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lavenoon · 1 year

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OH I have a question! I don't think it's been mentioned yet (and if it has been my memory is failing me badly right now XD), is there an equivalent of the incident where Robin defended Sun and Moon against a coworker that invalidated their hard work? Would it be the boys defending Robin in this case, and would it happen before or after each of them was too harsh and apologized?

It hasn't been mentioned, because I haven't thought about it before, but now I am thinking about it extensively

I'd put that kind of scene right after the scares and make-up scenarios, simply for the scenario of, well... Robin is too new to work alone all the time, and thus may have been paired with (a) different agent(s) for one or two missions during the time they avoided Dusk/ Dawn. And maybe those agents had a few choice words for them too, so unused to their antics (plus considering Robin was extra frazzled during that time), maybe expressing surprise and disdain in a "how did you even get this far?" way

So during their next mission with their favorite rival, maybe the distance does come up again, half of another apology already taking roots in their voicebox, but all intent to ensure that Robin really isn't mad anymore just goes out the window when they chuckle self-deprecatingly and just mention how "At least you just think I'm annoying, not incompetent. I'll take that, actually."

Robin doesn't think much of their little comment, already continuing with the mission, easily slipping into that anticipation that they've missed so much, now that they're back to working with someone they know.

Their rival does think quite a lot about it, actually. And rather specific things, too.

Dusk will pull them back right then, a hand on their shoulder, gentle but insistent. Who said that? When? Robin deflects, tries to pacify him, how it's not important, they know their technique is rather peculiar, and -

"Not what I asked, little bird."

He says it in a low voice, not quite a growl, but the no-nonsense tone still rings through as he leans in close and ensures they aren't looking anywhere else. They blink, and without thinking, the code name of the agent in question slips out. They aren't quite happy with how easily he got that out of them - how are they supposed to fare in interrogations, huh? They can't be that easy to crack!

But Dusk is satisfied and straightens, already walking on. When Robin catches up they're prying - why did he want to know so bad? What does he care? But he just says to focus with just enough sing song in his tone that they know he's teasing them. They huff, but let it go

Dusk doesn't. Most agents are scared of him. He almost made Robin afraid of him, too. They're the only one at the agency who looked at him and decided to play, something he missed a lot as he now knows. He doesn't want to lose that.

So if one agent who's (probably) already scared of him anyway ends up terrified of him after a little conversation, he'll count it as a win, because it ensures that Robin won't hear that idiot run his mouth again (:

Robin doesn't find out about this until months later, and by then it feels awkward to bring it up again just to reprimand him ("You can't just go and threaten people because they were mean to me, what the fuck?"), but it does quell some anxiety retroactively, and the next time they see him they call him a dork <3

Dawn is both more subtle, and more direct. He doesn't react visibly in the moment, but over the course of the mission he carefully asks everything he needs to know. Have they worked with many other agents? Any that stuck with them? Why were they so memorable? What code names do they recall?

"What are you, jealous?"

Robin is joking, just a tad confused by the amount of pleasant small talk he's suddenly trying to introduce, and will he be like this every mission now? (No, he'll find much more pleasant things to talk about in the future)

Dawn is quick to wave them off, saying he wants to compare their experiences to his own. He doesn't do well with other agents, but given how he misjudged them, well...

The implication that he may be aware of another shortcoming of his own person is enough to make Robin stop questioning because, well, as far as gift horses go this one may be of trojan magnitude. Meaning there's definitely something fishy going on, but they refuse to ruin what might also bring some more character development. Instead they answer, and even get some info back!

When they get back to HQ though Dawn makes a point to lead them through the lobby past the vending machines, to "get a snack" - and while they take their pick, he scans the area for a specific face. For the sake of this post he'll find who he's looking for, but also know he can be patient and would do this as many times as necessary to make a point.

Smoothly, but suddenly, he leans down to smile at Robin, much more saccharine than he has any right to look. Louder than usual, and louder than necessary, in a tone that carries, Dawn loses his mind.

"Excellent work today, dear."

At least that's what Robin has to assume when they choke on nothing. He quickly starts patting their back, muttering a genuine "oh dear oh dear -", but they're distracted. Wheeze out a "What?", and he leans in a little closer, eyes narrowed just slightly with one hand cradling their cheek to ensure they won't immediately turn to look.

"Certain members of our audience should know you are not to trifle with."

He gives them a beat to process, and then the innocent smile is back. "Don't forget your food. We really should get on with the paperwork, I'll wait in my office." And so he does - and Robin is left reeling.

They do grab their snack of choice - but still too curious for their own good, they turn to look towards the other agents around. And oops, yeah - they recognize a certain someone. They tense, acutely aware of all the eyes on them, and then hurry after Dawn without a word.

The gift horse bit someone on their behalf, and they aren't quite sure what to think of it yet. They just know that their face is very, very warm <3

#answer let luce #chaotikanvas #accidentally undercover #au alt timeline #hatchling au #is this the new norm? not quite #but it's a sign of what they'd do for them at this point #Dawn gets the immediate credit this time because he fucked up worse #but he's also just really a fan of making his points in public and 'polite' conversations #it's his flair for the dramatic #Dusk leans more into the boogeyman but boy does he kill it #(not literally)#lmao #but yeah hehe this was neat to think about

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onedivinemisfit · 2 years

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Obiyuki RPG!AU - pixie kisses~

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

#akagami no shirayukihime #ans #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #shirayuki #obi #myart #rpg au #pixieyuki #shapeshifter obi #yes obi’s wearing that dramatic flair style linen shirt

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ghostypetrainer · 2 years

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you know that once Emmet is at the stage where he can joke about everything that happened in the modern Zoroark possession AU, he’s just the most dramatic little fucker about it. BROTHER FIGHTING BROTHER, he tearfully recalls, A TRAGEDY FOR THE AGES. OH WHAT A TERRIBLE STORY. OH, WHAT DRAMA. WHAT TORMENT.

who is he telling the story to? literally anyone who asks. he hams it up even more for little kids. Bonus points for when Ingo is literally in the back of the ‘audience’, sipping on some coffee like. does he never get tired of this. and Elesa just rolls her eyes and elbows him like yeah? you’re not ever dramatic about it yourself, mr black fox?

and ingo just squints at her like. you have a point and I hate it.

#zoroark possession au #but make it modern #emmet and elesa are the outspoken drama queens #but ingo has an unfailing flair for the dramatic himself

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pucksandpower · 7 months

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Charles Leclerc x Horner!Reader - Social Media AU

y/nhorner

Liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 273,816 others

y/horner waiting to get my wings

View all 529 comments

y/nbiggestfan come on red bull, give our girl her wings already!

y/nhornersupremacy i hate that the talent is right in front of them but they keep overlooking you! totally their loss

y/nhornersupremacy manifesting those wings for you soon! the grid is missing your fierceness

purplesector red bull or alphatauri would be crazy not to lock you down

womeninmotorsport the world needs more phenomenal female drivers like you ❤️

y/n4wdc the day is coming for those wings, i just know it

y/nhorner

Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 1,395,627 others

y/nhorner i don’t care, i paint the town red

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scuderiaferrari red is your color ❤️

charles_leclerc looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other 😉 welcome to the team!

y/nhorner can’t wait 🫶

gridgossip oh it’s about to go down! competing against daddy horner 👀

formulanone never call him daddy again 🥴

womeninmotorsport you go girl! time to show red bull what they missed out on

y/nbiggestfan so excited for you!

lewishamilton onwards and upwards 🙌🏾

y/nhorner thank you, lew!

formulanews red bull must be punching the air right now! y/n and ferrari are going to be a force to be reckoned with together

La Vendicata Revitalizes Ferrari

Maranello, Italy (15 July 2024) - Scuderia Ferrari is reinvigorated in 2024 thanks largely to the arrival of young British driver Y/N Horner. Dubbed “La Vendicata” (The Avenged) by the loyal Tifosi, Horner has made an immediate impact in her first season with the team and rookie season in F1.

Her commanding victories at the Austrian and British Grands Prix added to a consistent streak of podium finishes, establishing Horner as a rising star. Beating Red Bull, her father’s team, on their home soil was sweet revenge after being passed over for a seat.

But Horner’s influence extends beyond her own results. She convinced renowned race strategist Hannah Schmitz to make the jump from Red Bull and breathe new life into the famously questionable Ferrari strategy. Schmitz’s shrewd calls have helped optimize both Leclerc and Horner’s aggressive driving styles.

Additionally, Horner brought along several top designers and engineers from Milton Keynes to strengthen Maranello’s technical team. Her rapport with teammate Charles Leclerc has Ferrari targeting its first Constructors’ Championship and Drivers’ Championship in nearly two decades.

Team Principal Fred Vasseur praised Horner’s technical acumen and work ethic. “Her talent and confidence are matched only by her preparation and diligence. Y/N understands the car and motivates the team.”

The Tifosi have quickly embraced La Vendicata’s bold charisma and flair for the dramatic. With a title challenge in sight, she has brought fresh belief and energy to Ferrari. Still very much early in her career, her potential seems limitless.

Y/N Horner is out to show Red Bull what they lost by revitalizing the Prancing Horse. With La Vendicata and Il Predestinato leading the charge, Ferrari’s glory days may soon return.

y/nhorner

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 784,695 others

y/nhorner i still want your hands up on my body. you still make my heart beat fast, ferrari

View all 631 comments

leclerclover it’s definitely charles! i would know those arms and legs anywhere

trulytifosi i think her boyfriend is just being supportive and wearing ferrari merch

leclerclover no way, the body language is all there. it’s definitely charles!

f1wagupdates charles and y/n would be the dream team on and off the track

lightsoutferrari let’s not jump to conclusions, it could just be a random boyfriend. charles doesn’t have a monopoly on wearing ferrari branded clothing

scuderiay/n i know that nothing’s been confirmed yet but imagine if it is charles 👀 they would have so much chemistry together

monzamash i’m manifesting them so much

scuderiaferrari

Liked by y/nhorner, charles_leclerc, and 2,175,834 others

scuderiaferrari when your drivers take team bonding a bit too seriously

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y/nhorner you told us that we should get close to each other so we did

scuderiaferrari as teammates, maybe friends. not close enough for the admin to be traumatized by finding you with each other’s tongue down your throats while i was just trying to get an espresso

charles_leclerc what can we say? we’re overachievers like that

maxverstappen1 so it’s okay when they do it but when i tried to kiss daniel for team bonding i got in trouble? make it make sense!

redbullracing it’s been seven years, let it go

maxverstappen1 no

ferraricentral clearly whatever they’re doing is working so no complaints here

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ominouspuff · 2 months

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I love rebel fox's ridiculously big sleeves

So glad you do — I dearly love them too. So many opportunities for flourishing and swishing from a man you would expect to do exactly neither and never

Also. You have given me the opportunity to EXPOUND and I’m taking it

The sleeve is not only aesthetic, but so EXTRA

CW mutilation: Fox’s right hand index-finger: “Ahsoka’s Gift” - In the arc where Fives (appears) to get shot by Fox, enraged by this and by her treatment by the Coruscant guard during her trial arc, Ahsoka takes revenge on the offending digit that shot the gun. With her teeth, btw — it gets a bit wild. Side-note: It factors in for the other clones that Fox is not right-handed, but that’s the hand he uses to shoot Fives. Then again, most clones are trained/raised/adjusted to be ambidextrous, so — it’s just odd all around, from the outside.

GAR armor: In keeping with the AU title and inspiration (Repurposing GAR armor towards the end of pulverizing wrinkly Sith — A guide by CC-1010, ecstatically-ex-marshal commander of Coruscant), Fox has kept his GAR shoulder-guards, a cutout of his chestplate, and knee-guards (plus one shin-guard), though the paint on them has been adjusted or worn.

Oversized sleeve: Beneath the batwing sleeve and dramatic flair, Fox is hiding whatever the rebellion uses instead of the Mandalorian Whistling Birds, in addition to an elbow-mini-blaster that fires a max of four shots, and extra ammo. (Also the sleeve is removable — think detachable bridal train)

CW self-destruction: On the reverse side of his chest-plate piece, Fox has an explosive device with multiple ways to rig it to explode. While it is detachable and likely could be used to explode OTHER things, the primary intent is a last resort gesture of defiance should he run out of other options.

Fox also has a replaced tooth (which he makes use of, but no spoilers here) and a metal plate protecting the surgery point for when his chip was removed. Since Fox is Fox, he prioritized speed over care at the time, so it is permanent vulnerability due to how his skull was treated and recovered afterward.

Do you see the knifes on his thigh they are small but they are important

#fan art #artists on tumblr #star wars fanart #star wars: the clone wars #fix it au #commander fox #rebel!fox #I have quite a few hcs for this design #but also it’ll be delicious when there’s negotiations between the rebels and the Republic and Cody (who is present as the ONLY Marsh. Comm)#Is the only one who knows what’s under that stupid cape-sleeve thing bc Cody would absolutely do the same thing #Cody: *slaps Fox’s shoulder giving Obi-Wan a look right in the middle of a negotiation meeting between the rebels/GAR/Republic*#Cody: This shabuir can hold so much karkin weaponry #Cw: mutilation (minor)#Cw: Self-destruction (hypothetical)#this is so indulgent but please indulge with me #the GAR symbol over his heart and that being the piece that has the self-destruct device is the only brand of symbolism Fox can do #Repurposing GAR Armor AU #OmPu Ask Hours

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shibaraki · 7 months

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PAS DE DEUX ┊ GOJO SATORU

tags: GN reader, no curse au (ballet), principal dancer gojo, reader is a photographer for his ballet company, fluff, flirting + casual touch, barre exercising, getting together, first kisses

wc: 2.4K

Gojo Satoru is just a man.

Albeit a coveted man, able to do anything on stage exactly as he would in rehearsal. High arabesques and tight pirouettes. Otherworldly form. Broad hands able to memorise another’s centre of gravity within the first twenty seconds. Swan-like and slender. All agile limbs, a body brazen with self-assurance and packed with strength, reflected in how effortlessly he can catch, spin, and dip his partners. Low, on perfect pointe.

A beautiful, talented, annoying man. That which has chosen to breathe down your neck as you fiddle with your camera, rather than occupy any other corner of the large studio.

“You’re distracting me, Satoru”.

“How am I distracting?” he asked, inclining his head. You gave him a look, and emphatically motioned at him from head to toe. Satoru cracks a grin, those piercing blue eyes gleaming, “By existing?”

“No, because you're all up in my space. I’ll show you the pictures in a second so back up,” you snap, your hand fluttering dismissively at him. “And put a shirt on!”

A low, vibrating hum, and a smile that holds a sincere gentleness to it that you wouldn’t have expected to find. He looks almost boyish. You turn from it and feel his presence move away like the sun being blocked out, steady warmth then the absence of it.

He does not put his shirt on. Instead Satoru takes position at the barre and walks his fingers along the top. Dawn filtered in through the small windows, casting a spotlight onto every dip and curve. You resolutely do not look at that narrow waist, nor how closely his tights clung to his hips, his thighs. Pulled over his soft soled slippers are a pair of grey stirrup leg warmers, bunched around his calves. He’s—

You draw a sharp inhale and refocus on the LCD screen, the neckstrap suddenly uncomfortably heavy.

Satoru is a bit older than most of the other dancers you photograph but no more mature for it. Granted he’s gentler in his discipline, more experienced, and always less eager for the practice to be over. He liked the day to drag on and on, especially if someone was watching him.

People said he was arrogant. Maybe that was a little true and with good reason. But your lense saw through the veneer that Satoru wore. Session after session, through rehearsals and classes and auditions, you saw pride for his craft, and how deeply he loved imbuing that love into his juniors.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying so, but watching him dance felt transcendent. Whoever the pair, he made every pas de deux seem seamless, like two halves of the same entity coming together. Solo he was in a league of his own. Sometimes he danced as if he loved beyond the scope of his skin. Sometimes he danced as if the whole world had betrayed him.

“How’d I do this time?” you hear him ask in that very cavalier way that betrayed his interest immediately, becoming antsy in your prolonged silence. “Pretty good, right?”

Today you managed to shoot him demonstrating a particularly heartbreaking variation of a grand jeté. He reached the peak and fell so gracefully that you’d felt the whole room hold its breath. Another beep and the camera screen flickers to that very photo. Right leg stretched anterior, his left posterior to his body, evenly split into a horizon as he soared through the air. Rather than poise to mimic an elegant wingspan he had curved an arm into an arc over his face, almost as if in anguish, while the other draped behind him.

“Why ask if you already know?” you deflected, switching to the next photograph. “You definitely have a flair for the dramatic”.

“Maybe I want to hear it from your mouth,” you can hear the layered petulance behind his words. It makes you restless to think your praise could hold any significance to him. “Tense today, aren’t we? You should do some barre exercises with me. Loosen you up a little,” he continues, clicking his tongue. “I could even teach you some steps”.

You snort lightly, “That’s a ridiculous idea”.

“I don’t think so,” Satoru disagrees, a contemplative tone to his voice. Intensity returns to his gaze as it roams over your form. “You’re the only person in the company I haven’t danced with yet. Can you blame me?”

“It wouldn’t be dancing, Satoru. You know I can’t dance,” you insist, or so you think, the weak response barely audible over the heartbeat flooding your ears. “I’d look like a fucked up marionette”.

A hand crosses your line of sight. You hadn’t even noticed his approach. Satoru plucks the camera from your slackened grasp and slips the neckstrap over your head in one swift movement. “Then let me pull your strings,” he teases, proffering his open palm. Your throat grows dry.

“That was awful,” you tell him, clutching to whatever dignity you have left. Then you take it. Long fingers enclose over your knuckles and he smiles.

Sometimes when you want something you’ll take it in whatever manner the universe is willing to give it.

“Ha. Worked though”.

As mercy would have it, Satoru guides you as he would a beginner. You’ve lived and worked amongst dancers for years. Your mind is familiar with the lifestyle, the lingo and the routine, but your muscles are not. “Another rep. Heels together with your toes turned out—that’s it, bend slightly,” your pulse rockets at the light touch to your hip, firm yet gentle in encouraging you to bend. The room is much hotter than you recall. “Place one foot in front of you. Point. Now sweep it around to the back in a C-shape,” warmth lingers where his fingertips had been as he steps back. “Point your feet,” he says, his lips suddenly close to your ear.

“What—?”

“As you circle,” Satoru repeats. “Point your feet.” You exhale and repeat. “Hm. Good at taking instructions, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to kill you,” comes your shaky response, already feeling clammy. It doesn’t escape you that he still hasn’t put a shirt on. Your inner thigh muscles are burning. Satoru laughs and the irritation ebbs away because he sounds happy. Giddy, even.

“This one will open your hips nicely,” Satoru finds your waist again and pivots you to face the barre. His body heat seeps through your t-shirt where he’s pressed against your back. Hands slide beneath your arms and down to your wrists, delicately placing them atop the barre. “Keep taking deep breaths for me. Bend your knees—hold,” the ache forces your eyes shut for the five seconds he keeps you inert, plunged into fleeting darkness with just his low, honeyed voice to guide you.

This really was a terrible idea.

“Rise to plié,” Satoru murmurs. “Up into demi-pointe. There you are, now hold again”.

Shadows pool into the studio space as the evening draws on. You’re rendered a sticky mess, and not in the manner you’d have liked. Wondrously, and despite the soreness that will no doubt wear in tomorrow, you had begun to feel you were working with your body and not against it.

Satoru had barely broken a sweat. You take comfort in the splotchy flush covering his cheeks and how his chest rises and falls, both signs of exertion. Equally as distracting. “You’re almost a natural,” he says, running a hand through his silky white hair.

Unsteady on your feet, you roll your eyes skyward while the burning in your lungs dwindles. “Sure. We’ll be onto our own pas de deux in no time,” you joke offhandedly. But Satoru’s expression wanes into something like longing in your periphery. Fondness, and then to amusement.

“Maybe not. Your pointe needs work,” he says.

“Well excuse me, big shot. I’m not even wearing the right shoes—”

“Want to try some lifts?”

A stone of dread drops into your stomach. The barre digs into your lower back as you lean against the wall, “We do some—some routine warmups and you think I’m ready for partnered lifts?!”

Satoru’s voice remains steady but his lips are starting to purse as he mirrors your posture, “I can take your weight”.

You didn’t doubt it. Satoru’s ability appeared to defy physics all together and that translated well with his counterparts too, whoever they may be. You’ve seen him lift people of every different shape and weight. Each one would become weightless in his embrace.

“No. No lifts,” you tell him, trying for a cadence that inspired authority. Satoru arched his brow and you got the sense that to him you were akin to a small disgruntled cat. Whether it’s the fatigue that lowers your inhibitions or plain pettiness, you hear yourself say, “I think you just want an excuse to touch me more”.

A pulse of magnetised desire rippled through the atmosphere. You don’t miss the way his breathing hitched, or how the hand absently rubbing the back of his neck stilled only for a moment before falling to his hip. Satoru swallows. Your eyes follow how his thumb strums the waistband of his tights—tights that leave very little to the imagination.

Anticipation prickles through your belly when he takes a step forward, then another, until his nose bumps your own. “You’re not supposed to say the quiet part out loud,” he murmurs, a little breathless. It ghosts across your lips. There’s trepidation in his gaze, searching your expression for rejection or discomfort, neither of which he will find.

You are reminded again that for all his apparent confidence and talent, Gojo Satoru was still very much human.

Your hands lingered in the narrow space between your bodies. Restlessly clenching, uncurling. Not knowing where to put them. The bare skin of his abdomen brushes your knuckles. “Satoru,” you begin.

He hums, palms coming to rest on your hips. He leans into you, emboldened by the invocation of his name, and echoes yours back.

“Did you seriously…” your thoughts drift as he dips lower, lingering. The blood rushes to your head. You could easily tip your head, align your mouths, and bring him into a kiss. Somehow the simplicity of that makes this whole charade even more laughable. “Don’t tell me you made me do a workout instead of just asking me on a date like a normal person”.

The response registers visibly on his face. He blinks, delicate pale lashes fanning over his cheeks, and in the next breath he’s lighting up, eyes first, glittering urainian blue. “That was hardly a workout,” he says, warmth bleeding into his voice. “It was a warmup”.

“Warmup my ass”.

“Can, if you want”.

Laughing, you cradle his jaw and say, “Stop being annoying and kiss me”.

Satoru’s hands have slipped beneath your shirt. He squeezes, smiles at the feel of soft flesh yielding under his thumbs, “Alright”.

Always has to have the last word, you think amusedly. Satoru pressed impossibly close. The barre has since become numb where it prods at your back. Your lips part as he tilts and your mouths brush, want knotted deep in your belly. It is slow at first, hesitant. But every movement of Satoru’s lips turns into sweet affirmation. Quick, then long, then greedy.

You wrap your arms around his neck and feel him shudder as you suck gently at his plush bottom lip. He paws at you with more fervour, languidly licking into your mouth. Soft wet sounds reach your ears and a contented hum reverberates through your skin that you can’t help returning. You feel his lips stretch thin into a smirk.

When you eventually part for breath your chest is pounding. He watches you closely. Half lidded and entirely too pleased. Something about the certainty and satisfaction stunned you then. Coloured the world around you in roseate. “You really do like me, don’t you?”

Satoru doesn’t falter. Quiet and deeply amused, he replies, “What gave it away? The constant pestering, the always staying behind after hours, the never wearing a shirt, the—?”

“Okay, okay. I get it,” you sighed, smoothing your palms down his bare chest simply because you can. “…I like you too, you know”.

“Yeah?”

You hummed. “What gave it away? The constant pestering?” you kissing the corner of his mouth, “The always staying after hours?” and then his cheek.

Satoru turns quickly to chase as you recline, nipping at your mouth. “Point taken,” he rumbles, pinching at the fabric of your shirt and lightly tugging it. “Pattern dictates this should go, next”.

“You know we need to lock up. If I let you start we’ll never stop,” you laughed, wriggling out from his embrace. The studio will be shrouded in complete darkness soon, and now you both need to shower. Satoru reluctantly lets you go, trailing after you as you collect your camera and pass it between your hands.

The screen flickers on, back to that incredible grand jeté. Satoru hooks his chin over your shoulder. “You really do photograph beautifully,” you think aloud. His jaw shifts and you can tell he’s smiling. “What were you thinking about, when you jumped?”

Satoru sniffed, not even pretending to think of something profound. “Mochi stuffed with whipped cream and zunda”.

You sigh fondly, eyes falling closed. Beautiful, talented, annoying man indeed.

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

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Go Heavy on the Red

ALASTOR x (F) READER

Summary: SOULMATE AU. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. Till you died and met him

Warnings: Mentions of death, drunk driving, dugs, alcohol, and sex. Rating: PG-13

For the lovely @anon-of-the-void

Requests are OPEN

In the chaotic realm of Hell, where demons and lost souls roamed endlessly, there existed a peculiar demon named Alastor. With a penchant for mischief and a flair for the dramatic, he ruled over his domain with unmatched charisma and power. But beneath his imposing exterior lay a longing, a desire for something more profound than the endless cycle of torment and chaos that he so loved.

All his life, Alastor’s wrist had been adorned with perfect neat red cursive spelling out the words ‘Going heavy on the red, huh?’. Whoever you were, your handwriting was pristine, perfect for someone like him. Yet, despite this, Alastor never truly believed that he would ever find the soulmate behind the words inked upon him. His tattoo was in red…his soulmate was alive or not yet born. A strange phenomenon for a soulmate not to be born within one’s time but then again Alastor was a strange phenomenon in and of himself.

You were no different. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. ‘New to the whole being dead thing my dear?’ Your soulmate was dead, you always wondered how. You were born with the ink so black and murky that it looked like a void space. The handwriting was a fine print, definitely from a time long past. It looked as though it was printed by an old typewriter or someone who had an orderly and steady hand. Crisp and clean. Maybe your soulmate was like that too?

But fate is an even crueler mistress, and despite laying on the load of soulmates from different eras - your mortal thread was also fragile. As the years passed, your time on Earth drew to a close and when you closed your eyes for the last time after being slammed into by a drunk driver - you awoke not to pearly white gates but deep dark brimstone ones. Your bearings were slim and despite trying to orient yourself to your new environment, nothing was working.

Slowly working your way along the smoky streets, you peered upon an ad for a hotel - the Hazbin Hotel to be precise. The ad was clearly hand drawn with what seemed to be childish crayon but nonetheless the happy picture seemed to stand out amongst the dismal exterior. Following the directions, the streets you walked were perilous. Screaming, crying, the heavy smell of alcohol, sex, and sin filled your nose. Holding your stomach, you convinced yourself that expelling the contents of your stomach right before you approach a hotel didn’t seem like the best idea. You would at least wait to find a decent bathroom…if there was such a thing in this place. In fact, where were you anyway?

Soon, you came to gaze upon an older structure with a giant vacancy sign. Entering the Hotel, you observed your surroundings. A…cat…stood at the bar with a…spider demon there too? A shorter hyperactive woman ran around with a knife…and were those walking eggs?!

“OH MY GOSH!! Hello~! Welcome to the Hotel, my name is Charlie!” Without warning a younger woman with blonde hair and a red suit came up and shook your hand furiously. Dazed and confused, you shook back slowly.

“Oh, hello.”

“So wonderful sinner, would you like a room?”

“Wait, um sinner? I..I am not a sinner.”

“But you are—oh. OH. I see. You’re new!”

“Umm..new to what exactly?”

“Oh, this…this is Hell. You…died?”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. You saw the headlights, he sped through the red light. Crash. Now..now you’re here. Not in your car where you were. But here. In Hell. Hell, the supposedly a fiery pit of destruction and seduction that held the most enigmatic and psychotic of characters.

“Well, let’s get you settled in! Come on, I want to introduce you to everyone!”

Grabbing your arm and dragging you around the Hotel, Charlie introduced you to everyone in an effort to get your bearings and settle down. Little did you know that from the shadows a figure lurked. Watching with glowing red eyes, Alastor peered and sized up this newcomer to the Hotel. Fresh meat was always a good idea and especially with all the changes going around, he felt a need to grasp onto some entertainment. Distract himself with unworthy souls who would fail here spectacularly.

His soulmate tattoo had turned black this morning and his mind began to reel with all the possibilities. Would his soulmate be in Heaven or in Hell like himself? Would fate be too cruel again and separate them not only across time but planes of death? Throughout the day, his wrist started to burn with a fiery pain. They were close…and as this newcomer approached the Hotel, his interest peaked. Maybe they knew something, he would find out sooner or later.

“Alastor, where are you? We have a new guest for you to meet! Oh, he may be a bit creepy but just don’t try and focus on that.”

With a flicker of shadow, Alastor appeared in front of you in all his 1930s red pinstripe radio glory. His voice was static with radio waves, he extended his hand to you.

“Going heavy on the red, huh?”

Static crackle. His grip tightened around your own as he heard your words. With an evil crackle he spoke with a smirk.

“New to the whole being dead thing my dear”

Alastor's grin widened as he reached out, grasping your hand and drawing closer to his wrist.

"Look closely, my dear," He started tracing the intricate patterns etched into their skin. "Do you see it?"

Your eyes widened in awe as you beheld the tattoos adorning their wrists, glowing softly amidst the darkness of Hell. "It... it's...," you trailed off, breath catching in your throat.

"Our soulmate tattoos," Alastor finished, his voice softening with an unexpected tenderness. "Fate's cruel joke on us my dear has come to an end."

For a moment, you were speechless, heart pounding with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "I... I never imagined..." you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.

But before you could speak further, Alastor locked his gaze with yours in an unspoken promise. Manipulation has its place and it was Alastor’s preferred tool.

"In this realm of chaos and despair, we may have found each other against all odds," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of Hell. "But together, my dear Y/N, we shall defy fate itself."

And as they stood there, their souls intertwined in a bond that transcended the boundaries of Hell, you knew that they had found not only their salvation, but also your truest companion amidst the darkness. Alastor knew that he had found his only weakness, the tinge of his dark black heart beating once again. Feelings he knew were real despite his aversion to such moments. Maybe hiding and indulging in this one weakness wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #answered #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #vizziepop #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #radio killed the video star #request #alastor x reader #alastor soulmates #soulmates #soulmate au #fic idea #one shot #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul #alastor imagine #alastor fluff

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dragon-spaghetti · 1 year

Text

More doodles!!

#drag's art #rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt disaster twins #flair for dramatics au #the twins get along Sometimes I swear lmfao #i love drawing FFD Leo so much omg

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asumofwords · 10 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Well hello there my babies, hehe here is the little mini series I have begun for a modern!Aemond roommate AU. I'm super excited to explore this side of things as I have mostly been putting my focus into SFA. Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Hehe, slowish burn too <3 Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Christmas Beetle

The key scratched against the metal of the lock, your hand turning it as you opened the door to your flat, the smell of cooking curling around you as you stepped inside. From the kitchen you could hear your roommate Helaena humming to the music that played out of your speaker.

“Hel!” You called out, dropping your keys into the dish by the door, toeing your shoes off as you moved inside the apartment.

“In here!” Helaena sang back.

You moved your way down the hall, dropping your bag on the dining room table as you moved towards the kitchen.

Helaena stood barefooted in a singlet and pair of matching underwear. Her long silver hair piled atop her head, held together by a large butterfly clip.

“Whatcha cooking, good looking?” You asked, walking up behind Helaena who reached out to turn down the speaker that was currently playing Lana Del Reys ‘West Coast’.

Helaena turned her head, small silver butterfly earrings dangling from her ears, “Bolognese!”

The room smelt of cooking onion and tomato, and you breathed in deeply as she reached forward to put in some cut up carrots and celery inside of the ceramic large pot.

“Yum. God I love you.” You sighed, leaning back against the counter as you watched her stir in the ingredients, “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She grinned, reaching forward for the salt, sprinkling it atop, “Who else would feed you if I didn’t?”

“Hey! I can cook.” You frowned.

Helaena laughed loudly, “Mi Goreng doesn’t count.”

“I’ll have you know I can cook more than that.” You crossed your arms around your chest as you kicked a foot out to hit her shin softly.

Helaena jumped back, “Don’t be mean to the chef or you won’t get anything.”

You bowed, arm out in a dramatic flair, “Apologies, Your Grace.”

“Cut it out.” She pouted, “How was work?”

Hopping up on the counter, you groaned, “Don’t get me started. Larys was on my ass the whole day. Remind me why I work there again?”

“Because you need the money, and I got you the job.”

“It wasn’t just you that got me the job.” You grunted, “I have a great resume.”

“Of course you do.”

Tossing your head back against the cabinets you looks at the cream ceiling, “Ugh, how do you deal with Larys at all? He’s such a fucking creep. I swear he is always looking at me with those beady little eyes. You know the only time he has ever been nice to me was when he complimented my new shoes.” You scrunched your nose up at the thought.

Your boss Larys Strong was a man who made your skin crawl. Lanky, with a crooked build, the brunette man always had a way of getting under your skin, and you could always feel his eyes on you when you worked in the office. He hovered around other workers, asking personal questions and prying into everyone else’s personal lives, and yet you knew next to nothing about the man. A complete energy vampire.

“I’m sure he’s not that bad. Mum hasn’t said anything about him and she works with him.” Helaena pointed out, bringing the spoon to her lips to try to sauce. She hummed loudly as she dipped it again, hand beneath it as she offered you a try.

You leant forward blowing on the spoon softly as steamed poured off of it, “Yeah, but your mum isn’t the most observant person, Hel.” You sucked the sauce into your mouth, eyes closing as you moaned loudly, “Oh my god. This is heaven. If you weren’t my best friend I would marry you.”

Helaena blushed and took the spoon back from you, swatting your thigh on the bench, “That ship has sailed.”

You laughed loudly at the memory, “How was I supposed to know you were hitting on me? You said I looked like a Christmas beetle.”

“Christmas beetles are beautiful.” Helaena said indignantly, “They have many different colours and shades, and in the sun they glow.”

“Don’t you go soft on me, Hely.” You teased, kicking your legs against the cabinet with a thunk, “Besides, you can’t butter me up with this home cooked meal no matter how good it is. I can’t believe you’re leaving me here alone.” You whined, throwing your head back, “And on break too!”

“Life is a cruel mistress.” She mocked you, “You won’t even notice I’m gone." A pale hand waved itself at you in the air in dismissal, "It’s only for the month, maybe even less than that. You know I have to go see Daeron, he’s been studying at Old Town all by himself, the poor thing.”

“Yeah well, not all of us can get into the prestigious Old Town University.” You huffed, “And I will notice you’re gone, who will cook me dinner?”

“I thought you said you could cook.”

“Hel, you wound me.” You grabbed the front of your shirt above your heart dramatically.

Helaena snorted, “Suck it up. Besides, my brother is going to sublet the room for the month so you won’t be alone.”

“Hel,” You whispered, head tilted in uncertainty, “Please don’t tell me Aegon is moving in. I love you, you know this, but your brother is a sex pest. Last time he came over he called me a Gazelle.”

“A Gazelle?”

“Said I have long legs.” You grimaced.

“Ugh. Gross. He is such a manwhore.” You hummed in agreement as Helaena scrunched her face up, mouth open in disgust, “But no, Aemond is going to sublet the room.”

“Hel, that isn’t any better. Aemond?” You began, leaning forward as you looked at her uneasily, “'Can’t pry a word out of the man', Aemond? 'Messy break up with his crazy ex', Aemond? Hel are you punishing me?”

“Be nice.” She slapped your arm, adding fresh basil into the pot that simmered gently, “Aemond is sweet once you get to know him. He’s just shy.”

“The last time I spoke to him, I asked him how his day was and he just hummed at me. He hummed.”

Helaena laughed.

“It’s not funny, Hel! Who the hell just hums like that?”

A small laugh floated through her nose, “Look, Aemond was the only one I could get to sublet the room in such short notice. Especially someone I trust. Plus, he needs to get away from Harrenhal and move back to Kings Landing. Alys has really done a number on him, and I think if he gets some time away from her he will see it’s better that way.”

“Can't you ask your mum to cover the rent? You’re not exactly scraping by.”

The Targaryens were richer than most, descended from ancient royalty, even owning an island called Dragonstone, a short boat ride away from shore, where a large fortress sat atop. Helaena would sometimes go for the summer to see her cousins, and had even taken you one year.

“I don’t want anything to do with the family money. When I moved out, I made a promise to myself that I would make it on my own.”

You sighed, smiling at your best friend. She really was one of a kind, willing to go above and beyond for her friends and not freeloading from her generational wealth like her brothers did, “You’re a good person, Hel. But you’re putting my head on the chopping block.”

“Mm.”

“Not you too.” You whined.

“Better get used to it," She grinned, enjoying your distress, "Aemond will be moving into my room at the end of the week. So I expect you to behave yourself while I’m away and be nice to him.”

You gasped in mock offence, “I’m always nice!”

Helaena gave you a pointed look.

“Okay, well fine. I’ll be on my best behaviour for you.” You hopped off the counter, and put a hand on your chest and one in the air, “Scouts honour.”

“You weren’t a scout.”

“Never too late.” You grinned.

Helaena scrunched her nose at you, “You’re so annoying. Go shower, you stink.”

“I do not!” You said indignantly, turning your head to your shoulder to smell yourself.

“Well, there’s too many chefs in the kitchen and I want to have an everything shower tonight.”

You opened your mouth in mock surprise as you looked at her, a soft gasp leaving your lips. You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at your best friend, “And who are you shaving for?” You wiggled your eyebrows at her.

Helaena blushed, “No one.”

“No.” You said in disbelief.

“Y/n-“

“Please tell me you’re not.”

Silence.

“Are you seeing Sara again?”

Helaena looked so sheepish as she went back to stirring the dinner, you moved to stand behind her, resting your head on her shin from behind as you watched her cook, “Hel, what are you hiding from me?”

“Go away, you big gnat.”

“I thought I was a Christmas beetle?”

“I’ve changed my mind. Plus you’re one to talk, I saw Cregan’s car out the front the other day as I left for work.” Helaena snipped, flustered and cheeks completely red. Her neck speckled with a blush that rose up from her chest.

“Glass houses. Besides, you can’t say the Starks aren’t scrummy.” You pinched her side and moved away from the kitchen, “I’m going to shower, and I’ll make sure to leave you some hot water so when Sara comes over tonight you’ll be all squeaky clean.” You teased.

“Shut it!”

The next morning you rose early to make yourself a cup of tea, you bumping into Sara on her way out of the house. The brunette was moving quickly out the door, hair knotted at the back of her head and lips blushed.

“Morning Sara.” You greeted her as she walked past you on the lounge, clearly not expecting to see you. You lifted your mug of tea up towards her in greeting and watched as her cheeks blushed a deeper red than the top she was wearing.

“Morning.” She responded, “Sorry, I’ve got an early class to get to.”

“Its Saturday.”

“Uh-” The Stark stuttered.

“And it’s break.”

“Oh, shut up." She smirked, "Tell my brother I said 'hi.'” Smile pulling downwards on her lips playfully.

You laughed softly in the quiet of the room, and bid her a goodbye.

Sara and Helaena had been on and off for longer than you had known Helaena, and was actually how you met Cregan. Sara had set it up after a night of drinking together, and Helaena had only encouraged you to ‘let your freak fly’.

Cregan was amazing. Tall, kind, smart and with a handsomeness that only Northerners had, with these dark brown eyes that you could get lost in.

But in saying that, you weren’t compatible in anything other than sex or casual friendship. You had been sleeping together for a few months when he wanted more, and you weren’t ready for that. And so you had ended the little tryst that you had, and parted on good terms. Amicable terms.

For a while, the two of you hadn’t spoken, letting Cregan have space from you to process what had happened, but eventually you had received a text to meet up for a coffee one day, and decided you were better off being friends.

Who fucked.

Occasionally.

Helaena exited her room shortly after, her silver hair messy and wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung to her mid thighs, a large centipede with a hat on the front.

“Good morning sleepy head.” You sang to her, watching as she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Why are you up so early?” She grumbled, clearly not having gotten much sleep.

“There’s an antique market down in the square and I thought we could go and get some trinkets.” You smiled, watching as her eyes came alight.

“Trinketville.” She spoke in a high pitched voice.

“Yup!”

Shuffling her feet towards you, she leant over the back of the couch, “When does it start?”

“Started around 7.” You grabbed your phone to look at the screen, “It’s only 8:40, so if you quickly get dressed I can drive us down and get us a park.”

“Yay!” Helaena chirped, spinning back into her room suddenly alive.

As she walked away you called out to her, “Saw Sara sneak out.”

“Huh?” Helaena yelled back.

“I saw Sara this morning!”

Helaena stuck her head out from the door, hiding her naked body behind its frame, cheeks tinged pink, “Please don’t tell me you said anything.” She winced.

“I just said good morning.” You said coyly, watching as Helaena sighed in exacerbation before going back into her room.

“You know,” You called out, standing to put your mug in the dishwasher, “You don’t have to hide her in your room. I don’t hide Cregan.”

Helaena stepped out wearing a pair of pale denim overalls, and a soft yellow shirt underneath, socks and doc martins in hand, “Yeah well, you haven’t dated Cregan.”

“I mean we kind of did.” You shrugged, leaning against the side of the couch as she sat at the small dining table to put her shoes and socks on.

“Fucking him on the couch doesn’t count as dating.”

It was your time to blush, “Close enough.”

Helaena snorted, lacing up her boots, “Aren’t you going to get dressed?” She eyed you up and down, one brow raised.

You looked down at yourself. You were in an old busted t-shirt which had far too many holes to make it physically sound, and beneath you wore some old track pants and slides.

“Whats wrong with what I’m wearing?” You asked, offence in your tone.

“What’s right with it?” Helaena grimaced, “Go get actually dressed you slob. What if there’s someone cute at the markets?”

“I will have no time for cuties as I will be too lost in the joys of finding the ultimate trinkets for my collection.” You sniffed, raising your chin in defiance.

“Borderline hoarding at this point.”

You gasped, “Hey! Says you Miss Insects.”

“Go get dressed,” Helaena insisted leaving no room for argument, “Then we will head out. Do you think they’ll have coffee?”

You laughed, “Yeah, there should be a truck.”

When you were dressed and ready, you drove yourself and Helaena down to the markets, already full of people and bursting with life.

Many people brought their dogs with them and to your delight, an old man people called Maester Orwyle was seen walking his white Persian cat inside of a pram. The cat sat with her paws crossed in front of her as she watched everyone walking past, the occasional hiss given to the dogs that passed her or children who got too close.

Helaena giggled loudly as you both passed it, moving to look at another antique jewellery stand, Helaena’s eyes immediately spotting a small, gold, dragonfly pin. Its wings had emeralds on its tips and a larger one as its head.

She held the pin in her hand, uncertain if she should get it or not, the old man behind the table trying to sell it to her.

“It’s real gold, 14 karats. Real emeralds too. A pretty broach for a pretty girl.”

Helaena smiled politely though you knew she wished to move away.

“Come on Hel, when will you ever find something like that again?” You encouraged her. Her lip was caught between her teeth as she thought.

Looking up at the greying man behind the table, you asked for the price, “How much?”

“$70.” The man replied.

Helaena moved to put the pin back down, “It’s too expensive.” She said quietly.

“Nonsense.” You whispered back. “I’ll give you forty for it.” You looked at the man.

“Forty is too low. I’ll do sixty.”

“Fifty.” You counted.

“Y/n.” Helaena hissed.

The old man hummed as he look at the two of you before he nodded, “Fifty then.”

You looked at Helaena triumphantly and watched as she sheepishly gave the man the money, clutching the pin in her hand as the two of you walked away.

“I hate when you do that. It's so embarrassing. You’re like my grandpa.”

“Did you just compare me to Otto?” You grimaced, remembering your interactions with the stiff older man. He was rather cold, and barely spoke a word to you unless to correct you, but he would brighten up when speaking to Helaena considerably.

“You leave him alone, he’s old.”

You hummed in response.

“You’ll get along with Aemond just fine if you keep that up.” Helaena teased and you stuck your tongue out at her, moving to look at some old books.

You picked up an old heavy leather book, which looked to have been buried in dust. You opened the cover gently and looked at the front page. Your eyes widened.

“Helaena!” You hissed, grabbing her to your side as you looked down at the book in your hand, “This is a First Edition.” You quietly whispered.

“Looks like the worst edition.” She giggled and you elbowed her in the side.

“Seriously Hel, these are so hard to come across! It’s ‘The Lovers of Queen Nymeria’ too, this is like old old.” You explained, excitement racing through your veins, “These are seriously hard to get a hold of!”

“God, you and Aemond are the same. I swear my dad had that in his library.”

You snorted, “Yeah, well, not all of us come from royalty, Hel. I come from a long line of peasants, which I-“

“Oh, cut it out.” She griped.

You let yourself laugh, holding the book in your hands in wonder, “They’re probably asking for hundreds for this. God, I can’t believe I’m even able to touch it right now!”

Helaena looked up at the young man who had the stall, “Excuse me, could you please tell us the price of this book?”

“Hel, it’ll be way out of my price range.” You sighed quietly.

The man turned and came over, looking at the book in your hands, “I’ll give it to you for $20.” He said with disinterest, looking at the worn cover.

“$20?!” You said in disbelief, shock crawling through you.

“We’ll take it!” Helaena responded quickly, handing he man $20 from her small silver purse.

“Hel, I’m paying for it.”

“Nope!” She popped the ‘p’ as you moved away, holding the book in your hands in shock. “This is my gift to you, plus you saved me the money for the pin, aaaand you can take it as me buttering you up because mumboughtmeanearlierflight.” The last part of her sentance was speedily blurted as she turned to look at you, offering you a remorseful smile.

“You bitch.” You narrowed your eyes at her, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You walked side by side, looking at the rest of the stalls, finding some fun little things before the two of you decided to go home, exhausted from walking around in the hot sun for hours.

When you arrived back at the apartment, Helaena slumped onto the couch the two of you had found on the street years back. It was a light brown velvet, with dark wood detailing. An absolute classic.

The silver haired girl sighed, tugging her bag onto her lap as she begun to line up her buys of the day on the table.

You joined her, placing your book on the table followed by a small, vintage, golden mirror and a large candle holder for your room. Helaena had bought her pin, a small blue skirt with little green beetles on it, as well as a large framed Luna Moth.

You let your head drop to her shoulder, “I’m going to miss you.” You whined, tapping your head onto the bone of her shoulder.

“You big baby, I’ll be back in no time.”

“But you’re leaving me on breaaaak. What about all the hotties we were going to pick up at the bars?”

Helaena laughed loudly as she rested her head against the top of yours, “Plenty of time to do that when I get back.”

You grunted, “Don’t act like you didn’t tell me you are leaving earlier. You said end of the week.” You pulled away and looked at her with your eyes narrowed, “When are you leaving now?”

“Tomorrow.” Helaena sighed.

“Tomorrow?! What!”

Helaena began to fiddle with her hands in her lap, her pale fingers picking at the skin at her nails. You watched as Helaena became quiet, shut in, and a sudden wave of anxiety moved through you.

“Hel, what’s wrong? Has Sara done something?” You questioned, head dipping to try and catch her eyes.

“Dads sick.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at her, “Has he gotten worse?” You asked softly.

Helaena’s dad had been sick for a long time, when you had met her she was worried, but knew there was nothing that she could do. Her visits to her family home back then were frequent, but as time went on, her visits became less, and she had assured you that his team of carers and her mother could handle it.

“It’s not good.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” She gave you a sad smile, “It was going to happen one day or another. Mum wants us to go back to see them at the Keep, so I’m going to Daeron’s to get him and we will go together.”

“But what about Aemond? Will he be going with you?”

Helaena let out a quiet breath, “Dad doesn’t have the best relationship with Aem and Egg. Pretty sure my sister will be at the Keep with my nephews, and well,” She paused, and you knew why, “You know Aem doesn’t have a good relationship with them.”

You remembered the day Helaena had told you about Aemond’s fight with Lucerys when they were kids and the accident. You had felt terrible hearing the news, but now understood why tensions in the family were so strained. Not to mention that Helaena’s sister Rhaenyra, from his first marriage, was largely favoured over his other three children.

But from all accounts that Helaena had told you, Rhaenyra was a lovely woman, and incredibly kind to her.

You grabbed Helaena’s hand and held it, “Let me know if you need me to come, yeah? Or need anything of me. I mean anything. You need me, I’ll be there.”

Helaena gave you a gentle smile as she nodded, “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. Maybe you could come to the Keep and stay a week or something once I'm settled.”

“Will that hunky Criston be there?” You waggled your eyebrows at her.

Helaena's face morphed into disgust, “Ewww. I don’t see what you see in him.”

“What? He’s hot, plus him being your mums bodyguard makes it so much hotter.”

“He’s not her bodyguard.” Helaena argued.

“Sure, then he just follows her around like a lost puppy and is paid to look pretty. Anyhow, when is Aemond coming since you go tomorrow?” You rested your head back against her shoulder, fiddling with her hand in her lap as you wiggled her fingers with yours.

“He said he’d be driving his old chevy Vhagar in, so who knows how long that will take. If it doesn’t break down on the way.” Helaena snickered.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist:

@mrstargayen09 @iamavailablesstuff @malfoytargaryen @hogwarts1207 @diannnnsss

Bold is who I cannot tag

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writingforatwistedworld · 11 months

Note

Hi! If requests are still open, can I request for a Reader who like prince charming in manga or manhwa? Like the reader is such a gentleman(or gentlewoman), treat the TWST guy like a princess, and even when the TWST guys fall the reader just caught them and say "are you ok, princess?"or something similar? For self-aware!Au and Leona/Malleus/Vil if possible? Thank you! Please take time to rest and feel free to delete it if it broke the rule or you are not comfortable making it! 😊

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNING: Yandere themes, neglect, family problems, stalking, taking photos without consent, invasion of privacy, violence, unhealthy relationships

Leona Kingscholar/Vil Schoenheit/Malleus Draconia-Player is like prince charming

Imagine this: Leona tripping over air, a most heinous thing hiding in plain sight, and then suddenly something catches him

If it weren't for your face being so famous he would have thought you were a student from RSA

“Are you alright?” Yeah, I think he is. Other than the fact that he stares at you like the red dot of a laser pointer is on your forehead, he is fine

What he didn't know though was how everyone else in the hallway was just staring at the two of you. Could be the stars and flowers surrounding you two but what do I know?

If Leona wasn't such a loner then he would have started a fan club or something like that

But since he can't he is more on the “silent screeching teenager on the inside” trip

Like, my man is hiding behind corners, snapping pics, trying to smell the slightest bit of your perfume

Ok, maybe he is a bit more intense than an entire fan club usually is but he is just trying to figure out more about his prince char- *ahem* you

And we wouldn't be talking about Leona if there wouldn't be the tiniest bit of that, you know, manipulating others

Ruggie once more gets a chance to make others have “accidents” but if it would be too obvious why he orders him to do that then he can also take care of it himself

You know, roughing up a few students who came too close to you. That kind of stuff

But oh, how much he wishes that you would pay most of your attention on him

Leoan might not seem like it but all the years of neglect back home had made him crave it

So he gifts you a lot of things

From simple things for everyday use to luxurious accessories

But why won't you accept them? Do you dislike him that much? What else does he need to do? Tell him. Tell him!

Dramatic violin chorus, Vil falling backwards from the stairs, heels caught in the carpet, one last desperate look into the air before a chorus of opera singers screams in despair to add even more dramatic flair to the situation

And then, nothing. A soft cello plays a soft tune as arms close around his waist, stars sparkling in Vils eyes as his gaze falls upon his savior

Birds are singing and warm sunlight falls upon the duo... until the two Pomefiore students who carried a mirror start to move again making the reflecting light which fell on the two of you break away once more

Five meters away Epel just stares at you two with an expression that can only be described as “Ugh”

Rook stops the music which played in the background, the piece surprisingly supportive of the situation

As if the moment needed even the slightest bit more to seem like an abridged version of a Disney film you even asked Vil if he was alright

One second later and Epel asked himself what the heck Disney is

But congrats, you have now what Vil would call “a troublesome fan”

Oh no, Vil wouldn't buy merch of you or something like that. He has an even better collection

If you were to push his clothing in his closet to the side you would see its wooden back littered with photos of you

Some are a few selfies the two of you had snapped together (it was just a nice memory. He totally didn't mean to use it in any creepy means) and other photos you were not aware of

Some of them are taken disturbingly in private moments like when you were cooking and somewhere buried even deeper is even one when you were starting to change your clothing...

Vil also starts to hog all your time

No more eating lunch with a group of students you deemed your friends. Oh no, now it's Vil, Epel and ,if our local harassments of overgrown house cats has behaved well, even Rook

Although Vil doesn't trust Rook 100% when something is about you. The queen knows after all that the hunter has his own sights on you and is more than ready to snatch you up at any moment

Should you try to distance yourself though I recommend wearing long sleeves, otherwise the desperate clawing of nails that are way too sharp will rip your skin to shreds, a desperate fan of yours hanging just as desperate as the fairest Queen was on her beauty on your arm

Do you hear that too? What you don't? Did I imagine the wedding bells just now?

When Malleus fell from his broom, most ungraceful, he was surprised when you suddenly caught him (although this tiny bit of hight wouldn't be able to harm him)

Even after he reassured you that he was more than just alright you still insisted to bring him to the school nurse just to be sure and even then you still treated him like he was something easily broken

Is... Is this how normal people feel when someone takes care of them?

The poor school nurse was almost screeching in fear when Malleus suddenly made a sound akin to purring

The situation is kinda as if the prince who fought against Maleficent suddenly apologized after striking her, making sure that she got better and then proposing to her

Ok, maybe he imagined the last part but he is just a lovesick fire spewing lizard in human form. Let him have his fantasies!

Malleus isn't your ordinary Fae though. Oh no. You are courted by royalty here but given his rather... unhealthy interest in you I am not sure if you could consider this a win or a loss

Gold, rubies, diamonds and much, much more is at your disposal. Don't tell anybody. Otherwise there will be break-ins

At this point it's a normal occurrence to see a scene from those clichè romance novels acted out in the hallways of NRC

But since Malleus has “Fae-prince-who-can-end-your-life-with-the-snap-of-a-finger” privileges no one dares to say anything

Malleus wouldn't be a good dragon if he weren't even the lighter bit hoarding

Only that it isn't just “a bit” but rather “hoards all the time” when something concerns you

And suddenly eh invites you to visit the Valley of Thorns

“Visit” haha, funny

Have you heard? There are rumors of Briar Valley soon having a second future ruler. Huh? Who? I don't know? But aren't you close to Malleus? Maybe he knows something

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wildestdreamsblog · 11 months

Text

Latibule III

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: posting this on Father’s day because Mr. Min Yoongi is a daddy 😝

Masterlist, Latibule II

“The renowned Chief of Police, Min Yoongi, who had been missing for a month is now officially assumed to be dead. The Police Department announced on Friday that the memorial would be held a month from now,” the reporter announced with solemn voice as the news shifted to several official photographs of him in his uniform. Damn, he did look good, he thought.

“The whole country mourns the loss of the heroic man who never shied away from danger. He is indeed the loss of our country as thousands of citizens offered flowers and lighted candles in front of the Department,” the view shifted from the reporter to the video footage of the mourning citizens. The front of the Department was indeed filled with mourners, and Yoongi almost smiled. He really almost did if not for Jimin crying dramatically in the middle of the mourners, wearing his formal police uniform as though he was really dead. He thought that Jimin really had a flair for the dramatics. He was laying it thick on the acting, he noted, wailing hard enough to trigger the tears of the other mourners. It would be hilarious, and he would admit he almost laughed if not for the tall man that was caught by the camera for a second. He was standing on the far side of the mourners, unmoving as his eyes were trained on the makeshift memorial in front of the Police Department. He had his hands in his pockets, his face hidden by a black cap. He looked almost nonchalant had it not been for the tension in his broad shoulders.

Min Yoongi only saw him for a second. But one second was enough. He could recognized that man anywhere. One side of his lips lifted, his eyes glinting with something akin to wickedness. With nonchalant movement, he leaned back on the sofa, his legs spread out. In the darkness of the night, only the light from the television illuminated the evilness in his face.

So, he thought, his hyung knew of his death. Interesting.

You were a morning person. Really, you were. You didn’t open your eyes and frowned, unlike your housemate-turned-fake-fiancée, also known as your nuisance. You didn’t get up and decide to terrorize everyone with your dark energy, unlike well…him. You didn’t wake up one day and decided to glare at everyone until you had your coffee…far from the man you had unwillingly adopted.

Wasn’t he too old to be adopted for heaven’s sake, you thought.

You loved mornings, truly you did. You loved opening your eyes and seeing the lights seeping through the sheer curtains. You loved waking up to the sound of birds chirping as they rested on your window sill, unlike Suga who was doing his very best to shoo the birds away from the living room’s window with a heavy frown on his face. You loved mornings and how they represented another day, how they represented hope.

In fact, you loved morning so much that you were up and showering before the sun even shone. You knew he was the opposite of a morning person. But really, you couldn’t categorized him because he was not an afternoon or even an evening person, evidenced by the varying bored, angry, and annoyed expressions on his face. See, you knew he wasn’t a normal person. You knew he wasn’t a morning person.

And that was exactly why you let your guard down.

You were quietly humming to yourself as you stood in front of the shower, letting the water cascade down your body. Your fingers were brushing away the bubbles from your shampoo when the door of your small bathroom opened.

Your peace suddenly gone.

Birds suddenly stopped singing.

Happiness suddenly vanished as you opened your eyes and saw him standing there with his hand on the door knob, his eyes slowly roaming your exposed body appreciatively. It was as though he didn’t want to miss even an inch with the ways his eyes dragged down your body. And then slowly, that stupid smirk returned in his face and it was only then that you woke up from your stupor. He watched you as you scampered to reach for your towel hanging outside the shower stall without even offering to help you. You were huffing under your breath, cursing him with words you did not know you could say.

Suga leaned against the door still leisurely, his hand still resting on the doorknob, an image of a man with so much time in his hand.

“Who knew you’re hiding something pleasant underneath the drab of clothes you’re so fond of wearing?” he drawled as you did your absolute best to hide your damp body with the towel, your eyes throwing daggers at me.

“Don’t you know how to fucking knock?” you hissed at the relaxed man still looking at you.

“Probably not,” he started, “Can’t say my mother was around enough to teach me good manners, though. But I will say that this has been my best decision yet.”

“And it will be your worst if you don’t stop fucking looking!”

He pouted mockingly, “But I’m your fiancé. It’s my right to-“

And then you pulled the shower head, pointed it at him, and blasted him with water. You almost smiled when you heard him cursing as he retreated outside the bathroom. “F-FUCK! Fucking stop! I’m leaving!”

It took more time than you originally wanted to prepare yourself for work and to face the world. You marched out of your room with speed you didn’t know you possessed.

“Going somewhere, angel?” Suga drawled, smiling at you before sipping from his cup of coffee. As if he didn’t do anything wrong the first instance that he woke up today.

“Yes! Away from you!” You shouted before you slammed the door. You could hear him laughing all the way as you left. As if you could escape him if he didn’t let you, he thought.

“You know, I feel like I love you more than you love me. Honestly. There is a power imbalance in this relationship. You finally called me after two weeks that is so hurtful-“

“Seokjin was there,” Yoongi cut him off before dragging a deep puff of his cigarette. “Asshole didn’t even cry.”

Jimin chuckled, his voice holding an amused tone, “He cornered me and asked me where you were. Why would he cry when he suspected you’re still alive, hyung. You know how perceptive Jin hyung is.”

“Not even a little? Damn,” Yoongi replied. Of course, he could fool anyone in this world but not him. After all, he did grow up with him. “What did you say to him?”

“I told him that you were truly gone.”

“He didn’t believe, did he? You’re a terrible actor, Park Jimin.”

He halfheartedly listened to Jimin as he dramatically told him how he went to acting school for a while because of an assignment, how he was top of his class, and how he was depressed at work because Yoongi wasn’t around to make his bleak days brighter.

All that noise and all he could think about was where the fuck you were. Yoongi raised his brow, his eyes shifting for the nth time on the road. It was already dark and you were not yet home. He didn’t know why he hated that, or why his attention was focused on the road instead of the information Jimin was now giving about the fucking traitor who would soon walked down with him to hell.

“-maimed him until he broke down and told me that their boss is also- are you ready for this, hyung? Are you ready for this?- a police officer, too. Looks like somebody’s idolizing you too much,” Jimin reported over the phone, his voice hinting an excitement at having to torture and extract information from the man. Yoongi straightened when he finally saw you walking on the dark road.

Ah, finally, he thought. You were home. He ended the call without saying goodbye to Jimin before he he put off his cigarette. He unconsciously smiled before walking to you. You looked tired, your eyes focused on your steps when you bumped on something that clearly wasn’t supposed to be there.

You were rubbing your forehead before looking up at the wall slash chest of the road hazard, also fondly called as Suga. He looked down at you with an amused gaze.

“You’re late, angel. Where have you been?”

You squinted at him. “Work. What about you? What are you doing out here, Suga? Were you waiting for me? Hmm?” You stepped closer to him as you bombed him with questions.

He stepped back, his cheeks warming up quickly before showing you his bottle. “N-no! I’m out to throw trash! Don’t be assuming-“

You glanced at the bottle with an unimpressed look on your face. “That’s an unopened bottle, sir.”

He blinked rapidly before unscrewing the cover of the water bottle and chugging the contents down as though to prove a point. You raised your eyebrows at him before shoving him the paper bag you were holding.

“What’s this?”

“A phone, asshole. It’s not brand new, but you do need a phone,” you stated casually, walking ahead of him to your house. You wouldn’t tell him that you were worried about him while you were out and working. Not even if a gun was pointed at you. Nope. He had enough ego to last twelve lifetimes. He didn’t need to know.

You missed the completely surprised look on his face. Or the fact that he was looking down at the old model of the phone in his hand with something akin to a confused awe. He knew you didn’t have a lot… and yet you chose to spend what little money you had to buy him this. Meanwhile, in his pocket was the cellphone he stole from your neighbor today.

He sighed. Guess he had to return it to your neighbor tonight.

You should be careful, he thought. He was starting to see you as something other than a means to an end.

Latibule IV

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