder. "You're having a nightmare, wake up."

And as he repeated his words over and over, your eyes opened wide, feeling your lungs able to breath again. But your senses still were coming to awareness, and automatically you slapped the face of whoever it was touching your arm. You heard him groan in pain and you rolled over the mattres, until you hit the floor, taking out a small blade from below the makeshift pillow of fabrics you used. The blade pointing at him as you looked around the cabin to find out it was only both of you.

"What- are you okay?!" Cleon questioned with a frown, rubbing his hurting cheek as he remained on the other side of your bed, the only thing separating you from him was the mattress.

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine!"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Of course you are not."

"Then why the fuck would you ask that?! It's obvious I'm not fine!" you yelled. Your body was tense and ready to attack. You felt a knot on your throat, like if you were to cry again. Silence envolved you, trying to calm down. That inner voice in your head began saying it was just a dream, and you wanted to believe it. It was all in your head. It was not real...

"Do you want to kill me?" Cleon's gloomy voice echoed.

"What? No! I would never-"

"Then why are you sleeping with a damn blaster shot and a blade on your bed?!" he confronted, screaming at you, but not daring to move as you also remained standing in the same place.

"Because I wanted to kill myself!" you yelled back, pointing the sharp of the knife to you instead. His face became stern and you realised what you had said, and what was happening. Ashamed, you threw the blade back under the pillow. "Sorry, I don't want you to know that. Forget it."

You wiped the tears on your face under his piercing and concerning eyes. You forced your head to compose and burry your nightmares and memories deep inside before talking.

"I have to inject you," you said and walked back to the room, sure he would follow behind. Once you crossed the doors, you prepared the needle but Cleon remained standing near the exit of your room the whole time, arms crossed over his chest, observing you with utter worry on his face. Why? He really did not know. Probably because you were the only human and intelligent contact he had for days now, and you had the decency to keep him alive. Though he was not going to let that in his head - yet.

"Why don't you seat?" you most likely ordered. Cleon slowly made his way to you and remained standing, tall and kind of threatening. He was Emperor, after all.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked with a careful tone.

"Nothing, Empire. Just sit," you said, coldly, waiting for him to do as you requested.

"No, I need to know," he demanded, coming closer to you, jaw clenching. Anger started taking over your being and held his gaze as you replied.

"I have the right to decide whether or not speak about my personal life, I am not one of your subjects, so sit the fuck down so I can give you the last dosis of this shit."

"I need to know if I can fucking trust you after what I just heard coming from your mouth," his voice boomed around the place.

"You really want to know?! Fine, back in Korell I lost my family, my brother, my parents, my home - everything I had they took it from me! I was the last one alive and I escaped after they killed my brother in front of me and that day is still haunting me," you muttered and felt the tears forming on your eyes, but this time, of rage. "So if it concerns your own well being, like it always has been, no, I will not kill you. But you are no Emperor here, so stop that game. Some of us never gave a fuck about you or the Empire, or the Foundation and Hari Seldon, or the Church of the Galactic Spirit -I don't care! I'm tired, I just want to be free and live peacefully!"

You had not noticed you stepped closer to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. His face was blank, as if he had been slapped again, but this time to reality. A reality he was not familiar with on his own bubble.

Quickly you grabbed his bicep and injected the dosis with him standing up. He whined in surprise. It was fast. So fast that you just removed the needle from his flesh and left the room.

III. WHAT YOU REALLY KNOW

According to the Trantor cycle, evening should be now. When you left him alone in the room, Cleon spent the next hours by himself, and since he watched you looking up for garments and food around the ship before, he made sure to get those without speaking to you. Not that you wanted to talk either. He noticed you sitting on the main pilot seat, looking at the stars and the void through the glass the whole day. He got concerned for a moment, but decided to let you be as he, also, understood that some time alone was necessary.

However, Cleon thought to talk to you finally and say something. Anything to get you back to reality and forget your bad dreams. So he found himself making his way to sit on the other chair of the ship. He prepared the words to say inside his head, but it was more difficult to speak out loud.

"I think I owe you an apology," he finally said, taking in the view of space. You nodded slowly your head. Nobody turned to see each other.

"It's nothing. But apology accepted I guess."

"It's not nothing. I rarely thought about what other citizens and planets are going through... I'm so sorry it happened to you."

"I would like to say that was not your fault, but since the Empire withdrawal from Korell, living there definitely became so much worse," you confessed, very aware of the genetic dinasty and some of the things previous emperors did, which did not change much. They were the same man after all. Cloning again and again...

"Probably should apologise for that as well," he said.

"Yeah, it's too late, but thank you."

Cleon could still sense a feeling of resentment in your voice. He thought you were right to feel that way, but he was also going to try and make you understand him.

"I never had a mother, or a father, and my brothers are the same man as me, so it's hard to understand that some people lose their family and loved ones. I was born with that loss already... That's why I wanted to end the genetic dinasty."

"You are the eighteenth?" you asked, not knowing exactly why he was opening to you.

"The seventeenth."

"That's a lot of you though. Do you remember anything from the past?"

"I do not. But our memories are always saved. Everything that happens in Trantor is recorded and kept as data. If I want to know something about a previous Cleon, I would just request it."

You turned your gaze to finally see him, he looked in awe with space as he spoke.

"So what was your motive to destroy a planet?"

He turned his eyes to you. "I believe you didn't care about Empire or the Foundation."

"That doesn't mean I want to see a genocide, your Eminence."

Cleon stirred on his seat, with a strange feeling of guilt, sadness and regret. For some reason, the title falling off your lips made everything worse.

"You saw it," he said. "How? You're no part of the Foundation, at least you're lying to me."

"No, I am not! I did a stupid space jump without course and I ended here, unfortunately." You were growing tired of the conversation. "I don't know why we keep talking. We're both shitty people anyway."

Cleon chuckled, not to mock you, but because of the whole situation you were in together.

"I know you are. Brave enough to kill yourself, taking another life is nothing compared to your own."

You locked your gaze with his, thinking if he was he judging you or flattering you.

"And have you, like, tried to end with your life at some point? You must feel lonely, under the shadow of a clone, not allowing you to be, well, you."

He let out a deep breath, avoiding your eyes.

"I have not, but my genes are already compromised and adultered. No surprise if any of us dared to commit suicide before," he replied, looking to the void. "In any case, if something out of the ordinary is to happen to my brothers or myself, we have another clone with our same memories, same age, everything; prepared to be woken up and take our place. Like if we never existed."

"That's fucked up," you scoffed. "We are never trully free, are we."

You got on your feet to look up for something to eat and forget your small talk. You knew he had searched for fruits and dry food because you heard him moving around and then leaving a couple of times, but you had nothing through the whole day. Cleon followed your steps, leaving enough space between you both as you took a couple of apples, giving one to him.

"The jump, how did you do that?" he asked, taking a bite of the fruit. "You don't have spacers."

"The rebels are smart people. A lot of members of the Foundation replicated your technology."

"I thought you were not involved with them," he insisted.

"I am not, but I would never deny any help. That my support doesn't rely on them doesn't mean I will let a chance slide."

"You're not answering my question."

You pulled the sleeve of your shirt up to show your bare wrist to him. There was the same device Hober Mallow and the Clerics had, inserted on your skin.

"I use this.”

"This is a whisper ship," he mumbled.

"Smart. Yes, sort of."

Cleon scoffed. "So that means we can land somewhere."

"About that, uh, we can't."

He moved to throw the remainings of his fruit with a confused look. "Why?"

He heard your sigh as you covered your wrist again, looking away from his deep eyes.

"I- I threw myself to space because I wanted to kill myself," you started, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't care how long would take me, I just wanted to blow up my ship. Just end everything. But then I saw you, floating, dying... and for some reason I couldn't let you die. I didn't know who you were but I saved you. There's no energy or fuel to make another jump. I don't have that. We are far from what Terminus was now. From any planet, form of life or civilization... plus you are unarmed. You still are weak and anyone could kill you," you finished, and waiting for some reason that he could forgive you for giving him any sort of hope. "I'm sorry, Empire."

Beyond madness, Cleon felt you were worried for him. Not the kind of sentiment his brothers or palace workers would do, but a real one. Because you knew saving him was condemn him to death anyway. But this felt much better than dying alone. He had sins, past despiteful decisions and ghosts hunting him, as so were you. You just addressed your feelings and your life together in less than a day. And you were right, none of you were never trully free, but as crazy as it might be, being lost in space with you felt like freedom to him. Finally, he was far away from everything that was keeping chained to a life and responsibilities he never asked for, living under the shadow of an egotistical emperor.

There was a strong impulse growing inside him and before his rational voice began to scream it was a bad idea to continue, he had cupped your cheeks between his hands and his lips pressing hungrily against yours. You whined, surprised of the warm feeling of his mouth, his tongue hurriedly asking for permission to taste you. When oxygen was not enough you pulled away, shocked and panting. You barely noticed your hand around his forearm, recovering yourself from the best kiss you had in some time.

"Cleon," he whispered, kissing your lips one more time.

"What?"

"Just call me Cleon. I'm not Empire anymore."

You kissed him in response with the same eagerness he had before, heart beating strongly in your chest. His hands caressed every inch of your body, from your neck, breasts, your hips, your soft thighs, your ass... he touched you with desperate fire while you moaned against his mouth, liking where was this leading you, more than you wanted to admit.

That was the first time you gave in to him completely.

IV. TO LOVE AND TO BE LOVED

You moaned against his lips, those that forcefuly broke the heated kiss you shared as he ruts into you desperately to reach his own climax. His flesh hitting against yours made an obscene harmony that echoed the confines the ship, far from civil and coherent noises fell from his lips as he sucked into the skin of your neck.

"Fuck, yes, right there," a broken whimper escaped your throat, your nails scratching his back, your walls clenching around his cock. "Cleon..."

The sound of his name being moaned by your sweet, raspy voice, caused him to slow down his thrusts just a bit.

"I still don't know your name," he whispered, bitting your bottom lip only to kiss you wet again.

"And yet you're fucking me, isn't that enough?" you teased, rolling your hips to meet his own.

He gave you a smirk, that fucking handsome smirk you hated so much. He took you with his strong arms, flipping you around so he was now on his back and you got control on top of him. You sinked down his dick setting a reckless rhythm, his thrusts matching yours every time you went down, his grip hard on your waist, marking and bruising your skin. One of his hands massaged your bouncing breasts, one after the other, pinching and then, you felt his mouth biting your nipples and chest, as he leaned your body to him for easy access, with slow grunts and groans that didn't sound human anymore.

His cock repeatedly hit that sweet spot from the position you were taking him, increasing the tension inside you. The sensation of his hands coming back to your sides and making its way to your ass cheeks to guide your bouncing hips became too much so soon. You cried as you felt drunk and high, muscles tense as you finally came. Cleon held you tight, fucking into you as you reached sweet release. His tongue traveled down your collarbone and breasts.

"Cleon," you moaned, your hands on his chest to support your body better. You felt him twitch inside you, knowing he was dangerously close too. Quickly, you slid off him, taking his girth, slick with your own wetness, between your hand you pumped him hard, easing his own release. His seed coated your palm, sprinkling on his abdomen.

"Shit, you're great," he praised, voice dark from lust. His fingers tangled into your hair, his forehead against yours as you recovered from the intense sex session you had for the second time that day. He kissed you sweetly, like a sweetness he only had discovered in the short time with you. "I wish I could know your name."

"You can call me your savior," you gave him a playful smile.

After a shared lazy kiss, you got on your feet, legs still shaking, and left the bed to clean yourself in the small place you called bathroom right next to the only room of the ship. Once finished, you threw the cloth away, and looked directly the mirror, or poor attempt of it. In the damp glass, you watched Cleon appear to embrace your body against his, your back touching his chest muscles and his hands roamed your abdomen while he left butterfly kisses on your shoulder. His big arms around you, pressing your figure to his own, huge in comparison entrusting protection.

The nineteenth day it was, and you spent it exploring your pleassures, talking nonsense and overall for Cleon, thinking he might love you. The confinement had flourished different kinds of feelings and sentiments inside his heart. He finally learned to feel something else besides hatred, power, or selfishness. The more you spoke to him, the more he grew to like you. You were far from perfect and so was he, and the way you opened your heart to him - the man who was to wed a powerful queen, govern thrillions of people around the galaxy and kill a few others - caused him to feel unworthy of anything coming from you. The man he grew up to be slowly disappeared as long as you had him under your light and spirit; his old self was fading away. And it scared him, but excited him at the same time. Even when he was very aware you were near the end together, he had nothing to ask for but to perish with you.

"What's in your head?" you whispered.

Cleon had no longer been tasting the skin of your neck, his chin pressed on your shoulder instead with his mind running a million thoughts by now. He took a glance at the damp and dirty mirror of how perfect you looked, bare and exposed in body and soul, only for his eyes to witness the true beauty of being alive. Of being human.

"You."

A loving smile curled up on your lips, looking directly into his enamoured gaze through the mirror. He decided he wanted to remember you like this in the afterlife.

You finished marking the last spot with an 'x', a wide grin over your face.

"I won."

"Yet again," Cleon chuckled. His laugh had grew sincere with you as he settled on the floor on the cold floor of the pilot cabin, just giving enough space for the board between you and him. "And what is your question, person-I-not-know-the-name-of?"

You just had finished playing another round of a silly game. It was an old Terran game, and you were surprised it made it this far across the galaxy. It was good to pass the time though. It kept you and Cleon thinking about other things besides dying. The fuel and energy, along with the water, were lowering on their levels. Food on the other hand was not a worry, you knew you could request to the traders as long as energy was functioning to make communication with them. However, the energy of your ship had to be loaded in land, just like fuel. And you had no place to go now to do that.

Being together as long as you had the resources was the main goal now. So many things crossed your mind as you talked about everything and nothing at the same time the past days.

"Have you ever been in love?" you asked after some time thinking.

You thought maybe it was the first time in Cleon's life that he was finally able to think and behave on his own, with no burdens about a dinasty to protect or pleasing his council.

He was taken by surprise as you spoke. He immediately remembered Demerzel, his loyal advisor. His relationship was merely sexual, but there were no feelings that would assimilate to what love is in reality. For sure, his own clone should have been woken up by now with no further consequences. For Cleon, it felt like he was actually erased from existence forever. He was disposable, just like his brothers. But thinking about your question, his answer was no. He never knew what love was. Not from Demerzel, certainly not from Dusk, Dawn was slightly different though, he did love Dawn but not the way you were referring to. He never knew the love from a mother or a father, nor family. Sareth hated him, so even if they got to marry he knew there would be no space for such sentiment. His own future children with the Queen of Cloud Dominion would have grown up without an essential part of being human.

"No," Cleon finally gave an answer, his gaze went soft as he realised what you just became to him in a matter of days. "However I sense something different when I am with you. And I don't recall to know what that is."

You smiled. "Isolation tends to create adjustments in those who suffer it."

"And have you?" Cleon asked back. "Have you ever felt it before?"

"I did... With my parents, my brother, my best friends, and a couple of assholes who broke my heart."

He chuckled, admiring the charm you had to brush off the hardships in your life. You smiled back at him. Gods you loved seeing him like this, like if he was happy and nothing had happened.

"And how is it?" he said.

"It's affection, it's addictive, not everyone can escape from it. You feel like you belong somewhere, that your life is strangely complete," you mumbled, locking your gaze with his own. "And it hurts a lot. But as you go through that path, you get to know the most beautiful kind of pain."

"Does it hurt now?"

You swallowed hard, that familiar knot on your throat. You were not expecting to feel this way. Not for the Emperor, not for the clone, not for Cleon. Yet one does not control love. You don't decide to love someone without a reason. And what else could two lost souls do in the middle of the galaxy with no purpose but to wait and die? You had opened your deepest fears and secrets to him, not expecting Cleon doing exactly the same. He trusted you and you trusted him. You slept in the same bed, ate the same food and fruits, fucked like animals everyday and yet there was an emotional connection in between you thought would never know again after so many years. How could you not fall for him when everything was crumbling? Finally, you nodded your head, feeling the tears burning in your eyes.

"I always have been alone, Cleon, but my soul seems to have a little love to give. In the end, love is what makes us human."

Cleon put the board of the game away and leaned closer to you, his hand caressed your cheek, cleaning the tears falling down your face as he pressed his forehead with yours. He kissed you softly, swallowing your pain, as a way to say he was hurting too.

V. VOYAGE

It was the thirtieth day on the ship.

Your last try to get and land in any planet failed. As much as Cleon told you to stop, that everything was fine, you felt you had to keep trying until your last day. But the ship was basically to zero fuel and soon energy will follow. You used the control panel of the ship, hopefuly to find a near by land, but luck was not on your side. There was nothing. You don't know exactly how many miles you traveled with no course for a month. It was getting beyond bearing.

Frustrated, you pulled away the holo of the map and the calculations you did in the air, throwing a lose screw of your seat directly to the glass. It did nothing, but you were starting to hate the view of the stars and nothingness sorrounding.

"I told you to stop that," you listened to Cleon, who seemed just arrived to the pilot cabin.

"I had to try," you stood up, walking towards him. Your arms embraced his waist and he took you in with the same warmth.

"You're worried."

"I am not," you whined. "I should have sent for help with the merchants."

Cleon broke your hug and cupped your face between his hands, leaning closer to you.

"No, we should end this now," he whispered, his brows furrowed.

"No!"

"Why not? You wanted to do it even before you found me."

"Because now ending me is ending you too!"

Cleon felt your pain, but there was no other option to make than to blow up the ship anyway. Even if you were to land somewhere, what was for him? You were not able to go back home, and Cleon was discarded at this point. The throne could not have two of the same in the middle. Hiding and running away sounded like a good choice, but still, where? There was nothing left, but he found comfort with you.

"I am okay with this," he said. "I told you. You have to do it."

"Cleon-" you plea was cut by his voice.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know, a couple of days at last."

"Then do it. You said you were to decide when and how you would die, this is the time," he remembered with a stern voice. "Take it."

You let out a shaky breath and pushed him to press your lips to his own, like saying goodbye. But you still would not accept this fate. Not like this. You kissed him with hunger and need, your tongues tangled up as your mouths danced together.

"I just have- I can't yet," you mumbled once the kiss was over, leaving you both seeking for air. "Can we just fuck each others brains again and pretend none of this happened for a moment?" you asked against his lips, your hand now on his cheek, caressing the stubble on his face. You always remembered to help him shave and that was one of the most normal things you had to do since you found yourself confined with him. The most casual and mundane things to do became

He nodded. "Yes, my love.”

Cleon kissed your lips with the same hunger and desire, his hands caressing every inch of you until he lifted you up, your legs quickly went around his waist. With eyes closed, you let him guide you to the bar fixed against the wall of your ship.

He made sure to throw everything that was on the surface to the ground to place you in there. Once you were sitting, he pulled your legs apart to stand in the middle of them, and full with lust, his lips and teeth marked your neck and collarbone. You moaned sweetly, palming his groin still covered with the fabric of his pants. He traveled down your breasts, kissing over your shirt until he took it off. He was lucky you decided not to wear bra anymore. He sucked on your tits and nipples, grinding his hips against your hand.

You tried to pull his pants away, but he finished the job first, pulling away from your chest. After his pants were discarded, his shirt followed. He also got used to no underwear so he stood exposed all for you. A true god he was, looking perfect and like if every inch of his body was created for you to worship completely.

Cleon hurried in getting you out of your clothes, and in minutes you were naked and feeling his tongue dancing on your belly. His fingers and massive hands teasing your thighs, avoiding the place where you needed them the most. You moaned when he finally used a single digit to rub your slit, collecting your wetness. He rubbed your clit, mouth going slow and dangerously close to your pussy.

You laid your back on the bar and Cleon grabbed your thighs to have you exactly at the edge of the surface, ready to eat from your heat.

"Cleon," you cried out his name, your fingers tangled on his hair as his tongue licked your most sensitive parts.

He kept your hips in place, fucking you with his tongue and licking your folds, going to your clit. You couldn't help but whimper and moan, removing his hair to see just how much he yearned your cunt.

You tried to roll your hips but his grip was too strong. He looked up to lock his dark gaze with you, his humming creating strong vibrations down your core. He played some more, using a finger to tease your entrance. You were about to cum just by watching him.

"Cleon, please-" you gasped when he inserted a finger inside you, thrusting slowly. "Please, I want to taste you too."

He stopped, looking your flushed face for a moment. Your eyes were begging to suck him right now. He released your pussy with an obscene sound, pulling his tongue and hand away, but your wetness still shined on him. You got on the ground with his help and started to kneel down, kissing his skin, from his chest and then abdomen, licking and biting to leave your marks on his sculptured muscles. You made sure to adore and suck the skin of his navel, knowing he was insecure with not having a belly button. Still without it, he was more human than he could ever get to accept because you have seen that on him.

Cleon grunted once your hand wrapped around him, his hand on your scalp. You gave him a far from innocent look from your position before licking the head, rolling your tongue around it, lubing it with your saliva. His desperate groans led you to wrap your lips around him, pumping with your hand what you couldn't reach with your throat yet. You had to learn he was big for you, so a little of warm up for your mouth was a good start.

He cursed under his breath, thrusting his hips a little to go further, slowly, and you welcomed his cock with a small gag once he reached the back of your throat. He moaned darkly, your rubbed your thighs together when he started to fuck your mouth. Both his hands taking the sides of your head as you choked and gagged around his lenght. You felt him throbbing but he quickly pulled out, and left you empty and with drool falling from your lips, your pussy now aching and clenching around nothing.

"So beautiful," he purred, the touch on your scalp soft now. "But I want to finish inside you."

You nodded, obedient. Cleon helped you to sit down on the bar again, he stayed between your legs, spreading them wide, you held onto him, arms around his neck. He entered slowly, the warmth of your walls swallowing his cock, inch by inch, until it disappeared completely inside your dripping cunt.

You shivered, broken moans falling from your lips. Cleon muffled your low cries with kisses, waiting for you to get used to him.

"Fuck me, Cleon," you mumbled against his swollen lips.

He complied happily, thrusting and pounding into your heat, with a frenetic and brutal pace you had learn to love. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, yor nails scratching his arms and back. His cock touched all the right places inside you and he whispered sweet nothings into your skin, fucking you right under the light of the stars and the void of space.

He moaned along with you, wishing heaven or whatever it was after felt exactly like this. Like you, with your arms around him, your sweet voice calling his name lovingly and whimpering for more, giving your soul to him and only him. Your walls started to clench and his hips stuttered, aproaching a craving release. But in between, he heard a word against his ear you never mumbled before, turning his lustful eyes to you and slowing down his thrusts.

You repeated it again, he was visibly confused but kept ruting into you.

"My name," you said, fingers now caressing his hair.

He smiled. He knew it now. The stranger who saved him had a name after all. Cleon kissed you fiercely, repeating your name again and again between wet kisses. You were close to release, feeling one of his digits rubbing your clit as you moaned together. The wave of electricity took your body first, clenching your pussy around his cock. Cleon followed soon after, rhythm slow and tense muscles, until he spilled inside you, coating your sensitive cunt with his seed.

Catching your breath, you remained together. He sucked on your neck softly, your name was the only thought inside his mind. And as much as you loved his touch on you, you remembered there was something to do still.

"Cleon," you called, getting his attention and feeling he was pulling out of you with a low groan. He looked at you with loving eyes and you smiled. You brushed his hair with your fingers pulling him to yet another smooth kiss. "It's time."

He knew it was. In silence his fingers found his earring, twitsting it and pulling it apart. He took it from his ear and placed it on yours carefully. You were always amazed at his touch, how rough and yet soft and gentle he could be.

"So you can remember me," he smiled when he was over. You let out a laugh and curved your llps in a grin. "It suits you."

"Thanks, Cleon."

Cleon leaned down to kiss you one more time before cleaning both of you. You dressed together as if you were not about to meet finally death. For some reason, you saved everything that was not on their cabinets or initial positions, packing all you could, like if you could take those belongings with you, most of which were from your family. One day Cleon asked why you had clothes that could meet his height, being taller than a lot of people around. You told him it was from your best friend. You thought every piece of clothes or souvenirs would help someday, but it never crossed your mind that it was going to be this way.

When everything was was done, you and Cleon settled in front of the control panel, however, before you could start the holo, a loud explosion could be heard. You frowned, turning to Cleon.

"Did you-? Ah!"

The ship almost overturned as something heavy hit the side, making you trip and fall over with Cleon on the ground. Again, an explosion was heard, far from the ship but clear enough to say it was getting closer, and seconds later, the ship got hit but this time on the glass, almost breaking it over. Quickly, you both stood up and saw what was happening.

"A black hole..."

"Look, there are debris around," you pointed a huge piece that looked the size of your ship, but that definitely was part of a much bigger one. You saw the debris and metal being swallowed and destroyed by the black hole. It wasn't pacing fast, but wasn't slow either. It looked like it was talking its time for much bigger things to eat, such as your ship. Cleon called you, taking your hands and pressing his forehead to yours. You could feel he was shaking, and your skin grew cold. You realised it was really happening now.

"Do it," he said. "Destroy the ship."

After a moment of hesitation, you gave a nod. He kissed you deeply again. You turned the holo to activate the ship and program its own destruction.

"Self-destruction mechanism activated," the computer confirmed.

"We have sixty seconds," you mumbled, tears already forming in your eyes. He cut you off with a kiss. You would miss those warm lips on yours.

"That's enough for me," he said. You smiled and he did the same.

"I love you, Cleon," you embraced his body with a hug. "I am happy I met this kind of pain with you."

He cupped your cheeks, pecking your lips, smiling down at you, saying I love you too. You, the one who saved him and gave him a second chance. Or at least a moment of relief. A place and a person who allowed him to be himself and find things he never knew would have.

"We have more in common now," he whispered. "We are both alone and hurting somewhere in the galaxy.”

#brother day x female reader #brother day smut #brother day x reader #cleon xvii #cleon xvii x reader #cleon xvii smut #foundation 2021 #foundation fanfiction #foundation apple tv #foundation imagines #isaac asimov foundation #lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #lee pace x reader #lee pace smut #brother day foundation #foundation season 2

178 notes · View notes

certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year

Text

spider society

pairing: miles morales x gn!spidey (platonic)

WC: 3.3K

warnings: cursing and slight spoilers!

summary: a new friend is welcomed but is quick to become foe.

A/N: SPOILER WARNING FOR ATSV!!!! i wrote this in a day and on little sleep, so that will explain if this is terrible. also barely proofread so apologies for any writing errors. i did the best i could for the scene based on memory and clips from tik tok.

masterlist

earth-42

the lobby was crowded. like always. spider people here, there, everywhere. floor to ceiling as they traversed to their different destinations whether that be another dimension to fix anomalies or just the food court to get some lunch.

your headphones covered your ears to keep the loud conversations at bay as you mind your business. nothing to do, just tapping finger to finger in random patterns as you observed everyone with your background music. with your eyes landing near the entrance of the building you saw gwen and hobie, along with someone you’d never met before but excited for the new face. literally new face.

“gwen! hobie!” you shouted after pushing the bulky headphones down to your neck before rushing towards them. they waved you close to them, gwen with a friendly smile and hobie with his watchful eyes but only filled with kindness.

you stopped before the three of them and gave the two of them quick hugs before they could make any objections. attention now on the new person. his was tall and lean and looked a few years younger than you. black kid with curly hair and wandering dark eyes.

“hi, i’m y/n l/n. or spidey or spider, if you want. but best to use my name since we’re all spiders.” mouth moving on its own. “sorry. just haven’t seen a new face or person in a little bit. no offense to the peter’s,” you leaned closer to his face and he leaned away slightly from the intrusion, “but there are too many of him. and a lot of them sound closely the same.”

“don’t let peter hear that.” gwen joke. she gave a quick nudge to her quiet friend. “this is miles morales.”

“h-hi. yeah, i’m miles. nice to meet you, this place is just… wow.” head turning in all directions to get the full scope.

“yeah, kinda crazy. but miguel worked hard to make all this happen for us. kinda nice to physically see you're not alone in the fight.”

“speaking of-“ gwen got cut off by miles glitching out and dropping to the floor in pain. you knelt with him and touched his shoulder. “he doesn’t have a watch?” frantic as you check his wrist for the bulky device but not finding it. gwen bit her lip but avoided eye contact and looked at someone behind you.

“here,” you heard the motherly voice of jessica drew, “day pass.” and saw how miles caught the flimsy band before slipping it on.

“why don’t we get some food?” trying to break the sudden tension jessica brought with her. but before anyone could agree or disagree with your idea, she spoke up. “actually the three…” her eyes lingered on you and the touch of your hand to miles’s shoulder, “the four of you need to see miguel. it’s urgent.”

you didn’t like that. you don’t like it whenever miguel calls for you and it’s not for a job. you tried making an excuse, “actually, i should get-“ “don’t lie your way out, y/n. just follow the rules.” jessica commanded.

she started to walk away, then gwen and hobie followed after her. “hey,” miles tried to make eye contact. you felt like shrinking into yourself. “don’t worry. i’m sure it’ll be fine.”

you knew it wasn’t but didn’t bother. a weary smile, “why don’t we stop by the food court?” fingers circling his wrist as you tugged him along. “miguel loves the empanadas and it wouldn’t hurt to keep him on the nice side.” miles happily agreed.

the walk to miguel’s ‘office’ was always dark and quiet. too quiet, the sound of just your breathing and footsteps sounding like blaring sirens that bounced off the walls. you hated the walk. instinctively you wore your headphones over your ears and played something, but at a low volume to still hear miles and hobie converse. gwen led your group, her back the only thing you saw as she didn’t bother with facing any of you. she felt closed off.

you eyed hobie as he nicked bits and pieces from walls, tables, and junk. you didn’t stop him like miles was trying, just watching with pure curiosity, wondering what he was up to. always doing something to rebel.

miles turned to you and you saw his mouth moving, but only faintly heard his words. pausing the music and moving the device back to your neck you asked him to repeat his sentence.

“so, how does one get recruited for this spider society?” he held the to-go box in both hands. his thumbs rubbing at the top in a nervous sort of gesture.

“i- i don’t think you’d like it very much.” not wanting miles to be stuck like the rest of you. “catching anomalies is very annoying. and very busy. wouldn’t you like to stay in your dimension? with your friends and family?” voice going soft and melancholy. fingers toying with the device at your wrist.

you didn’t notice how miles eyes softened from your tone or how gwen looked fully over her shoulder towards you, knowing the true meaning of your words. and hobie continued to knick bits.

“well…” miles tried to restart the conversation, “i mean. at least with the watch, i can visit my friends. i can hang out with you more.” a playful nudge to your arm pulled a smile. a new friend, you liked the thought.

“why not just make your own watch?” hobie commented. he broke something off a defective project and stuffed it into his vest pocket. “you look smart enough to build from scraps.” he kicked his thick boots at objects in his path.

“i wanna do this by the rules. by the books.” he shrugged his shoulders. face looking just a bit glum.

“are either of your parents' cops?” a simple question you posed.

he looked confused but still answered, “my dad. gonna be captain soon.” he smiled down at the ground. he must be very proud of his family.

now you nudge his shoulder, “well, i bet your dad is proud of you. knowing or not knowing. but sometimes, you shouldn’t play by the book.” a hushed whisper.

“aye, y/n!” hobie slapped his hands on your shoulders, “that’s what i like to hear! screw the system. do what you need to do, my guy.”

“guys!” gwen raised her voice, “please can we just-“ she trailed her sentence off with a tilt of her head. the four of you were getting closer.

“miles, just remember,” hobie leaned towards miles, “don’t join the establishment until you know what you’re fighting for.”

the hallway widened out and when you looked up, miguel had his back turned as he stood on his platform. miles looked to gwen and she held a hand up, “yeah. i know, but it’s his thing. so just…” and she trailed off again.

gwen and miles walked further into the light as you and hobie stayed near the dark. hobie situated himself along the wall, fingers playing with whatever he got his hands on. you leaned beside him with your arms crossed over your chest and hip cocked. just from this show alone, you know miles is in for a miguel tantrum.

“how’s it been?” eyes on hobie, “um… okay.” you picked at the nylon of your suit, “sometimes if i’m bored, i go to other places. they let me as long as i don’t cause trouble. sorry i haven’t visited recently.” a twist to your lips.

hobie waved you off, “ain’t a problem. pop by whenever. gwendys around most times.”

your heads turned when miguel raised his voice and threw the food box to the ground. you pushed away from the wall and walked closer to the light.

“what’d i do?” “miguel. it’s not his fault.” miles and gwen’s voices mixed. you heard a thwip and turned to see hobie stealing the free food.

“he’s screwed everything up! just like doctor strange and that little nerd from earth-1999999.” miguel pinched his nose bridge.

“i visited there once. interesting place.” miles seemed to be the only one intrigued by your story. “they have this group called the avengers.” eyes widening at the word.

“are they like a band?” miles cocked his head. “no earth’s mightiest-“

“who the hell cares!”

you flinched at the boom of miguel’s voice and slinked back into the dark shadows by hobie. automatically he threw an arm over your shoulder and pulled you to his side.

“someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he muttered. you wanted to comment but felt if you even made a peep miguel would be on your ass. hobie, always the kind friend, noticed your silence and slipped your headphones back on. you didn’t need music at the moment just something to muffle the noise.

eyes watched how miguel and miles spoke. their bodies tense, miguel using his looming height advantage to have more authority. mile's lanky arms fling about and look from gwen to miguel. with your headphones, you couldn’t hear, but you saw how miles turned around and his face was graced with a smile as he ran to someone.

“oh great. humbling reality spider-man has joined.” hobie’s words muffled before you made your ears free again.

you saw peter parker, peter b parker, as he liked to be called. he and miles shared a hug and you started to look at the walls and ceilings.

“why do you have a baby carrier?” miles pointed at the carrier peter always wore.

“mayday!” you squeal when you see her crawling your way. the two of you were well acquainted since you’ll babysit for peter and mj on short notice. or whenever really, they were such a kind family.

the little bundle of joy yipped when you crouched to her level and pulled her to your chest. her tiny hands setting on your shoulders as her blue and green eyes darted over your face. a gloved hand smoothed some of her flyaways and wind-swept hair.

“you have a baby!” you heard miles. “i have a baby! yeah, it’s crazy kid.” peter sighed.

“how’s my favorite web crawler? huh? causing trouble for your dad?” cooing in a baby voice. pretending she could understand every word and would reply in detail about the chaos she brings. you pinched at her chubby cheeks.

“can we get back to business? serious business?” miguel always brings the mood down.

“you are the only serious spider person. we’re supposed to be funny. throwing quips as we punch bad guys.” peter grumbled and made a mocking tone of miguel. he looked about ready to send everyone away.

“lyla, do the thing.” the computer teased miguel for a moment before doing the thing he asked. she pulled up the web of life and destiny.

“it’s called something very scientific, but i like to just call it the spider web. short and simple.” a side comment to miles. “cool.”

“these are canon events. things that can’t change no matter what or the universe collapses.” getting bit by the spider. uncle ben dying or someone close to you. a captain saving a kid but getting killed in the process.

miguel showed different versions of spider-man in those different scenarios. he specifically showed the spiders mourning the death of captain stacy.

you pressed mayday’s head into your shoulder, not wanting her to see this. you turned to gwen and saw her poker face, but you could see the emotion swimming in her irises. she hadn’t been back to her dimension in a while, always crashing in different spots.

“miles,” you looked away as you bounced the child, “what you did back in pavitr’s reality, it broke canon. that’s what caused the black hole and hopefully, we can stop it. but it doesn’t always happen.”

you felt eyes on you. you didn’t like the sudden attention. but you were starting to get why jessica brought you here. why miguel pointed a finger at you to miles confusion. he wanted you to be on his side.

“y/n… do you want to tell miles what happened?” you ignored him. playing with mayday, knuckles caressing her rosy cheeks. “y/n… the kid needs to understand the importance.” you sighed and pressed a kiss to mayday’s temple.

“understand what?” miles walked closer to you. “y/n? what happened?”

you licked your lips. “my reality is gone. i… i got to love my gwen stacy. i didn’t lose any family or a captain who i was bickering friends with. i- i got to have it all. i ‘broke’ canon, but i don’t believe that crap.”

“y/n…” miguel had a warning tone.

“everything was wonderful. not once after each event happened a giant hole formed until one day it just did. it was just a normal day. gwen and i were having a date at this ice cream shop she loved, she looked so pretty. she always did. we were walking towards the met since she kept saying we needed to visit more.”

you raised mayday above you and flashed a toothy smile. she giggled and you pulled her close to rub noses. a sigh as you continue your story.

“it- it just happened out of nowhere. i can’t even place what the cause would have been. one minute it’s a normal day and then next a black hole a few blocks away which then changed into… reality being eaten away.”

you didn’t notice the tears falling until little hands touched your cheeks. mayday stared and baby babbled. a hand to your shoulder, peter giving a pitying look. you handed his daughter back to him and wiped your tears. done with talking, but miguel finished the story.

“they already had a watch and when i noticed what was happening and the rate it was destroying everything… i managed to pull them out in time. they are the last remnants of their home reality.”

it was quiet. no one was speaking and it still felt too loud.

“but… what’s this got to do with me?” happy that miles pulled the attention back to him.

“you are the first anomaly.” miguel voiced. “your spider bite wasn’t from your dimension, you already had a spider-man. and yet somehow… everything is fine.” he seemed pissed at the simple fact.

“miles in two days your dad is gonna become captain.” gwen spoke. her tone seeping in sorrow.

miles looked around. his face scrunched in confusion and growing anger. then he did another look at the images of different peters with captain stacy. his face was dropping.

“your- you're saying i just have to let my dad die? to- to avoid reality crashing? cause it’s a- a canon event?”

“yes,” miguel replied as if that didn’t sound crazy.

miles turned to gwen, “your dad. he’s a captain right?” she nodded. “you’re just, what? just gonna let him die?” her eyes fell to the floor.

“we have to do things to keep reality stable. it’s not always pretty, but it comes with the cost of being spider-man. you can’t have both.”

“i can! i know i can! i can be spider-man and miles!”

your senses went off just a bit and you took account of all the people starting to crowd the room. this felt wrong. it felt like a trap, and for once you're the bad guys. peter and gwen tried to calm miles down, he was understandably upset at everyone shouting orders at him. you wanted to pull miles away and hide the both of you from miguel and the others. this wasn’t right.

“this will hold you for a few days.” and miguel dropped one of his devices to the floor that changed to a red-screened cage.

“miles!” you rushed to the holoprojection and started to bang your fist along with miles. gwen and peter were bickering with miguel. and hobie popped up beside you with his palms facing miles with a knowing smile.

hobie pulled you away when you started to see the electricity start to spark. then suddenly there was a loud boom and explosion of air. everyone was swept off their feet. hobie was able to keep you upright.

miles stood free and looked at his palms as he panted. he quickly looked your way and you only could say, “run.” and he took off.

“no!” miguel roared.

he started to chase after him, but you shot a web to his feet to slow him down. his crazed eyes widened at your disobedience. “you have no idea what you’ve done.” he extended the red blades from his arms, cutting himself free and rushing out of the room with others following.

your chest was panting with fear and worry. you looked to hobie for help, but he stood in a portal and threw his watch away. “for the record i quit.” and he was gone in the blink of an eye.

you were the only one on miles’s side.

you shot web after web at different spider people. at their feet, wrist, faces, anything to slow them down and give miles enough time to form a plan and execute it. you tried to catch up to him, but a few people gave you a taste of your own medicine and fought you.

you were being held down by one of the many peter parker variants, “stay out of our way!” he shouted as he webbed you uptight. you struggled against the hold but it was no use. so you were left alone once the tower was emptied, you just hoped miles was okay.

you were sure how long you’ve been webbed up. your body started to get that prickly feeling when it wasn’t getting proper blood flow through the body. wiggling your body in the hold, hoping to loosen it, a voice called out.

“y/n?” eyes connected with miles who was hanging upside down on a web. one side of his suit was ripped, but he looked safe.

“oh thank goodness. i tried to catch up, but as you can see, i’ve been webbed.”

miles looked around. when he eyed you again he looked hesitant to free you, you understood. some of his friends that he’s known longer turned on him behind his back. but you knew he was a different case, miguel was just using this canon logic as a cover.

“go miles. i don’t want to keep you from getting home.” a reassuring smile to his tired eyes. but he didn’t leave, he started to pull at the webbing and helped you free.

“let’s go.” he led you to the go-home machine. he was able to go invisible as he worked the computers so you stayed on the ceiling in the dark shadows.

when the machine was up and running he hopped in and called your name. you looked to margo, spider byte, who was busy with lyla as the two tried to stop the stitching process. you dived in and stood beside him, the two of you getting anxious the longer it was taking.

“stop the machine!” miguel was charging forward. you knew margo shouted a comment back without hearing her.

the machine was getting closer, it was about eighty percent closed. you thought you were in the clear, but miguel sunk his blood-red claws into the threading and started to rip at it. you pushed miles behind you, “just let us go, miguel!”

“i can’t do that, y/n! why can’t you understand i’m doing this for everyone’s safety!” he growled. the threading was holding.

“because this canon shit is a lie! if miles wasn’t supposed to be spider-man, his reality would have broken a long time ago! you’re just trying to manipulate everyone!”

your body lifted into the air. it was time to leave. and just before you were gone, you did one more reckless thing. you tore the watch off your wrist and threw it to the ground making it shatter. you stared directly into miguel’s burning eyes.

“i quit.”

a/n2: i actually wrote a little more after this part, but it just didnt end off well. i wrote this from like the hours of 8pm to 6am (i did sleep a little in between dont worry)

794 notes · View notes

bl4cktourmaline · 7 months

Note

Furina meeting someone in fontaine who somehow doesn't know them... Sounds refreshing and fluffy!

꒰⌗´͈ ᵕ ॣ`͈⌗꒱৩ — furina

✿ — ♬ ⌨️ᶻᶻᶻ : x/modmafuyu is typing... ✉!

✿ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : Furina meeting a fontainian(reader) who doesn't know her.

✿ — ♯ GENRE : Fluff(mostly), bittersweet

✿ — ⊜ CW : Nil

✿ — ↠ NOTE : Hi hi Anon~ Thank you for requesting~ I had a lot of fun making this fic and I hope you'll enjoy reading it ! I know you wanted fluff but I accidentally made a bittersweet ending. Hope that's alright!<3

Timeline would be Furina still acting out her role. So that this fic would not go too far out of character.

Just a warning, 4.2 spoilers.

[h/c] - hair color

[e/c] - eye color

✿ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, in doing so will motivate us to continue delivering stories to you, thank you for all of your supports ~ !

Extra: if you would like to request, click here and read the writing rules for each writer !

✿ — ♭ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ... : ...No one

✿ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Furina

CLICK CLACK CLICK!

A petite girl was seen running out of the Palais Mermonia in the Court of Fontaine. As she took off running as far as her legs could take her.

-----------------FLASHBACK-----------------

"...Miss Furina, I do hope you know the prophecy will come sooner or later. Even if Fontaine hasn't experience any deleterious flooding.. yet.. We must act fast to ensure all our citizen are safe and won't live in fear. Who knows how long till they believe in those 'rumors'"

"I do know that! ...I promise I'm doing something useful to help everyone."

"I can clearly sense that you are hiding something from me. Please, just tell me what is it that you are covering up."

"I-I'm telling you! I'm not hiding anything. I am your archon, could you PLEASE stop doubting me?!"

...

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

'How much longer..'

pant pant pant

'So lonely..'

pant pant pant

'Please let this show end..'

THUD

The petite girl collided with the ground due to exhaustion. She began looking around, upon seeing no one, she felt a little relieved to see that no one had spotted her being in a mess from earlier.

..Well probably except for the Chief of Justice.

'..Way to go Furina, if he wasn't already suspicious of me, he definitely is now..'

As the girl slowly picked herself up from the ground and continued to wandered mindlessly, wanting to get her mind off things for a bit.

Furina strolled leisurely while admiring the scenery upon her. She usually doesn't have time to be curious and as carefree while playing the role of the archon.

'Where am I anyways? I've.. Never been out of the city before'

As Furina came across a sunny and bright view. Where the sun is beaming while waves crash into one another, accompanied by golden rocks.

Although it is an unfamiliar surrounding, Furina only felt comfort feeling the breeze of the atmosphere as she slowly trotted over to the sea.

'What is this place? I've never been here but it feels really easy to relax..'

As Furina slowly took in the sunlight and windy zephyr and sighed. If only she could adventure and explore the world even more..

Being lost in thought, the petite girl did not notice someone in the distance sneaking up behind her.

'..It's really hard being an ar-'

"BOO!"

"AHHH?!"

Furina out of instinct, quickly lifted her arms into a defensive pose to shield her from whatever is coming after her.

"Ahaha! You should've seen the look on your face."

As Furina slowly opened her eyes, she saw a unfamiliar [h/c] person with [e/c] eyes. Realising they were a fontainian, she immediately cleared her throat.

"What look? I was preparing to attack you, you're lucky I took the flight response or else I would've seriously injured you!"

Furina folded her arms looking really displeased with whoever scared her.

"Ahaha.. Sorry, you just looked a little bit depressed. Anyways, I'm [name], nice to meet you. Now, may I ask why such a beautiful lady was looking quite down?"

"B-beautiful?!"

"Mhm! I've heard my friends say that the hydro archon was really pretty. At this rate I might mistake you as them!"

[Name] looking quite content with their response, giving a close-eyed smile.

"Ahem! A-Anyways, to answer your question. I was simply dreading about my workload. I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"Oh really? Guess it isn't a big issue. I'm glad."

'They're glad? I'm just some stranger though, I'm not sure why they're that relieved..'

"So, how's the beach? Pretty relaxing huh? I usually come here after I run my errands."

"Oh.. So this is called a beach, I've never seen one my whole life until today. It really isn't that bad at all to spend a day off here."

Furina then turned her view back to the waves, wanting to treasure this moment before returning to her dull stage.

Suddenly Furina felt something. Only to turn to see [name] placing a rainbow flower in her hair.

"Eh?! What's up with the sudden flowers?! Forget that, how did you even get them?!"

"I did mention I run errands, and that is when I go flower hunting to find beautiful flowers to add to my garden. I decided to give this rainbow flower to you as a gift. It's fitting for a beauty like you~!"

"W-wha-"

"Also, just want to ask, do you work for the hydro archon? You called me a mortal, surely the hydro archon must've have cute colleauges!"

"..."

[Even-More-Fluff Ending] - Optional to read

"Do you not know who the hydro archon is?"

"..Not really, I live on the country side, but I do hear adventurers say that she is dazzling and charismatic. Although it fits into your description.. Surely I'm not talking to the hydro archon."

"...Yeah you're right, I'm not the hydro archon ahahaha! I-I'm her coworker. Yep, pleasure serving under her!"

'God damnit Furina! What are you doing?!'

'...'

'Maybe they are the person I can confide in.. However I know that's impossible, but it does feel nice to not need to put my guard up as high..'

[Bittersweet Ending: continuation of Even-More-Fluff Ending] - Optional to read

When Furina returned to her office in Palais Mermonia. She sat in her chair recounting her recent encounter with [name]. Hoping to see her again.

So she began having meetups with [name] more frequently. Of course, this caught onto Neuvilette's attention since Furina never leaves the city much. So he decided to follow her on one eventful day.

Only to see the archon with a mortal. He didn't know much about this other person that was with Furina so he decided to interrupt their conversation.

"Miss Furina?"

"Huh?! Neuvilette?! W-What are you doing here?"

"Well the hydro archon has been frequently leaving the city for quite a while so I wanted to check it out. Whose this other person you're with?"

"W-wait.. Furina?! You're the hydro archon?!"

[Name] stared in disbelief, immediately apologising for their rude behaviour towards her.

'Well there goes my identity.. Oh well it was pretty fun while it lasted."

#modmafuyu #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #furina #furina x reader #genshin furina #furina genshin #genshin oneshots #oneshot #genshin fluff #fluff #bittersweet

160 notes · View notes

pika-ace · 2 years

Text

Disney Knowledge Yuu: Masquerade Edition Part 2 (aka Yuu gets Fucking Mad)

Holy shit, things went from 0 to 100 REAL QUICK! Anyway, SPOILERS AHOY!

Rollo: (covers his mouth with a starry handkerchief that looks like Esmerelda's scarf)

Yuu: Oh HEEEEEELL NO, I ain't trusting this kid for a SECOND!

Silver: Why not?

Yuu: Call it a feeling >:/

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

Rollo: There's a festival being held today and you're all welcome to attend... (softly) Ugh, I hate the festival...

Yuu: Oooh, Topsy-Turvy Day!

Rollo: How did you know that was the name??

Yuu: Lucky guess...(softly) and I got my eye on you >8/

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

Noble Bell College: (taking about how Frollo was a Righteous Judge and did nothing wrong)

Yuu: …I hope this place doesn’t believe in God cause I’m about to go FULL HERETIC ON THEIR ASSES

Riddle: Wait STOP-

—————————

Azul: I-I swear the gargoyle just moved!

Yuu: (gets up close) *whispers* Victor...? Are you alive...? :0c

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

Epel: Aww look at these alphabet blocks; A for Apple, B for baby, F for festival

Yuu: *snorts*

Rollo: Evidently the words used to be more complicated; a shame, really

Yuu: (sarcastically) Damn, what a shame that kids can no longer learn the classic alphabet of Abomination, Blasphemy, Contrition, Damnation, and Eternal damnation

Rollo: O_O’

Deuce: …Are you okay…?

—————————

Shopkeeper: (holds up dreamcatcher necklace) It is said when you hold this, the city is yours

Yuu: (rolls eyes) Actually, it’s ‘When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand’

Team Azul: …

Yuu: (sighs) It’s a map of the city -_-

Team Azul: Oooooooh! :0

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

Rollo: These handkerchiefs are smoke bombs; children use them for pranks

Silver: I'll take one for Lilia :)

Yuu: Me too; if Esmerelda could make use of these then I can too

Idia: Huh...?

—————————

Trein: They used these underground river ways to hide people

Riddle: Ah yes, they called it The Palace

Yuu: *coughs* Court of Miracles...

Sebek: What was that?

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

Rollo: This is a town goat; they wander the city

Sebek: DO NOT APPROACH MASTER MALLEUS, GOAT!!

Yuu: Don't yell at Jolly! >:O

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

Jamil: Apparently these curly wooden shavings are the classic hairstyle of this city

Yuu: *thinks for a moment* Oh wow, that's a REALLY obscure easter egg, even I barely remember the Gargoyle song O_O

Malleus: Gargoyle WHAT?

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

Rollo: Don't you hate magic? Isn't it the worst? You understand right?

Yuu: ...If you tell me to choose between you or the fire, I'm gonna throw up >:(

—————————

Festival leader: The Kind Bell Ringer was adopted by the Righteous Judge who saw past his deformities and loved him as his son. Their bond was strong and special and the Bell Ringer used his teacher's lessons to save the city

Yuu: ...(starts towards the stage)

Silver: Where are you going??

Yuu: (rolling up their sleeves) To commit a HATE CRIME >8(

Trein: YUU-

Yuu: THAT IS NOT HOW THE STORY GOES AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!!! >8(

Ruggie: Holy shit-

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

Rollo: (absorbing the magic with flowers and ready to kill literally everyone)

Yuu: So I was wrong about the racism and the lust, but the genocide was spot on. …Small victories, I guess

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

((Drama Bonus))

(Yuu spends the whole trip trying to convince the others that Rollo is not to be trusted but no one believes them, and then when shit goes down, Yuu is standing back in no danger while everyone else is fighting)

Deuce: Yuu, help us! We're getting attacked by the flowers!

Yuu: Hmm, okay Deuce. But first, a deep sip from a very tall glass of 'I TOLD YOU SO' >:/ (starts slowly drinking an imaginary glass)

Riddle: YUU!!!!

((This event isn't done yet, so we'll see if I can get more out of it ;3))

#glorious masquerade #twst glorious masquerade #twisted wonderland #twst #yuu #twst yuu #twst mc #yuu twisted wonderland #the hunchback of notre dame #judge frollo #disney knowledge yuu #malleus draconia #rollo twisted wonderland #twst rollo

1K notes · View notes

harmonysanreads · 1 year

Note

A shower thought I have because of the current sumeru event and the hexagon polycule (I haven't started playing it yet) :

All the participants trying 90000% harder not only to win, but also to impress you while Layla and Faruzan are just

"🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️pls don't hurt us"

Wanderer also ofc wants to impress and win but his ego took a heavy blow after being listed in as "Hat Guy"

Alhaitham can't really participate but that won't stop him from making snarky remarks over them ( *cough cough* Kaveh and Cyno * cough cough*)

I was waiting for this event like a kid for their favorite cartoon show to air no kidding and it DID NOT disappoint<33 (I want either Kaveh or Layla to win so bad ☹️) And by the laws, brainrot is unavoidable :)

spoilers under the cut! [ au masterlist ]

I was thinking about Reader being chosen as one of the Commentators for extra spice actually— imagine how much harder the boys work to get your approval, this is the moment they get to show off, after all. No one can question it, you have abundant knowledge and capability from your travels, are eloquent with words, well acquainted with every contestant and can generally keep everything in euphony ; Nahida didn't even find any room for a contrary opinion as Alhaitham and Hat Guy brought these points forth (separately) so matter of factly. Having you there will just make this even a little (no, a lot) bearable for them, is all.

Faruzan is amused to a degree, ho, youngsters these can be so passionate! Though there slowly forms a concern for your future as she realizes that their efforts aren't just simple courting tactics. Layla's just... scared. She may or may not have accidentally looked through your constellation and it may or may not have traumatized her a little.

The fact that Kaveh wants to buy a place for himself with the prize money?? *chefs kiss* The architect has come to the realization that he needs to iron his backbone if he's to court you officially, he needs to show you that he can achieve way more than that insufferable cabbage (soon to not be) roommate of his. And when Kaveh is serious about something, you better know you're not going to have it easy anymore.

Tighnari is such a showoff in the first round, creating that butterfly show not only to catch potential students but to impress you knowing you have an affinity for pretty things. He didn't entirely lose in the second round either, as you rushed to take care of him, he savored all that attention more than the water he passed out without :/

Cyno is, well, ... Cyno. Don't get him wrong, he most definitely wants your praises and he does get them in the second round. On a side note, based on the Biryani factor joke he made I have a new headcannon that Cyno regularly tells you food puns — now whether you enjoy them is purely up to you :)

Though, things with him really get interesting in the final round as Wanderer takes him head on (or I'm assuming something similar since it's not out yet). Even the densest person can tell they're ready to tear each other limb from limb here, but honestly, who has the guts to stop these two? Not like you aren't mildly entertained by their duel either.

You're surprised when you heard that Wanderer was taking part, you recovered quickly though ; squeezing him affectionately like you usually do and even jokingly adding what else he was doing behind your back (not missing the way he tensed up). Whatever his true motives are, it's apparent he's determined to prove something to you. He's trying to better himself, alright. But old habits die hard, how can these mortals even compare to him? If he can (and he will) establish the fact that he's obviously the superior choice —to you only, of course as he doesn't give a crap about what others think— then taking that dent to his pride will be worth it.

Alhaitham is the saltiest version of himself throughout the whole event (Nilou's sweating bullets throughout the whole time). Most of the actual commentary is done by you and Nilou as he just occasionally quips in to add a snarky remark or to do announcements. Doesn't waste a breath fleeing from the venue when a round ends and even whisks you along with him. At one point though, he asks who you support the utmost among the participants (no, ‘everyone’ isn't an acceptable answer), purposefully when they're gathered together. You aren't dumb, you know that despite the tone in which he delivered it, this is the pinnacle of this competition for everyone. If he was just fanning the flames before, he's poured out an entire barrel of gasoline in it now.

Oh, we cannot forget the Traveller and Paimon who are actually doing their job just...deadpanning by the sidelines as everything unfolds :>

(also, you're going on a date with dehya and candace sooner or later, no questions asked.)

955 notes · View notes

malicedafirenze · 2 months

Text

Unfiltered thoughts about Court of Wanderers by Rin Chupeco

Untagged spoilers below the cut, click at your own risk

For a proper review that makes a bit more sense, see here. This is just my unedited notes I took while reading

Love that Remy and Zidan are back to being bitchy

Lol only one bed but on purpose

Did Eugenie just fuckin decapitate a guy with her long nails are you fucking kidding me 😂

Ugh Valenbonne showing up in person. Idk if I dislike it bc he’s a hateable bastard or because it lacks believability…

The overgrown castle and night empress cocoon give big video game boss lair energy

She‘s described with „dark skin, the same shade as Remy‘s“

Oh I‘m glad Remy is finally giving his father a bit of honest ranting about his abusive bs 👀

Lil bit cringe that the kids at the Fata Morgana would ask if Remy, Zidan and Xiaodan are lovers, and take an interest in how Zidan slakes his thirst

Remy telling the kids stories feels a bit indulgent

Malekh offering to let Remy take control 😍

Again, very self indulgent, could do with more subtlety but well

Good to know that she pegs him sometimes I suppose 😄

They‘re just so transparently horny the whole time. Like I‘m here for it but it gets cheap so quickly if there‘s extended focus on that

Ooov the villain was Aluria‘s colonialism? 👀 (remy‘s mother, re. her motivations, in his dreams)

Vampire pigeon 😂

Them arguing while fucking is funny but also a bit goofy 🙈🙈

I‘m on board with some bdsm familiar shit on display, but the presentation of it somewhere between kink and obligation is a bit off

Lady Rotteburg‘s apologies for her treatment of Remy ring a little hollow/indulgent too

I find it odd that Remy still meets with and gives info to his father‘s messenger?

Ooh okay that was in discussion with Malekh

I find it a bit toothless that xiaodan (and malekh) are so utterly supportive of remy‘s choice re. humanity/vampirism. They seem a big too perfect and potentially boring to me at the moment?

Ok good Zidan is weirdly controlling re. Remy‘s dreams shortly after

I‘m 12 Chapters in and a bit dismayed that I‘m finding it alright so far :')

Missing any acknowledgment of pressure/equalizing when Zidan drags Remy underwater 😑

Malekh‘s past with the night king 🤝 Raihn from TSatWoN

That the whole gathering of court leaders would pause to speculate on what remy has with zidan and xiaodan feels kinda cheap

I‘m here for the exhibitionism but I find it odd in its presentation. Like, ok their whole thing is submission, but it‘s still a weird af combo of a council meeting and an orgy

Like ffs her mother is watching 🙈

I just don’t love how much of the actual dialogue is so self indulgently about „oooh so a reaper is in bed with the third and fourth court leaders“. Like sure make that part of the conversation but it‘s so cheap if that‘s all there is to it

Some of the exposition is presented in sort of plump dialogue

I‘m bothered that apparently Remy still doesn’t know precisely what being a familiar entails

Elke recapping the development between Allegra and herself feels v much like it could have been much better woven into the story :‘)

So much interpersonal stuff is just really plump. „Hi remy sorry for my lord attacking you I seriously want to be friends. Ok sure I‘ll then immediately answer your deeply personal question that perfectly mirrors your own internal struggle re. getting turned“

Ok them fucking on Ishkibal‘s throne to help Malekh make new memories of it is fun and hot

Gah why does everyone else need to keep talking about it afterwards though, including with Valenbonne 🙉

Still feel like everyone‘s being entirely too generous and forgiving towards valenbonne

I don’t mind the focus being political, but I feel like there’s too much tell vs show

Remy being hurt by Thaïs being one of the traitors rings a lil hollow, calling her a friend when they‘ve only interacted a handful of times and one of those was her being pushy af

And Xiaodan figuring out all the details of the priestess‘ plan is also a bit much? idk

Them both being in a frenzy and remy getting malekh back by insulting him is cute

The whole thing where it uses the nth court leader instead of names is so grating

I‘m not a fan of how valenbonne is still their ally tbh

Increasingly bothered by everything that makes him appear sympathetic again

He apologizes but he‘s not really rueful about any of the horrible shit he‘s pushed remy to do???

This Jost twist is also kinda coming out of nowhere??

Not sure I got completely why and how Ishkibal is using the Night Empress‘ body

I do not like Valenbonne being all badass, using breaker to protect Remy etc, who is this for 😭

Valenbonne‘s „I should have died the day I realized you were still out fighting in those caves“ rings so fucking hollow what 😭😭

“I think the only legacy he wanted to leave behind was you”

How tf is any of this earned

#court of wanderers #court of wanderers spoilers #silver under nightfall #reaper series #remy/xiaodan/zidan

4 notes · View notes

simpingland · 10 months

Text

Never Pretending// Jace Velaryon x Fem!oc. Part 1.

Anon request:Major fluff and angst and jealousy- I’m thinking childhood best friends into enemies after the driftmark fight and through episode 8 when they meet again.

Summary: Gaella Targaryen (Alicent's kid) and Jace Velaryon were friends long before they understood what green and black meant. When they meet again six years later, they realise that there was always something more to both the court and their own friendship. Part 2

A/N: This will continue. This request was beautiful but had spoilers, so I won't post it completely. Stay tuned for part 2!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a time when Gaella had dreamed of being betrothed to Jacaerys Velaryon, and though she had never told her mother, her childhood was a happy one because of him. Born in the same year, the servants could always see the little blonde and brown heads wandering around the castle. Jace likes to wake her up early to explore corners that they were already starting to see too much, but Gaella's imagination helped her to see everything in a new way. And so the years passed, walking side by side, while the girl told him the legends of the kings and princes before them. He was the one who dared to cross the areas forbidden to them by the adults, and she was the one who knew the stories forbidden to them by the adults. Everyone knew of this friendship, but few approved of it. Gaella was aware at an early age of the rumours about Jace and Luke, her brother Aegon told her plainly one day when no one was around.

She never had the courage to tell Jace the truth. His love for Harwin was tender, but he also admired Leanor, and he loved to show off Vermax. The last thing Gaella wanted to do was to dispel that happiness, to pull him abruptly out of the limbo his mother had put them in to protect them. What Gaella did dislike was that the Prince was never confused by his appearance, never asked questions, and participated so actively in Aegon's jokes, unaware that Aegon was one of the greatest spokesmen for his illegitimacy. A rift started when Jace began to feel confident enough to make fun of Aemond. Prince Aemond wasn't particularly nice to Gaella, but they shared a taste for studies and could hold entertaining conversations. So when they laughed at his desperation to get a dragon, only Gaella understood how cruel the joke had been.

"There was no need to make fun of something that is not his fault," Gaella said to Jace as they walked back to the castle.

"It was Aegon's idea," he tried to justify himself.

"You're not much better if you follow him after..."

That night, Jace didn't want to apologise to Aemond. But the next morning, knowing that he had irritated his dearest friend, he woke her up with a piece of cake hidden in a napkin. He gave it to her as an apology, and the girl couldn't stay angry much longer. Such was Jace, as sweet as he was unruly, much quieter than his brother Luke, but both had inherited the mischievous side their mother had been known for.

King Viserys might be the only one who smiled at the thought of seeing Gaella and Jace together. He loved to hear their daily scurrying on the other side of his door, reminding him that life was beautiful and innocent for some still, and that the enmity between his wife and daughter was being offset by the friendship between their children. But her mother, Alicent, despite trying to connect with her, always ended up scolding her. She scolded her when she found her disobeying her orders, yelled at her when she stained her clothes, and of course, always pulled her away from Jace every chance she got. At first, Alicent let her be. She was so small, and she could control her. But as she grew older, the arguments were no longer about rules or dresses. Some day, which would come sooner rather than later, Gaella would be a woman, a woman who must marry, and whose company must be kept from men. Whatever Gaella's feelings for Jace, what mattered was that no one should suspect anything more than friendship. The night Jace and Gaella made peace, the two of them left the castle, escaping to an abandoned tower where they spent the entire day playing and talking. She kissed him goodbye with a kiss on the cheek that left his face flushed, and Gaella went into her room thinking that this would be the end of the best day of her life. But when she saw her mother waiting for her, she knew it wasn't true.

"How is it that you are so smart, Gaella, and at the same time, be so dumb?" she asked. The girl made herself small before Alicent.

"I'm sorry, mother. It's just that we didn't have lessons today and we got distracted..."

"I don't care where you went, what I care about is who you went with," she interrupted her, raising her voice.

"It's Jace, mother. Nothing bad can happen to me being with Jace."

"Oh, how innocent you are, my love." She walked over and knelt down to be at her level, holding her hands lovingly. "I was close friends with your mother a long time ago, too... but they don't love us. Not really."

"Jace does love me, mother," tears began to well up in the girl's eyes, confused and hurt.

"You know well that Jace is not a Targaryen like you. That he who claims to be their father is not telling the truth. It is not right in the eyes of the Seven, and it is not right for the throne. And Rhaenyra knows it too, and soon Jace will. And all of this, Gaella, do you know what this means?"

The girl shook her head.

"It means we are in danger. Your brothers, me...you. Those with sense will refuse to bow the knee to Rhaenyra and her bastards and she will seek to annihilate any other option the people may have. And that other option is us."

"But Rhaenyra is my sister...and Jace is my friend and would never hurt me."

"That's what they think now. But when your father leaves us, Rhaenyra will want to keep you trapped, and she'll end up with us. Everything Jace does now is to try to use you in the future. He'll make you live a life in captivity, while he kills Aegon and Aemond, and any children they may have. And then you will see that this is all a big lie. They want us to cover for them while they lie to others. The only scenario in which you come out alive is the one where they use you to have platinum-haired heirs. Is that the future you want?"

Gaella didn't know what future she wished for yet, she just wanted to worry about her dinner and her soft pyjamas. But she also knew she didn't want to see her family die, no matter how long she might still be alive.

"No, mother," she whispered.

"Then you must resist, stay away from Jace."

The next dress she wore the next day was still blue, like the previous ones, but the headband that held her hair back was green. And that day she told Jace that she would rather go with Helaena to sew. It was a lie, and during the long hours of sewing, Gaella thought constantly of how much she missed Jace. Then she heard her mother's voice, and it all made sense again. Days passed, and Jace kept calling her, but she gave him little more than a smile. The prince made the most of the little time he allowed her, accompanying her wherever she went before he strayed, telling her a summary of the things that had happened in her absence. Lessons with him were still fun, but Jace became aware of Gaella's newfound ignorance of him. He said a secret farewell to the Prince as they left for Dragonstone. She wore no green anywhere and gave him a big hug in secret. She wept silently for days, only Helaena could see her.

By the time they were reunited at Driftmark, Jace's absence had become routine, and she bonded with Aemond. Still, he never wanted to go out beyond the library and would get angry when Gaella insisted on mischief. When she saw him at Laena's funeral, she was immediately happy. He looked sad, and the news of Ser Harwin's death had reached all the lords. And she went to comfort him when she found him holding hands with Baela Targaryen.It was silly, but the pain in her chest was so great that Gaella turned away, trying not to cry. Remembering the one time they had hold hands like that, she recognized the affection and curiosity in the grip between Baela and Jace.

Aemond was eyeing Vhagar, not paying attention to anything else, so when he told his sister he was going to claim her, she couldn't stop him, he was determined. Then the worst happened. Holding Aemond's hand as his eyelid was sewn shut, Rhaenyra deflected attention to the fact that someone had told the truth, that Jace and Luke were bastards. That night, she could see everything her mother explained to her and how lonely they could be. The next day, Jace tried to win a hug from Gaella, but Gaella, dressed head to toe in green, turned her back on him, without a word.

Six years passed, and Jace had sent a few messages that Gaella refused to answer. Every day, more and more locked up in her castle, more and more still, for the walks took her back to those precious evenings with her friend Jace. The only words she began to hear were those of Alicent and Aemond, Helaena's sadness when they sewed, Otto's speeches, and the unpleasantness of Aegon's presence, made an impression on Gaella. Rightly so, she was deeply saddened, but she was at ease with the routine and felt tremendously annoyed when they arrived back at court. Of course, it was Rhaenyra's first accusation of her children's origins, and it would not be a pleasant visit.

She could see him when she looked out the window. How much he had changed...Gaella never imagined that Jace could have been so handsome and that indeed, with his Strong features, his mother's genes made him look like a true prince. He could see her then, and Jace didn't know what to do, for he had long since given up on their friendship, yet there she was, peering out, dressed in green and not daring to approach. He could see her slip back inside within seconds of connecting glances.

Over the years, Jace could get a sense of what had happened, and his mother had never told him otherwise. And he would not be ashamed to be the son of a man as brave as Harwin, but he had a right to his throne because he was ready for it. Still, it couldn't stop him from dreaming at night of winning back Gaella's smile. And he could not help but feel anger when he thought that she had already chosen sides in such a cowardly way. Now he saw her and did not know if he really recognised her in all that harshness. He searched the castle slyly for her, with Lucerys at his side. It was in the night time, prowling the gardens, that he could see her enjoying the cool wind.

"The castle has changed so much since I was here," Jace told her. The girl only gave him a sidelong glance.

"You've changed a lot too," she replied dryly.

"No, not really." He looked down at her green dress and the lack of smile on her face. "You have changed, even if you still have the same face as when you were little."

"You can not talk about what I am like when we haven't spoken for six years."

"It's not because I haven't tried to avoid it." Jace bristled, but she only stood up straighter in her place. "I've written to you and you never answered."

"I didn't say I disliked the lack of contact. I know very well what I have and haven't done over the years. And I'd like to keep things the same."

As Gaella turned to leave, Jace stepped in front of her, blocking her path and forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Do you really think I don't have a say about you? We were friends, thick as thieves." Jace was trying to recognize something in her face to keep faith.

"We were children together, but we've grown apart."

"We haven't grown that far apart, Gaella. Tell me, do you still enjoy stories about Nymeria? Do you still drink orange juice with honey biscuits in the evenings?" Jace watched as his friend's sparkle returned to her eyes for a moment. "You're certainly still sitting on the yellow rose bench in the garden. That hasn't changed."

Gaella did not know what to say. She shook her head and looked at the Prince before her. His broad shoulders and brown eyes looked at her with an affection she needed, genuine affection, not the familiar kind.

"You don't understand, Jacaerys. You cling too tightly to something that existed for too short a time. We can no longer be children, and we can no longer pretend that all will be well. Tomorrow you will be robbed of an inheritance you clearly do not deserve. So I'm not going to lie to you. I don't want to... I don't want to lie to you."

And with that, Gaella tried to walk away, leaving Jace behind, whose last words she heard echoing in the garden, leaving her heartbroken for the entire night.

"I've never pretended, Gaella. I've never had to do it with you."

The next day, Gaella's gaze didn't travel far from Jace. She couldn't help it, though he was good at it, only glancing back at her from time to time, not getting flustered, knowing that Gaella was caught between her brothers. But he would not let her have the satisfaction of knowing how much he cared for her. He'd already tried, and he'd already wasted his time. Besides, now he had to worry about Luke and about honouring his future wife, Baela. When the call ended bloodily, the night came slowly and stormily. A forced dinner, to please the old king.

Jace was talking to Baela, of whom he was somewhat fond, when Gaella came through the door. In a green dress, of course, but so beautiful that Jace lost the thread of his conversation. Her curves stood out, reminding him that indeed, much time had passed and she had begun to become a woman. A woman who gave Jace a rather dirty look, not really understanding why. Gaella almost left when she walked in and saw them together again. A beauty like Baela who made Jace smile and who would spend the dinner by his side. She instead sat next to her brother Aemond, who was silent and disgusted by the happy ending of the boy who snatched his eye. When their mothers apologised to each other, Jace pointed his glass discreetly at Gaella and immediately wanted to cry. He still didn't understand. Life was never that fair. And every time he and Baela smiled at each other, Gaella felt like throwing herself between them. As her mother had told her, Jace had only wanted to use her, and now that she would not be his wife, his attention was elsewhere. And when he asked Helaena to dance, she could see him glancing sideways at her, as if he felt the same pity for her as he did for Helaena. And as it now costum with the family, the scene ended violently.

Gaella walked to her sister's room to help her put her children to sleep, as always. She had put on her blue sleep dress with woven clouds. When Jace couldn't sleep, his shoulder sore from the fall he walked across the hall, where he recognized her voice. Gaella was telling stories with the passion that had entranced him as a child. And he waited for her to finish, enjoying the scent of his old friend. Little did she know that he was there, listening and smiling.

"You should go to bed. They'll put you on the ship early tomorrow," Gaella told him when she found him half asleep outside the room.

"Your voice has put me to sleep. As I suppose it has put the children to sleep."

Gaella tried to suppress a smile. She blushed as Jace ran his eyes down her dress.

"And now it's my bedtime," she informed him, still in her seat. Jace just smiled.

"Goodnight then."

She didn't move, she couldn't because he wasn't moving. She watched as he clutched his shoulder.

"Does it hurt?"

"Quite a lot. But I just need to move it a bit...forget that the bump is there." He moved his shoulder slowly, and his face couldn't hide the pain.

"That's not how you fix things. I think you learned that lesson today."

Jace just sighed, watching her face, the one he had missed so much.

"I should have asked you to dance too. You're a better dancer than Helaena."

"That's a lie... I was always stepping on your feet."

Jace laughed.

"True, true... but I liked you better. I liked dancing with you because I had an excuse to touch your hands." He could see Gaella remember and smiled slightly. He didn't know that Gaella felt electricity when they had danced as children." I see you, Gaella. And I'm more than willing to help you get out of here, where they have you trapped in green and sat with a man who barely speaks a word to you. Sometimes I see you so clearly... I know you are in there, beneath all that."

She stared at him, her eyes glowing with unwanted tears about to fall. And then Gaella shook her head, returning to his dark gaze.

"You should have asked your future wife to dance."

Jace watched again as her curly white hair moved as she turned her back on him once more, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway. The pain in his shoulder returned to Jace immediately.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x oc #jacaerys x oc #harry collett

261 notes · View notes

zoroshark · 10 months

Text

This is my zonai oc, Tohma! She was once an oracle of Rauru and Sonia before the events of TOTK. She went mad after seeing the fate of the kingdom through her visions multiple times with no sign of change. She eventually ran away after a misunderstanding between her and the royal court, becoming a hermit in the process.

More information about her is down below! Warning for spoilers for TOTK. It's also a lengthy read.

Gender: Female

Age: 27 (in hylian years)

Height: 7'0"

Personality: Humble, Nervous, Confident (to an extent), Jumpy, Easygoing, Mischievous

Secret stone: Stone of Future Sight (Symbol based on the kanji meaning "see")

General info: Running away from a broken home, Tohma grew up in the wilderness of Hyrule (before it became established as Hyrule). Tohma was born with the ability to see into the future. At a young age, she saw misty visions of zonai falling one by one, along with other small instances that made her jittery. Despite of that, she did her best to keep her head up high, even if things looked grim.

As an adult, she believed she was the last of her kind and wandered around different locations to make what she could with her life. Eventually, she was found by Rauru and Sonia and the two took her to their castle. She joined their royal court as their oracle. Along with becoming an oracle, she was given a stone of her own, and it helped amplify her visions.

However, when Tohma looked into the future with the stone in hand, she saw the fall of the kingdom. Terrified, she immediately notified the couple of the kingdom's fall and started to look into other futures/solutions to deter the outcome. She became obsessed with changing the future, to the point her mental health took a heavy toll and she became a hazard to everyone. At one point, an intervention for Tohma was to be held, but she ran away before it ever happened. In her paranoid state, she took this as a sign they were going to lock her away. She became a hermit in her final years, waiting and praying that her visions never come true (sadly, they did).

Abilities

Future Vision:

Her visions were almost a guarantee. There was always a slim chance of the outcome being different, which tend to give Tohma some hope for a different outcome.

Thanks to the stone, she could see years into the future and get a better general estimate in when they will happen

She uses her visions in combat, making it easier to dodge/plan attacks. However, due to these being a quick insight, they are not as accurate as putting her full focus into a vision. It was used to have a general feel and idea of what may happen/what is to come during a fight.

Her third eye opens whenever she looks into the future.

Puppetry:

Along with her future vision, Tohma also had a puppetry ability. She was more attuned to her visions than her puppetry, hence not being affected by her stone. Her puppetry was zonai magic based.

With her puppetry ability, she was able to pull and throw small objects towards her or anyone and control constructs. Because this ability wasn't amplified, the ability required full body involvement when used on a construct (when she moves, the construct in her control copies her exact movement. Ex: if she points with her right hand, the construct's right hand does the same)

This ability can also work on disembodies zonai parts and can act as extra set of limbs

Her hands would glow a bright teal color (like Rauru's) whenever this ability was in use. Small zonai runes would appear next to the object being controlled. these runes would look like strings and would fade out as they went towards Tohma (on a construct, each body part would have a "string")

Notes:

She ran away with her stone. At some point, she avoided using it and seeing into the future as much as possible, seeing her future sight as a curse.

Tohma puppetry ability was found out by Mineru when looking out a window and seeing/hearing a steward construct in distress from Tohma controlling it. From there, Mineru would make a battle construct for Tohma to use her ability on. (design is a WIP for now)

Before her puppetry ability was found out, she would secretly mess with the constructs, dancing with them

Despite being an the royal court's Oracle, Tohma had experience in combat. It was mainly used for self defense or when needed. Her weapons of choice would be her fists, legs, and zonai spear. She would also use her construct in combat.

Her confidence is mainly a façade to keep herself from spiraling into anxiety/from losing hope. Basically a "fake it till you make it" type of deal.

She eventually dies from a broken heart, becoming a spirit who constantly weeps and morns for the kingdom.

An alternative ending for her is after the Imprisoning War, she falls into a chasm and swallows her stone, not wanting to live with the memories and visions that haunt her. She becomes a dragon that roams solely in the depths below.

As a hermit, her voice becomes raspy from constantly crying and screaming.

She tends to shoo off any unwanted visitors as a hermit but should one attempt to stay, she would let them

In her loneliness, she would control a broken construct and have "conversations" with it

#my art #artists on tumblr #tloz #tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda #totk #tloz totk #loz #zonai #zonai oc #tohma #my ocs #oc ref #I'll draw the construct she controls and her what if dragon form at one point #I love my sad zonai gal ;-;#totk spoilers #just in case #stuff may change but this what i got

249 notes · View notes

broke-art · 1 year

Text

Kui Mulang x reader

SPOILER WARNING

You struggled against the soldiers as they dragged you further into the forest.

After Tang had teleported you in a rush, you and Mei had dropped into a forested area that you of course didn't recognize.

"Get off a me!" You shouted thrashing in their grips. You made one stumble slightly but the other quickly corrected him and tugged on your arm painfully.

"If I had my sword I'd slice ya and dice ya!" Mei yelled loudly as a circular entrance opened.

You gasped a bit as the pair of guards holding you and Mei shoved you both forward and you hit the ground on your knees.

The entrance behind you closed as a voice captured your full attention.

"Well well well." A man spoke from atop a throne ahead of you. "Who are these little creatures that have come wandering into my den?" He asked introspectively.

Instantly your heart fluttered at the sound of his voice shocking you especially. If you didn't know any better, you'd say his voice was familiar.

"Who are you?! What am I doing here?! What do you want?!" Mei demanded getting to her feet. You followed suit but kept your peace.

Yet inside your magic roiled almost excitedly. Though you had zero idea why. Instead of focusing on that you tossed your gaze around the room looking for an exit or possible escape.

Maybe if Mei could just keep him busy.

"Feisty." The man mused. "Very well, allow me to tell you a tale."

You felt the urge to squirm as Mei's tone turned nervous.

"Oh that's ok we should Go-"

She was cut off by his tale none the less.

As he spoke the story began to sound more and more familiar and more and more disturbing.

"I am Kui Mulang God of the celestial court one of the 28 mansions of the white tiger and devourer of earthly souls."

You flinched feeling a chill run down your spine.

"Oh I'll be spicy, Alright!" Mei shouted.

"Mei wait!" You began but it was too late she'd already charged at him only to be restrained by magic runes only a second later.

In an instant similar runes locked you in place despite your struggle

"Ah such power. And yet powerless to use it." Kui Mulang muttered thoughtfully observing Mei.

"Let her go!" You shouted thrashing against the runes holding you fast. To your shock the runes began to crack under your thrashes.

Kui Mulang gave a small hum as he looked around Mei.

"Come into the light." He ordered.

You were about to refuse but a rune at your back shoved you forward. Forcing you to kneel before his throne.

Kui Mulang's eyes widened. With a small gasp.

"It's you."

You glanced up.

"My beloved reborn." He whispered touching a hand to your cheek. "But how is this so? So soon?"

Despite yourself your cheeks heated at his touch but regardless, you pulled away as much as the restraints would allow.

"Don't touch me."

Kui Mulang frowned.

"You don't remember." He turned. "No matter. You will. In time."

"Take the dragon girl to the cells." He ordered with dismissive wave of his hand which effectively dropped Mei into guards who had just entered.

"Wait, No!" You yelled thrashing against the chains as they dragged her away.

Kui Mulang took your chin in hand.

"Don't fret, my love. Soon all will be made clear."

With a snap of his fingers your world seemed to blur then fade to black.

Dun dun dun!

Would you guys like more Kui Mulang fics? Let me know in the comments.

287 notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 1 year

Text

chapter xi - gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,700+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

“Eris…” She hummed to him. “Eris Vanserra.”

Then her voice grew more urgent. “Eris…Eris…ERIS!”

He finally shot up in bed.

Sweat covered Eris’ naked torso as he awoke. Yet goosebumps covered his skin.

Eris looked to the windows in his bedchambers, and saw that one was open, and there was a strong wind coming through.

He paused, not remembering leaving it open before he went to bed.

Slowly, he emerged from his bed and walked to the window.

Eris stood at the opening, hands gripping the sill.

A part of him waited for her voice to call out for him still, even now that he was awake. But the wind was quiet, only slightly brushing by him, and cooling the sweat on his muscular chest.

It was hard to decipher what was actually Y/N calling to him and what was the bond messing with his head. Everything about the two of them felt unprecedented due to Y/N not being merely mortal.

Eris looked at the block on his nightstand. He had only been sleeping for barely two hours when he’d awoken. That was the most he'd gotten in weeks.

Go to her, his soul begged.

Eris suddenly found himself considering his responsibilities in the next couple of days. They were lesser than usual. Why did his heart lighten at that realization?

Eris closed the window slowly, making sure to secure it this time.

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Rhysand and Feyre had granted access to Velaris to Eris not long after his first visit to the Night Court where he left Y/N with them. They hadn’t really known what to expect in regards to Eris actually taking advantage of the privilege.

Eris had never explored the mystery city. But the bond or perhaps Y/N’s magic – maybe both – seemed to be guiding him.

He finally turned a tight corner and stopped in his tracks.

Y/N sat outside what he presumed was her shop. She’d pulled a chair out and seemed to be taking in the morning sun with a large mug of coffee.

It took Eris a second to realize that there was a spoon in the mug that was stirring itself, while Y/N’s hands kept warm by cupping the sides. He smirked at the little bit of magic.

Then he noticed that Y/N was mumbling under her breath, as if trying to hide it from anyone who might be wandering past.

A part of Eris wanted to turn around and forget this whole idea.

But it was nearly impossible to ignore how much better he felt just seeing his mate. The tension in his shoulders was gone, he stood up straighter, the migraine had finally weakened, and the exhaustion had been replaced with a sudden pierce of energy and awareness.

Eris’ body moved on its own accord.

It was only when he was a few feet away that Y/N’s eyes met his and they widened in surprise at his appearance.

Y/N had been talking, mid sentence, when she noticed him.

“Sorry,” she blurted out without even meaning to.

“Never apologize to me, Y/N.”

Eris blinked, suddenly realizing he’d never addressed her by her own name before.

But then he remembered what Cassian had told him: that many thought Y/N to be crazy due to her gifts in witchcraft. And Eris’ hands clenched into fists at his sides, thinking of anyone saying such things about his mate.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N blurted out. She blinked rapidly. “I-I-I mean, what are you doing in Velaris?”

“News of your store has reached even Autumn Court…” Eris said. But then added, “But I have business with the High Lord and Lady.”

Though he caught how his words came through his mask still – cold and emotionless.

And Y/N caught it, too. For she shifted in her seat with discomfort, unsure of how to respond to the clashing of his words with his tone.

Eris cleared his throat and looked at the ground.

Damn himself. He couldn’t even talk to his mate without sounding like some arse.

“Are you quite well?”

His head shot up at the question.

Surely she wasn’t talking to him.

But she was.

In fact, Y/N's gaze studied him with genuine concern. He caught how they lingered on the deep shadows beneath his amber eyes.

While Eris never dressed and groomed less than perfection every day of his life, it appeared his exhaustion was impossible to hide.

Eris bowed his head. “It seems a good night’s sleep has rather been a challenge for me, as of late…”

He didn’t see the point in trying to lie to Y/N. The truth was quite clear and he did not wish to seem like he thought her some fool.

Y/N gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m familiar.”

Eris wouldn’t meet her gaze now.

But he heard her slowly stand from her chair and walk to him.

“Would you like to come in for some tea?”

Eris’ gaze once again shot up to meet her’s.

Y/N stepped even closer with an encouraging smile. “P-Please, I insist.”

Eris shifted his weight. “I will not be in your way? Your shop has just opened.”

Y/N shook her head. “Business is usually slow in the mornings, especially this early in the week. I promise it is no bother.”

Eris finally nodded and put a few steps between them as he followed her into the store. Just before stepping in, he looked around them, half expecting that Spymaster to be watching from the darkness or perhaps even one his his shadows.

Y/N led them to what appeared to be a backroom in the the store.

A fire was already kindling in the small hearth. Above it hung dozens of herbs drying from being upside down and hanging in front of the warmth. There was a desk shoved into the corner, with a dozen quills and some notebooks strewn across its surface.

Eris assumed this was where Y/N did all of her conjuring and casting for her merchandise.

Despite it being her place of work, Eris still felt like he was tainting her personal space, her closest thing to home and sanctuary.��

“Please, do sit.” Y/N gestured to a small table with three chairs opposite the room from the fireplace.

Eris watched Y/N as she started moving about the room. He studied her outfit: a full quilted skirt and a simple white, button-up shirt with the sleeves already rolled up for her work. It looked less Night Court than the other outfits he’d seen her in.

A few moments later, Y/N placed a large mug of tea in front of Eris while she had poured herself another mug of coffee.

“You are quite frustrating, you know?” Y/N smirked at him before taking a sip of coffee.

Eris tilted his head. “How so?”

“You save my life, bring me here – a court where you hold no true friends. Your own brother doesn’t seem fond of you. And even he seemed confused that you helped me at all in the first place.”

“Anything else?” Eris quipped.

Yes,” Y/N huffed as she sat back and crossed her arms. “T-They tell me too little.”

Eris couldn’t help but smirk. “They as in the wind?”

She hesitated before nodding.

“The Night Court is the safest court in the fae realm for a mortal,” Eris finally explained, as if it were obvious. “I do not have connections in the mortal realm.”

That was not entirely true. He could’ve brought Y/N to the Exiles’ manor. But he didn’t see Jurian or Vassa as capable enough to protect his mate. Furthermore, they owed him nothing.

Y/N’s voice was almost a whisper as she asked, “Are things really so terrible in Autumn Court?”

Eris only nodded.

“It may seem hard to believe and though my circumstances were menacing…” She took in a shaky breath. “There was a moment where I couldn’t ignore how…beautiful it was.”

Eris froze at such a confession. Y/N was dragged and tortured like a slave through his court, yet she still found the beauty in it, same as him.

“It is not the land that is terrible,” he corrected. “But its ruler and those who stay loyal to him, despite his evil.”

“And that is why sleep evades you?” Y/N asked carefully.

Eris lifted his tea again and simply said, “Perhaps.”

A peaceful silence settled between them. There was only the crackling of the fire, something brewing in a cauldron above it, and the soft ticking of a clock on another wall.

“You speak of overthrowing your own father so carelessly…I cannot help but ask: what will you do to make it better?”

Eris was rendered speechless. He realized that no one had ever asked him that – mostly because his plans to usurp his father were a dangerous secret. And the few that knew – which was mostly Rhysand’s inner circle – saw him as no less evil than Beron.

Y/N interpreted his silence as offense.

“Excuse me,” she quickly apologized. “I’ve f-f-finally spoken out of turn.”

Her head bowed in shame as she sipped her coffee more.

“The farmers,” Eris muttered without realizing it.

Y/N looked at him with confusion. “The farmers?”

“My father pays them poorly. He does it so they’re competitive, desperate, and will do anything for more money or his favor. I would pay them the wage they deserve.”

“What else?” Y/N encouraged.

Unbeknownst to Eris, she had seen a spark light in those amber eyes of his. And she wanted to make it burn even brighter.

“I would banish all the courtier’s who did nothing to stand against my father’s malevolence, all because they gained either power or riches from it. I would view the other court’s as allies, not enemies who would strike Autumn at any moment.”

Eris took in a deep breath, as if sharing such a thing was the greatest relief. “Autumn Court would become prosperous from my people’s contentment and harmony, not from their fear and pain.”

Y/N watched him in shy wonderment.

“But perhaps I am no better than my father,” Eris muttered, staring into his tea.

Y/N surprised him by leaning forward with utter determination on her face. “The winds say nothing but hideous things about Beron Vanserra.” She hissed his father’s name as if it were venomous. “Was it not him who allowed my trading through his court?”

She huffed and leaned back, her face softening. “You are not your father. There is much I must learn of you, Eris Vanserra, but that I am sure of. Because you saved my life in the woods that day.”

The breath had been knocked from Eris’ chest. He could not breathe, he could not speak. All he could do was feel the heavy beating of his heart and the string between him and Y/N get pulled even tighter.

If Y/N saw the impact her words had on him, she didn’t show it.

But their moment was interrupted by the shops entrance bell dinging.

“Excuse me,” Y/N said politely as she stood. “I will be right back.”

As soon as she left the backroom, a gasp left Eris. It was like he had been drowning until that very moment when those words left Y/N’s lips. Now his lungs were fighting for every breath.

It took a few minutes for him to gain control of himself again.

And then he suddenly felt a crest of fatigue.

Now that Eris was finally in the presence of his mate again, surrounded by her scent and her safe space, could his body finally find rest?

Eris didn’t mean to, but before Y/N returned, he slumped back in his chair and allowed his eyes to slowly close.

–🍁–🍁–🍁–

Eris awoke to the sound of something lightly hitting the table in front of him.

He jolted awake, quickly remembered where he was by catching Y/N’s sent.

Before him on the table, a bowl of stew had been placed.

He looked up to see that it was Y/N who had placed it there and she was ladling another portion into a bowl for herself.

“How long was I asleep for?” Eris asked hurriedly.

Y/N smirked. “About 6 hours.”

Eris’ eyes snapped to the now empty tea he had been drinking.

“You put something in my drink,” he accused.

Y/N sat across from him with her own bowl of stew. “I did. But it should not have been that strong. You are more tired than you let on.”

It was not the tea, Eris thought. You. You are the magic.

“Are you upset with me?” Y/N asked before taking her first bite of stew.

He narrowed his gaze, the mask slightly returning. “I suppose it would not matter if I was.”

“I promise you were perfectly safe back here,” Y/N added. “I checked on you throughout the day.”

That’s when Eris realized that there had also been a blanket placed on his lap.

He looked at the bowl of stew in front of him again.

“Do you need to return to the House of Wind?” Eris asked, expecting one of Rhysand’s bats to interrupt them at any moment to fly her home.

“They had an important meeting in Day Court...or Winter Court. Can’t remember.”

But Eris knew she did remember. Y/N just didn’t trust Eris enough with that information. It could be nothing important, yet she still protected her friends and the Night Court from him.

“Thank you…for the stew,” Eris told her softly.

“I’m sure it doesn’t compare to the food at your Court,” she admitted.

Eris didn’t correct her. He was too busy thinking of this happening once she felt the mating bond, once it had been awoken for her…and she made him this same meal to accept their bond. Eris knew this didn’t answer the magic, he would’ve felt it. But that didn’t stop him from dreaming of the future.

“You know, Lucien actually asked me to dinner not too long ago,” Y/N said through a smile before blowing on a spoonful of stew.

Eris’ spoon clattered to the table as he growled, “Stay away from him.”

The growl alone made Y/N laugh at the male, “What ever for?”

His reaction was exactly the one she had been fishing for and came out triumphant. It seemed rather easy to taunt Eris. And for some reason, Y/N got such joy from it.

“I’ve seen many a female fall for his hollow charm. You can do better.”

Y/N smirked at that. “Oh, can I?”

Eris refused to elaborate, choosing to take another bite instead.

Yes, he wanted Y/N to find someone else to love – someone better, safer. But to love Lucien would be the Cauldron’s greatest tortures. And she would be no safer from Beron with him.

“If I’m being honest,” Y/N started quietly. “I rather pity him.”

Eris made a noise of disgust. “What for?”

“I do not know much about these mating bonds of faes. But is it not heartbreaking that Elain will not so much as give him a chance?”

Did Eris dare ask the question that was screaming in his mind to be let out?

“And what do you think of it all?”

“What?”

“Mating bonds.”

Her brow furrowed in thought. “At first it seemed so…magical.”

“Spoken from a witch...” Eris answered gruffly.

She glared at him, but continued. “But then Feyre said it didn’t guarantee the two would be happy or in love. And it seemed…r-rather cruel.” She blinked and shook her head. “Look at Lucien…I fear he is lonely. Will he just live the rest of his immortality unloved? And that…that is the true dark side of it all.”

Eris felt sick at the her words.

Y/N was so unaware that she spoke of the same thing to her own mate. But to her, it was impossible to have one the begin with.

“Your mother and father are they…?”

Eris cleared his throat in attempt to push back all the emotions that threatened to expose themselves. “No. No, my mother’s marriage to my father was arranged. No female with any sense would ever agree to marry my father.”

“And do you have–”

But Y/N’s question was interrupted by the shop bell dinging once again.

“Oi!” Cassian yelled into the shop. “Are you sleeping in the back again?”

“Cassian, must you always be yelling?” Feyre giggled.

“Back so soon?” Y/N called back through a smile.

“Why?" Cassian laughed. "Did you think we forgot about yo–”

Feyre and Cassian froze in the doorway when they spotted Eris.

Y/N shrunk in her seat, not sure how to handle their reaction to her guest.

Feyre recovered first. “Eris, we were not expecting you.”

“I had already warned him that you were all on court business,” Y/N answered.

“Ready to go home, Y/N?” Cassian asked.

“Yes. Store has already been cleaned. I just have to put out the fire and lock up.”

With a wave of Eris hand, the fire extinguished, as well as every candle in the store.

Y/N paused in awe at it.

She had assumed Eris had some abilities due to being High Fae and the heir to Autumn Court. But it was still amazing to see.

“Perhaps we shall wait for you outside,” Feyre answered as she shoved Cassian in the direction of the entrance.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Y/N jumped to her feet and handed Eris a wicker basket that was covered with a grey linen cloth.

Eris squinted. “What is this?”

“Sleep candles,” Y/N answered as if it were obvious. “They’re enchanted, but filled with mostly lavender and then some mugwort, rose petals, and rosemary.”

She pointed to a bundle of waxy leaves. “Eucalyptus. Hang it near your bathtub. The steam will impel its relaxing elements.”

Finally she pointed to a jar filled with tea leaves. “This is the poison I gave you earlier today,” she explained with a mischievous smirk.

“Very funny,” Eris cut.

He tried not to let his heart warm from her handing him such thoughtful gifts.

So, instead, he coldly asked, “How much?”

“Free,” Y/N answered, clearly expecting such a question.

Finally, she realized how dark it had gotten in her shop after Eris blew out every flame.

“I never really properly thanked you…for what you did for me.”

“I didn’t do it for your gratitude,” Eris answered harshly.

But at least his words were true.

Y/N shook her head at him, almost amused by his severity. “Take the candles and tea, Eris. I have to lock up.”

He started walking out the back room when he paused. “Thank you…for dinner. And for the sleep. And for the…company.”

Eris didn’t look at her as he finally finished with, “I am sure you could see how much I needed it.”

Y/N looked at him with such sincere sympathy. “You are welcome to rest here anytime.”

Eris walked outside to find Cassian and Feyre talking hurriedly, yet quietly, between each other. It stopped as soon as they spotted Eris walking out of the store. Both their gazes snapped to the basket in his grasp.

“Testing the merchandise?” Cassian asked with a playfulness in his eyes.

Feyre elbowed him in the ribs.

Eris had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the two of them. “I shall take my leave.”

“Wait,” Feyre stepped forward.

Y/N emerged from her store, starting to lock it behind her.

“We have matters to discuss,” Feyre added, ignoring Y/N’s presence.

Cassian stepped to Y/N with a knowing smirk and his arms held out.

“Shall we?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Y/N groaned. “I’m never going to grow to like flying, you know.”

Cassian lifted her into his arms like she weighed nothing. And Eris tried to push down the feeling of jealousy and rage he had at seeing another male holding his mate.

“I know,” Cassian laughed before launching them into the air.

Y/N yelped and Eris caught her hiding her face in Cassian’s neck.

“She’s fine,” Feyre told him as she had closely watched Eris’ reaction to his mate being flown further and further away from him by another male.

Eris ignored the High Lady’s comment and turned to her, already knowing he would not like this conversation.

“What is this about?” He asked with cold annoyance. “Have we changed our minds about my visiting rights to the Night Court?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” Feyre began. “Though I wish I didn’t have to care, I do. Because Y/N has become one of us.”

“Yes,” Eris growled. “That has become abundantly clear.”

“I’m going to show you something. Something she said. Lower your shields.”

Eris wanted to refuse such a request, but did as she asked.

Images of Y/N flooded his mind. She was drunk and beautiful, warming the room of what looked to be a pleasure house.

“I-I’ve had my fair share of lovers during my travels – with mortal men…”

“Lovers,” Y/N repeated her own words in a giggle. “As if they were even worthy of the title.”

Y/N’s face suddenly became somewhat sober, twisting into something almost sad.

Her eyes grew distant. “It never really ended up feeling how I wanted it to. I was always left feeling…used.”

She let out a drunken, huff of a laugh. “So I stopped bothering…”

Then Feyre was out of Eris head and his shields returned.

Eris was breathing heavily, nostrils flared. His chest expanded quickly. And his hands were in fists at his side, both surrounded by a ball of deadly flame.

Whatever males had ever touched Y/N to make her feel such a way…

Everything in Eris’ being wanted to find each of them and torture them until they were begging him for death.

Feyre stepped closer and lowered her voice as she uttered, “I do not know what your intentions are with Y/N. But understand…if you do anything to treat her in a similar matter, my Court will counter accordingly.”

Eris held the High Lady’s glare, not backing down.

And then he winnowed back to Autumn Court.

––––––––

please, please, please be nice and leave a comment. leave a book report. dissect what you must. it would bring me such joy.

chapter xii

#gust & flame #eris actoar #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #autumn court #acotar #a court of thorns & roses #velaris #night court #feyre archeron #cassian

450 notes · View notes

whoopsyeahokay · 3 days

Text

October Sun

summary: Wally had needed a moment alone since you two had parted ways earlier that morning. it had given him a chance to lay out the facts and finally see what trainwrecks of ghosts he and the others had been.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.

blessings, blessings, everyone. i come bearing new(ish) content! 🫶

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.15

Wally skulked into the teacher's lounge, bypassing the gathering in the main space where Mr. Hartman held court. The words 'footprints' and 'service road' filtered above a firing squad of sharp questions as Wally made his way to the back, into the kitchenette, where he grabbed an empty mug off the rack.

Obviously, the police had been in touch. He wondered vaguely if Maddie had heard the news. He hoped so. It would be tremendously weird if he knew something about what had happened to her before she did, the feeling like sludge in his throat.

Wandering back out, he kept an ear open to Mr. Hartman's speech and set himself up at the coffee machine. Filled the mug almost to the brim, added two sachets of brown sugar, and stirred. Placed the dirty spoon in an abandoned, half-empty glass of water and then tucked himself quietly away back in the kitchenette.

Mr. Anderson wasn't amongst the faces Wally recognized as the teachers who held senior classes. A good thing since Wally was still pissed. Never mind that the guy might be solely responsible for Maddie's ghost; how he'd behaved toward you last night left a nasty taste in Wally's mouth. Made his knuckles itch to punch until Mr. Anderson swallowed his own teeth. Until his eyes pulped and his nose caved in. Until Mr. Anderson was one of them.

Although, Wally thought with bemusement, he didn't want to be stuck with Mr. Anderson. If what you'd said was true—that Wally and the others were trapped—Jesus, imagine having to exist for the rest of eternity in proximity to a monster capable of abusing women.

And that was the crux of his somber mood right there, wasn't it?

Trapped.

They were trapped.

He was trapped.

Wally sagged in his chair, staring at nothing. Steam wafted over his chin and cheeks as he took an absentminded sip of his coffee, the heat and bitterness burning when he swallowed. He set the mug down, held it, and continued to stare blankly ahead.

In the absence of your closeness, a chimera of pain-hurt-betrayal sunk its teeth into his heart and spread under his skin like poison, coming to erupt out of him in an uncharacteristically violent display.

The mug crashed against the wall. Ceramic tinkled to the floor. Wally dropped his head into his hands and heaved a dry, noiseless sob that ended as soon as it began.

He was supposed to have had the chance to say goodbye. To his friends, his girlfriend, his parents—fuck. Even though they wouldn't have been able to hear him, those moments were meant to be HIS.

His choice, his freedom, his right.

But, he'd been denied. Locked in with no escape because he'd had the bad luck to die in a place infected by, what, malevolent devil-cult energy? A witch's final hex on the land? Disrespected ancient fucking burial grounds?

According to the notes you'd written him, even crossed-over, Wally would've been able to reach out and reassure his mamma that he was fine. That he missed her and loved her and everything was going to be alright—

The dull sound of ceramic being set down in front of him interrupted the barrage of hate, rage, grief storming through Wally. Head shooting up, he saw Ajay stepping around the small table to take the seat beside him, sad smile and sad eyes mirroring the pain Wally felt.

When he glanced across the table at the wall, the broken mug and splattered coffee were gone. Reset and then remade and delivered to Wally in an unspoken offering of support.

Eventually, "Are you okay?" Ajay asked in even syllables.

Wally didn't look at him, couldn't find it within himself to fake a smile and pretend. Ajay was a divine kind of perceptive and would see through it in an instant, anyway.

So, Wally opted to avoid giving Ajay an answer by asking a question of his own, "Have you ever thought about why we're having such a hard time crossing over?"

The weight of Ajay's gaze spoke for itself. He didn't say anything for several moments, watching Wally watch the wall—acute, analytical. What Ajay said, when he finally responded, made Wally jump to attention.

"You're talking to her, aren't you?" A statement disguised as a question. Ajay's features conveyed mild amusement.

Wally hesitated and then squeaked out, "Who?" though he could tell that Ajay knew. Had clearly known about you for a while. But, just to be safe, "Maddie? Dawn? Dude, we know a few chicks, you'll have to be more specific."

"Bro," Ajay deadpanned.

"Bro!"

Ajay leveled Wally with a flat look, mouth a slash of disappointment, "Bro..."

Wally's knee began to bounce under the table, sweat beading at his hairline. "Bro?"

"Bro."

Ajay folded his hands on the table and leaned in, as if about to divulge classified information—heavily redacted and for Wally's eyes only, the introduction to which was a kick to the gut.

"My parents," Ajay began, "Were deported the day before my funeral."

Wally released a puff of air from his cheeks, gaze dropping to his lap. His problems suddenly felt minuscule in comparison. "I'm sorry, man, I had no idea."

While it had seemed completely off-topic, Wally considered Ajay a close friend and was familiar with how he operated. Every word he shared had meaning, and, sure enough:

"Neither did I." Ajay said, matter-of-fact. "Her sister was the one who told me almost a decade after they were forced to leave."

Stunned, "Her sister went here?"

"Graduated the year before Katelynn died."

Wally did the math, "Damn, that's an age gap." That put her in her early thirties. Your mama had either been very young when she'd had your sister, or you'd been an unexpected surprise...Or both. "She can see ghosts, too?"

"Naw, but she can feel us."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"She's an empath." Ajay explained, "She used her senses to feel me out. Apparently, when I'm happy, I smell like my mother's biriyani." He chuckled lightly, gaze distant, fond, tinged in the creases by the hurt of missing someone important.

Wally sipped his coffee and gave Ajay a minute to reminisce. Once Ajay's eyes were focused again, Wally asked, "Was it different for her? Because she couldn't see you, I mean. 'Cause the way my girl put it, she'd get into some serious shit if she spoke to me."

Ajay snorted, shook his head, and waved a hand, "Absolutely not. Ora had to follow the same rule. 'Don't interfere' or whatever." He slouched sideways over the table, head in one hand, fingers of the other tracing nonsense patterns into the vinyl surface.

"But she did it anyway?"

"She didn't see how the rule applied to her. How could she interfere when she couldn't even tell if anything was going on." Ajay rolled his eyes the way people did when they talked about their siblings' antics. "I cared more about it than she did. That's why I never told you." His voice sobered, "I never told anyone."

He got up and fetched himself a drink. Took a glass from the cupboard and moved to the sink to fill it from the tap. One sip. Two. Three.

Back still turned to Wally, Ajay further professed, "I knew she was Ora's sister as soon as I saw her. They could be twins," He shuffled back to the table, sat down, "The resemblance is uncanny, I'm telling you. She looks so much like how I remember Ora." A tender smile, "As soon as I confirmed it, I kept an eye on her. Doing what I can to keep the others from discovering her abilities."

"But not me?"

"Oh, believe me, I tried. But it was like herding fucking cats, man. Something greater than all this," Ajay motioned to encompass beyond the room they were in, "Kept working against me. You two found each other no matter what I did." Aggrieved, "Her sophomore year was a bitch."

A laugh burst out of Wally unbidden as memories of that fateful year rolled across his mind like old film, only now the scenes played from Ajay's perspective.

Yeah. It'd probably been a bitch.

As confident as he was that Ajay wouldn't betray him—or you—Wally needed to be doubly sure: "I guess I don't have to ask you to keep our secret then, huh?"

Ajay mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key, punctuating the promise with a friendly wink. "I'll never utter a word."

Wally breathed a sigh of relief, wrapping both hands around his coffee and relaxing into his seat.

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes as Wally collected his thoughts. He returned to the conversation he'd had with you that morning, and then to how Ajay had responded to the question of crossing over. As if he'd been guided to the same truth you'd revealed to Wally. Had your sister—Ora?—figured it out when she'd been a student?

"Why us?" Wally voiced the thought aloud. "Why the school?" He glanced at Ajay who was studying him closely, like a professor watching their pupil solve an unsolvable riddle. "Why can't we cross over?"

"And why did Janet get to?" Ajay granted with a sour line under her name.

On paper, Janet had been as polite as had been expected for a young woman raised in post-war America. All quaint mannerisms and Christian smiles. Voice always set to a reasonable decibel. However, there'd always been a current of disdain underscoring every interaction Janet had had with Mr. Martin.

Of their ragtag ensemble, Janet had been the most hostile toward Mr. Martin's brand of gentle parenting. Unlike Rhonda, who was openly resistant, Janet had playacted through the Group sessions she'd deigned to attend and had giddily punched holes in Mr. Martin's logic whenever she'd had the chance.

It didn't make sense, then, that she had been the first one of them to move on.

"Did you know we're supposed to be able to leave?" Wally said apropos of nothing. "We should be going to movies and bars and, fuck man, I should be able to go to the mall and get a pair of goddamn jeans."

Ajay laughed, adding, "And I could get some real food," with a demonstrative look of yearning.

"Whatever's trapping us here, in the school...what if that's why it's taken so long for one of us to cross over?"

"It makes sense." Ajay shrugged. "Ora never said that it was weird that we couldn't leave the school, but she said enough that I figured it out, and—" He stopped himself abruptly, mouth snapping shut with a clack that made Wally flinch.

Ajay seemed reluctant to continue, eyes zipping left and right as he weighed the pros and cons in his head.

Just when Wally thought that was it, Ajay cleared his throat and scuffed his chair as close to Wally as he could get it without sliding into Wally's lap.

"There's something I think you need to see." He whispered, eyes on the doorway, as if afraid of being overheard.

"Yeah, alright." Wally dragged his chair back and was on his feet in a flash.

Pressing his lips in a regretful line, Ajay nodded toward the clock in the main space of the teacher's lounge. It was empty now, save for a few teachers whose classes didn't start until later.

"Mr. Martin wants us in the gym soon." He pointed out, "But after that, I'll show you."

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. It's just me and you, buddy." Ajay rose and clapped Wally on the back before leading them out of the teacher's lounge and into the hallway. After about a minute, Ajay broke their amiable silence and said, "So, you and the baby Paranormal Activist, huh?"

"I'm telling her you called her that." Wally groused without bite. "And I don't kiss and tell."

"Oh, you don't need to." Ajay assured, "I heard enough about that already."

Wally choked on a swallow. Eyes watering and tongue stuck in his throat, he coughed, "How!?"

"Mina saw you two last night," Ajay revealed, deceptively nonchalant. Before Wally could protest, Ajay signaled that there was nothing to worry about. "She won't say anything. My baby's a vault."

Wally choked again on the endearment, missing a step and staggering forward for two. "Your what!?"

Passive, teasing, "Bro, it's like you don't know anything about me at all," Ajay heaved an enormous, theatrical sigh.

"How does it even work!?" Wally demanded once he recovered. "How long have you two been together??"

With a sly, cheeky look, Ajay simply responded, "Come on, buddy, I'm a gentleman, I don't kiss and tell."

Wally halted on the spot. Sputtered indignantly for a few seconds before he put his hands on his hips and glared at Ajay's retreating back, "Oh, you are such a dick."

💀___________________________

PART FOURTEEN

note: hey my beauties!! thank you so so so so so MUCH for bearing with me as i ironed out the kinks in the plot's fabric. i feel a lot more confident about how to move forward. things just make more sense. i hope everyone is cool with the changes made and that you're still willing to ride this through til the end with meee 🫶

if you'd like to be kept up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS, since the taglist has malfunctioned 🙈 i'm still adding ppl to it, but i can't guarantee that it'll notify you when i update 💀

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies #October Sun

44 notes · View notes