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#followed closely by trials and tribulations
jawsofbalmung · 2 years
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my final (detailed) thoughts on the two most controversial games in the aa series, now that im done with them (contains spoilers):
dual destinies
overview: dd is one of those games that is decently fun, but not really that good. you can definitely see the difference in the writing style, and while i think all ace attorney games are good, and i did enjoy playing it, this one is by far the worst one in the whole series. i love simon though, prosecutors are always perfect.
my biases: i had to play dd on a very slow emulator which ran at 30-50% speed the ENTIRE game (slower on trials) so this game, especially monstrous turnabout, took me absolute AGES to finish. also i was... a little spoiled about fulbright, but not that much, honestly.
turnabout countdown: as far as first cases go, this one is fairly alright, but overall just kinda eh. its a bad mix of both predictable and confusing, but it's actually kinda funny in spots and not too egregiously horrible. 3.5/10
monstrous turnabout: i have a personal vendetta against this case. it took me two whole weeks to finish, when a case usually takes me two to five days on average with my pace. the actual content of the case was negligable, i liked the tenma family as characters, but the end result was very predictable (the fact that we were shown the killer in the beginning animation is inexcusable in my opinion). i could blame the length of the case on just the shitty emulator, but the fact is monstrous turnabout took me way longer than any of the other cases in this same game on the same emulator, and i can only blame its penchant for endlessly dragging out every single point, and throwing in many compounding twists when they're really unneeded and the case would be a lot better if it was simpler. they tried to make up for you knowing the killer right away by making it impossible to predict anything else, but it ended up just making the whole case frustrating and obnoxiously long. 2/10
turnabout academy: this is probably one of my favorite cases in the two games. its twists are a lot more satisfying and understandable than monstrous turnabout, and the character value of this case is very high. i love hugh robin and juniper, and i like how their friendship ties so deeply and intrinsically into the mystery of the case. a little cheesy, and as is expected with dd, not the best writing ive seen in ace attorney, but overall a pretty good case, and has probably the funniest killer breakdown. also klavier cameo is very much appreciated. 6.5/10
cosmic turnabout: i feel like there's not really much to this case, since it mostly serves as a bridge into turnabout for tomorrow, so they didn't put a lot of love into writing the episode itself, but honestly i think that's okay, cosmic turnabout does its job well, and i like how it takes the time to introduce important characters and concepts without stuffing too much into turnabout for tomorrow. as for the case itself, its honestly so hard to separate it out, and i feel like it was pretty short compared to the other episodes. 5/10
spirit of justice
turnabout for tomorrow: probably the most controversial case out of the two games in terms of fan opinions, but i frankly love this case. it's engaging, it's high stakes, it's got all the punch and intrigue that a final case should have, and on its own it's definitely one of the best. unfortunately, i wish the fulbright reveal was foreshadowed even a little bit. a mutual of mine said that since they were spoiled about fulbright being evil, they enjoyed turnabout for tomorrow a lot, but someone who went into it blind would probably find it confusing and out of left field, and i have to agree with that. it's definitely a case you want to spoil yourself just a little bit for it to be satisfying as you figure out the rest, because dual destinies seems to be allergic to Actual foreshadowing, and seems to be made up along the way. im also probably pretty biased in a weird way because ive seen a lot of fan content and meta about turnabout for tomorrow that makes it Better and Cooler and Make More Sense in a way that it certainly is not in canon, so that makes me both love it more for what fans have extrapolated out of it, and simultaneously resent that it didn't live up to its full potential. 8/10
turnabout reclaimed: this case sure was.... dual destinies. turnabout reclaimed is one of those cases that gets a lot of publicity in the fandom just for being absurd, but is actually not one of the good ones if im being honest. the twists fall flat, it drags on a bit too long, and it's honestly pretty forgettable. it wasn't awful to play, i certainly had some fun with it in spots, and it was nice to go back and play it after i finished spirit of justice mostly just to see simon again, but overall it's a very mid case, and im not too stoked about how they represented marlon rimes either tbh. 3/10
overall (averaged) score for dual destinies: 4.5/10
overview: everyone seems to hate spirit of justice and i don't know why. honestly, soj is way up there in my list of favorite ace attorney games ever. it feels more based in the feeling of the original trilogy, i love the way all the existing characters are written, and love the introductions of the new ones. nothing wrong with soj in my book, especially once i figured out that the portrayal of khura'in isnt nearly as racist as initially expected. the divination seances are a very fun mechanic that had a lot of potential beyond how they used them, and i would have liked to be able to do them every case if you ask me.
my biases: i am in love with nahyuta to a worrying degree, and dhurke is one of my favorite characters as well. the character value, which is what i automatically focus on the most, is very high in this game, so while im trying to rank these cases by how well-written they are, i can't help but adore spirit of justice for its character work. i also had a few spoilers, but nothing too strongly story-based.
foreign turnabout: once again, a first case is a first case, and foreign turnabout does its job in that respect. it establishes khura'in well, and helps lead into the complex opinion of it that you're eventually supposed to form throughout the game, but i do have to say it starts in a pretty deceptively xenophobic place in this case. kind of an underwhelming case, but ahlbi is adorable and it's certainly a fun start to throw phoenix into a new place out of the blue, and again it does its job as a first case satisfactorily. 4/10
magical turnabout: this case was fun! i like how the second case, while not connected to the overarching plotline, still had the spirit of the rest of the game imbued in it, and while i do think ace attorney shouldn't rely on the Twin Twist as much as they already do, they seem to handle it pretty well and it often makes sense when they slip it in. many funny moments, high stakes, good twists, fits in well with the game, and i love that we get to see trucy as a defendant, because it felt like a long time coming on that. 6.5/10
rite of turnabout: this case is more emotionally hard hitting than the final case of this game, if you ask me. it's juicy, it's strongly tied to the plot of the game, all the twists make so much sense and everything ties together so well, and it comes to a supremely satisfying end, which keeps hopes high for the last two cases. intrigue and immersion are high in this case, i love love love the introduction of rayfa as a weird little girl investigative assistant, and the revisualization sequence in this case is one of the only ones out of the two games where it exists that actually surprised me, and felt both satisfying and exciting at the same time. i haven't gotten a lot of those yelling "OH!!!!" as the pieces suddenly slide together moments since the original trilogy, so this case has to go down as one of the best ones in my book. 8.5/10
turnabout storyteller: y'all, i know this is a filler case, but god damn is it good!! it's enjoyable as hell, the perfect amount of challenging for me, a nice bitesize length that a filler case should be, not too predictable or too random (though i will admit i was spoiled about geiru because of the iconic tumblr posts about her whoops), and i got to see simon again, so i'm very happy with it! plus, the only realistic and respectable portrayal of DID i have ever seen, especially in murder mystery media! i could say so much about this case, and i already have on this blog before, but i do adore it. it's one of my faves tbh, especially for a very non-plot relevant case. 9/10
turnabout revolution (the name of this case still makes me laugh): learning that this was the longest case in the whole series, tied at 12 hours with rise from the ashes, came as no surprise. this is an absolute GIANT of a case. i think it's fun and fresh to split it up between two related trials in two different places the way they did, but i have to say i had a lot of expectations that went unfulfilled. the civil case and its investigation were very fun to do, especially how it seemed to bleed into more of a story-based visual novel format for a while, but i feel like they missed the opportunity to show us everything from phoenix's point of view as well. i adore dhurke, i love how he interacts with apollo and nahyuta, i love slowly parceling out the reveal of his death in a way i haven't really seen in aa yet, i think this case is very carefully and lovingly written and takes its time to stop fucking around and deliver the real meat of this game. unfortunately, i think the very end seemed kind of rushed and flat, and the characterizations of ga'ran and amara needed more work and at times were confusing or annoying. whereas dual destinies was a kinda underwhelming game with a fantastic ending (had it been foreshadowed more), spirit of justice was a fantastic game with a kinda underwhelming ending (that was properly foreshadowed, just not well excuted). but i don't think all of turnabout revolution suffers because of the very end of it, i think its a phenomenal case that brings the spirit of the old games along with the new ideas of the modern ones, and for the most part caps off the game in a way that makes sense with all the other information in all the other cases and closes it out as a very good game. 7.5/10
turnabout time traveler: compared to the other dlc case, this case is a lot more fun and engaging, though it doesn't have the gimmick that everyone talks about like turnabout reclaimed does. the killer is a little predictable right away from the first investigation, but i think the path to get there is fun anyway, and it's a pretty solid aa case with good characters and interesting twists, miles is there, and pierce nichody is hot as fuck, so i'd say it was a pretty good case! 6/10
overall (averaged) score for spirit of justice: 7/10
conclusion: i see a lot of hate and a lot of love for both these games, and while i definitely don't hate either of them, because i do love all aa games, i see where the animosity for dual destinies comes from and can somewhat agree. i think both have their merits, spirit of justice moreso than dual destinies, and their shortcomings. i love all the new characters though and always will, i adore how the waa is expanding and how phoenix interacts with new characters and old, and i think these two games do have a proper home in the aa series and in my heart <3
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d4rkpluto · 13 days
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ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴛʀᴏɢʀᴀᴅᴇ
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thank you for the 10,000+ followers! a game with no exchange will be released:)
now that i've written and understand planets in retrograde thoroughly they will be included in chart readings for free.
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THE SUN AND THE MOON CANNOT BE IN RX.
MERCURY IN RX
♇ having mercury in rx makes someone think more often, especially over the most pettiest things they think is big. they're very anxious people, and since it is in retrograde it could be implied that they're "wired differently" they think more out of the box, and even speak different, how they speak and write could be very distinct.
♇ mercury in retrograde could give someone inactive relatives, or cousins and siblings they're not close to. and since they're people who doubt themselves a lot, they could stall themselves from the path they're supposed to take, being their own obstacles. they could also be people who take some time to take in/process information.
♇ as i said they're people who hold themselves back a lot, this could link to their childhood, might've had people speak over them and silence them when they were younger.
VENUS IN RX
♇ people who have venus in retrograde might focus on love too much, and they could be people who have a struggling relationship with women. sisters, women who are their cousins and women who are their friends.
♇ they could also be very secretive people, they have a hard time opening up, which could make them be deemed as cold. they have a hard time giving and receiving affection.
♇ they could be bad at handling money, and might think everyone is out to get them. they could find it hard to love themselves, having venus in rx, is the peak of the "tortured poet".
MARS IN RX
♇ those who have mars in retrograde could have a hard time getting along with men, or even with the opposite sex. to have mars in rx could mean you could be considered as someone who i very intense. can a hard time expressing your sexuality and aiming for your goals.
♇ instead of learning life lessons quick, they are normally stubborn people and barely listen to advice given to them by trusted people. could be people who are too hesitant, say and do things at the wrong time and place.
♇ people with mars in retrograde might've gone through sexual trauma, could be scared to be intimate with other people. they're people who hate authority or people trying to have dominance over them. the type of people to not listen to the rules and break them.
JUPITER IN RX
♇ people who have jupiter in rx are the definition of "thinking out of the box", they're people who do have moments that question their faith and some of these people tend to have a God Complex.
♇ sometimes they feel like they're the unluckiest person in the world, might feel like they wont be able to travel the world like they want to. could also have long cycles of depression.
♇ having jupiter in retrograde can mean they're someone who marches to the beat of their own drum, they can be very detail-oriented people, which sometimes mean they feel like they can judge anyone and think of themselves to be flawless. jupiter in rx people are the type of people who want everything in their future to be perfect also, without life's trials and tribulations. can be unrealistic.
SATURN IN RX
♇ as it is told, saturn in retrograde brings a father that wasnt in the person's life, the person who has the saturn in rx can make someone feel like they're being punished by life all the time.
♇ this could also mean they might find it hard to express themselves emotionally, could be due to their childhood. they go through many trials and tribulations, makes them depressive, but in the end they become really wise.
♇ they doubt themselves a lot, could have trouble balancing themselves, and their masculinity, could be too domineering.
URANUS IN RX
♇ people with uranus in rx do not like change, they're likely insecure, [not all are going to be due to different commodities in a chart], but these are usually people who think they are not going to succeed in life.
♇ they sometimes feel like they're in control of nothing which pushes them into their need of controlling everything. they're quick-thinkers but still over-thinkers. they feel like they can never feel nice in a platonic or romantic connection.
♇ it leads them into being paranoid and chaotic. they might also put themselves in a box to make things easier, don't know they're limiting their potential when doing that, they're so much more and need to understand it.
NEPTUNE IN RX
♇ to have neptune in rx could make the kin be very delusional, might find it hard to separate idealistic views with reality. definitely reminds me of alice in wonderland. they're very spiritual people but can over-whelm people by adding their faith into everything.
♇ could be really good at manifesting; trust issues but sometimes are stubborn from learning their mistakes. can be deemed as very dreamy and compassionate.
♇ they could have this feeling of needing to save everyone. their trials and tribulations are a creative outlet for them, another indicator of being the tortured poet. [but the tiring and damaging things they go through are usually expressed through their art, which includes writing, story-telling, writing music, painting etc].
PLUTO IN RX
♇ i do get surprised when i come across these in a natal chart reading, but, pluto in rx folks definitely do hate constraint, they dislike authority and feeling like they're being controlled, which could push them into trying to control other people.
♇ could be escapists through drug and sex, they could also find it hard to accept their dark-self. easily infatuated people, people can get easily obsessed with them as they can get with other people.
♇ good money makers, could manipulate others with materialism, though, they might not be confrontational, could feel easily intimidated. sometimes could never see the potential in themselves can be their own obstacle.
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masterlist
pluto
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sungbeam · 3 months
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𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬
jeong yunho x gn!reader
1.1k words, friends 2 friends who cuddle ?, one bed trope, fluff, humor, like two swear words cuz who am i without cursing, snuggling, consequences of yunho being Tall (implied that reader is shorter than yunho)
a/n: im sorry that this kinda sucks ass but yeah,, one bed trope :')
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“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I'm going to hate this,” Jeong Yunho swore as his head poked up into the attic space, eyes wide in horror.
When the inn owners said that the attic was hardly an attic, they unfortunately were not exaggerating. It was close to a crawl space, with just enough room for you to stand up straight, and outfitted with an extra long twin bed, nightstand and lamp, a pillow, and two large sherpa wool blankets. The bed was fitted beneath the slope of the roof because the entire space wasn't even large enough to put the bed in the middle.
You were starting to sweat, and considering there wasn't even heating up here, you raced to calm your nerves. “It'll be fine,” you said with a small, anxious laugh.
Yunho moved his terrified eyes up to you. “Respectfully? I'm gonna go sleep in the storm.”
When he moved to descend the ladder, you slid on your knees to grab hold of his wrist. “Come on, big guy. It's one night.”
“Yn, what if I said I was claustrophobic, huh?” He whined, but reluctantly followed you all the way up the ladder and into the attic. He straightened—big mistake. You heard the loud thump as his head met the roof, and grimaced. “Oooow!”
You hissed and reached over to gently rub the place that began to smart when he leaned down. “Are you okay?”
“No,” he whimpered. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”
Around ten minutes later, after many trials and tribulations and head bonks, you and Yunho somehow transferred your duffle bags up the ladder and into your glorified crawl space. They took up the space just beside the ladder and at the foot of the bed, and as you stared at said twin bed, you wondered if Yunho's legs would even fit on it.
Most likely not.
In fact, you were certain that two people couldn't even fit on the bed unless they were either on top of each other or packed together like sardines.
You reminded yourself that it was only going to be one night. This was what the two of you got for leaving five hours after everyone else, just to get caught in tonight's awful storm and stuck with the only “room” available for miles. In retrospect, it was your fault. Yunho had been generous enough in offering to stay behind with you until you finished your last exam.
“You can have the bed,” you told him as you were both crouched by your bags to grab clothes to sleep in. Despite your realization about your counterpart's long limbs and the bed's shortcomings, you wanted to extend an offer of chivalry.
Yunho twisted around and sent you an incredulous look. “What?”
“You drove us up here,” you replied with a shrug. You swiftly draped your sleep clothes over one arm and gathered your bag of toiletries in the other. “And you waited for me to finish my exam and you're kinda being dealt the short end of the stick with this room.”
He sat down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, and though his face was still pulled into the same expression, he laughed. “Yn, I hate to break it to you, but I think you're gonna fit better on that bed than I will.”
You pursed your lips, gazing over at the narrow slot on the floor between the other sloping roof and the bed. That was the only other place someone could sleep in this room. “I don't want you to sleep on the floor though.”
“I know I was complaining, but don't worry about it,” he reassured as he turned back to dig through his duffle. He flicked his wrist blindly in your direction. “You can wash up first; I'll set everything up.”
Since he left little to no room for argument, you resolved to do as he suggested. There was a community washroom on the floor below that you made your way toward. As unfortunate as your accommodation was for the night, you were eager to head back up and go to sleep. Yours and Yunho's friends were all waiting at Seonghwa's cabin already, and perhaps it wasn't just exhaustion that made you antsy for this night to get a move on.
You and Yunho just needed to get through tonight. It would be fine.
When you returned to the attic crawl space, Yunho had everything set up as he said he would. He'd found an extra set of sheets from one of the downstairs closets and laid it on the ground by the bed, then rationed one of the blankets for himself and the other for you on the bed.
You let out a tired sigh and trudged over to the bed to grab the pillow from where it rested on the headboard. You set the pillow instead at the head of Yunho's sleeping situation, then balled up one of your jackets to use as your own pillow. Once satisfied, you climbed into bed, and you were out like a light.
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Everything was hazy as you emerged from deep sleep to confused half-consciousness. The room was descended into darkness, the sounds of light rain drumming steadily against the sloped rooftop above your head. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton—why had you suddenly woken up?
Then you heard it.
“Achoo.” Then another one. And another one.
Even half dead, your brain could put two and two together. You rolled over slightly to wave your arm over the side of the bed, hand flapping around until you bumped Yunho's shoulder. “Hey, Yunho.”
Another sneeze.
“Yun, get your butt up here.”
He grunted. “'m fine.”
“You're gonna get sick,” you grumbled with your face half squished against your jacket zipper. That was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. “Come up here, for fuck's sake.”
He made another noise, perhaps of acknowledgment, before you heard sounds of movement.
You kept your eyes half-lidded to keep as much light out as possible, and rolled over again. As he crawled onto his knees, and then his feet, you opened up your blanket to him so he could join you.
“Pillow,” he slurred—you whined when it hit you in the face. “Sorry.”
In a drowsy drugged tango, you swapped your jacket out for the pillow and Yunho wormed his way onto the bed beneath your blanket. You scooted as close to the wall as you could, but even then, Yunho was pressed flush against you. His arms came around your waist, his nose wedging itself between your neck and shoulder until he was comfortable.
“Your feet are cold,” you muttered. “Get them under the blanket.”
“Too tall.”
“Show off.”
He huffed out a puff of air against your neck like a laugh, then tucked his knees up slightly to fit under the blanket. Your legs were now tangled among his, your bodies curled tightly together. In the morning, you would rationalize it out as creating body heat to prevent either of you from getting sick.
When movement stopped, you voiced into the darkness, “Better?”
A content sigh. “Better.”
Maybe this accommodation wasn't so bad after all.
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ateez m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @kflixnet
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forcebewitht · 3 months
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Hey, since book 6 has been out in English for a while, could we possibly see an Overblot!Idia x reader? I really love the idea of him dramatically taking off the mask he has on to kiss the reader.
A Dance With Death (Overblot!Idia Shroud x MC!Reader)
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(Artwork by: Trashochist on Deviantart, X (Twitter), and Instagram)
(Possible TW: Slight yandere implications, stalking, manipulation, branding)
…The time had finally come. All of the trials and tribulations that you had gone through. The pain and strife that had overtaken you in just a few short days. It had all led up to this. The kidnapping of your beloved companion, Grim. The destruction of the Ramshackle dorm. The kidnapping of those who had Overblotted that you had helped through their trauma and developed bonds with overtime. The kidnapping of even the Headmaster of Night Raven College himself. The entirety of these events had thrown Night Raven College into turmoil.
And that was just what excited Idia even more. He had been watching curiously since the very first moment you had arrived at the institution. I mean- a student that didn’t have any magic? Yet arrived within a coffin here to a school of magical students? It was unheard of- and just that alone excited him. This excitement only grew once the Overblots started. His family and organization, S.T.Y.X., had been all over the research of Overblotting for years. But now, after all of this time, someone so close to him (in the school, that is-) was at the forefront of a handful of Overblots? It was far too perfect of a chance to pass up with that new Ramshackle prefect. The plan was sprung, footage and data gathered. He knew that they were going to come for their beloved friends- they were just so cool like that. Literally a superhero in disguise, an underdog that soon had risen to be one of the top dogs within the school. There was a lot of promise with them- no. Not a promise. This was the work of the Fates themselves, he believed. The Fates themselves had led someone to him. Someone powerful. Someone strong. Someone capable of protection. Someone…that could get him back what he had lost all of those years ago.
There they were. Descending down to the depths of Hell that he himself had wrought. They looked horrible- worn for wear, really. To think, these oh so powerful figures from Pomefiore, Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, and Octavinelle, alongside the hero of the school themselves, would be bashed and broken already from mere secondary bosses? They wouldn’t stand a chance against this final boss. Idia grinned beneath the mask that he wore, his arms folding over themselves as the Blot around his figure billowed with every breath he took. He could feel the immeasurable power coursing through his veins- and the normally pessimistic male found himself growing rather cocky the more they walked forward. His golden gaze soon landed upon his hero- his knight in shining…well, uniform. He soon was speaking, his arms outstretched as the flames protruding from his figure began to blaze brighter- hotter.
“Bum bum buuummmm~! Our heroes have finally arrived to the final boss battle! But uh ohhhhhh~ looks like they didn’t level enough, now did they~?”
You found yourself gritting your teeth at Idia above. Already, Vil, Rook, and Epel were readying themselves at your side. The rest soon followed, the weapons they had gained during their prior fights with the Overblot Beasts being raised and ready to overwhelm Idia’s Blot. Idia began to cackle, raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Uh ooohh~! Eheheheheheheeeee~! They found the special gear~! But that’s really not gonna do much, you guys! Totally on top of my game, y’know~? These HP and attack stats are through. The. ROOF!”
With his words, Idia’s Overblot Beast, Ortho, began to unleash a flurry of attacks upon you and your party, forcing all of them to scatter across the area. The Beast seemed to know precisely what to do- orders most likely given before this entire fiasco began. You began to find yourself being slowly but surely separated from everyone else thanks to the Beast’s targeted attacks. This separation was key- this was what Idia wanted. He watched as you eventually were cornered entirely, exactly where he wanted you. Once more, a grin spread out under his mask. You looked so cool and tough despite all of this neverending pressure, still shouting out commands for the others to work together to defend themselves, each other, or deflect the attacks his Beast was allowing itself to barrage them all with. He soared downwards until he was finally just before you. You had jumped back slightly upon noticing him approaching, but there truly was nothing that you could use at this time to defend yourself with. He leaned forward, his clawed hands now pressing themselves to either side of the wall beside your head.
“There you are~! The hero themselves~! The shining star of the hour- no, the entirety of Night Raven College~! This is our final stage, (Y/N)! Isn’t it thrilling~?”
“Idia, this is absolutely crazy! You are going to wind up killing us all with thi-”
A clawed finger pressed itself against your lips as he shifted, shushing you gently as he rolled his glowing amber eyes.
“Okay, listen- babe. (Y/N). Baby. Babycakes. Sweetheart. Sweetie pie. Wonder Student. I’m gonna stop you riiigghhtt there, actually- because I know. I know about the whole thing. But you’re gonna be my hero, you know~? You are going to save a life- just like you’ve been doing! So, it’s all good, ‘kay~?”
You began to attempt to protest, but you soon found yourself being swept into Idia’s arms and pulled about. The crazed Overblotted Idia now began to waltz with you despite all of the destruction around the both of you. He sighed blissfully, his eyes burning ablaze with a fiery passion- it was unnerving. He leaned forward once more, now beginning to hush into your ear through that glowing mask he wore.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment, (Y/N). The countless hours I have spent watching and studying your damn near every move…I know your exact schedule bit by bit, y’know, ehehehehee~ I mean, with you and your coolness, you never know when you’re gonna stop another Overblot, honestly. But that coolness that you have doesn’t matter down here- and y’know why~?”
Your eyes soon widened considerably as you felt Idia grab onto your arm. One of his clawed fingers now was set ablaze with a small, blue flame. His grip was tight- commanding in every sense of the word. The flame began to trace itself upon your flesh as he continued to speak- ignoring your cries and attempts to struggle away from him.
“I know everything about you. I have seen your struggles. Your pain. I mean, separated from your home, whatever friends and family you had before…and thrust into a world of magic without any magic yourself. You have been left in the cold by the Fates themselves to fend for yourself. You struggle simply to survive from day to day without any money here…you struggle to maintain your cool and calm composure and keep people like those Heartslabyul first years and the little guy in line…and you then have to deal with the rantings and ravings of spoiled brats like those that Overblotted and, despite wanting for it all to just end, have to buck yourself up instead and keep them from ending it all? It is just an endless cycle of pain, regret, and a loveless life that you have fallen into.”
The more Idia spoke and you felt that flame burning upon your arm, the more you found yourself getting lost into the swirling golden pools upon his sleek, pale, oddly handsome face that were his eyes. For the first time since you had arrived here…you actually genuinely felt seen. You felt heard. Oddly enough, from someone that you had truly rarely seen outside of his own room within the confines of the school itself. Your own gaze finally shifted down to your arm as his finger retracted. He had burned the insignia of his family’s company, S.T.Y.X., onto your flesh. He blew out the fire on his finger, now grinning once more wickedly beneath his mask as his clawed hands now seized you by the waist once more, pulling you into his deadly embrace.
“I know, I know. I know it hurts. All of that going on and absolutely nothing to ever truly be gained from it all…well, my Wonder Student…that’s gonna end for you right now. With what I just gave you…you are mine. And when you’re mine, you have a purpose. You will be protected, provided for. No longer shall you be within the confines of a cage and hidden away in the shadows- you shall be the bright and shining star in our tale- and properly get those monetary stats and all of that raised~!”
Idia’s hand whisked over his face- where that mask was nestled. The mask faded away, revealing his pearly white, razor sharp teeth. They glistened at you as it felt Death was grinning at you- which it essentially was. His royal blue lips curled upwards into a wicked grin as he tugged you even closer to himself, now leaning all of the way forward towards you.
“C’mon~”
He began to pull you with him once more, twisting and turning your body with himself. His clawed hands trailed up and down your figure within your shared dance of destruction, his thoughts split between what he would do with you now that you belonged to him…and that of his brother’s life that you soon would pull up from the depths of the Underworld for him. You all would be a family together- and that only seemed to excite him further as his motions grew swifter, yet sly. He soon had you dramatically dipped, and his lips captured yours in a warm, passionate kiss…thus beginning your true dance with death.
~End~
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st4rfckerz · 5 months
Text
Church Mouse | Priest!Anakin Skywalker x reader
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word count: 4.0k
warnings: MDNI 18+, blasphemy, age gap (reader is in her 20s), mild manipulation, infedelity, pet names, dubcon, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, virginity loss, rushed ending dead dove do not eat
summary: After confessing your sins to the priest, he encourages you to talk to him privately.
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The sun shone brightly outside the church windows, casting warm rays across the peaceful town square. Birds sang melodiously in trees lining the peaceful avenue leading to the church building. Inside, candles flickered gently, casting warm light on the ornate wooden pews filled with devoted parishioners.
Many attendees wore their finest clothes as they listened intently to Father Anakin's sermons, occasionally whispering prayers under their breath or reaching for their rosaries. The scent of incense mixed pleasantly with perfume and cologne wafting through the air.
"Today's lesson is about finding solace in our faith during difficult times, we have all faced trials and tribulations throughout life, but remember that God is always with us, guiding us through these dark moments," he paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before adding. "Just like how I am here for you all, If anyone needs guidance or support outside of church hours, please don't hesitate to visit me personally."
The crowd applauded politely, some even raising their hands in praise.
Anakin stood tall and proud in front of his congregation, his hands resting gracefully atop each other in prayer position. "But first, let us pray," he began solemnly. Everyone followed suit, kneeling on their knees, and bowing their heads in unison. He led them in a heartfelt prayer asking for strength and guidance throughout the week ahead. Your eyes were closed tightly as you prayed fervently, the beads of you rosary clicking softly in rhythm with each breath you took.
The prayer ends and you raise your head. Anakin's warm eyes met yours briefly before returning his gaze to the congregation. "Remember, my dear friends, if you ever need someone to turn to in times of trouble or doubt, I am here for you. Now, let us proceed with the sermon." He said softly yet firmly.
Anakin's sermon lasted well beyond the usual hour mark, his words resonating deeply within you. He talked about sin and repentance, forgiveness and redemption. Each sentence seemed tailored specifically for you, hitting hard at places you didn't even know existed. His voice was mesmerizing, lulling you into a trance-like state where all you could think about was him.
After thanking everyone for attending church today, Anakin announced that confessionals would remain open for anyone who needed to speak with him privately. He urged those waiting outside the confessional booths to enter one by one. People started lining up outside the confessional booths, waiting patiently for their turn to unburden themselves.
You hesitated briefly, unsure whether you should go or not.
Finally, mustering up courage, you walked slowly towards the nearest booth, taking deep breaths to calm yourself.
You couldn't help but notice how many women seemed particularly entranced by Father Anakin; they hung onto his every word during sermons and lingered longer than necessary after Mass ended. Some even approached him directly after services, seeking personal guidance or counsel.
When it was finally your turn, you nervously stepped inside the dimly lit booth. The thick wooden panel separated you from him, giving you some semblance of privacy. You hoped no one could hear what you were about to say.
"Forgive me Father for I have sinned." You begin timidly.
You could hear his soothing voice responding softly, "What is it my child? Remember, here you can speak freely without fear of judgment." His deep baritone reverberated through the wooden walls, making your knees tremble slightly.
Unsure of how to begin, you struggled to find the right words. Your voice trembled slightly as you managed to spit out the confession that had been weighing heavily on your mind for days now.
"I had an encounter with a boy and it was wrong," You explain. "He touched me Father." The admission felt like a heavy stone being lifted off your chest, but also brought forth a wave of guilt and shame.
Your heart raced faster than ever before, and you could feel sweat forming on your palms as they clutched tightly onto the confession railing.
Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, a slight frown creeping onto his otherwise serene face.
His warmth radiated off him like a furnace, making you feel as if you were melting in his presence. "And did you enjoy it?" he asked bluntly, his tone laced with curiosity rather than judgment.
Slightly taken aback you respond meekly, "No sir."
After a brief pause, he continued, his tone becoming more commanding. "Meet me in my office once everyone has left." With that cryptic statement, you hear his door open, signaling the end of confession time. After gathering yourself, you cautiously left the booth and returned to the previously vacant pew.
As everyone else left the almost empty church, you sat in silence and waited. The sun casted a warm, golden light through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the pews surrounding you. It was only you and a woman only a few years your senior. The woman's eyes lingered on Anakin hungrily as she waited for him to acknowledge her presence
The woman, dressed in a somewhat modest dress and heels, stood in front of Anakin. They engaged in conversation for several minutes, their voices low enough that you couldn't make out what they were discussing. Anakin gave you a small nod towards the hallway leading to his office, indicating you should wait outside while he finished up with the other woman. Reluctantly, you stepped into the empty hallway, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. Every step felt like walking on eggshells, and every sound echoed loudly in your ears. Finally, after what seemed like forever, you reach his office.
With haste, you slip inside and shut the door. You sat nervously in the chair, trying to compose yourself as you waited for Anakin to finish his conversation with the woman. The office itself was tastefully decorated, featuring a large wooden desk with numerous religious trinkets and pictures of Jesus Christ adorning the walls. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with volumes on religion, philosophy, and psychology. A large cross hung prominently above his desk, casting eerie shadows across the room.
The door creaked open, and Anakin stepped inside, closing and locking it behind him. His long legs striding confidently towards you as you remain sitting in your chair. Reaching out, he gently caressed your cheek with his warm palm, his fingers brushing against your jawline. His touch sent electric shockwaves through your body, making it hard for you to focus on anything but him.
"Did you enjoy today's sermon little lamb?" He asks softly.
"Yes Father," You managed to croak out, your voice cracking slightly. "It was very moving."
Anakin walks over to his desk and sits down across from you, his presence nearly overpowering as he leaned forward in his chair. His large frame loomed over you, making you feel small and insignificant yet simultaneously drawn to him.
"I noticed how attentive you've been during my sermons," he admitted with a slight smirk. "It's quite flattering, actually." You couldn't help but blush at his candid admission, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and excitement wash over you.
"Now, tell me more about this encounter you mentioned during confession," he said calmly, leaning forward slightly. His presence was suffocating yet strangely comforting, making it difficult for you to form coherent sentences. "What exactly happened between you and this boy?"
"W-well the other day me and this boy were studying together, and then he kissed me." you admitted sheepishly.
"Is that all he did?" Anakin pressed, his eyes boring into yours. His question caught you off guard, and you hesitated before answering truthfully.
"No sir, when we kissed he put his fingers...inside me." Your face flushed even brighter at your confession, and you felt heat rising in your chest. Anakin's expression remained unchanged, but you could feel the heat emanating from him intensifying.
"Was it consensual?" he asked bluntly, his eyes boring into yours.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to respond. On one hand, you knew what you had done was wrong, but another part of you couldn't deny the thrill and excitement it brought you
"Yes Father," you whispered softly, barely audible above the ticking clock on his desk. You hung your head low in shame, tears threatening to spill over at the thought of betraying your faith. "But I didn't...you know." Anakin's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes searching yours intently. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze intensifying. Anakin paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully.
"You didn't have an orgasm." He stated bluntly, his tone devoid of judgment. You shake your head quickly, too embarrassed to speak again.
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, his forearms resting on his knees. His icy blue eyes bore into yours, searching for some hidden truth that you refused to admit. "It's natural for a young woman like yourself to be curious about her body and sexuality," he said matter-of-factly. "But remember, these desires must be channeled appropriately. God created us with these urges, but we must learn to control them."
Anakin rose from his chair, towering over you as he extended a hand towards his own seat. "Please, sit," he commanded softly, his voice carrying an underlying command that left no room for refusal. You hesitantly stood up and walked tentatively towards him, your heart racing wildly in anticipation of what was to come.
Anakin stood behind you as you sat in his big, leather chair. He opened a large, leather-bound Bible on the desk, flipping through the pages until he found a particular passage. "Read this passage aloud for me," he commanded softly, his hands resting lightly on the arms of the chair. "I believe it might resonate with you." You cleared your throat and began to read the passage about self control, giving it your best effort despite the heavy breathing behind you.
"2 Peter 1:4 Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires." You read quietly. Anakin listened intently as you read the passage, his fingers lightly tracing circles on your nape and down your spine. With each touch, your brain became foggier, making it difficult for you to concentrate on the words written centuries ago.
"That's beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and husky. Anakin leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. "Do you understand what these words mean?" he whispers.
"Yes Father." You reply quietly. Anakin's fingers traced lower, brushing against your cleavage through your top. "Good girl," he praised, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Now, I want you to close your eyes and imagine that these words are being spoken directly to you by God Himself."
He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Imagine that He's telling you, 'My child, I love you unconditionally. You are mine, and no one else can ever take that away from you.' Do you feel it spreading throughout your body?" A surge of warmth washed over you like a tidal wave. It started at your feet and spread upwards, engulfing every inch of your body. You shivered in delight as goosebumps formed on your skin.
Anakin flipped the Bible page to another passage, his fingers brushing against yours lightly as he did so. "Now, read this one aloud for me, 1 Thessalonians 4:3-5" he commanded softly, his warm breath tickling your earlobe.
You obediently did as he commanded, trying hard not to focus on the growing arousal between your legs. You clear your throat and speak again.
"For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God."
As you read the passage, Anakin's lips traced slow, gentle kisses along your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Each touch ignited a fire within you, making it increasingly difficult to focus on the words written on the page. Anakin's lips reached your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin.
"You're still pure, aren't you?" he asked softly, nipping lightly at your earlobe. "No one has ever claimed you like this before?" His hand reaches down and slides underneath your skirt, brushing his knuckles against your wet, cotton panties.
"Yes." you managed to choke out, your voice cracking with desire. Your body arched into his touch, begging for more. You bit your bottom lip hard, trying to suppress the moan escaping your throat as he continued to tease and torment you. You felt your resolve crumble beneath his relentless assault on your senses. His words had substance, they seemed so full of meaning. You were mesmerized.
Anakin groaned lowly, his voice low and husky. "I knew there was something special about you, my church mouse," he whispered in your ear, his breath warm and intoxicating. Anakin's hand moved to the edge of your panties, his warm fingers pulling them to the side. His thumb teased your throbbing clit, circling around it slowly. "You weren't this wet when that boy touched you, were you?" he purred, his voice filled with satisfaction.
"N-no Father, I wasn't." you moan softly, unable to contain the growing need building inside of you. Anakin's fingers plunge into your aching cunt, moving in and out of your tight entrance slowly at first, his thumb still circling your sensitive nub. His breathing grew heavier, matching the rapid pace of your own as he continued to explore your most sacred parts.
"That's my girl," he praised, his voice laced with lust. "Feel how much you need me?"
You nodded vigorously, unable to form coherent words as his touch escalated. Each curl of his fingers inside your drooling cunt heightened your arousal, making it nearly impossible for you to concentrate on anything else. His touch was unlike anything you'd ever experienced before—it was both rough and tender, possessive yet caring. The combination of his power and gentleness left you feeling both terrified and exhilarated at the same time.
Soon your body tensed up, and you could feel your orgasm building rapidly. Anakin pulled his fingers out of your core just as you reached the brink of ecstasy, leaving you hanging on the edge of orgasm.
"No, why'd you stop?" you whine softly as you turn around to face him. You pouted, your lower lip quivering in frustration as he denied you the release you so desperately craved.
A smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Not yet, little lamb." he teased, his voice laced with power and control. Anakin stood up straight again, his erection straining against his pants. He pulled your chair back slightly, creating enough room for him to stand in front of you. His large frame loomed over you as he placed a hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
Anakin's eyes bore into yours, searching for any signs of hesitation or deceit. "Do you pray every night?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.
You nodded earnestly, unable to hide the truth from him. "Yes, Father. I pray every night before bed." Anakin knelt down in front of you, his broad shoulders framing your body. His hands moved to rest on your knees, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over your skin.
"What do you pray for? What do you ask of God?" Anakin asks softly, his eyes searching yours intently.
You glanced down at your lap, unable to meet his piercing gaze. "I ask for strength and guidance, mostly." you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck.
Anakin's eyes narrowed slightly, studying your reaction. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice low and husky. "Good," His hand moved up your leg, lifting your skirt enough to expose your panty-clad pussy. "I can't help but notice how devoted you are during my sermons," he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "It would be a sin for me not to reward my favorite student.
With one swift motion, he yanked your panties down to your ankles, exposing your slick coated cunt to his hungry eyes. Anakin placed your leg on his shoulder, giving him better access to your now-exposed folds. His warm, wet tongue traced slow circles around your entrance before dipping inside, his tongue flicking against your sensitive spots with expert precision.
"Read again," he commanded, his voice mumbling against your warm flesh. "Proverbs 18:21."
You fumbled with the Bible, your hands shaking slightly as you tried to focus on the words written on its pages.
"The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit."
Anakin hums in approval against your mound, causing a rush of vibrations to flow through your body. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. Your grip tightened on his hair, pulling him closer, your nails scratching lightly against his scalp.
You whimpered, your body tensing up in anticipation of imminent orgasm. "Father, I-I feel it coming again." you managed to choke out between moans.
Anakin's hand moved to your entrance, two fingers slipping inside of you, stretching you wider. "That's it," he said, his voice low and husky. "Let go and let yourself succumb to His will."
A wave of pure ecstasy crashed over you, your entire body convulsed, and a string of lewd moans escaped your lips. Your orgasm was unlike anything you had ever experienced before—more intense, more powerful, and more fulfilling than any previous encounter. It felt as though the heavens themselves were opening up to claim your soul.
Anakin's tongue continued to lap up your juices, his eyes locked on yours as he savored the taste of your arousal. With a smirk, he stood up straight again, towering over you in all his glory. Anakin's eyes were ablaze with desire as he stood over you, his hardened cock straining against his pants.
"We're not quite done yet," he said, his voice low and raspy. "Stand up."
He reached down, undoing his pants and boxers in one swift motion, freeing his thick member from its confines. It stood tall and proud, glistening with pre-cum, its head flushed a deep crimson.
"Bend over," he ordered. Slowly, you stood up and turned around, your back facing him. Anakin's hands gripped your hips, positioning you over the desk. You felt his cock poking against your ass, and a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine.
Anakin's large, calloused hands gripped your firm ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them roughly. His fingers traced slow circles around your puckered entrance before moving lower, teasing your wet folds. He held his member in his other hand, rubbing the head against your entrance, teasing you mercilessly. "Do you still want this sweet girl?"
You gave a soft, breathy moan of approval, your hips wiggling slightly in anticipation. Anakin's hand connected with your ass cheek, a sharp slap that made you yelp in surprise.
"Speak up."
You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. "Yes, Father." you finally managed to utter, your voice trembling with need.
"There you go." he coos his voice filled with faux sincerity. "Now, relax and let me take care of you." Anakin's cockhead pushed past your tight entrance, stretching you slowly but surely. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he began to thrust into you with deliberate slowness, his hips rocking back and forth in a rhythmic motion.
Your hands gripped the edge of the desk tightly, nails digging into the wood as he claimed possession of you, filling you completely. After several deep thrusts, the initial pain subsided, replaced by an overwhelming wave of pleasure. Anakin's hands keep hold of your hips, holding you steady as he pounded into you, filling every crevice of your tight passage. Your moans turned into whimpers, becoming more desperate as he picked up speed, his tip kissed your sweet spot with precision.
"Thaaat's it, give yourself to Him, let him cleanse you." he managed to grunt out between gasps for breath.
Your hand slipped off the desk, accidentally knocking over a family photo frame that fell to the floor with a loud crash. Anakin didn't seem to notice or care, his focus entirely on claiming you, taking what he believed was rightfully his.
The tight coil in your stomach began to build up once more, and you knew it wouldn't be long now. You arched your back, your hips moving in sync with his, begging for release. His pace quickened, his breath hot against your neck as he growled out, "Cum for me angel, I know you're close." His words were like a trigger, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.
Anakin groaned, his hips bucking wildly as he felt your worn cunt clamp around him. With a final powerful thrust, he erupted inside you, filling you to the brim with his hot seed. His cock twitched and pulsed, draining every drop of his essence into you.
You collapsed against the desk, panting heavily, your entire body covered in sweat. Anakin leaned forward, his lips brushing against your shoulder. His cock slowly pulled out of your sore cunt, leaving you feeling empty and drained. He stepped back, admiring his work, his cock still semi-erect, dripping with your fluids. He extended a hand to help you steady yourself. Anakin turned to you, his eyes softening slightly. "Are you ok sweetheart?" he asked, concern etched on his features.
You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. " 'm fine," you managed to mutter, your voice hoarse.
"You did so good for me," Anakin panted, his eyes glazed over with fufillment. He helped you pull your panties back up your legs, his fingers brushing against your sensitive folds, causing a shiver to run through you.
Anakin sat back down in his chair, and motioned for you to sit on his lap. "Come here." he smiles. You tentatively approached him with wobbly legs, unsure of what he had in mind. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, so you were sitting sideways on his lap, your legs draped over his thighs. Anakin placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, his breath tickling your scalp. You remained like this for a moment, both caught in your own thoughts.
Breaking the silence, Anakin spoke softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. "I want you to know something angel," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I would never hurt you, physically or otherwise. Our interactions are between us and God's eyes alone." You nodded, still processing everything that had transpired.
"If anyone ever finds out about today, we won't be able to see each other like this again." Anakin's hand tightened slightly, his fingers digging into your skin. "Do you understand me?" he asked, his voice taking on a threatening edge.
You nodded solemnly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I understand Father."
Anakin placed another soft kiss on your head before resting his cheek against your temple, his hand still firmly holding you in place.
"Good girl." he whispered.
Your eyes wander off and you suddenly see a cross hanging on the wall, the sight of it immediately brought an uneasy feeling to you. It felt like it was casting a small ominous and disapproving aura.
Uncertainty and confusion warred inside you, but there was also a strange sense of belonging and connection.
As you stare longer you feel as if it's judging you and looking at you as if it is not happy with what you have been doing.
You remain in his arms, you felt an odd mix of emotions, the sense of euphoria and bliss you felt with Anakin being so tender with you was overshadowed by the feeling of something not being right. You feel a tinge of regret for what you took part in but a part of you wants to do it again.
Maybe next Sunday.
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662 notes · View notes
littledovesnow · 5 months
Text
the sound of snow
request: coriolanus with a girlfriend (wife in this case) who has hearing damange from the war
word count: 2.2k
content warnings: coriolanus being kinda awful in his speech but it's canon sooo, lucky flickerman trying to make a joke (spoiler: it doesn't land well), i think that's it?
a/n: ok i am not d/Deaf/HoH but i do have friends and former classmates who are, and i've done research before writing this. please correct me if i am wrong about anything. i left some things vague (such as hearing loss level), but overall i think it's decent?
also italics are when there's sign language being used :)
also also i had like three title ideas for this but i feel like they're all so bad but i liked this one the best
-----
Coriolanus had first met you back when you were both still wet behind the ears, unsure of how to navigate life after the Dark Days. His family had taken a direct hit when District 13 was no longer, his family’s fortune plundering into the depth unknown. Your family, however, had to face a different setback: a few rather close bomb blasts had stolen a majority of your hearing.
Coming from an affluent family, you were able to afford a private tutor growing up, teaching you and your family sign language, though as you grew old enough you were fit for a hearing aid in the left ear—the only one with enough hearing left to make it worthwhile.
All the while, you and Coriolanus never turned your backs on each other, choosing to let each other in on your trials and tribulations, knowing secrets were safe between the two of you. He had thus learned sign language from being in your home so often, Tigris and the Grandma’am having picked up on some of the more common phrases.
When you were both of age to begin at the Academy, your father fought tooth and nail with the Dean to ensure you were well-equipped with an interpreter when necessary, though you often went without one as you grew tiresome of the stares from your classmates.
During the 10th Annual Hunger Games, you say alongside Coriolanus as you two watched the tributes battle for victory, both celebrating when Lucy Gray was crowned the victor, both unaware of what fate waited your boyfriend the following day.
His stint in District 12 was something you two rarely spoke on, choosing to forget those few disastrous months while you were separated, you back in the Capitol studying at University while Coriolanus learned the hard way what it meant to be a Peacekeeper, to learn what it feels like to betray a friend, to learn what true power felt like.
Dr. Gaul had spoken to you prior to calling Coriolanus back to the Capitol, wanting your input if he would be a considerable candidate for her Gamemaker Apprenticeship, to which you informed her it was one of the biggest honors he would have wished for. Thus, Coriolanus was recalled back to the Capitol, back to you, where he stood alongside Dr. Gaul to prepare for years of Hunger Games, eventually landing as a true Gamemaker as Dr. Gaul began to take steps back in preparation for her retirement.
One day, however, Coriolanus had told her he was interested in becoming Panem’s next president, with Felix Ravinstill gone and no other heirs of the title, an election would take place. It was no surprise to the Head Gamemaker when the blonde brought the idea up, having seen him yearn and hunger for the coveted presidential position since he was fresh out of the Academy.
It came as no shock when he was announced at the Panem’s next president, you alongside of him as the First Lady. The country never knew what would become of the young couple, stars and revenge in their eyes.
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Coriolanus knew where he could find you once he returned from the Citadel, having met with Dr. Gaul for the upcoming 25th Hunger Games. He wanted them to be more of a spectacle than usual, to commemorate the quarter century since the end of the war.
He ignored the Avox who had opened the door to the private wing of the mansion, ignored the Avox who had his usual glass of whiskey waiting on a silver platter.
Opening the door to the greenhouse, Coriolanus’ eyes lit up as he saw you carefully pruning the rose bush planted in memorial of the Grandma’am. “Love?”
You looked up, and Coriolanus smiled when he realized your hearing aid was still in. You usually chose not to wear it while at home, preferring the comfortable silence from time to time.
“How was your day?” He asked, helping you untie the gardening smock you wore to protect the clothing underneath.
“It was fine, uneventful.” You replied, looking at the garden around the two of you. “How was Volumnia?”
Coriolanus was still gobsmacked that Dr. Gaul allowed his wife to call her by her first name, only a select few Capitol citizens were granted that honor, though he was one of them.
“She misses you, asked that you stop by sometime for lunch.” Coriolanus mused, plucking a rose out of the bunch in the vase. “Maybe you can help her come up with some new strategies for The Games, she loved your idea of stocking some food in the middle.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, not expecting the silly idea of arming the tributes with food to be such a hit in the Captiol. Betting had been at an all-time high for the tributes who had been able to get their hands on the stale, tasteless protein bars.
“I’ll see if she’s available on Thursday.” You knew the mad scientist would make room any day to meet with you. She had a soft spot for you, no one was quite sure why.
“You can ask her this evening, since we have that awful gala to start preparing for The Games.”
You looked at your husband, clearly forgetting about the gala. “I forgot that was tonight. I wouldn’t have pruned the roses if I had known.”
Coriolanus, who was cold-hearted and strict in public, simply waved off the nonissue. “You wore gloves, a smock, you look as beautiful as ever.”
You pressed your lips to his, disappearing to the bathroom for a shower prior to getting ready.
-----
 Attending Capitol galas and evening events as First Lady of Panem was something you weren’t sure you would ever get used to. Cameras flashing, various news outlets trying to get a snippet of you and Coriolanus talking, microphones in your faces.
Not that they would get anything, as Coriolanus was only going to give hints at his next political plans, life events, anything really, to Lucky Flickerman, who he had become rather close with following his mentorship in the Academy.
“D’you want anything to drink?” Coriolanus asked, lips brushing on the shell of your left ear.
Nodding, you two moved over to the bar for a couple glasses of posca before starting the endless circle of meeting politicians, thanking Capitol elites for their support, and the nagging question of when you two would start a family.
You had eventually been able to break free from the conversation you and Coriolanus were stuck in when Lucky Flickerman himself took the spot in behind the podium, preparing to start the night’s speeches.
Taking your seats, you felt Coriolanus place his arm on the back of your chair, hand brushing up and down the back your right bicep, goosebumps breaking out in the area.
As Lucky began his speech, you moved closer to your husband, whispering in his ear, “I can’t understand what he’s saying.”
Coriolanus looked back at you, noticing the missing hearing aid, eyebrow raised.
“I forgot to put it back in after my shower.”
Without missing a beat, Coriolanus shifted in his seat and began to interpret the speeches for you, ignoring the not-so-subtle looks you two were getting, mainly from newer guests who weren’t used to seeing the president use sign language.
At the conclusion of Lucky’s speech, a Capitol employee scuttled over to the First Couple.
“President Snow, we can have an Avox translate if you’d like.”
Frowning, Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s alright, I can interpret for my wife.”
The employee didn’t seem to expect that response, simply blinking at the couple.
“Is that a problem?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring your hand on his knee.
“N-no, not at all. I just- you’re expected to make a speech tonight, too.” The employee tried to backpedal, not wanting to ruin his career tonight.
You chose this moment to speak up, not wanting Coriolanus to overreact. “It’s fine, Coryo’s quite apt at making sure I know what’s going on. Why don’t you be a dear and get me a glass of wine?”
The employee was quick to leave the conversation, and Coriolanus looked at you. “You’re too kind to them.”
Shrugging, you took the full glass without so much as a glance in the employee’s direction. “Someone has to be.”
Coriolanus let out an airy laugh as he stood up, dusting off some nonexistent crumbs from his burgundy suit. He squeezed your arm before departing from your side, taking his place where Lucky Flickerman had left open, the weatherman-turned-host made sure to give his hand a shake as they exchanged pleasantries.
 Giving everyone a moment to settle down, Coriolanus cleared his throat before beginning, shocking nearly everyone in the room as he used both his voice and hands to conduct the speech.
“The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games are right around the corner, so I thought I would give you all a twist I’m putting into the Reaping ceremony this year, and potentially the following Reapings. Dr. Gaul and I have had numerous discussions about how tributes are elected, and from prior games being rigged, we have initiated a couple updates to the ceremony and process.”
You were curious of the updates Coriolanus was talking about, unaware he was still dipping his toes into Gamemaking.
“Rather than each District’s mayor or elected spokesperson calling the names, we will have someone from the Capitol pull names. It will eliminate the possibility for rigging the tributes. In addition, who really wants to watch groups of children kill each other? With Reaping eligibility starting at age twelve, the Gamemakers and I have decided to increase the number of entries one gets as they age. When they reach the age of eighteen, each possible tribute will be entered into the Reaping six times.”
You weren’t able to hear everyone’s whispers, but you could see them looking at each other, taking in the news.
Coriolanus concluded his speech by introducing Dr. Gaul’s assistant, as the Head Gamemaker had something come up rendering her unable to attend the gala.
When he returned to your side, you looked him up and down. “Some updates, huh? Whose idea were they?”
Coriolanus had a smirk on his face, simply bringing his glass of posca to his lips.
-----
After all of the speeches were finished, some music began to play, letting the now tipsy and drunk Capitol elite take the dancefloor with eager steps.
Lucky Flickerman meandered over to where you and Coriolanus were still seated, discussing what Tigris deserved for her upcoming birthday.
“Not going to share a dance tonight?” He asked, looking between the two of you.
“Oh, Lucky, you should now, we don’t really dance. Only for the most special of occasions.” Coriolanus smiled, twisting the wedding band around his finger.
You wore a matching smile, though your reply wasn’t quite what Lucky expected. “And besides, Lucky, I’m not the best dancer if I can’t hear the music. You should have seen the first time we tried to dance together in the Academy.”  
The mustached man opened his mouth like he was going to reply, but nothing came out except for a chuckle.
Coriolanus hid his smile behind the glass of water he had switched to, not able to tolerate the posca and wine like he had before.
It was one of his favorite moments after you two had officially started dating. The Academy had their annual prom, though it tended to be more of a fashion show than dance, as many students arrived in extravagant outfits that were ill-suited for dancing.
You had been in a sparking silver dress, heels a gift from your mother, red-tinted lips dropping when Coriolanus asked you to dance with him.
It had been enough missteps to last a lifetime, but the two of you took it in stride, promising each other to get a proper dance instructor before your first dance at the wedding years later.
“I do hate to break up the fond memory, honey, but we should be heading out.”
Coriolanus downed the rest of his water before standing, lending you his arm as you two bid goodnight to your friends and Coriolanus’ closest colleagues, before disappearing from the gala.
-----
You walked out of the bathroom from taking your makeup off to see Coriolanus sitting on the bed, sheets pulled back for your arrival.
“Who are you thinking will be the Capitol’s representative for the Reaping?” You asked, mind still going back to the Reaping updates.
Coriolanus closed the book he was reading, eyes looking you up and down as you climbed into the bed. “I don’t know yet. Why, do you have anyone in mind?”
You shrugged, pulling the sheets up to your chest, yawn escaping your lips. “No one in particular, but I’m sure I could come up with some names.”
Coriolanus laughed, setting his book on the nightstand next to him. “We can talk about it when you’re not going to fall asleep in mere minutes. Goodnight, love.”
“Mm, ‘night, Coryo.” You whispered, letting Coriolanus’ soft breathing and the distant sounds of sirens lull you to sleep.
-----
a/n: hey was this good should i do more in this universe let me know
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charles-leclerizz · 3 months
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FORMULA FOR LOVE
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With turns sharper than a Formula one track, Indian, British driver Aisha Patel has embarked on her first ever season in formula one. Join her drama & adrenaline filled races that will have you gripping the edge of your seat !
[@charles-leclerizz is not and never will be, in the forthcoming future, affiliated with Netflix, the FIA or Official FORMULA ONE. All scenarios, character actions, characters and race outcomes are purely fictional and should not be taken seriously.]
Aisha Patel · 🪷
Porsche F1 TEAM · 🪷
The Relationships · 🪷
Challenges · 🪷
⸻ EPISODES:
TRAILER : THE BEGINNING
It's the dawn of a new era.
Upcoming stardome. Streaming only on Netflix
🥭 EPISODE 01 : Start your engine
It's light's off and away we go with newcomer Aisha Patel, the first south-asian female driver in Formula one. Join her in her first ever race in Bahrain and understand the young talent's personality. And see the grid's reaction to the true needle in a haystack.
LENGTH : 51 minutes, 49 seconds
WORD COUNT : 10 K [ 10366 words ]
🥭 EPISODE 02 : Racing Hearts
A few months into the 2024 season Aisha has met someone that ignites her heart like a malfunctioning engine. Will she have to retire from the race, or will she cool off before it's too late?
🥭 EPISODE 03 : Speed of Love
The teams around the paddock are starting to notice Aisha's success, winning race after race, the Indian rookie has impressed and sparked jealousy all around. Will she shatter beneath the pressure, or will she blossom like a lotus?
🥭 EPISODE 04 : Heartbreak Circuit
Icarus has always flown too close to the sun, no matter the rendition. And when too many people have too many opinions, Aisha must realise that a straw can truly break a camel back.
🥭 EPISODE 05 : Victory Lap
Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Aisha finally collects her flames and moulds herself like glass into a beautiful sculpture that refracts light into beautiful shades for all to bask in.
🥭 EPISODE 06 : Love's pit stop
To accelerate or to take a sharp turn? Aisha is met with odd twists within her heart that she will need to fight to escape from. One will come out victorious whilst another, is left in 11th place.
🥭 EPISODE 07 : Racing against time
A simple sign on the dotted line, and just like Ariel, she had signed her voice away. What trials and tribulations is Aisha forced to face within her personal and professional prison?
🥭 EPISODE 08 : Crossing the finish line
Only a few races away from her greatest win, Aisha needs to tie off some hard to grapple with sailors knots, unless she wants to be floating away into the great blue for eternity.
🥭 EPISODE 09 : Heartfelt Victory
It's the end, the last time the lights go off for the 2025 season and Aisha looks back on her year in formula one. Sticking it to those who doubted her and winning where other's thought impossible.
[NOTE ! There will be smaller epilogues, episodes and fillers in between these. for example, a vogue 20 questions or a "what's in my bag" etc. Just for funsies.]
[NOTE ! The couples made in this series will have their own request-able time period, if you want to see something specific from a certain couple within the show, just let me know.]
[NOTE ! The tracking tag is as follows : [#formulaforlove]]
EVERYTHING WRITTEN CAN/WILL BE SUBJECT TO EDITS, CHANGES ETC.
honourary tags [for special pookies] : @disneyprincemuke
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k-daydreams · 1 year
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The Pursuit of Feeling Alive: II. Acting Coy
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Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: swearing, angst, angst, angst!! Ooc Azriel being a dick?, flashbacks, mentions of trauma
Author’s note: wow wow, thank you everyone for the support! Kinda strayed from my original idea of this fic, but I’m loving it more. As always like, reblog, and please give feedback if ya can! I love all the messages I’ve been getting! It makes me so excited for this! Anyways enjoy and lmk if you want to be added to taglist?!
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚
You stood on the corner of the balcony attached to your bedroom in the House of Wind, gazing up at the remarkable Night Court sky. The stars twinkled above, painting the velvet canvas, while a gentle breeze enveloped you, carrying with it the faint scent of jasmine, a delicate reminder of Velaris' beauty. Aware that this might be your final stay in the city for a while, you cherished every precious moment, savoring the sights and sensations that had become familiar and comforting.
Tomorrow morning marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life—a journey to the Spring Court with your parents and the rest of the night court, where you would wed and live with your soon-to-be husband, the eldest son of the High Lord. Leaving the House of Wind was no easy task, for it had become your sanctuary, but it was your duty to follow the path laid before you. The weight of tradition and family expectations had been ingrained in you since childhood, shaping you into the dutiful daughter you strived to be, hoping to bring honor to your family's name. Sacrificing your own hopes, dreams, and aspirations was not in vain, or so you convinced yourself, fearful of the consequences of pursuing a different path.
As you basked in the soft glow of the moonlight, you allowed its radiant embrace to caress your bare arms, feeling a connection with the celestial bodies above. The gentle luminescence seemed to emanate from your own skin, illuminating the periphery of your vision. Tonight, you felt too numb to dim that light, to suppress the thoughts that consumed you. You had just embraced it all. It had been almost a year since your dormant abilities had awakened, making every fire and faelight burn tenfold, announcing your extraordinary powers. Since then, you have dedicated yourself to honing those powers, training relentlessly while also still excelling in your studies and various skill sets. It had also been almost a year since you were promised to a man in whom you held no interest.
The weariness had settled deep within you, amplified in recent weeks by the wedding preparations and the intense mental shield training by Rhysand. The purpose behind this training was to safeguard Velaris and the secrets of the Night Court from the prying minds of daemati, ensuring no slip of information would jeopardize your mission. Rhysand didn’t hold back with training, pushing you, and when you thought he couldn’t push anymore he found away to break you past the point. No amount of tonics and headache powders could help the pain that raged in your head, even making your body ache. You wished to snap, to surrender to the madness— senility seemed like a preferable alternative to the path laid out before you. You knew better than that.
A rustling sound behind you alerted your senses, accompanied by sturdy footsteps that landed with certainty. Without needing to guess, you knew who had joined you on the balcony, and for the moment, you wished for the company of only your own thoughts. That's why you had taken dinner in your room, denying even your handmaiden's presence. You didn't want your family or the court to witness the turmoil brewing within you. How vulnerable you actually were.
"You've been avoiding everyone," Azriel stated, his voice carrying from the opposite side of the balcony. His massive wings were relaxed hung over the railing, his elbows propped on the ornate material. Though he stood a step away, his shadow slid across the tiled floor, subtly wrapping itself around your ankle in a comforting greeting—a gesture you were too stubborn to admit brought solace.
"I've been preoccupied with making sure everything is ready for tomorrow and the wedding," you replied coolly, feigning detachment.
"You have people for that," he countered, a sliver of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Azriel possessed the uncanny ability to read you like an open book—it was, after all, his skill as the Spymaster. It was more than the skill he had as he has been your friend for almost a century already, and he just knew by this point. He could sense whenever you were distressed, angry, happy, or on the verge of breaking apart.
"I'd like to ensure that all my belongings reach the Spring Court safely," you retorted with a nonchalant tone, your hands resting on your hips. Even if he was right, he was the last person who should be visiting you without a chaperone. The high lord was very strict with orders on who could visit you. Azriel was not one of them.
"Bullshit," he coughed, crossing his arms. You turned to face him, glaring, carefully observing his appearance. Dressed in his customary Illyrian fighting leathers, black and glazed, black gloves concealing his scarred hands, his blue siphons shining bright against your own radiant glow, his onyx hair neatly pushed back, not a strand out of place, and his jawline clean-shaven, he looked as fresh as a daisy, despite his busy schedule.
"Have you considered the possibility that I simply don't want company?" you queried, your tone laced with defiance. He chuckled at your stubbornness in a humorless way, rubbing his hand over his face.
"Your affairs are encroaching on mine at this point," he sighed, his frustration not directed at you, but rather at the fact that you had become a pawn in the grand scheme orchestrated by the High Lord, Kier, and your father. Another piece sacrificed in this intricate game of war, and it was unfair to you. While you remained oblivious to what lay ahead, Azriel had an inkling of the ordeal awaiting you. His spies had informed him about your soon-to-be husband and the nature of his family. He had known the court was everything you despised despite having everything you loved. He knew you were about to become the Spring Court's most prized olive branch and trophy once the night court handed you off, and he couldn’t do nothing about it.
"Sorry if my call to duty is so bothersome for you, Spymaster," your blood began to boil, indignation rising within you. He was upset? You were the one marching toward your sole purpose in life, or so you had been led to believe. It felt like you were going to your own funeral. Yet he wanted huff and puff in annoyance?
Azriel raised his hands in defense as your anger escalated. "I say this out of genuine concern for you, dear dove," he said, his voice gentle. Your heart fluttered at the nickname your friend had used for you—an endearing term that had started as teasing but had evolved into something deeper for you. "I know this isn't easy for you. Morrigan sends her wishes as well."
You scowled, your heart aching for what your family had put Morrigan through when she refused a preordained fate. You wished you possessed even a fraction of her bravery. But you were not her; you were yourself—the Night Court's shining jewel, the rare black diamond that they had painstakingly cultivated and finally gotten right.
"Azriel, what if I can't do this? What if I make a mistake?" Your throat tightened, your body trembling as you fought back the anguish welling up inside you. "I'm so fucking scared," you whispered, a tear escaping and trickling down your cheek. Azriel approached, closing the distance between you, and pulled you into his strong arms. He cradled your head with his gloved hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back, while his shadows gently played with the ends of your hair. The dam burst, and sobs wracked your body as you silently cried in his embrace, finally succumbing to the weight of it all. You could smell the mist and cedar on him, and it sent waves of solace through your body. It was one of your favorite smells, if not the top favorite on your list.
"You're going to do more than great," he whispered, his voice a gentle reassurance amidst the storm. "You're going to be the most intelligent, talented, and powerful woman to ever grace the Spring Court with your presence." He gently pulled away, cupping your tear-streaked face, wiping away the evidence of your pain. His hazel irises bore into yours, and a sincere look on his face as he continued. "Did I mention the prettiest as well?" A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you rolled your eyes, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood. You pulled him back to you, just needing to savor his warmth and presence for a little while longer. He didn’t protest, just rubbing your back as his shadows still continued to play with your hair.
After a while, you pulled away feeling your eyes were getting heavy. "I suppose I should get some sleep. Thank you, Az," you sniffled, your voice still shaky. He nodded, offering you a closed-lip smile.
"Of course, dear dove," he nodded, the moonlight still casting its ethereal glow upon you, making even your stray tears appear crystalline. Retrieving a small box from his pocket, he handed it to you—a black box adorned with a deep purple ribbon. "From all of us. You don't have to open it right now."
You took the box from his hand, your fingers lingering for a moment on his gloved one. He seized the opportunity and pulled you into another embrace, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. Your heart swelled at the gesture. Azriel may have been aloof most of the time, but when it mattered, he was compassionate. You could only hope your husband would possess a fraction of his considerate nature. He pulled away, and you wiped the remaining tears from your face.
"Goodnight, Y/n," he murmured.
"Goodnight, Az," you nodded, watching him as he moved away. His wings rustled before taking flight into the shimmering night sky of Velaris. You allowed him several meters of distance before entering your room. Sitting on your bed, you toyed with the small box, anticipation building within you. Unable to resist any longer, you opened the gift.
Inside, nestled on a bed of purple velvet, was a stunning jewelry set adorned with black diamonds. They were the most exquisite pieces you had ever laid eyes upon. A note was tucked beside them, signed by Rhysand, Morrigan, Cassian, and Azriel:
For our little star.
You had been heavy in thought all morning, memories haunting you, filling your heart with a weird sense of deja-vu. Preparing to leave for the Night Court proved to be a daunting task while nursing a hangover. At least you were staying for another few days, only gathering some belongings to leave with Morrigan when the inner circle left this morning. You wanted to tie up loose ends before leaving the Day Court and returning to the city of Velaris. You couldn't bear to leave Helion clueless on what stood in your affairs at his court; you had left too many loose ends in your life already. This time you were determined to at least end this chapter of your life closed and on a better note than all the others in your life.
The faint smell of the wildflowers and honey from the colorful gardens below breezed through the windows, and light from the morning sun glittered your skin where it was exposed as you moved around your room. You savored the feeling on you as it absorbed through your thin night clothes and robes as you packed. The light was hard to ignore as it buzzed in your veins, the frequency low compared to what it felt like when you weren’t hungover. Your head was already spinning, a whirlwind of emotions and nerves churning about. It was hard to tell whether the flutter in your stomach came from nerves or the remnants of the wine you had indulged in the night into the early morning. A big thanks to Mor, who never allowed your glass to be empty.
You had packed a decent size sack of clothes, but glamoured it into a small coin purse so Mor could easily bring it to Velaris without straining herself too much. Her room was further down at the end of the hall from yours, where she had always stayed in the Day Court (when she had not occupied Helion’s room). Not feeling the need to change out your night clothes yet, you left your room with the coin purse to go visit your cousin.
The day court palace was ethereal and heavenly. Everything from the statues, the molding around the high domed ceilings, the pillars that lined the halls of the palace, to the tiles of the floor were made of marble and quartz. The dome ceilings had murals painted of past day court rulers, great battle scenes from the Great War, and even some of Helion’s closest friends and court members. The halls had endless windows to let the sunlight in with balconies and verandas attached that held sitting areas of gold and champagne colored silk chairs and tables scattered about facing the best views of the grounds.
As you strolled down the hallway, the sunlight embraced your skin, leaving a warm sensation lingering upon you. The rings adorning your fingers glimmered, casting reflections on the polished floor. It was these little details that you would surely miss once you departed—the comforting warmth of the Day Court and the ability to harness your power so effortlessly. In the Night Court, where the moon and stars reigned supreme, the sun’s brilliance was muted, and manipulating light consistently proved more challenging. Lost in your own world and lost in thought, you failed to notice who was walking your way.
“Y/n!”
You looked over and saw Cassian, Nesta, Elain, and Azriel walking towards you. You mustered up a brave face, offering a meek smile. Azriel’s shadows came out of nowhere, swirling and circling up his arms. Almost like they were chirping to him. He subtly shook his arm to rid them, not looking impressed.
“Good morning,” you greeted, tucking your robe closer to your body, trying to cover up a bit more. You couldn’t help but notice the awe in Elain’s and Nesta’s faces as they looked at you. You didn’t think it was because you were in your night clothes either.
“You're glowing,” Nesta said with inquisition, ignoring your greeting. Your skin even through the mesh of your robe shined lightly emanating a soft glow.
Your cheeks reddened and you willed the light down into your being, not doing a great job as it seemed to shine brighter. Cassian smiled broadly, his wings rustling in amusement. Azriel had remained stoic close behind Elain. His facial expression was unreadable, a big contrast to the wonder in the young woman’s face.
“Didn’t I tell you she did that?” Cassian wrapped his arm around his mate, and her eyebrows furrowed together looking at him. She reminded you of a black apothecary cat that hated almost everyone, and Cassian was the stray golden long haired dog that roamed around the streets of Velaris begging for pets and food. It was odd, but sweet.
“I thought you meant figuratively.” She pushed him away slightly, fixing her hair.
“No, no it’s actually literal.” You tried to add a playful tone to your voice in an attempt to diffuse your unease. You felt naked and improper in front of them in just your night clothes. It didn’t help, they were already dressed for the day, all in their traveling attire.
“Intriguing,” Nesta hummed in curiosity.
“I think it’s beautiful,” Elain spoke up. “You’re truly the star they say you are.” You looked at the middle Archeron sister, her features soft and dainty. Her brown eyes are warm like toffee and her hair matched. She had reminded you of yourself many many centuries ago. “I had a lot of time to read in the libraries.”
“I’m in books, I didn’t realize I was of significance.” The statement came out harsher than intended. The feeling of indifference was powerful towards your biological family.
“You are one of the most important court members to exist. Of course you're in the Night Court texts.” Azriel muttered. “No need to act coy.” Though his voice was calm and level, you knew that had been intended as snark.
Your softened gaze hardened as you glared at him, “I’m not being coy, just genuinely surprised because I was also one of the most shunned members.” The air was now heavy with an unsaid tension as Cassian and the sisters looked between Azriel and you. This was the first time you’ve talked to him in over fifty years, of course it was meant to be an argument. Cassian should’ve expected this, knowing his brother's feelings and how your temper got. Knowing how you ended things and the complex history between you two.
“Surprised you’re always put on a pedestal, no matter what your status is?” He jeered. Your could feel your inner rage ignite in your veins. You weren’t some pretty prize or trophy. Not anymore at least.
“Nesta, Elain let me show you the gardens.” Cassian suggested casually. Nesta looked entertained that she got to see the shadowsinger break his mask of cool, but quickly got annoyed at her mate who was pulling her away. Whereas Elain looked hesitant, bracing a hand on Azriel’s muscular bicep, showing her concern before trailing behind her sister.
“We’ll see you back at Velaris, Y/n.” Cassian put his hand on your shoulder walking past you and shooting Azriel a pointed look, escorting the women to the gardens; leaving the other Illyrian male and you alone. You watched as Elain walked away, Azriel’s shadows came out once again alerting the male in front of you.
Your narrowed eyes and the lurch in your stomach betrayed the surge of emotions you felt as you observed him staring after her. That look, the same one he used to give Mor when he thought no one else was watching, the one you used to yearn for—now it made you sick. An insatiable, jealous feeling clawed at you.
“Moved on, I see.” You chided, not being able to filter your mouth. You knew it was a low blow, knowing what you did know, but at this moment you didn’t care. Any warmth you felt from the past night had dissipated and you let your heart iced over once more.
“That’s none of your concern.” He uttered. His eyes a dark hazel as he took you in finally, without the stares of others following. You wanted to shudder under his dark gaze, but you held your composure standing taller, chin jutted out. He stalked towards you until his face dangerously close to yours, his frame towering over you. His steady breath hit your face as he spoke lowly. “Nor are matters in the Night Court.”
You could feel the flames building and intensifying inside you. “Is my appearance not wanted by you Spymaster?” Rhysand said he wouldn’t admit that missed you, but surely this couldn’t be the same Azriel that your cousin had spoken about last night.
He scoffed, “you ran away from us after you were freed. You didn’t even send a letter. I-we had to find out from Rhys once he came back from the cabin!” His smooth voice now gruff from his raising it. Azriel hardly raised his voice at anyone, but when it came to you, he would raise his voice until no words came out.
Your blood was boiling at assumptions he made. “You don’t know what I went through! You won’t ever know!” You exclaimed, feeling your eyes burn tears ready to spill.
“Your right, I won’t ever know.” He said with a scary calmness. “I don’t want to know either. You’re selfish for running away, leaving us. When you don’t want to deal with shit that’s what you do— run. Then what happens? We rescue you from whatever shit show you’re in. If it wasn’t an order from my high lady, I wouldn’t have come last night to your pity party.”
You were speechless, you could feel your stomach drop. Those were choice words he made, and each one was a stab to the stomach. He knew you hadn’t had a choice when you were married off to that monster. Azriel knew it wasn’t your fault that he went off and murdered your cousins. It wasn’t your fault his family was so scared of you for being too powerful so they had done terrible things to you. But he still threw it in your face as if it was your choice. You never had a choice. His face was expressionless again, “but anyways welcome home, Y/n.” His tone was void of any kindness as he brushed your shoulder passing you.
You could feel a couple tears finally slip down your flushed cheeks as you stood alone in the hall. Unsure of what had gone so wrong between Azriel and you for him to act so out of character. What made you want to get under his skin so bad that it only ended up with you hurting more. He had acted the same way before you followed Rhysand under the mountain, when he had tried to convince you not to go. He screamed, shouted, cried, and almost had his shadows restrain you, just so you wouldn’t leave. Now he wanted nothing to do with you.
You choked on the lump stuck in your throat, turning back to go to your room. When Mor was ready she knew where to find you. For now, you had decided it round two of your pity party.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
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Taglist: @rachelnicolee @tcris2020
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orchideous-nox · 8 months
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The Amazing Devil are underrated storytellers
Like I'm sure many people did, I discovered alt-folk band The Amazing Devil through Joey Batey as a fan of The Witcher. Someone on TikTok was talking about the song Fair and how the actor who plays Jaskier (or Dandelion, depending on preference of material) from The Witcher sang it.
Instantly, I knew I had to listen to this song and I sat with it on repeat for an hour, picking through references and laughing at how pure and simple the love conveyed in those words was. It's the kind of love you dream of, where your partner completes you and life without them seems impossible. A love that goes beyond you both, as if there was no choice but to fall for one another. It's not pretentious or impossible to understand. It's universal and I fell in love with it.
Months later, I found Battle Cries, a song of overlapping whimsies. It tells the tale of two lovers ending their relationship and trying to find pieces of calmness in the uproar of their breakup, comparing it to a war not just between each other but within themselves. There a metaphors deeply woven within the lyrics and each line is magic as Joey and Madeleine sing over each other, words occasionally syncing up, representing the way they struggle to feel in tune with each other at the end of their relationship.
Battle Cries lead me to Marbles, the story of a couple where one of them is suffering from memory loss, the trials and tribulations of watching the person you love forget who they are and who you are too. It is a beautifully told story that feels so genuine, making me wonder how close to home the inspiration was. This song is an absolute guarantee at tears while also making you laugh.
Ruin came to me next, as wells as Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious and The Horrors and The Wild, three songs with such incredibly different vibes that don't just need to be listened to but thoroughly devoured.
Finally, a song I can never praise enough, Inkpot Gods. This song brings together so many ideas and images I love. Again, it is heavy on its use of metaphors but contains one of my favourite references they have ever used. The song discusses the love you can hold for another person and the lengths you will go to so you can protect them. It talks of breaking generational expectations and being there for someone when they can't defend themselves.
The best part of Inkpot Gods, however, is the Lord of the Rings reference where Madeleine sings "you might not fear a man//but to a woman by the end you'll kneel and plead". This is popularly theorised to be about Eowyn in The Return of the King and the line "I am no man" she speaks as she ends her foe's life, a show of her strength not despite of her gender. Easily the best line of the trilogy to me, and hearing it in song form cements this, following it with "I'm more than what my mum told me", breaking this tradition what what a woman can or should be.
While Joey Batey was the draw to The Amazing Devil's music for me, Madeleine has kept me there, she has such a beautiful voice and her and Joey together have made some stunning music that I will always love. They tell these fantastic stories within a few minutes, creating characters worthy of epic tales and narratives so deep and complex it leaves you thinking for long after.
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summerlovingbaby · 2 months
Text
Cramps
Eijiro hadn’t heard from his girlfriend, Y/N all morning, which was strange. She always woke up early to read, and when she did she would text him good morning. Even on the weekend, and this weekend was supposed to be special. For the first time in months, their was no mortal dangers, no training exercises, the couple wasn’t dodging mortar fires, or bombs, or rescuing civilians from collapsing buildings.
He didn’t get a text and it was nearly noon.Y/N was on her period, and though her cramps were usually manageable, today she woke up with an earsplitting headache. She knew it was the weekend and was thankful that she had no prior engagements, so she ignored the violent churning in her stomach, stumbled her way to the bathroom. Blindly felt around the medicine cabinet grabbed Advil and took a handful of pills before she closed her black out curtains, crawled between her sheets and placed a pillow over her head, hoping the pressure would push away the headache.
She was unable to think about the oddities of her situation. Her period was on its final day, it was technically on its final day yesterday, and she expected only spotting today. Her PMS symptoms were never as horrific as they could have been, she never had headaches, and though her cramps wer awful it was nothing that couldn’t be managed with a heating pad and some painkillers couldn’t fix.
But this pain was deep in her stomach, and was shooting painful jabs in her stomach, her head hurt something awful and she wanted nothing more than to hide under her covers and for it to go away. She slept off her headache for 45 minutes before a gentle knocking on the door woke her up.
Eijiro knocked twice before he heard the bed groan, signaling that she had gotten up. He checked his watch, it was nearly 1PM in the afternoon, the door slowly opened and a blanket covered mound peeked their head out, he couldn’t helpbut smile. Y/N had always been particularly shy, but this was a new extent.
“ Hello,” he whispered quietly, like he was afraid of spooking an afraid animal, she used the blanket to block out the light, “ You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, “ Its just bright,” she said, “ And I have a headache,” she added on. Eijoro cocked his head to the side with confusion. Y/N never got headaches, unless she went days without eating, and after a particular situation where she forgot to eat for 2 whole days, he was always there to make sure that she ate at least 600 calories worth in granola bars a day. “ My periods kicking my ass,” she added hoping he would understand.
Eijoro nodded sympathetically, he would never understand the trials and tribulations of being a girl, bleed painfully for days on end, but he was always sympathetic to their plight. He had 2 sisters who cried alot watching nature documentaries on penguins who mate for life. Life was hardcore enough on it its own, but adding bleeding on top of it was metal as hell.
“ You feel up to lunch?”
Y/N shook her head and looked back at her bed, she wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and rot away the day. “ I just want to lie down,” she said quietly.
Eijiro nodded and looked at Y/N sadly. He missed his girlfriend, they had a busy week and hardly seen eachother the past week, barley having the chance for more than a glance and Y/N really wanted to have sex with him, her hormones were driving her up the wall and she wanted nothing more than to jump his bones, but felt too grossed to be touched. Eijiro studied her face, as she chewed on her bottom lip and hesitated opening her mouth.
“ Can I stay with you?” he offered, and Y/N quickly obliged, opening the door wide enough for him to follow her through the door. He placed a hand on the small of his back and guided her to her bed, pulled back the mountain of blankets and watched as she hid beneath them, he then made himself comfortable by sitting down. He outstretched his legs and leaned back on the headboard and watched as Y/N placed her head on his upper thigh and she fell into a vague sleep state.
It only lasted a few minutes before the stomach pain hit her in the gut and she sat instantly upwards, doubled oever and vomited over the edge of her bed. The sight of her vomit sent her spiraling, she already felt gross, and now she had thrown up in front of her boyfriend, she couldn’t wallow in her pity for long because a familiar horrible feeling was rising in her chest again, and she doubled over and threw up once more.
Eijiro had stood up by then, Y/N expected him to leave, she was in such a state of disrepair. Her hair was a birds nest, and her clothes were old and wrinkled, not to mention she just upchucked two times in front of him, she covered her mouth and spared him a cautionary glance at Ejiro, to her surprise didn’t look digusted, just vageluly confused and concerned. She opened her mouth and muttered a vague apology before the ground got closer to her head very very quickly.
She woke up what she estimated was an hour later, in a strangely calm emergency room, she was hooked up to all kinds of monitors with a very concerned Eijiro brushing hair out of her face and fretting over the thickness of the blanket, while her closest friends watched. If he was trying to be calm it wasn’t working because he frequently peaked his head out of the curtiains until a doctor showed up.
She wanted to hide away from the embarrassment of it all. All her friends drug themselves to an ER because Y/N couldn’t handle her stomach pain without throwing up and blacking out, and she wanted to go home. She was never a fan of hospitals, her brother died in one two years ago and it was awful. Now every time she’s in a hospital she smells the clean sterile smell and the light blue walls and she remembers that gut-sinking feeling when her brother died, and all of a sudden her stomach pain and headache seemed bearable enough to be anywhere else but a hospital.
“ I wanna go home,” she whispered, Bakugo muttered something and fretted over the blanket and Denki took a phone call in the hall.
“ I know, just wait a second,” he whispered, “ Denki’s been calling your parents,” he said.
“ Don’t-”
“Shut up, its happening,” he scolded, “ Aizawa is on his way, you need an adult here for medical purposes until your parents get here.”
Her parents were on a trip to the States, and they weren’t getting here anytime soon. Before she could explain a man in blue scrubs with a clipboard jerked back the curtain hard, scribbling madly on his clipboard.
“ So you’re hear today because you have stomach pains, threw up and passed out?” he asked reading it off the clipboard, not bothering to look up.
Y/N nodded, “ Yeah, it’s not usually this bad,” she said quietly. 
This seemed to peak his interest because he clicked his pen closed and finally looked up, “ This has happened before?”
“ Well I thought the stomach pain was just cramps, but I don’t think so because my period technically ended yesterday, and my cramps are usually manageable, and I never get headaches, and last time I threw up it was the stomach flu,” she said.
He sighed annoyed and took a few steps towards her, “ So you’re hear for period related stomach pains,” he sighed, “ And you want me to?”
Y/N blinked at him a few times, too stunned to speak. Eijoro had been waiting for a doctor for at least an hour, and was only met with incompetence, “ An exam would be nice?” he said.
“ I mean there really is no point, you said it yourself its PMS related pain, I mean are you experiencing any stress?” he asked begrudgingly.
“ We go to UA, stress is what we signed up for.” Bakugou interrupted. Denki stopped trying to call her parents, and instead listened in to the conversation.
“ Stress has been known to make period pain less tolerable, your BP is normal, you seem fine, I suggest moving to a less stressful environment, and maybe seeing at a nurse will be here in a few minutes to discharge you?”
The notion of leaving in this horrible pain sent her sprailing, she was overwhelmed tired and in pain and could no longer stand the idea of being left untreated and was unable to fight back the tears that she had been holding onto since this morning, Bakugou stroked her hair to calm her, but it wasn’t working, he looked at the monitor where her blood pressure suddenly spiked.
The doctor looked at the monitor then back at her, “ How about we try to calm down?” he said condescendingly, “ Your hysterics are spiking your blood pressure.”
Eijiro shook his head, he had no intention of going anywhere. “ We aren’t leaving, I want another doctor,” he demanded.
“ You’re requesting someone else?” he asked.
“ YES,” he raised his voice and rung his hands in the air, “ I WANT ANOTHER DOCTOR, OR A NURSE, OR SOMEONE WHO IS MORE COMPETENT THAN YOU-,”
His shouting got the attention of a passing-by doctor, who poked her head through the curtain, her intrusion didn’t stop Eijiros ranting.
“ YOU DIDN’T EVEN EXAMINE HER, OR LOOK AT HER CHART OR DO ANYTHING THAT EVEN REMOTELY REQUIRES A MEDICAL DEGREE, SHE IS ON HER PEORID AND REGARDLESS IF THAT PAIN IS RELATED TO THAT OR NOT SHE NEEDS HELP BECAUSE IT SHOULD NOT BE OKAY TO THROW UP AND PASS OUT SO FIND SOMEONE TO EITHER HELP HER OR FIND SOMEONE ELSE WHO WILL.”
His shouting made Y/N cry more, he never yelled and when he did it was always frightening. She wanted to go home and sleeep it off, she wanted to be anythere but this hospital with its blue walls and antispetic smell.
The doctor balked at him with his mouth open, and the lady stepped through the curtain with a plastered smile on her face. “ What seems to be the issue here?” she asked,  “ My name is Dr. Ross.”
“Well Dr. Ross, my girlfriend had really bad cramps this morning and a headache, and around 4ish she threw up 2 times and kept passing out, and I know that you think that this is just period related pain but I don’t think so, they’ve never been this bad,” Eijiro began to explain to Dr. Ross who walked to Y/N and fiddled with the monitor.
“ This bozo didn’t even examin her-” Bakugou interjected.
This peaked Dr. Ross’s interest because she shot the doctor a deadly glare and snatched the clipboard from him, and read over her chart.
“ It says here that you were in the hospital 3 months ago, was that for abdominal pain or?” she smiled.
“ I broke 3 ribs and dislocated my shoulder fighting someone,” the doctor lifted a brow, “ You should have seen the other guy,” she added.
“ Is it okay if I palpate your stomach?” she asked.
Y/N meekly nodded, and Eijoro finished glaring at the doctor long enough to watch Dr. Rosses careful hands as she gently massaged her stomach, trying to ignore the pain as she pushed down around her stomach, Y/N then groaned loudly as she removed her pain.
Dr. Ross unhooked the portable ultrasound from the heart monitor quickly, “ And the pain started?”
“ This morning,” she groaned.
Dr Ross squeezed a quarter size of cool jelly on her stomach, and pressed the ultra sound wand firmly on her stomach than made a vaguely dissatisfied clucking noise, her eyebrows squinted together, before they raised suddenly, then with a grim look on her face she looked over her shoulder at the doctor, who still stood with his arms crossed over his chest and was looking rather annoyed. She removed the wand and Y/N groaned loudly, the pain was worse than it was with stomach pressure.
“ Book an OR,” she said grimly, then she turned back to Y/N who had now resulyed on holding her stomach and chewing her bottom because of the pain. “ It looks like her appendix burst a few hours ago,” she said. “ And because it went untreated for so long it turned into peritonitis, and that is beginning to turn into sepsis,” she explained calmly. “Without surgical intervention, she will die, so we need to take her to surgery right away.”
“ Sepsis?” 
“ Yes, it seems like her appendix burst right before she threw up, and because it went untreated for hours, because an incompetent doctor,” she tossed a disapproving glance over her shoulder at the doctor, “because she sat in a hospital for hours bleeding out into her abdomen because you thought her pain was made up and you thought she was hysterical, because you didn’t give her the basic standard of treatment, like an exam, she has to have emergency surgery.”
Y/N began to sob, the last thing she wanted was surgery, and apparently she might die. It was alot to handle in 5 minutes.
Before Y/N could protest she was being wheeled out of the room, down hallways that smelled like cleaning supplies, and sterile baby blue walls. She cried for Eijoro but he was no where to be found, she didn’t want surgery, her brother went to surgery and now he was was dead.
Eijoro paced around the room listly, before a nurse led them to a waiting room, then he paced around that one frequently checking the time. Denki didn’t understand his nerves, it was just an appendix, lots of people didn’t have appendix, he one read on a article that it was a common surgery.
“ It’s okay, most people have their appendixes out,” Denki said.
“ She has sepsis,” Eijiro said, “ that means her organs are dying because her burst appendix gave her an infection, her organs are dying because she sat in that ER for hours, and now she might die, and I didn’t help her,” he sighed, finally collapsing in a chair.
“ Hey, you did what you could. That clown of a doctor tried to send her home, but you stayed and you fought for her,” he said, his words were seldom comfort so they waited in silence until Dr. Ross took them to a recovery room where Y/N was lying down in a hospital bed, loopy from all the anesthesia which was starting to wear off.
She smiled at the sight of him, her perfect handsome boyfriend, who was pulled aside by the doctor and wad given instructions about her post-operative care. She would need to stay at the hospital for 4 nights of observation due to the infection, though they were positive that she would recover.
“ You did good today, I know you probably felt helpless watching her in so much pain, but you fought for her when people tried to dismiss her, you fought for her,” she said.
Eijiro spent the next few days spoon deeding her icecream and cuddling while watching Gilmore Girls reruns on the shitty hospital TV.
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cyberfreaky · 1 year
Text
𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
— writing prompt: jake & reader have an argument over how he treats lo’ak.
— notes: this is set during atwow, widowed!jake & fem!metkayina. reader and jake don’t have an established relationship, they have a close dynamic lmaowjdiens
sngel = garbage
part two.
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there was an eerie silence that had fallen in your marui pod. the discomfort was made worse with the way jake aggressively sharpened his blade, crouched down in the corner with a face of annoyance. you hadn’t dared to say anything in fear of potentially setting him off into a storm of rage — though it seemed that even the drop of a needle could throw him over the edge.
you’d secretly witnessed jake yelling at lo’ak earlier on for something so insignificant. you had seen how the younger boy’s expression was filled with such profound sadness, barely able to keep eye contact with his father while being scolded harshly. you felt hopeless in the moment, and even more so as the hours had passed.
you were aware that jake was dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a single parent, he had already told you the story about the unfortunate death of his mate. but this did not excuse his behaviour — especially since this was not the first instance of him raising his voice unfairly at lo’ak.
“what is it?”
the sound of jake’s thunderous voice broke you from your trance. you hesitantly look up and notice him glaring balefully at you, his demeanour adding to the existing tension between you both. “don’t know what you’re talking about.” you shrugged.
“don’t make me ask again.” jake seethed, dropping his equipment to the ground.
your dark brows knitted with confusion. was he threatening you? you quickly climbed to your feet and tilted your head to the side questionably. “or what?”
jake was almost taken aback by your stance. he followed suite and stood up, taking a few steps forward as he continued to stare at you with darkened eyes. “don’t get smart, kid. m’not in the mood.”
“you really wanna know what’s on my mind?” you challenged him.
“it’s what i asked, wasn’t it?”
at this point, jake was towering over you. his enraged gaze never faltered, it burned deeper into your soul as he looked down upon you — impatiently awaiting your answer. you were not intimidated by his presence one bit, in fact, his attempt to scare you into a confession was pointless. his ego was a trait of his you truly despised, and it was fuelling the slow burning resentment you were beginning to feel towards him.
“stop treating your son like sngel.” you spat, meeting his stare with an equally malefic glare. “you should never yell at your child like that.”
jake’s jaw clenched at your words. he was struggling to adhere to the fact that you had the audacity to even speak about how he spoke to his children. could it be the complexities of your ‘relationship’ had somehow opened up a door to allow you to critique his parenting? had he somehow given you leeway to make such a ludicrous comment? he was aware you had a mouth on you — but he didn’t think you’d outright cross personal boundaries.
“you have no place to say how i parent my kid.”
you looked at him baffled. jake was so oblivious to his own poor behaviour, you began to question why you even bothered to say anything. “you’re right, it’s not my place.” you stormed past him and grabbed his tools from the ground, throwing them angrily to jake’s feet. “take your stuff and get out.”
he laughed with disbelief, placing a frustrated hand to his temple. “ya’ gonna throw me out? even though you’re the one who started this?” he collected his things from the floor, shaking his head in discontent. “i don’t need this shit from you.”
“then leave!” you point towards the entrance of your pod. “go scream at your kids again, jake. show them what a great father you are!”
for a moment, you noticed the fury in his face contort into an empty look of hurt. it was as if your venomous tone had pierced through his chest, hitting him in the most painful spot imaginable. jake could only stare at you blankly before silently exiting, the numbness that settled into his body made him unable to conjure up any kind of argument. the fact that you had implied he was a terrible father was enough to break him — the one thing he prided himself in had been tainted.
you held your composure as you watched him leave, despite the rush of guilt that was rapidly emerging into your tummy. the remaining of your night was spent regretting everything you had said to him.
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— all rights reserved ©️ cyberfreaky (2023) do not repost, translate or copy my work without given permission.
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bird-inacage · 11 months
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Love in the Air: The Significance of Security to Sky
This moment folks. I need to talk about it. I already gave it an honourable mention, but I want to dissect why Sky's reaction here spoke volumes - and how the significance of security (aka marriage) is so important as a conclusion to the Prapaisky story.
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When we first meet Sky, he's still wading through the shadow of his abuse. The prolonged aftereffects which could potentially continue for the foreseeable future, affecting his overall happiness and ability to love again.
Now fast forward to this expression we see on Sky's face during the wedding. Despite all the trials and tribulations, despite thinking he might never overcome those demons - I saw in his expression - an echo of the 'young Sky' again. The innocence in his smile. The giddy wholesomeness which is often found in young 'puppy' love. Eagerness and anticipation for things to come. Hopeful excitement which isn't marred or jaded by the toil of hardship. An expression that contained an immense degree of appreciation and relief, a 'thank god you found me' relief. A 'close-to-tears' relief that comes with finally being seen and/or valued. The point is, that expression is very similar to the way he'd looked at Gun before everything that followed.
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That's the expression of a boy who has fully and willingly opened their heart to another. And here it is again. On his wedding day. Sky has somehow managed to restore some of that innocence in love he lost.
Most of Sky's anxieties can be attributed to a lack of safety (such as difficulty with trust, doubt in stability, worry of being taken advantage of, insecurity in his self-worth). This all manifests from a very simple and basic human instinct we all possess - and that is to feel safe. When someone so intimately close to you betrays you in the worst way imaginable, they've effectively stripped any sense of safety away from you by force. This is the state in which Prapai finds Sky in at the start of the series.
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I've talked many times before about how Prapai fulfils a 'protector' role incredibly well. But in fact his way of handling Sky goes beyond protection. He's very adept at creating a safe space around Sky, as well as allowing Sky to feel safe when he's with him. And that's not only by loving Sky, but truly caring for Sky's wellbeing and his basic needs. Whether that's ensuring he eats, making sure he rests, or reminding Sky he doesn't need to suffer alone. This is achieved by listening, by not overstepping, by holding back, by being patient, by being gentle. And eventually escalates to Prapai 'removing' Gun as a threat. The very genesis of Sky's suffering and the very person who robbed Sky of his safety, which Prapai had been working so hard to rebuild.
Safety comes first before all else, due to safety being intrinsically linked to survival. It's only once you've established safety, that you can add security - further measures to 'ensure' this safety lasts as long as possible.
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This is where Prapai's intentions for marrying Sky (other than the most obvious) are really worth considering. By his very character, our boy Prapai famously never half-asses anything. He's all in, all the time. He wants to provide everything humanly possible to the person he loves, and that involves giving Sky the highest form of security he can offer, which is by marrying him. Binding them in name, on paper, as well as on all remaining principles.
For most people, the fine print and diplomacy of marriage is not particularly romantic. But in this case it's exactly the functionality and formality of marriage that will provide Sky with the security Prapai seeks. Prapai possesses privilege. And that privilege allows him access to means he can extend to Sky. So marrying Sky means: 'I will be responsible for you. What's mine is now yours'. 'If anything happens to me, you have everything I have.' 'I now legally have the permission and the right to fully take care of you.'
This isn't essential to Sky. He already has Prapai by his side, which is plenty as far as he's concerned. He doesn't need or desire anything else. But Prapai wants to. Because Prapai is thinking about the future - their future. He is always anticipating what Sky needs or may need before Sky does for himself. Sky's perspective has always been 'you've done enough, this is enough', whereas Prapai's perspective is 'what else can I do?' At first Prapai was just trying to ensure Sky's basic needs were met and now that he's achieved that, what's next? All of this is an attempt to safeguard the person he loves and their future together. It's the devotion in such an act, the restless pursuit of such a cause that means so very much to Sky. Because he knows (as do we) - that Prapai would do anything for him.
And that - that is what we call marriage material folks.
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sacredthethreadgvf · 4 months
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Limelight |Jake Kiszka x Reader | Prologue
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A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back at it..you know me, ideas pop into my head out of the blue and occasionally we go on a journey together. Please note that while this follows the band and Jake closely this is a fictional story. I currently do not have a posting schedule or a plan on how many parts this will be so bare with me !! As always, I appreciate alllll the feedback and love chatting about stories with you all ! I cannot wait to see where yet another enemies to lovers trope takes us! A very special shout out to @joshym for hyping me up over this story and being a beta reader for this upcoming series (I appreciate you so so much!!). This is just a little prologue to start us off on our journey. MINORS DNI this series !!! This will contain smut at one point!
Summary: Jake Kiszka is a pain in the ass to put it in simple terms. But you loved your job, you actually needed this job more than anything. However, shining shoes, refilling water, folding towels, applying eyeliner, etc. was not exactly on your agenda. Neither was falling in love with the type of man you usually steered far, far away from but yet here we are. Being Jake Kiszka's personal assistant has brought trials and tribulations beyond belief but maybe, just maybe, they were worth it all in the end.
Prologue Warnings: None. Unless you want to count swearing?
Limelight. 
Between both aspiring artists and fans alike, the chase and the thrill of the limelight could not be beat. 
You craved the limelight personally, more than the average fan of music. You wanted a taste of it for yourself ever since you were young but being the center of public attention? Well, scared the hell out of you. So you settled for a different type of “Limelight”. The type of limelight that brought along all of the green rooms, the thrills, the music so loud and close you wouldn’t be able to hear for days following the concert. You craved to just be close to your favorite musicians without having to pay a pretty penny. You craved the backstage limelight. 
You had applied at ReverbPR for a simple assistant job to navigate your way through the music industry to make a name for yourself. You went to college to be a producer of music but found it hard as a young girl fresh out of college with little to no experience to have anyone take you seriously in Nashville. So you settled to be an executive assistant for frontmen, guitar and bass players and drummers alike in hopes to market yourself to these artists to then eventually work with them one on one with their new albums. 
You were working away at your profile on LinkedIn in a little coffee shop early on a Monday morning when you got the call from your boss Brian. 
“Pack your bags, I found a new client for you.” 
Your heart raced from excitement. Things with your previous client did not work out well for you. You had been paired up with an up and coming rock band who’s misogynistic ways both on stage and off made it a very uncomfortable work situation for yourself that was taking a toll on you mentally. You had called Brian after a month and begged him to pair you with someone else. To your surprise he agreed and sent your replacement to the band and thankfully, that was the last you heard of them. 
So when you heard from Brian you were now paired yet again with an up and coming rock band of young men, your heart sank and your blood pulsed in your ears.  But Brian had assured you that this band was different and you wouldn’t be working with all of the band members, just one this time. 
Higher following on social media and a good reputation. 
So you agreed but had a mind to keep your guard up just in case. 
That night, following a few glasses of wine, you lifted your roommate's cat off of your lap. You ignored the soft protests that sweet little Isabel made and reached out for your laptop sitting on the coffee table. You typed ‘GRETA VAN FLEET’ into your browser and fell into a deep dive on the quartet from Michigan and their rise to fame. 
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away from you, a young guitarist was preparing for a night of revelry. 
“Why do you always have to be such a dick dude?!” Jake exasperated, shooting a glare across the room to his better half. Actually, lesser half in the eyes of Jake at this given moment. 
Jake's arms were crossed against his chest and he was leaning against a table. His hands were preoccupied with a cup of wine and a little black eyeliner pencil that was about to go to waste. 
“Because brother Jake,” Josh paused and closed his eyes as his assistant, Rose, spread silver glitter across his eyelids. “Beauty like mine takes time! My rhinestones aren’t even done yet.” 
He closed his eyes again, avoiding the sharp glare from Jake. 
“It's not going to take long to do two little black lines under my eyelids.” Jake threw a hand in the air. 
He could tell Josh was getting irritated quickly as Jake was interfering with his “Quiet Time” pre stage ritual bullshit. “Exactly. You can do it yourself.” 
“Josh,'' Rose protested softly. “It really won’t take me that long.” Josh’s eyes popped open in a warning his sweet assistant Rose then back to Jake as if to say ‘Get the fuck out of my dressing room’.
Jake rolled his eyes. “What fucking ever. I’ll get my own damn assistant then and you won’t be able to steal them.” 
As he walked back to his own dressing room clad in his silver stage suit, the faint sounds of fans chanting “GRETA! GRETA! GRETA!” filled his ears. His senses were heightened. No matter how many times he’s been on stage. No matter how many pep talks he has given himself before, he will never shake the butterflies. 
Now to add to the butterflies was pure rage. A sense of frustration with his twin and he didn’t even have time to do his goddamn eyeliner. 
He made a plan in his head to talk to his manager about it tomorrow. It was time he had his own damn help around here.
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lendeah · 5 months
Text
After the Weave 1.
series masterlist
Summary:
After defeating the Nether Brain, Gale makes a promise to Tav: he will move to Waterdeep and marry her. However, he breaks his pledge when he feels the pull of his former goddess, Mystra, and leaves to forge the Karsus Crown and become a god, which leaves Tav feeling betrayed and alone.
Astarion, now fully consumed by the shadows, offers Tav a new mission. Together, they try to rebuild themselves and move on from their past. As they rely on each other in unexpected ways, they find a new sense of purpose and meaning, and realize that fate will always lead you back to where you belong.
Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav, past Gale x OFC!Tav
Tags: Angst, Drinking to Cope, References to Depression, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Emotional Baggage, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Post-Break Up, Tav finds herself again with Astarion, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Word count: 4.4k
Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, language.
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Being with him was like being enveloped in a warm, golden glow; his presence adding vibrancy and light to every moment. Even in the bleakest moments, when I felt lost in the chaos of battle, he remained a constant beacon of hope and love. His strong arms always provided support and comfort, our souls intertwining in ways I never thought possible. But every now and then, when the chaos around us subsided and we had a moment of peace, Gale would pull me away from the rest of our troop. We would find a quiet spot, away from prying eyes, and just be together. In those moments, it was like the rest of the world didn't exist. It was just him and me.
"With you, I forget my goddess. I love you" he had whispered in my ear, under a sea of stars. And in that moment, it felt like all of my doubts and fears disappeared. Gale's love for me was real and true; it was something worth holding onto amidst the chaos of war.
So as we stood victorious over the defeated Brain, I turned to the wizard with a triumphant smile and tears streaming down my cheeks. This was what we had risked our lives for, what we had fought and bled for.
"Beloved," Gale whispered, his voice brimming with emotion. "We have faced countless perils together, defying fate itself. Our love has withstood trials and tribulations that most would crumble under. I cannot fathom another day without you by my side."He took a step closer, our bodies gravitating towards each other as if pulled by an invisible force.
The crashing waves and salty sea air filled their lungs as they stood on the decks of the city, overlooking the ocean. The sun was setting in a blaze of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over our faces. "Let us leave this place," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We should go back home to Waterdeep. We can build a life together, away from the battles and the constant threat of danger. We can find solace in each other's arms, and create a haven where love and peace reign supreme." he took a deep breath, mustering the courage to add, "Let's get married." His words resonated deep within my soul, stirring a longing I hadn't realized was there. Yes, Waterdeep, the city of wonders and dreams, seemed like the perfect place to start our new chapter.
"Yes," I whispered, the word escaping my lips like a fervent prayer. "I'd be honored to marry you, Gale Dekarios."
He took me that same night, slow and deliberate, as if we had all the time in the world. As we laid in each other's arms, the the warm body next to mine, our intertwined hands, and synchronized breaths felt like an unbreakable bond, our future stretching out before us like an endless summer day. And through the days following the battle, it did. Helping reconstruct buildings, tending the wounded, and giving food and shelter to those in need; everything was keeping us so busy that I didn't notice the faraway look in his eyes. He still held me close at night, his touch as loving as ever, but something seemed to be weighing heavily on his mind.
One morning, exactly one week after the last battle, when my hand reached out instinctively to the side of the bed where Gale used to lay, I felt coldness that wasn't there before. The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, but the silence revealed a very different reality. A heavy feeling settled in my chest as I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat. My eyes scanned our small tent frantically, searching for any sign of him, but all that remained was a single letter addressed to me. Its edges were slightly crumpled, evidence of many folds and unfolding during long nights. With trembling hands, I opened it and read every word carefully, trying to hold onto every piece of him that I could.
To my love
The crown is somewhere in the Chionthar. If I salvage the stones I can reforge it. Only then can I attain the power to protect us from all harm, my love. We could rule together, you as my goddess by my side as I ascend to godhood. I know I pledged to forsake my past for you, but now I must break that vow. The weight of this curse is too heavy for me to bear alone, and I cannot bear the thought of living with it forever. I need to confront her, to stand as her equal this time. I will do everything in my power to surpass her, to make up for all the wrongs she has done, even if it means leaving you behind. But you must understand that if I am successful, I will return to you and make up for all the time we have lost. Please hold onto hope and know that my heart aches with every step I take away from you.
Farewell, my love, until we can be reunited once again.
My tears turned into a relentless stream, blurring the words on Gale's letter as I read it for what felt like the hundredth time. Each phrase cut deeper than the last, carving painful wounds that would never heal. How could he do this to me? Betrayal and rage consumed me as I struggled to understand how the person who had asked me to marry him barely days before could turn their back on it for the sake of power and vengeance.
After that, everything became a blur. I found myself falling into a rhythm of constant busyness. I would wake up at the crack of dawn and immediately begin tackling the tasks that awaited me. And while it brought me some sense of fulfillment to help those in need, it also served as a convenient distraction from Gale's absence and his quest for power. If I kept myself busy enough, I wouldn't have time to dwell on my shattered relationship with Gale, on the nightmares that plagued my mind with the blood and death I had been through in the last year.
I had become known as the go-to person for any problem, big or small. I made sure to accept every task that came my way, no matter how difficult or time-consuming it may have been. Whether it was helping someone mend their broken roof or comforting a grieving family, I threw myself into each task with determination and purpose. But it wasn't just physical tasks that occupied my time. Many villagers would come to me seeking advice or simply wanting someone to listen to their troubles. And so, in addition to being their physical savior, I became their emotional support as well. For that brief moment when they smiled or thanked me for my help, all the weight on my shoulders lifted and for just a moment, everything felt okay again. Yet, behind my forced smile and empathetic words lay the reality of my shattered existence, haunted each night by the memories of my past as the darkness enveloped me.
Each night, I awoke drenched in sweat, my mind haunted by visions of cruel emperors, slaughtered gnomes, and fallen tieflings. The stench of death clung to me, as if the blood was still fresh on my hands. And the nightmare continued, as I woke up alone in a dirty basement, with no one to turn to. So it became my mission not to sleep; if I was busy and distracted, I didn't have time to think about Gale or death. And if my actions were making other people happy in the process, then everyone won.
However, as the days passed, I could feel myself becoming more and more distant from my friends. With Halsin, Wyll and Karlach gone, Lae'zel busy settling her people in the city, Shadowheart tirelessly rebuilding Selûne's temple, and Astarion retreating into the shadows, I felt completely alone. I found myself longing for their company, for the familiar banter and laughter we used to share. But every time I even attempted to reach out to them, something held me back. Maybe it was fear of being a burden or just not wanting to face my own emotions by confronting theirs. And even on those few occasions I did meet with Lae'zel or Shadowheart, I couldn't bring myself to tell them about Gale's letter or how much it hurt me because I couldn't bear to see their pity or judgment.
"He's just traveling. You know him, always seeking knowledge!" I lied through gritted teeth.
But deep down, I knew that the lie was eating away at my soul. The truth was too painful to voice out loud, even to my closest companions.
So, I buried my agony in feeling helpful, as I always did. I worked tirelessly to provide aid to those who had lost their homes and loved ones. I took on more tasks, stayed up later, and pushed myself beyond my limits. But it seemed like the harder I tried to deny my emotions, the louder they screamed for attention. My exhaustion finally caught up to me, both physically and mentally. One day, as I was helping a family rebuild their home after a devastating fire, I collapsed from exhaustion. The family helped me, of course, but word quickly spread that I had fallen ill. People began to avoid me, their once-welcoming demeanor turning cold and distant. They no longer sought out my help or accepted any aid I offered. This only added to my mounting frustration and despair, until finally, I reached my breaking point.
With nothing but time on my hands, the memories of Gale flooded back with a force that knocked me off balance. All those moments we shared flashed before my eyes in vivid detail – our first meeting on the portal, our adventures in the underdark, where we had first kissed, him asking to marry me... It was like ripping open an old wound that never fully healed. But even worse were the memories of slashing, cutting, severing flesh, of fresh blood and dead bodies. I needed another distraction; and that distraction came in the form of wine and rum. But even as I drowned my sorrows in ale, I knew it was a temporary escape. The sweet burn of alcohol numbed the pain for a little while, but it always came back tenfold once the drinks wore off. Before long, I found myself frequenting taverns more and more often. It was my new coping mechanism, my escape from reality. With each passing day, I could feel myself spiraling deeper into despair and self-pity.
One night, as I stumbled out of yet another tavern, swaying on unsteady legs, the piercing sound of my name being called cut through the fog of alcohol-induced numbness.
"Elara, what-?" The voice was familiar and filled with concern. "Oh gosh... he has left for good, hasn't he?" the tone was gentle but firm.
My dizzy eyes can make up a silver updo and tan skin. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I glance over at Shadowheart. Her usually warm and welcoming expression was replaced by a mix of concern and disappointment.
I let out a bitter laugh before taking another swig of rum. "No shit," my words are slurred and barely coherent. "I can't believe you really bought into that whole traveling bullshit."
Shadowheart's expression shifts from concern to irritation as she leans closer to me. "Don't you dare mock me," she hisses. "You know as well as I do that something is wrong with you."
I smile grimly
"Oh, so now you care?" I say, trying to glare at Shadowheart through bleary eyes. "You have been away for months and it's only now you decide to play the savior card."
Shadowheart's expression darkened at my words, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. But I am too angry, too drunk, to care.
"Well, I'm doing just fine," I continue, taking another long sip of my drink. "So why don't you return to your temple or whatever shithole you came from and leave me alone."
She rolls her eyes.
"Yes. Of course, you're doing fine. You're so fine that I found you lying in a tavern, wallowing in self-pity, drunk off your ass. Clearly the picture of good health and sound mind."
I scoffed, staring at Shadowheart with glazed eyes. "What do you know about me? About what I've been through?" My words slurred together, fueled by the mixture of anger and alcohol coursing through my veins. "You think you can just waltz back into my life and judge me? Well, you can't. You have no idea what it feels like to be abandoned by the person you love."
Shadowheart's brows furrowed, her normally composed demeanor faltering for a moment. "I do know" she snapped "In fact, the person I love is all the way down in the freaking avernus!"
The word hung in the air between us, the weight of its significance crashing down on me like a heavy stone. I stare at Shadowheart, the alcohol dulling my senses but unable to numb the pang of guilt in my chest. She's right - I hadn't even considered what she must be going through, separated from Karlach.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, lowering my eyes in shame.
Shadowheart's expression softens slightly.
"It's alright. I know you're hurting." She pauses, choosing her next words carefully. "But drinking yourself to death won't make the pain go away. It will only make things worse."
I struggle to keep my mouth shut, but my stubbornness gets the best of me and I shake my head defiantly. "I don't care," I mutter through clenched teeth, taking another long sip of my drink. But deep down, I know that's a lie. All I want is to forget, but part of me knows that I can't just push these feelings away so easily.
Shadowheart sighs and reaches to grab my hand.
"Listen to me," she says firmly, looking me in the eyes with a determined gaze. "I know how hard this is for you. But you can't give up like this. We need you - your friends need you."
A surge of anger rises within me at her words, and I jerk my hand away from hers.
"Don't talk to me about friends," I snap bitterly. "Where were my friends when I needed them? Everyone left." I choke "Everyone always leaves."
Shadowheart's face creases "We were all dealing with grief in our own ways."
I scoff and take another gulp of my drink.
"Grief? Is that what you call it? How convenient."
Shadowheart's eyes narrow slightly at my accusation, but she keeps her composure. "I never abandoned you," she says firmly."None of us did. We were worried about you."
I let out a bitter laugh.
"Sure, you were all so worried."
After a long moment, she lets out an exhausted sigh, seemingly coming to terms with the fact that I will not budge on my decision. "You know what? Fine. Drink yourself into oblivion," she says with a resigned tone. "But just know that when you're ready to face reality, we'll be waiting." Slowly, she turns and leaves the dimly lit street.
----------------------------------------------
Several days later, I find myself in a similar situation, but at a different place. I wanted to ensure that none of the others will attempt to track me down. While Shadowheart's words still hangered in my mind, I couldn't help but feel shame at the person I have become. It was hard to admit that I needed their help. Accepting it would mean admitting defeat and acknowledging that I hit rock bottom. But the hardest part was accepting that Gale would never come back to me, enduring the nightmares without any ale to numb them.
I sit alone at a table in the corner, watching the other clients as they laugh and drink with their companions. I envy their untroubled attitude and wish I could join in on their happiness. But deep down, I know that my grief is consuming me.
A group of rowdy half-orcs stumble over to my table, clearly drunk and looking for trouble. I try to ignore them, hoping they will just pass by. But instead, they stop right beside me and leer down at me with malicious grins.
"Looks like we found ourselves a little present," one of them slurs, gesturing towards me with his mug.
Another one takes a step closer and smirks at my face, his breath reeking of alcohol. "Look at her, all alone and pathetic."
My hands grip the edge of the table tightly as I feel a surge of anger rising within me. If I had my magic... But I take a deep breath and try to keep my voice steady as I respond,"There is nothing here for you."
The orcs, however, don't seem to care about my words as they continue to make crude comments about my appearance.
"All those scars, what are you? A mercenary?" one of them snorts, taking another step closer.
I feel a lump form in my throat as I struggle to hold back tears. Normally, I would have stood up for myself or even fought back, but tonight I am too lost in my own misery to even react. Suddenly, one of them reaches out and grabs my arm forcefully, causing me to flinch in fear.
"Come on, babe," he slurs. "I'll make you forget all about your troubles."
I start to panic, my mind racing as I search for a way out of this situation.
But before things can escalate any further, a strong hand grabs one of the men's wrists and forcefully pulls him away from me.
I look up to see a familiar face - For a second, I think it's going to be Shadowheart again, a flash of ivory hair aprearing in the corner of my eye. But then I realize it's someone much, much worse.
"Leave her alone," he growls, his voice full of authority.
It seems like they want to replicate, but once they take a look at his bared fangs, the half-orcs hesitate for a moment before backing off and leaving the tavern with grumbles and curses. When he turns his head back to me, Astarion has his usual smirk plastered over his face.
"Hello, my dear" His sharp features and piercing eyes send a shiver down my spine. "I see you've fallen quite low since our last encounter."
"What do you want, Astarion?" I spit out through gritted teeth, still shaken. Yet another companion to make fun of my state. Great.
Astarion sits down across from me, still wearing his smirk. "Just curious to see how you were coping without your favorite vampire comrade," he taunts, taking a sip of his drink. "Not very well, by the looks of you." he comments, gesturing towards my disheveled appearance. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment as I try to smooth out my hair and straighten my clothes. This is not how I wanted to be seen by any of my friends, let alone Astarion.
"Whatever" I reply nonchalantly, "Did Shadowheart tell you to come here?"
Astarion smirks, knowing exactly how to push my buttons. "No, no, she didn't. I just happened to be in the area and thought I'd check up on my dear friend." His words drip with sarcasm.
I scoff and take another swig of my drink, trying to ignore him.
"But really," Astarion leans in closer. "What happened? One minute we're all fighting side by side, and the next, you're drowning yourself in ale."
I glared back at him, feeling defensive. "None of your damn business."
He leaned back with a smug grin. "Ah, but I think it is."
I let out an exasperated sigh and take another swig of my drink, hoping he'll get the hint and leave me alone. But as usual, Astarion seems to enjoy getting under my skin. He reaches across the table and grabs my drink before I can protest.
"Hey!" I try to grab it back but he holds it out of reach.
"No more drinking for you," he says with a mock stern expression. "Now tell me what's going on."
"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine." I say, trying to dismiss the conversation.
Astarion's eyes narrow as he studies me intently. "Fine? You look like you've been through hell." he states bluntly.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair again, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over me. Maybe it's because of everything that has happened in the past few days or maybe it's just the alcohol finally catching up to me.
I glare daggers at him and finally relent with a heavy sigh. "Fine. Gale...he's gone."
"Gone?" Astarion's eyebrows raise in surprise. "As in dead?"
I shake my head sadly. "No...just...gone." My voice cracks on the last word and I have to take a deep breath to compose myself.
A look of understanding crosses Astarion's face and he nods slowly. "Well, it looks like he really went all in on his illusions this time."
I sigh, in no mood for jesting.
Astarion, sensing my lack of humor, leans back in his chair and adopts a more serious expression. "I'm sorry for your loss," he says sincerely, sliding my drink back across the table towards me.
I reluctantly take the drink and give him a nod of acknowledgment, appreciating his rare display of empathy."Thank you," I reply, my voice softening slightly. "I appreciate that."
He nods, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "Although, you know, at the end of the day it's Gale we are talking about, so is it really that big of a loss?"
I roll my eyes at Astarion's insensitive comment. "He was still a good boyfriend, despite his flaws," I reply pointedly.
"Hmm..." Astarion seems to be pondering this before shrugging nonchalantly. "Well, if you say so."
I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down before continuing. "Anyway, what do you want from me? You always have an ulterior motive for your visits"
Astarion smirks again, leaning back in his chair. "You know me so well," he drawls sarcastically. "I actually came here with an interesting proposition."
I raise an eyebrow skeptically. "What kind of proposition?"
He smirks, "You see, even though I excel at pretty much everything, it appears I'm struggling with the... spawn issue, if you know what I mean." He pauses dramatically, waiting for my reaction. "And being the hero that you are," he continues with a hint of condescension, "I was wondering if you could grace me with your whole knight in shining armor wisdom and help me out. Not that I actually need it, mind you. I just think even someone as skilled as myself needs guidance in this kind of situations." He leans back in his chair, with a relaxed smile.
"No"
His face falls dramatically. "What? What do you mean no?"
I roll my eyes.
"I mean exactly what I said," I reply firmly, not breaking eye contact with Astarion. "I have no interest in being your 'knight in shining armor' or helping you with any spawn issues. Find someone else to pester."
Astarion's face falls at my immediate rejection, but he quickly composes himself and leans forward with a suave smile. "Come on, darling," he purrs, reaching out to touch my hand. "Think of the thrill, the excitement of facing such a challenge together."He pauses and adds "just like the old times."
A wave of emotion washes over me at the mere thought. Memories of the past flood my mind, when Gale's presence provided a comforting weight on my side. When our group was at its strongest and most united, standing together against all odds. When everything seemed so easy, so at reach.
I reply with a bitter tone, "Those days are gone for good."
Astarion groans "Gosh, will you stop being so dramatic."
I raise an eyebrow at that. He is one to talk.
Astarion chuckles at my eyebrow raise, a playful glint in his eyes. "Touché, my dear." he admits. "But I'm serious about this, you know. We make a great team, you and I. And who knows, maybe hunting down vampire spawn will help distract you from your... sorrows."
I sigh, torn between the desire to wallow in my grief and the possibility of finding some kind of purpose again. I will admit, weeping and drinking myself to sleep every night does, while comforting, sounds sad. Plus, Astarion's proposition is tempting. At least that way I will have something other than ale to distract myself with.
"Fine," I finally relent, surprising both him and myself. "But Just because I'm agreeing to this doesn't mean I have forgotten you haven't reached out in months."
Astarion's smirk widens as he raises an eyebrow mockingly. "Oh, I would never dream of such a thing," he says with exaggerated sincerity."But let's just say, I did save your sorry behind from those hideous orcs. So I'd say we're even now."
I roll my eyes at his theatrics but can't help feeling a glimmer of anticipation deep within me. Perhaps there is still some fight left in me after all.
With a clap of his hands, he exclaims triumphantly,"It's decided then, dear Elara. You'll join me at the Crimson Palace tomorrow. I've already arranged for a room for you here," he says smoothly. "And trust me, it's much more luxurious than any tent or tavern room you've ever stayed in."
My brows furrow
"Absolutely not. I refuse to live in that sinister place." I say firmly. "Much less if it's with you"
Astarion lets out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, of course not. Because living alone in a moldy, cramped basement beneath the barracks is much more appealing."
I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously. It almost sounds like he's been planning this for a while now.
"Wait, what? How do you even..." And then, I know. "Shadowheart told you, didn't she? Is there anything she didn't tell you? That damned snitch."
Astarion chuckles at my outburst and shrugs nonchalantly. "She may have mentioned it," he admits with a sly grin."She has always been keen on gossip, after all."
I let out an exasperated sigh and shake my head.
Astarion grins, his red eyes sparkling with amusement "You can't expect me to trust you to do a good job while out of my sight. I mean, from what I see now, you could scape at any moment to get drunk and pass out in the street. And then, what good would that do to our poor spawn?" He says, pretending to be deeply worried.
I roll my eyes and cross my arms defensively. "Fine," I huff. "You win. I'll stay at the Crimson Palace, but only because it's the best option for the spawn."
Astarion raises an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh, so you do care about the spawn after all? I'm touched," he says sarcastically.
I shoot him a glare, and he relents with a smirk.
"Alright, alright. Enjoy your drinking session then. But don't forget, tomorrow we have important responsibilities."
"Ah yes, the joys of parenthood" I say sarcastically.
And to my surprise, I don't even finish my drink before returning to my basement, finally having something to look forward to.
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riacte · 9 months
Text
All the routes Renchanting could go in Life Series 5:
(Self sabotage along the lines of Ren burning his tower in Last Life, swearing, angst with a happy ending, 2k)
1.
Ren moves on, and Martyn pretends he moved on too, but he really never left. Ren forms a partnership with different people, he declares himself as best friends with someone, but when Martyn strays into his path, Ren can't help but take notice of him. Can't help but trust him once more, can't help but to offer him a deal, can't help himself.
Ren's a seasoned veteran now; he understands that war is inevitable and he has to keep his friends safe in an impenetrable fortress. He's not as naive as he was the first time, when he freely let people into his enchanting emporium. If Martyn offered to be his marketing manager this time round, Ren might not have let him (but deep down, he knows he'll always let him in). Maybe Martyn's the chink in Ren's armour. If that's the case, then so be it.
Martyn's not jealous. He's really not. Of course he's glad Ren's found new partnerships and new allies this time round. Of course he knows you can't repeat the past. He's just relieved that Ren is here this time, and he finds a little guidance in him. Something is better than nothing. Even though he has his allies, Martyn's still a wanderer, but he makes his rounds back to Ren periodically, in search for something that he's too scared to ask.
It's not his place anyway. Ren belongs somewhere. Martyn's not in the equation.
So Martyn patches up the fragments of his soul, tucks away his puns and oneliners, packs up his monologues and vows, carefully puts the memories of Third Life back in that little part of his heart, and continues to roam across the world. Walls, corners, edges. Nothing has changed.
(Still, when an unexpected mob strikes, Martyn grabs Ren in a panic, their hands find each other instinctively, they run and they run, and for a single precious moment, it's them against the world again.)
(And when Ren inevitably dies, Martyn stands and blankly stares at what's left of his not-ally, not-partner, not-king. He wonders if it would've been different if he was Ren's Hand again. Probably not. They're all doomed anyway.)
2.
Ren and Martyn ally, hands shook in a new agreement. It's not Dogwarts, but it's something.
They have new allies and new enemies. They're close, but not too close. They have a learned sense of self preservation. They crack their jokes, tend to their crops, enchant their gear, but it's not serious, right? Treating it seriously only results in more pain later. No one wants that.
Ren understands nothing good comes out of declaring himself as king. He always gets overthrown, his beloved defenders always get killed by the masses, his kingdoms always go up in flames. It's best to keep a distance from everyone. It's for the greater good.
This is a temporary alliance. They are all temporary alliances. It's just for fun. Once the end is near, it's time for them to drift away. Ren can't bear getting people getting hurt for his sake.
"We used to be something, don't you think so?" Martyn once asks Ren.
They're both thinking about Dogwarts. About a life a long, long time ago. A doomed life. A beautiful, wonderful, yet catastrophically painful life.
Is it better to have loved and lost, or better to not have loved at all?
They seem to have came to the conclusion organically. It's out of self-preservation, after all. Don't get too close. The story of the King and his loyal Hand is over. Let the dust settle on their storybook. Let the pages turn yellow. Let it wither. Let it die.
It's awful, isn't it? How they've finally found each other, after trials and tribulations, but they're too scared to try again. Where's that defiance against fate? Where's "give me a shield and I'll follow you to the ends of the world"? Where's "this is us now, this is us"? Where's the passion, the reverence, the reckless devotion? What beat it out of them?
"... We could be something, don't you think so?" is Ren's reply.
But they don't. They don't try anymore. Too tired, too drained, too timid now.
Somehow this feels worse than being separated. Not trying at all.
3.
Ren's not here.
Martyn builds his own walls, builds his own tower, wraps the tattered scarf around him once more, the Hand frozen in time, sits and stays right where he's been left. Third Life never ended for him.
Ren showed him life, didn't he? Where is he now? Where's the life he promised him?
Martyn dimly remembers Ren sitting himself on fire when he was lonely in Last Life. Back then, Martyn had dropped everything to rush to Ren's aid. Ren's the one inflicting damage on himself, the prince locking himself in his burning tower, and Martyn, ever the firefighter, puts out his flames with a bucket of water.
In that life, Martyn leaped to Ren's defence. How could he not? Logically, Martyn should've left Ren. Stopped his damage from damaging Martyn himself. But Martyn's never been logical about Ren, has he?
Is Ren watching him, this time? Is his king out there, somewhere? Does he care? Does he care at all?
... Martyn reaches for the flint and steel.
3.5
(Someone— it does not matter who— knocks it out of his hand. It kicks Martyn out of his stupor. He blinks. His head hurts. What the heck is he doing there, mooning about a lost king? Why the fuck does he even care, when everyone moved on?
This has gone on for too long. If he can't pull himself up from the abyss, he'll have to go cold turkey. There's no other way. It's for his own good, Martyn convinces himself.
In a violent, swift move, Martyn rips off his scarf. He watches it burn.
... He swears he's only crying from the smoke.)
4.
Martyn moves on. Ren thinks he moved on from Dogwarts and everything, but once he's back on the server, everything comes rushing back to him, as easy as running water.
He misses having a faction to protect. He misses being loyal to his people. He deeply misses his friends. He misses having Martyn by his side. He misses Martyn.
But Martyn's back to being a wanderer, cheerfully involving himself in everyone's business yet not staying with anyone, because he's permanently more selfish now, and nothing's going to stop Martyn once he's fallen off that edge. He's a cannonball, a tornado, a wild card. He's everywhere, but he's nowhere.
Martyn is cunning, devious, sharp as ever, still funny as fuck, but there's a wild look in his eyes now. He's untamed. He doesn't give a shit about anything. He lies. He backstabs. He's a nuisance. Thief. Plunderer. Shit-stirrer. And it's all for the heck of it.
Whatever happened to the loyal knight Ren once knew? Was Martyn always this way? Was Ren the only exception? Or has Limited Life broken him?
Ren still tries, with his kind smiles and elaborate gifts and offers of working with him, but Martyn seems to be avoiding him on purpose. What worked in Third Life doesn't work anymore.
Ren knows he should distance himself considering Martyn doesn't give a shit anymore, but a part of him can't help but look back. Maybe he can change Martyn. Show him life again. Maybe, maybe, just maybe.
("We can be allies again," he offers hopefully. Martyn laughs, and it's such a familiar sound that Ren can't help but perk up, but it's a harsh laugh. Twisted. Warped.
"No thank you," Martyn replies. Ren thinks Martyn's holding back calling him "boss" sarcastically. At least there's a line that he's not crossing.)
Ren knows he should let it go. It hurts, but dragging it only hurts more. Martyn doesn't want him, not even a little bit. His friends convince him. So Ren loyally sticks to his own circle of allies. He tries to forget about the permanent chink in his armour.
But when Ren carelessly steps into a trap, he thinks he hears an achingly familiar voice scream, "Ren! No!"
The world explodes in red and yellow. Fire. Dynamite. It's just like his first death, the one that turned him yellow the first time, the death that eventually led to his beheading, the one that started it all.
Now it ends. Now it all ends.
Ren's bleeding. He's on the ground. He thinks he hears Martyn's voice. That's nice. It's nice even if it's a hallucination. As his consciousness fades, he hears Martyn's voice,
"... If only you were there last time. If only I care about you as much as I did then. But the universe never lets it align, does it? You got over me when I didn't. Now I'm over you when you're not. I’m too early, you’re too late.”
Ren smiles. Oh, he sees through Martyn's facade. He sees it now. His lips part weakly.
"... Liar."
(Martyn's untamed. He doesn't give a shit about anything. He lies. He backstabs. He's a nuisance. Thief. Plunderer. Shit-stirrer. Liar. Liar.)
In response, Ren feels a squeeze on his hand. Comforting. Regretful. Apologizing.
"I don't deserve you. Don't forgive me, Ren."
I always do, Ren thinks. But by that time, he's already gone.
5.
There is a simple rule to the Life series— everyone is doomed from the beginning. No matter who wins.
Ren is doomed. A kind, gentle man can't survive till the end. That's why Ren had to kill himself and let the Red King take over. Is that why Martyn won the season without Ren? Is that how Martyn won, without Ren holding him back, without Ren to guide him?
You either die a hero, or live long enough to be the villain.
Yet, none of it is pointless. The seasons are filled with joy, laughter, genuine connections are formed, and while it can be tragic, it can also be soul-shatteringly beautiful.
It's worth it. It's always worth it.
Once, Ren showed Martyn life. Because all Martyn knew back then was how to survive, not how to live.
But now, Martyn doesn't just want to survive. He wants to thrive. What good is surviving if everyone dies at the end, including his king? What good it is anyway, when Martyn ends up falling and falling again? What good is conquering the world when every tiny bit of it reminds him of Ren?
So when the new season dawns, Martyn decides to throw all of it away. His angst, his inhibitions, his self-pity. Sure, everything goes up in flames anyway, and this fragile world is temporary, but is that any way to live? To live without living, to live without trying at all?
They're all at spawn. Everyone's enthusiastically greeting each other and Martyn does the same, but he's frantically searching for someone, eyes wide. He's waited months and months for this. He can't take it anymore.
And then—
(A familiar chuckle, a flash of brown hair, eyes turning to meet his—)
Martyn remembers the precious vow they made in a parallel universe, under the moonlit sky, blood splattered on the altar, those bygone years and bygone lives, and he runs—
"REN!" Martyn screams like he's never screamed before.
Martyn's hands reach out. He doesn't care if Ren has moved on, doesn't care if Ren doesn't want him anymore. He only cares that Ren is here. Alive. In front of him.
And so he embraces Ren tightly, so very tightly.
"Martyn!" Ren sounds surprised by the intensity. "Dude! I missed you!"
And with those simple words, the shattered pieces of his world start falling into place again. Martyn laughs, a pure, genuine laugh from his heart. Everything's alright now. They can begin again.
"Welcome back, my liege."
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ddarker-dreams · 1 year
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ive been reading way too much romance manga lately and all of them seem to have a wardrobe malfunction scene and I MUST to ask.,. sr reader having a wardrobe malfunction ?? their reactions like “I do not see I do not perceive” but internally screaming. thoughts? ponderings? musings even??
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WAIT HOLD ON !! YOUR BRAIN IS HUGE !! there is nothing i love more than shojo tropes... scarlet ribbons would pair so well with them omg... i need to look up a list and start writing them for funsies <3
reader here is fem!
[Scarlet Ribbons Index]
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Giorno
Giorno is stuck in the middle of an intense moral dilemma. If it’s just the two of you, he’d rather not embarrass you by pointing it out; he’d use his Stand to pull down your skirt on the sly. He doesn’t want you to think he’s been ogling you and that’s how he happened to notice the malfunction. In the moment, he’s honestly so concerned about navigating this with decorum that he forgets to get flustered. It isn’t until later when he lays down for the night that the weight of the situation hits him. He feels like he’s disrespecting you somehow by letting his thoughts wander and does his best to think about anything else, takes a cold shower and everything. Almost loses it on the spot when your Stand gives him a knowing thumbs up the following day. 
Bruno
Bruno is similar to Giorno where he prioritizes not wanting to make you uncomfortable in any way. While he’s trying to figure out what to do, he’ll be damned if he lets anyone wander into your general vicinity. He radiates the most ominous aura to keep others at bay. He fights every instinct in his body not to stare and admire the skin he isn’t used to seeing. Bruno already feels guilty for harboring romantic feelings for you in the first place, seeing as you’re his subordinate. This definitely isn’t helping. You’re over there smiling and making jokes while he’s struggling to remember how to breathe. Ends up shedding his blazer and throwing it over your shoulders, unable to take the stress any longer. The end of one crisis ends up inadvertently causing another. Bruno learns that day that he really likes how his clothes look on you. 
Fugo
Fugo starts sputtering, trying (and failing) to string together a coherent sentence. He’s landed in this situation a few times ever since you started rooming together, summer being especially dangerous. He honestly has no idea what to do with himself when you’re walking around in a tank top and short shorts. Ends up getting mad at you and your stupidly attractive body, but is even more upset with himself for how easily it riles him up. It’s just a little bit of skin, why can’t he control himself? He’s above such boorish behavior! Probably. You’re none the wiser to his tribulations and assume he’s just glaring at you because you forgot to take the trash out or something. Will only inform you of the malfunction if you’re planning to go out — he’s not letting anyone else get treated to such a view. Fugo ends up having to pantomime the issue to you because his tongue simply will not form words. He cannot look you in the eyes for the next few days. 
Mista
Mista is uncertain if this is a blessing from God or a trial from the devil. He’s being allowed to view a little glimpse of heaven, yet the cost is steep; what if you catch onto his staring and piece everything together? You’d probably write him off as a creep. Then his chances with you would be ruined forever unless you got hit with a memory-erasing Stand. It’s unusual for him to be perturbed by anything, he’s normally so relaxed. He would be if this was happening with literally anyone else but you. Since you’re involved, he needs to use like, tact or whatever. It’s rough. Eventually, he brings you close with an arm around your shoulders and whispers what the problem is. He’ll eagerly offer to help in any way you need it. 
Narancia
He goes to cover his eyes with his hands... but then splays his fingers so he can still see. Only a peek. You’ll find out what’s going on the fastest with him. Narancia just can’t keep his thoughts inside his head when you’re involved. It’s difficult to tell who is the most embarrassed between the two of you. He’s apologizing, you’re apologizing, it’s developing into quite the scene. It doesn’t help that he swears to stab anyone who walks by to preserve your honor. You have to convince him to put the knife away while readjusting your traitorous outfit. After the heat of the moment has passed, he dejectedly asks if you hate him now. Please reassure him that he did nothing wrong or he’ll be sad for ages. 
Abbacchio
Surprisingly has the most composed response somehow? He knows how the rest of his team gets when they’re around you, it’s like the caveman part of their brain takes over. Abbacchio likes to think he’s better than that. He’ll call you over and calmly explain what the issue is. He doesn’t beat around the bush but he’s not crude either. If you’re out and it’s something you can’t fix right away, he’ll offer to go buy you a hoodie or whatever. It might be a little mean of him to admit, but it’s kinda cute watching you get flustered over the whole ordeal. Though he’s nice enough not to tease you about it in the moment, expect him to bring it up every now and then whenever you start pestering him too much. 
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