#i could tag all the books but frankly i can’t be bothered
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Book recs: fairies
Fey, fae, fairies, faeries - pick your spelling, the fair folk are an undeniably popular trope in fantasy, and can be portrayed in wildly different ways, from cute pixies, to terrifying creatures of lore, to handsome and romantic beings of fairy tales. This list is a wild mix, all of them featuring fae or fae-like beings as central characters.
For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!
If you want more book recs, check out my masterpost of rec lists!
Borderline (The Arcadia Project trilogy) by Mishell Baker*
Urban fantasy mystery. A year after a failed suicide attempt that cost her both her legs and her film-making career, Millie is recruited by a secretive organisation that works to control traffic to and from Arcadia, the land of faries, and given the assignment of tracking down a missing nobleman of the Seelie Court in Hollywood. Bisexual main character, excellent if you like me enjoy reading about deeply messy women.
Phaeton by Rachel Sharp*
Jack and Rosie, couple and hackers, just got their hands on a brand new device: the phaeton, a phone which, despite its crappy parts, is seemingly capable of doing the impossible. Utilizing their skills, they quickly realize it works not through technology, but by being remotely controlled by a living creature - a fae. This revelation throws them into a war between the fae of old and a new type of fae, able to withstand iron and looking to exploit their fellows through this advantage.
Rosemary and Rue (October Daye series) by Seanan Mcguire
Urban fantasy mystery. October "Toby" Daye is a changeling, half human and half fae, who, after having been burned by both sides of her heritage, has retreated to a "normal" life, away from the faerie world. But the murder of Countess Evening Winterrose pulls Toby back in, a curse forcing her to take on the mystery and find the murderer. While I found the first book a bit weak, the series does get better from there on, with engaging characters and interesting mysteries.
Knife (Faerie Rebels trilogy) by R.J. Anderson
Young adult. Young Knife is a Hunter, providing for a group of faeries living inside an oak, their population slowly dying. Long ago, their people lost almost all their magic, and without it they are doomed. But Knife isn't one to give up; recruiting the help of Paul, a human boy living nearby the faery oak, she is set on discovering the secret of - and solution to - her people's missing magic.
Among Others by Jo Walton
Magical realism. Growing up with a half-crazed mother, Morwenna found solace in two places: reading science fiction novels, and playing with the spirits of Wales alongside her twin sister. But after their mother tried to twist the spirits to her own whims with deadly consequences, Mori is sent off alone to private school, where she attempts to come to terms with what happened. This is less "teen girl on big adventure" and more "what happens after the trauma of adventure", with it being partly left up to the reader whether the fantastical elements are read as real or not.
Gossamer Axe by Gael Baudino
Centuries ago in Ireland, Chairiste Ní Cummen was trained in the secrets of music and magic. But her pride was her downfall, trapping her and her lover in the land of the Sidh. Only Chairiste escaped, hoping to one day win her lover's freedom in musical battle with the fairy that holds her captive. Now she is Christa Cruitare, harp teacher in the modern world and all but resigned to her loss. Until she comes across a great new music: heavy metal. Taking one last chance to win her lover's freedom, Christa sets out to gather other skilled musicians and bring them with her in her final battle.
In the Jaded Grove by Anela Deen
After years of war, pixie soldier Simith is tired of bloodshed and secretly sets up a meeting to discuss peace. But he’s betrayed and forced on the run - right through a door to another world. Meanwhile, Jessa is on her way home when she encounters a man about to be killed, and intervenes to save his life. With that simple act, the fate of the two - and that of the war - become interlinked. While I found the general execution of this one a bit weak, the concept and characters are interesting, and it’s a fun take on the portal fantasy genre.
Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng
Catherine Helstone's brother Laon has traveled to Arcadia, the dangerous land of the Fae, and has since lost contact with her. Worried sick and desperate for news, Catherine embarks on the perilous journey herself, but on arrival she fins herself isolated and in danger of the Queen of the Fae, who is hard on her brother's heel.
Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett*
Historical fantasy. Emily Wilde is a professor who prefers the company of faeries, dangerous but bound to rules she can understand, to that of humans, who she finds inexplicable. Working on her faerie encyclopedia, she travels on a research expedition to the faraway Hrafnsvik, hoping for some solitary months of study. Her hopes are dashed when Wendell Bambleby, rival scholar and possible faerie in hiding, arrives on her doorstep. But Wendell's aggravating presence is far from Emily's only problem, as the Hidden Folk of Hrafnsvik turns out to be far more dangerous than expected.
The Watchers by A.M. Shine
Horror. When her car breaks down, Mina tries crossing a forest by foot. As the sun goes down she finds herself lost with something dangerous closing in; at the last second, a woman appears and urges her into a bunker. Inside is a room with a mirrored wall, in which a group of strangers, stranded just like Mina, huddles through the night. Outside in the dark, something malevolent watches them through the glass. Will the group ever be able to escape the forest? While I found the characters somewhat unconvincing, this is a spooky story with fascinating lore.
The Call (Grey Land duology) by Peadar Ó'Guilín
Young adult horror. After having scorned the fae, Nessa's nation has been cursed: every teenager will, at some point, be called into the Grey Land for 3 minutes and 4 seconds before being returned. 9 out of 10 are returned dead. Trying to keep their country alive, children are sent off to training schools to prepare them and better their chances of survival. Her legs having been twisted by polio at a young age, Nessa's chances are worse than most, but she is determined to make it through her call alive.
The Twisted Ones by T. Kingfisher*
Horror. When her grandmother dies, Mouse takes on the task of clearing out the old woman's home. But as she arrives at her grandmother's home she realizes her mistake: her grandmother was a hoarder, and Mouse has her work cut out for her. As if this wasn't bad enough, among the things left behind Mouse finds her step-grandfather's journal, describing various horrifying encounters. All nonsense, Mouse, assumes - until she starts making her own encounters in the dark forest surrounding the house.
Faebound (Faebound series) by Saara El-Arifi
Elven sisters Yeeren and Lettle have grown up in the shadow of a forever war, one as a soldier and the other as a diviner and teller of prophecy. But when Yeeren makes a fatal mistake and is exiled, the two leave their familiar world for the first time - and end up with the mythical, and believed extinct, fae. Here they must juggle their own loyalties and hearts with political intrigue as they try to find a way to survive and return to their home. While I didn’t personally dig the romantasy vibes of this and found the elves and fae could’ve been more interesting, if you like epic fantasy with heavy romance, both f/f and f/m, you will probably enjoy it.
Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik*
Historical fantasy with strong fairytale vibes. Miryem's father is a moneylender, but his inability to collect on debts has left his family on the brink of ruin. Desperate and ruthless, Miryem steps in to take his place, and suddenly the family's luck has turned. But Miryem's reputation of being able to turned silver to gold catches the attention of the Staryk King - dangerous creatures who seem made of ice body, mind and heart. In her schemes to survive the King's demands, Miryem's actions ensnare a local farmer's daughter as well as the new wife of the tsar. As their fates are bound together, the three girls may change their land forever, for better or for worse.
An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson
Young adult romance. Isobel is an artist with a particular and dangerous set of clients in the fair folk. The fairies cannot create art on their own, and her portraits are highly coveted. But as she paints a portrait for the autumn prince, Rook, Isobel makes a mistake: she paints human emotion into his eyes. This weakens Rook before the fairy court, and in his fury he spirits Isobel away to stand trial for her crime.
Stardust by Neil Gaiman
In a desperate attempt to win the heart of the beautiful Victoria, Tristran Thorn makes her a promise to fetch the falling star they both saw crash one night. But to do so, he must enter the land of Faerie, where nothing is as it seems, least of all the fallen star, who isn't very keen on being given away as a gift.
Guardian of the Dead by Karen Healey*
Young adult. Ellie cares mostly about hanging out with her friend Kevin and pining after her crush Mark, but when a string of grisly murders - all the victims missing their eyes - starts taking place in her town, it’s the start of something ancient and dangerous, as vengeful fairies battle for immortality. Set in New Zeeland and based on Māori mythology.
Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower by Tamsyn Muir
Novella. When Floralinda was first locked in a tower by a witch, princes kept coming to try and save her. But none of them made it past the dragon on the first floor, let alone the monsters after it, and now the supply of willing princes seems to have dried up. Starting to grow desperate, Floralinda captures and makes a deal with a small fairy for it to assist her in escaping the tower.
A note: all these Holly Black books are set in the same universe and do on occasion cross over, but can be read independently.
Tithe (Modern Faerie Tales trilogy) by Holly Black
Young adult. Sixteen-year-old Kade, used to traveling around with her mother's rock band, has just found herself back in her childhood home town. Here she meets up with old acquaintances - not all of them human. For Kade has always been able to see the faeries invisible to most humans. Among them is a handsome faerie knight she finds injured in the woods and chooses to help. In doing this, she becomes embroiled in a struggle between two rivaling and highly dangerous faerie courts.
The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black
Young adult. Siblings Hazel and Ben live in Fairfold, a strange town where people leave out milk for the fairies and tourists come to look at a fairy prince locked in an enchanted sleep in a glass coffin in the woods. But things have been getting even stranger in Fairfold; the fair folk are getting more agressive, and the glass coffin in the woods gets shattered. As unrest spreads throughout the town, Hazel keeps a secret that may unravel it all.
The Cruel Prince (The Folk of The Air trilogy) by Holly Black
Young adult. When Jude was seven, her parent's were murdered by a spurned faerie lover of her mother's, while she and her sisters were stolen away to be raised at the High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong in this dangerous land. Her struggle is made all the harder by Cardan, handsome faerie prince with a knack for pestering her. As she strives for some semblance of power in this dangerous realm, Jude gets involved with a conspiracy that may change Faerie forever.
Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool
Sinners (The Fae Feast series) by Eka Waterfield
Niavin isn't just a sidh Lord, he's also a drug lord, providing the fae's drug of choice: toxic human pollution.
Lore of the Wilds by Analeigh Sbrana
Romantasy. Lore Alemeyu's village is under ruthless Fae rule, trapped within a forested prison. To protect her village, Lore makes a deal with a Fae lord to organize an enchanted library which only a human can enter.
Black Sun Rising (The Coldfire trilogy) by C.S. Friedman
On a planet far away, a priest, an adept, a sorcerer, and an apprentice are drawn together to fight against the evil fae which preys upon humanity.
That Self-Same Metal (Forge & Fracture Saga) by Brittany N. Williams
Young adult historical fantasy. Joan Sands works as a stagehand for William Shakespeare's acting company. Secretly, she’s also blessed by the Orisha with magical powers, and the ability to see Fae. And lately, the Fae are up to something...
Euphoria Kids by Alison Evans
Three teens - one cursed to sometimes be invisible, one who grew from a seed in the ground, and one who has yet to find his real name - find themselves sharing magic and the ability to speak with dryads and fae.
The Wind City by Simmer Wigmore
Old forces are gathering in Wellington, as the displaced iwi atua of legend reappear and decide to make the city their home, and not all of them mean well.
Honorary mentions AKA these didn't really work for me but maybe you guys will like them: Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr, A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, Faerie Tale by Raymond E. Feist, Malice by Heather Walter, Poison Kiss by Ana Mardoll, Wintersong by S. Jae-Jones
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Magpie Stash
Pairing: Astarion/ g/n unnamed Tav
Tags: fluff, trauma
Length: 1k words
Summary: While looting, Astarion comes across items he wants to own.
A/N: Another headcanon which I may have shared with some of the talented fan fiction writers out there before. So, if that’s the case, don’t come for me! But holy Hells this got much longer than I planed! I guess this is s drabble now? Or a whole ass fanfic? You tell me 😂
Thank you wonderful @nyx-knox for the beta reading! It was *chef‘s kiss* ✨
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Astarion has not owned anything in 200 years.
The only things he could call his were his wits and the clothes on his back - and both he cared for and mended meticulously.
But suddenly he’s part of a ragtag group of strangers, and he finds himself looting a temple not far from where they crashed with a damn Nautiloid after being abducted and infected by mindflayer parasites. And frankly, he’s not entirely sure what part he finds most surprising.
Finding food, weapons and healing potions is a priority. For the others. Not so much him. Honestly. Why should he bother looking for food he won’t even eat? He doesn’t know these weirdos.
But he humors them and even aids his positively helpless companions by picking locks. And as he opens the lid of a gilded chest, something catches his eye.
Beneath old parchment and a rotten carrot he finds …. pretty things? There’s a particularly sparkly ring. A skilfully bound book with gilded letters on the cover. A fine silk scarf hemmed with the most delicate fell-stitches …
He has no idea if those items are of any value. They certainly are useless for the group. But … they are beautiful. And he wants, no he needs to own them. So without giving it too much thought, he takes them.
He has no intention of selling *HIS* items to the vendor they meet at the Tiefling Camp. Hells, he doesn’t even have the intention of showing them to his companions.
He wants these pretty things for himself, he wants to keep them safe. The spawn siblings used to steal from one another all the time, so he’s used to being protective over his meagre possessions. Can’t shake 200 years of hypervigilance that easily.
::::::::
Over the next days and weeks of travel, Astarion fills up a little purple leather pouch with whatever catches his eye. Going through the diverse collection of beautiful bits and bobs for a few moments before meditating becomes a secret source of calm for Astarion. A soothing ritual, especially after the more straining days.
Which is what he’s doing now. He sits on his bedroll cross-legged, inspecting the things. His things. His little private treasure trove. That he owns.
A bejeweled comb, random gold coins, a tiny picture frame containing an even tinier painting …
The only piece of his treasure that gave him more of a bittersweet feeling had been a silver hand-mirror he had found in the goblin infested village. To be honest, he was not too mad when he accidentally smashed it in frustration the other night after talking to Tav.
Tav. Their unofficial leader. They never seem to have a problem sharing the things they find. They share their food with the group, their scrolls, and they even gave Astarion that freakish but intriguing tome they had found in that cellar. Far too generous, if you ask him.
As Astarion packs up his collection he hears coughing outside. Again. It’s been going on all night.
He peeks out. Tav is on second watch. The night is cold, and they just added another log to the fire. Still, the cool wind is picking up and Tav pulls their cloak close around their neck - which unfortunately does not prevent the coughing.
For a moment, Astarion considers just ignoring them, letting them hack up a lung. But to his dismay, he … cares? He finds he doesn’t want Tav to be cold or sick. But it’s just because he just doesn’t want their coughing to get annoying. That’s all. Obviously.
So he leaves his tent and saunters up to their leader, who greets him with a sleepy but friendly smile.
Astarion holds out his hand to Tav, holding a long piece of white fabric. He’s offering them his beautiful silk scarf with the immaculate fell-stitched hem that he had inspected a lot over the past weeks.
„You’re coughing too much, darling. It’s keeping me up and I do need my beauty sleep.” he says with mock indignation and his trademark smirk.
„Thank you.“ Tav says as they take the scarf from his hand and wraps it around that oh so delicious neck of theirs.
After an awkward moment of silence Astarion offers a final „Well. Good night, my dear.“ with a courteous bow and walks back to his tent.
He can’t help but wonder at the strange feeling in his chest. Tav can and will never know just what big of a deal this small gesture was for the pale Elf.
For the first time in 200 years Astarion gave away something that was his simply because he wanted to. He wanted them to have it. Because they needed it more than him. And not only that. He does not even expect anything in return. How in the Hells did that happen?
He’s sure it’s nothing.
:::::::
A few years from then, Astarion finds himself in the cellar beneath Tav’s and his home. He’s looking for something, and he’s sure it has to be here somewhere.
“Aha!” From the trunk before him he pulls a skilfully bound book - even though the gilded letters on the cover have worn off with time.
He opens the book - and huffs in relief. And nervousness. It’s still right where he left it between the pages all those years ago.
Hidden inside the old book lies a particularly sparkly ring.
He smiles. A lot has changed since that day they looted that temple and he found his first little treasures. Back then Astarion couldn’t fathom sharing his magpie stash - or anything, for that matter - with anyone. And now? Now he shares a home with the person he loves. And he plans on sharing so much more with them.
What better way of showing that than by proposing with the first thing he ever called his? Because now there’s only one thing, or rather person, he wants for himself. The one person he wants to share everything with.
He looks at the particularly sparkly ring.
Yes. This should do nicely.
So, and on a completely unrelated note: When does a headcanon become a full on fanfic lol?
#astarion x tav#astarion headcanons#this is about astarion#astarion ancunin#baldurs gate 3#astarion fanfiction#ohoh herdarkestnightelegance wrote something
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👑The girl in the silver dress👑New version (Prt 3) (prt 1 here) (Prt 2 here)
Aemond x reader
Tags: Fluffish, royalty, modernroyalty, theselection
Cool devider credits: firefly graphics
🔷Summary: You are invited to become a selected girl for Prince Jacaerys's selection. You never thought you would fall for his uncle, prince Aemond instead.
🔷Author's note: Based on the books by Kiera Cass, but reading them is not required.
🔷Wordcount :3464
🔷Warnings: Non apply
TAGLIST: @connorsui @lportes-22 @thisaccountisrandomsstuff @nikkitc0703 @lijeno
Months have passed since the ball. Yet you still can feel your heart be ripped in two. Aemond has not bothered to come back for you, believing he is somehow doing you a favor by staying away. You wonder if he is doing alright. You should be furious, angry, perhaps take revenge and sleep with other men but….
Part of you knows Aemond too well to even do that. He genuinely believed he did the right thing. The good thing, by leaving and setting you free, so you could become the Queen. But what is a crown over true love? How can you rule over countless people if it is not the man of your dreams by your side, making the horrible choices so worth it, just because you’ll make that choice together? What is the future if you can’t spend it by his side? What is a golden cage if you can live with him in freedom? And why would you care about being Queen, when you could just be the woman he loves?
Tonight, you all will be interviewed by the press, a common occurrence so the people of Westeros will know you a bit better, perhaps you’ll become someone’s favorite.
Your make-up team works on your eyeliner, black with silver small tiny glitters. They put gloss on your lips and put your hair up, so the silver necklace around your neck speaks volumes. Baela is already done with her dress, and has taken time to chat with you about Aemond. She has become a close friend of yours in the past months, together with Dyana. You form an alliance with both, against Floris and even Queen Alicent. ‘’He loved me, he said so in his letter.’’ You tell Baela when she asks if Aemond wasn’t playing a fucked up little game. ‘’I’ve seen the man behind the mask when I am near him, Baela. It can’t have been a act.’’
Floris approaches in her black swan feather dress, glancing down at you with great enjoyment of your misery. ‘’Well, Queen Alicent has already said Aemond won’t be coming back from Dorne anytime soon. So, have fun being depressed and disappointed.’’ Alicent likely told Floris that in confidence but Floris takes any chance to make you feel miserable.
Dyana wears a gorgeous red gown and approaches Floris rapidly. She puts her hands on her hips and you and Baela know Dyana has had it with Floris. ‘’Just like your father was when you came in-'’ You see Baela gasp when Dyana opens her mouth, and the last 15 remaining girls listen with their breaths hold in. But you speak up, forcing her to remain calm, grabbing her hand and dragging her back before she can claw out Dyana’s eye.
‘’Don’t stoop to her level, Dy. She is not worth our anger or energy. She craves attention, so she seeks it.’’ Dy nods, before moving back to her chair. Floris scoffs at you three before she and her minions let the tv crew know they are ready.
After watching the other girls excel with their questions, the same questions time after time, you think you are prepared for whatever they may throw at you. You sit down in the comfortable chair, your legs crossed.
The first question is about your first meeting with the prince. The interviewer smiles, but her eyes tell books. ‘’Everyone knows you are a common-born girl. Do you think the reason you are still here is because of favoritism?’’ You first gawk at her, attacked and offended. Until you see the chance to clap back. And you will.
You speak from your heart but you can’t ignore the sting as if you betray Aemond. ‘’Frankly, I believe Prince Jacaerys is quite taken with me, and his opinion matters more than what a small crowd chooses to say about me.’’
Her eyebrows rise and this time she is the one who lost her tongue, clearly fumbling over cards to find a good other hostile question. ‘’Do you think you would make a good queen? How would someone as commonborn as you even lead the country?’’
A fair jab, but you are done playing fair. You will come at her with everything you got. ‘’I think us commoners know more about the country than the nobility ever will. We are the ants, carrying the crown. I hope to make life better for all civilians of the Seven Kingdoms, not just the commoners or the nobility. I hope to be a ruler. Not a decoration on a shelf.’’
The woman is seething with rage at your composed sweet answers. ‘’That was my final question.’’ You blink innocently and surprised.
‘’Was it? You seem to have forgotten to ask me the questions you asked all the other girls. Perhaps you need a break.’’ You suggest, sweetly. A few chuckles erupt among the selected.
The interviewer is removed by Lady Aemma before getting a firm talking to off screen. You stand up from the chair and sigh deeply. That went as horrible as could be. The only thing that would have made it worse would be questions about Aemond. You saw her cards, they were on there. Yet she kept from asking. Odd. And someone is working on getting you removed, someone very high up.
The next major event is the Halloween masquerade. Only 10 girls remain, including you. Jacaerys has been nothing but kind to you, treating you as a true lady whenever you are around him. Floris and four other girls are now under Alicent’s wing. You used to be jealous that she had selected clear favorites. Yet none of that matters. Jacaerys has only eyes for you.
Prince Jacaerys dances with you, under the great chandelier. All those months practicing with the waltzes and dances have finally paid off as you smoothly follow his movements as if you are two body pieces belonging to one soul.
But alas, despite him having you made his favorite, you remain a pawn in a game. And a game has rules, no matter how unfair. Jacaerys ends the dance with a respectful bow before moving to Lady Baela, a sweet kind girl you’ve come to know very well.
You take a glass of champagne, before sitting down on a chair, lost in thought. You’ve been here for months. You miss Aemond, of course you do.
At some point you lost track of Baela and Jace. They must be getting more champagne. A servant loyal to Jacaerys whispers in your ear that you must come to the library. The prince has a surprise for you.
You enter the library not much later. A masked figure stands with his back to you, a black hood covering his hair. ‘’Jace?’’ You ask, before approaching him. Jace does not answer you, instead he grabs you by your hips and drags your body closer until you both collide. Your chin is grabbed and he kisses you fiercely before exhaling deeply, sniffing the perfume on your skin.
This is improper. You must stop this. Jacaerys and you are not married, this is the selection. This is not fair to the others.
You gasp, as you remove the mask and look into blue eyes, not brown ones. Aemond silently brings his fingers to your lips before slowly bringing his face back to yours. The worst part is, you let him. You welcome him. Your lips find his soft pink lips, gently moving against his lips until the movements become rough as if he is trying to hurt you. ‘’Y/n,’’ he murmurs against your lips, leaving kisses on your skin. ‘’I’m sorry. I honor the traditions, normally. But I can’t stay away from you.’’ He mutters. You kiss his lips again.
But you look into his eyes. ‘’We’ll make our own traditions.’’ You promise him, hot tears running down your cheeks of pure joy. He kisses you again, much slower and softer as if he wants to savor every moment of this. Aemond murmurs against your lips and you become lost in the passion and the love you feel for one another. You tug at his tie but he shakes his head, before leaning in and whispering in your ear. ‘’I don’t want you to become a secret, or a scandal. I will ask my nephew, and my father for permission.’’ He searches in his pocket for a small rock shaped box and opens the lid, before sinking to one knee and grabbing your hand. Lady Aemma enters the room, holding a smartphone so she can film this wonderful moment as tears sting your eyes.
He is proposing. He is asking you to become his wife. ‘’Lady Y/n, queen of my heart, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, my equal, and may I bring you under my protection?’’ A small ring with gold and a clear sapphire smiles at you, and you see dreams and hopes in Aemond’s eyes.
You smile. You wait for him to stand, and nearly slam the ring out of his hands before you kiss him again. ‘’Yes, yes, a dozens times yes.’’
Aemond grins, picking you up from the ground, spinning you around when kissing you. Lady Aemma makes herself known again, gently clearing her throat, but her eyes are misty with tears. ‘’I’m afraid there is a matter of permission. A royal marriage can only exist with the blessing of the king.’
The king has been feeling ill lately. He has taken to bed and refuses to leave for anyone. Queen Alicent rules in his stead, as a faithful wife would. You and Aemond rush past ladies, princes, nobles and paparazzi, hand in hand, clearly smitten as your feet go as fast as you can go. Paparazzi quickly turn their camera’s to you both, but all they get is a messy blurry picture, that is how fast you both are walking. Finally, you reach the rooms of the king.
Queen Alicent sits by his bedside, faithfully reading him the newspaper. She turns around when she sees you both, and you drop into a curtsy. ‘’What are you both doing here?’’ She asks.
Aemond clears his throat, before sitting down on his father’s bed. ‘’Father, I’m sorry. I know you told me I should always follow duty, and that the crown requires sacrifice.’’ He did? King Viserys avoids your eyes and you understand he was behind Aemond’s sudden departure. You cross your arms over your chest.
‘’I did.’’ The king confesses, a bit grumpy.
Aemond gestures for you to come closer, so you do. He takes hold of your hands. ‘’But my path to duty led me to Y/N. She makes me feel things I never felt before. She is the love of my life, Father. I know you both sent me away to Dorne to forget her, but I know by now: No one will ever compare or come close to her. She is all I ever wanted, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. If I have to give up my titles, so be it.’’ He declares, firmly.
Viserys coughs, before smiling at you both. ‘’Aemond, come here my boy. I know I've been a horrible father to you and my other children.’’ You look away, not sure you were meant to hear this.
‘’Yes.’’ Aemond says, agreeing without missing a beat.
Viserys looks at you. ‘’But I'm going to ask you this once, my boy. Do you love that girl?’’ Your heart beats faster and faster and you are afraid it might stop.
Aemond looks at you when speaking, nodding. ‘’I feel alive when she is with me. Like everything is possible and she makes me whole in ways I used to be broken.’’ Viserys nods.
‘’Then who am I to deny you both? Go, be happy, my boy. You always have been meant for it.’’ Aemond nods, pretending to not tear up, but even you have teary eyes watching this reunion.
This is nice, but there is one other obstacle. Jacaerys. You belonged to his selection. To go with another man is treason. ‘’Jace, of course, I will ask-’’ Aemond is interrupted as the doors open and Jace himself enters with Lady Aemma close behind.
Jacaerys holds up his hands, silencing Aemond. ‘’You don’t have to, Aemond.’’ He turns to the king before speaking. ’I've seen it for myself, Grandsire. Y/n and Aemond are two parts of one soul. We must not keep them separated. They belong to one another.’’
Alicent looks concerned. ‘’But what will the media say?’’ She is right. They have not been kind to you.
Viserys grins. ‘’They can say whatever they like. Y/n will become Aemond's wife, a princess of house Targaryen. They will learn to mind their tongues over time.’’ You hope so, at least.
Aemond turns to his mother. ‘’Do I have both your blessings? May we marry?’’ He asks, hopeful.
Alicent looks you over, and you wonder how much she secretly hates you. She smiles, before touching her son’s forehead, kissing it. ‘’Your happiness is all that I ever wanted for you, Aemond. Go find it with your wife.’’ And just like that, a nightmare ends and a dream is born. Aemond kisses your lips, not giving a damn about the audience that is present.
The first moment with the press is there, the engagement photoshoot. Of course you are afraid, but Aemond makes it all worth it. He is still a bit stiff when it comes to press and attention but you bring out his true wonderful self. You and Prince Aemond hold hands in front of the castle, as multiple press magazines, news channels and photographers from all over the world take in this wonderful moment.
‘’Prince Aemond! "Please look here!"
‘’Duchess Y/n! Is it true you and Prince Aemond bonded over your love for Dornish architecture?"
‘’Yes. We are big nerds."
‘’O, that was improper of me wasn't it?’’ You mutter as the press eagerly writes things down.
Aemond shrugs before whispering in your ear. ‘’You're doing just fine. We kinda are big nerds.’’
You return the smile, taking hold of his face before kissing him. ‘’The biggest.’’ You declare before kissing him. The flashes go crazy the moment your lips lock, and all photographers shut up, taking millions of pictures.
Aemond breaks the kiss, grinning at the press when you blush lost in the moment. ‘’Prince Aemond, what was your first thought when you saw her lady?"
Aemond thinks back and you see many emotions cross his face. ‘’Why don't good things ever happen to me? And it's ironic because…she would become the best thing In my life.’’
One photographer clearly adores that and makes a little strangled ‘’awh’’ sound, causing their colleague to smack them lightly on the arm. ‘’What? They are adorable!’’ He declares, simply before returning to making photos.
You glance at Aemond. ‘’I am simply speaking my truth.’’ He says as if he’s defending himself.
You grin. ‘’Hmhm.’’
An interviewer of the Targaryen times finally asks a question, having worked up the courage. ‘’Princess-I mean, Duchess…’’ She stumbles and blushes, embarrassed as she looks through her notes nervously.
Aemond smiles, reassuringly. ‘’Princess is fine, Ma’am. She must adjust to her new title somehow.’’ Finally she lets go of her cards, and becomes much more confident because of it.
‘’Princess Y/N. What are the plans for the wedding?’’ Aemond grins, turning his head to you as if he wants to hear it as well.
You smile, painting a picture. ‘’A grand one, in the sept, honoring ancient Targaryen traditions. But also a couple of new ones.’’ You for example would love for Vhagar, Aemond’s cat to wear the rings down the aisle or for your wedding dress to be silver. And so, that happened. 25 october, you and Aemond said your vows for dozens of people to see. And after that, came the honeymoon.
You finally stand before the statue of Nymeria, the statue you dreamed of seeing since you were old enough to want anything. Aemond is with you, together with your security, hidden and dressed as ordinary tourists. You look at Nymeria’s statue, at a loss for words, that's how beautiful you find it all.
‘’I can't believe you took me here.’’ You tell Aemond, searching for his hand to hold as tears of happiness roll down your cheeks.
He gently wipes them away. ‘’I can. You always wanted to see it. And now we can.’’ He tells you, with a smile and a kiss on your lips. ‘’This does mean that you need a new dream, I’m afraid.’’ He jests but you turn his face back to your own.
‘’I don’t need a new dream. You are my new dream.’’
Next year, you all come together for christmas. You and Aemond have brought gifts. The family sits still in gowns and suits, as royals are expected, but their smiles are the same of any other happy family.
Finally it is your turn to give something to Viserys, the king.
‘’Grandsire, we have a surprise.’’ Aemond looks around the room, and everyone watches as Viserys unwraps his present with the help of Alicent, and reveals two red with silver baby socks.
Rhaenyra gasps, delighted before hiding her giggle. Jacaerys and Baela grab each other’s hand and Helaena grins. Even Aegon seems to understand what this means. His hair has slightly grown back, but he keeps it shorter than usual, he quite liked it.
Yet the king seems at loss for words. ‘’These are a little too small for my feet.’’ Viserys says, taking in the baby socks.
Aemond grins, putting his arms around you. You beam, waiting patiently for Viserys to get the hint.
Alicent jumps up from her chair, gasping. ‘’Oh my gods, she is pregnant!’’ You break into a bright grin as Aemond softly rubs your belly.
Instantly the king smiles, standing up to hug you both. ‘’Oh! My stupid arse thought you bought the wrong size!’’ He is still very fragile, but manages to walk a few inches.
‘’Father.’’ Rhaenyra says with a chuckle.
Daemon, her newest husband, smirks, before coming over as well. Usually he is too cool for things like this, but this time, it's different. ‘’Ah to hell it with, get here you two.’’ He hugs you both. You look at the beautifully decorated christmas tree, and realize that next christmas might look even more beautiful.
The next Christmas is just like that, beautiful. Baela is now pregnant with her own child, the future heir to the seven Kingdoms. Dyana has been married too, to a friendly sweet woman she met in a coffee shop. She remains one of your closest friends, after the selection and Dyana and Crystina are invited to court, to become your ladies.
Your son is now born, Prince Daen Targaryen. Aemond and you picked the name together.
‘’He takes after his father, always with his nose stuck in a book.’’ Prince Viserys comments as you and the young prince look through a picture book he got from his aunt, Aunt Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra seems pleased that your son likes her gift and you smile at her. ‘’He likes colorful pictures.’’
Rhaenyra nods. ‘’Viserys and Aegon are the same.’’
Aemond talks with his dad, you see them bond more and more, becoming closer. ‘’Do you remember?’’ He asks.
Viserys almost looks offended. ‘’Of course I do. Your favorite things was to read, to eat cookies and to see the horses.’’
Aemond grins, looking at you and your son. ‘’I thought you had forgotten.’’ He confess.
Viserys nearly chokes on his champagne. ‘’Never.’’
You lift Daen from the ground, picking him up and bringing him to Aemond who happily accepts and holds his son. ‘’Look, it’s daddy.’’ You tell your son with a smile. ‘’Say hello to daddy.’’
He grins, hugging your son tightly when rocking him to sleep. ‘’Our little prince.’’ He tells you with a wink.
You nod. ‘’Our little prince.’’ You have learned a lot in the time of the selection. But the one thing is that your life can change, if you just look past people’s appearances, and past their walls. The most gorgeous crown can be hidden behind a ugly box and the most wonderful story has the dustiest cover. You can’t judge people for the walls they keep around, as everyone has their own stories. But most of all, you learned to fight for things you believe in, and to fight for things you love.
A/N.
Thank you so much for reading with me. When i started it idk how many people would even like it and the support was insane. Thank you all so much. I hope you all liked the story as much as I did telling it, in hotd/selection fashion.
#hotd#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond one eye#hotd x reader#hotd x you#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#hotd x oc#aemond x oc#aemond targaryen x reader
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Quite frankly this entire mindset around Rings of Power: “it’s not made the way I wanted/expected it to, following the books to a T, so it should be canceled - if I can’t/won’t watch it, no one should, let’s spread the hatred and boycott - there’s but one way to tell this story” is … disappointing. To me, it is.
No adaptation is going to be the way I envisioned. Not a one. Regardless of the company that buys the rights. Someone will always cry “Wolf”. And you know what? That’s alright. If I can enjoy a new take on a favorite series and find joy in the way someone else brings it to life? I will. Or I’ll, quite simply, not watch.
At the end of the day I’ll always have the books and my own imagination for that undiluted, “unspoiled” version. Another interpretation doesn’t bother me. Especially when it’s everything I’d want to see in a story of this caliber: mythical and whimsical, like a much beloved fairytale. With female characters not there for decoration only, held to the stereotypical standards of “women only need to be/do this in order to be palatable, lest they not be women”. Women who are not only mentioned in passing, simple tokens in a 1000+ compendium dedicated to men.
And I’m happy to be free of the gratuitous gore and endless violence of other, much-hyped franchises. Yes, it’s different than canon. Yes, we all rightly hate Amazon. Yes, there’s countless aspects one can be nitpicky about. And so on and so forth. We could sit and complain forever.
But you know what? I’m not going to let sheer hatred ruin my love for this show. I’m not going to get mired in this bottomless pit of complaints. I’m going to focus on what I REALLY enjoy: a young, brash, and quite relatable Galadriel (Cate is ICONIC, but I find Clark’s portrayal just as engaging with glimpses of the enigmatic and formidable Lady of Lorien in the Third Age; and yes, I do love me a fearless, sword-wielding elleth with a rather “swashbuckling youth”). Then there’s charming, witty Disa and the dwarves which I feel are portrayed to perfection. Durin and Elrond are a riot together and their dynamic a joy to watch. Arondir and Halbrand feel like well-established Middle Earth characters to me and I find them a welcome addition. Nori and Poppy are a delight and the Harfoots in general are a source of pure joy. Bronwyn is also a character I’ve quickly grown fond of. And I look forward to seeing what they’ve done with Numenor. Not to mention the exquisite cinematography and fantastic music score.
So, for me? There’s a lot to enjoy. Which is what I plan to do. It’s just sad you can’t go into the tags for this show and not find hate-filled comments clinging to the thread like fungus. Is there nothing that can be enjoyed these days without hateful rhetoric? I just want to stare at pretty pictures, okay?
#rings of power#lotr: the rings of power#don’t fill my inbox with hate messages btw#I’ll never reply#it would be a waste of time#about this blogger trash
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bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m
WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!
NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!
WORDS. 3k+
“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”
“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.
Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.
Personal affirmations came first.
“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—
“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”
Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.
But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.
“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.
“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.
Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.
“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.
“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.
“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”
“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”
“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”
I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—
“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”
“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.
“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”
“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”
“I said that it’d be sad if—”
“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.
See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.
The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.
But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.
Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.
Not for—
“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.
Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.
“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.
“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.
Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.
“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”
“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”
Jungkook flushes.
“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”
“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”
Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.
“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.
“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”
“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”
“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”
“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”
You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.
“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”
And of course, you knew his name.
“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”
“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”
You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.
“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”
“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”
“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”
Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.
“Boyfriend.”
Seokjin raises a brow.
“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”
“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.
“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”
He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.
“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.
The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.
Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.
“You’re not her type.”
He scoffs.
“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.
“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”
With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.
He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.
Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.
It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.
“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”
It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.
“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”
“But—”
“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.
“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.
“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.
You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.
“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.
“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh���”
Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.
It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.
The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.
“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”
“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”
“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”
Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.
The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.
“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”
You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.
“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.
“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.
Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.
Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.
You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.
“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”
Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.
“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”
You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.
“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”
Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.
“Jungkook,” you say sternly.
He sighs.
“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”
“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”
Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.
“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”
You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.
“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”
Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.
“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”
You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.
“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.
“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.
“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.
He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.
#bad boy good thing#bbgt#bts#bts fics#bts series#bad boy good thing drabbles#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x oc#bts fanfiction#jungkook scenario#bts jungkook#jeon jungkook
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Matt Murdock x Female!Reader: A Matter of Sanity
Summary: He’s going to have a lot of conflicting feelings about this later, but for now, Matt will take what you’re willing to give him.
Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (sexual references; former nun!reader; reader knows Daredevil’s secret identity; inaccurate Catholicism)
Tag List: @imaginesfire
Fic Trade Prompt: "Sometimes the ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen' just needed a shoulder to lean on."
Notes: I only ever saw the first season of Daredevil. Also, I mostly chose to write this particular fic trade response because I wanted an excuse to write something that, for me, was a shoutout to His Dark Materials, a book series I’m enormously fond of.
I don’t actually know anything about Catholicism, however, and as a Christian myself, I realize His Dark Materials is not exactly a reliable source for learning about the topic of religion. If you are Catholic and something in here is incorrect, I implore you to inform me so that I can fix the problem. If it’s so horrendously awful that a mere edit won’t work, I’m even willing to rewrite it.
In more specific-to-the-fic information, this is one of my few fic trade responses where I tried my hardest to stay within the word count restrictions. Alas, I still went over...and trying so hard means that this really isn’t near as sensory-overload-descriptive as I would want something from Matt’s perspective to be.
A Matter of Sanity
Matt woke up that morning to a barrage of sensory assault: warm sunlight splayed across his skin; humidity from the bathroom down the hall dampened the short hairs on his face; the smell of strange perfume sticking to the semi-cooled sheets beside him and his familiar shampoo drifting through the air. Toast had been made–and nearly burned–in the kitchen sometime that morning. He could hear the medicine cabinet closing, then bare feet padding toward him. Through all these floating, fuzzy feelings sliced his injuries from the night before: cuts, bruises, blisters, maybe a sprained wrist.
“Morning, Mattie.”
And there was the reason he had not meditated after the fight, the reason his wounds felt as fresh as though he’d got them minutes before.
Said reason lighted on the edge of his bed and slipped soft fingers into his sleep-mussed hair. “Did you sleep well last night?”
In answer, Matt let out an incomprehensible moan. As far as he could remember, not much sleeping had taken place in the apartment the night before. Still, he wasn’t one to quibble over what he’d been doing instead. Seconds later, he sat up, forcing you to stop playing with his hair so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and put his cheek against your moist, bare shoulder.
“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he mumbled.
You laughed, a sound that always caused a pleasant unfurling sensation to spread through Matt’s stomach. “Sorry. A girl has to have some secrets, even from her all-knowing, all-seeing blind lawyer friend.”
“Is that what we are? Friends?” Matt chuckled himself and tightened his grip as he pressed a kiss to your skin. “You are the worst nun I have ever met.”
Another laugh, then you gently patted his cheek with your shower-warmed hand. “Well, maybe that’s why I decided not to be one anymore. What do you want for lunch?”
The weight on his mattress vanished at the same time your body did.
“Lunch? What time is it?”
Frowning, Matt turned in the direction he heard you moving–toward where you had left the majority of your clothes the night before. Whether he had pulled them off or you had, he couldn’t quite remember. Then a more important question popped out of his mouth:
“Did you say you quit being a nun?”
You only bothered to answer his first two questions: “It’s nearly eleven o’ clock. Figured if you wanted to go somewhere, we’d better head that way, and frankly, Matt, there’s nothing in this apartment but beer.”
“Eleven? It’s Thursday. I can’t go to lunch. I’m already late for work–what was that about stopping nun-ing?”
“I called in for you. Foggy whined about you skipping over a woman as usual, but–”
“[Name],” said Matt. “The thing about your job?”
You heaved a dramatic sigh. “I quit, okay? I was going to tell you when I came over last night, but after all that, I kind of figured I didn’t have to anymore.”
“Some clarification might have been nice.” Matt hadn’t felt an overabundance of guilt at sleeping with you. It took two to tango, after all, and you’d been just as willing as he had. Now some dread began to creep in. “Why’d you quit?”
A huff sounded from behind the fabric of the shirt over your face. “I met a tall, dark, handsome stranger beating the tar out of a Russian slave trader in an alley, and he made me rethink my life choices.”
“That’s a cliché.”
“So’s a blind ninja fighting slave traders in New York.”
“Not exactly.” Pressing his lips together, Matt slid out of his silk sheets. He knew his shirt was not far away, but he hadn’t started pulling it on yet when he went on, “I didn’t mean to have you quit.”
“Matt!” you groaned.
“You can’t come with me. I didn’t mean to make you to feel useless.”
“I’m a grown woman, and I make my own choices. You didn’t make me feel or do anything–and I know I can’t go with you to punch Russians. I just wanted to do a little good for Hell’s Kitchen.”
“You were doing good for Hell’s Kitchen. With the Church.”
“Have to disagree with you there. And I’m not going back. You can’t make me. I want to experience the world. I want to help you.”
“I already said, you are not–“
“I know,” you interrupted. “There’s more to do than break people’s bodies, you know.”
Matt stared at you, or stared roughly in the direction he knew you continued to pull on various articles of clothing. Another sigh issued from there.
“When I got here last night to give you the news, you were bleeding and shaking from head to foot. There’s nothing to eat here but booze and bread. You can take care of yourself, but you’re not very good at looking after yourself.”
He had never really thought about it that way. His work as Daredevil was vital; eating, less so. Matt already healed faster than most when he wasn’t busy deflowering ex-nuns, and what didn’t heal after that, he could plow through just fine. On the other hand...
“Are you inviting yourself to move in?” he asked.
There was an obvious smile in your voice when you answered, “Well, you are the reason I’m presently homeless and unemployed. If you hadn’t seduced me away from a life of worship and piety, I’d still be doing my holy work, Matt Murdock.”
“And you’re absolutely sure you’re done with being a nun.”
“I think what we did last night pretty much sealed the deal.”
“And there’d be more of that.”
“I’m leaning toward yes.”
“And you really want to live here. With me. With the giant blazing billboard right outside the window.”
He got a pillow to the face for his trouble, or would have, had he not caught it before it smacked him in the nose.
“Does it sound like I can afford to be picky about where I’m staying? I’m sure about all of the above. I can always move out once I find something else, if you decide you hate having me here.”
Your tone turned just a little uncertain at the end of that sentence. Matt stood and stepped carefully (in case of more pillows) over the smooth floor toward you.
“I won’t hate having you here,” he said. “Now that you mention it, it might be nice having someone here when I get home bleeding at two in the morning. To fuss over me and put me in place. When can you start?”
“Immediately.” You shoved something soft-ish into his chest. Pants, he realized as felt the hard button. “Now get dressed. It’s getting toward noon now and all that sex makes a girl hungry.”
“Right,” Matt said, and quickly started to pull on the pants.
Definitely the putting him in his place part, then. But maybe you were right. Maybe sometimes, the “Devil of Hell’s Kitchen” just needed a shoulder to lean on. He'd have to see, but he was leaning toward yes, too.
#fan fic#straw writes#reader insert#second person pov#fic trade#one shot#matt murdock#daredevil#defenders#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x y/n#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil x y/n#defenders x reader#defenders x you#defenders x y/n#marvel#mcu#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel x y/n#mcu x reader#mcu x you#mcu x y/n
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ZOOM CALL
⇢ meeting two
jeon jungkook x (f) reader
⇢ series masterlist
summary: Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.
genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba)
warnings: ITS A SLOW BURN OKAY...., sweetheart jk, campus crush jk, college crushes, social distancing, zoom -_-, jk owns a keroppi plush, oc thirsts over his hot bod, jk’s sweet attempts at flirting </3 he’s just 2 cute for his own good
ratings: e for everyone <3
wc: 3.7k
notes: this took long bc i wrote one version but it was SO LAME u guys r lucky my friend and editor ( @kigurumu 🖤 ) stopped me from posting it. so then i had to reorganize my thoughts n b like girl. the ppl are waiting. get it together. anyway here’s zoom jk 😎
Being grouped with Jeon Jungkook (he/him) for your first class on the first day of your first Zoom semester truly sets the standard.
By no means do your other classes suck; they’re quite enjoyable, more relevant to your area of study. They’re familiar which makes them comfortable, your Zoom meetings filled with faces you’ve seen time and time again the last four years. The material interests you, so you definitely don’t have anything against them or your classmates.
That being said, no one is prepared for the awkwardness that comes with each and every Zoom meeting. You never thought you’d be embarrassed to turn your mic on— to speak in a class filled with your peers. And the meetings are all like that, filled with uncomfortable silences and endless black screens.
You wish there was a Jeon Jungkook (he/him) in every class.
Jungkook’s just got this bubbly aura to him, this magnetic presence that staples itself into the back of your mind with each passing day. No one fills a Zoom call like he does, making every person laugh and smile like him.
Wednesday rolls around and you find yourself a little disheartened when you don’t get sorted into the same randomized group as him again. Disappointment melts into annoyance when you find out how incompetent your other classmates are, refusing to speak in the small group or just completely clocking out all together. A lot of them didn’t do the reading— the one you stayed up all night doing —and your first partnered assignment of the semester finds you doing it all by yourself. Muted mics, black windows, complete radio silence; you hated it all.
You find yourself weirdly longing for Jeon Jungkook’s presence, even if he’s only there to talk about some movie he saw last night. No one is as much of a chatterbox as him, can’t even hold a candle to the way he draws everyone in with his mindless conversations. At least he speaks during Breakout Rooms, you think bitterly.
Anyway, the first week of classes ends and your brain is a frenzied mess. There’s schedules to memorize, professors to impress, assignments to plan out. There’s definitely no time to sit around and fantasize about the curly haired cutie in one of your general classes. The weekend is spent trying to organize your planner, filling in due dates and exam days ahead of time. It’s your last semester and you’re dead set on making it your best one yet. There’s a lot of written work this time around, analyses and research papers that need to be organized. The road ahead is manageable, but you’ll have to work hard to keep it that way for the next five months.
Most notably, there’s one group project waiting for you, which leads you to Friday. Sitting at your desk, bright and early, absolutely dreading being assigned to your group.
Jungkook is early this time, not like on Monday where he’d been one of the last to filter in, and he’s looking as chirpy as ever. Donning this horrendously hot pink shirt, completely unlike the neutral tones he’d worn during your last two meetings and that decorate his room, and the cutest pair of circle glasses sitting on his nose. He says his regularly scheduled ‘good morning’ to you all and receives a collective response from the rest of the class that not even your professor got.
Speaking of the professor, you’ve been giving him the stink eye this whole time. Not that he can tell, given the fact he’s probably miles away in his own home while you angrily glare at him through your webcam. It’s this old guy who’s decided to sort you all into semester long groups for the class, which is the absolute worst. These types of groups always go the same way: you make a group chat promising to study together, those plans fall through, and then everyone just leeches off of each other for homework answers. And in most cases, it’s you handing over your homework answers because no one else ever bothers to do anything. Sadly, it’s a routine you’ve had to suffer through many times in your academic career.
The thought makes you sick. Having to spend another semester being labeled as the bossy, nerdy dictator of the group? Not exactly how you wanted to spend the last few months of college, but there’s nothing you can do. Maybe this time around you’ll just let it be, won’t fight it (and by it, you mean your lazy classmates when they inevitably try to guilt trip you for homework) and simply let it run its course.
“I’m going to put you guys into Breakout Rooms with your new groups!” your professor claps excitedly, and then you and the rest of your classmates are forced to watch him lean too close to the camera as he begins clicking around to find the preset groups he’s assigned the class. “Remember, guys, this is it for the rest of the semester. So if something isn’t right, let me know by the end of today.”
Man, this was going to suck, you groan. The syllabus had said that the purpose of these groups was to keep you all connected with your classmates during these trying times, to give you the same opportunities in-person learning would. Frankly, you’re not too worried about making friends with everyone in this large class. Most of them are younger than you anyway, save for Jeon Jungkook (he/him) and a handful of others who are apparently in your year. Befriending lowerclassmen only to have to bid them adieu in a few months seems awfully sad, a little too heartbreaking. You really just want to get a good grade in this class, collect the last of your credits, and put this whole college experience behind you.
Your thoughts are wrapped up by the pop-up message that appears on screen.
The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 12
You sigh, contemplate dropping this class for all of two seconds, before dutifully accepting the request. Worse comes to worst, you make up some lie to tell your professor that you’re allergic to group work and hope it works. (It won’t.)
You sit through the mandatory loading screen for a few seconds before being abruptly dumped into your new room, Group 12, or so the message had said. There’s no one else here yet, which isn’t really a surprise. A lot of your classmates are probably like you, scowling at the pop up message every time your professor sends you into small groups before accepting the request. So you chill by yourself, eyes tracing over your own mirrored image. The notes on last night’s reading are neatly laid out before you, your copy of the book off to the side.
Another beat and then, much to your surprise, Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is appearing in your room. “Oh,” he says, round eyes magnified by the thick lens of his glasses, the glare of the computer’s glow casting a funny shape across the lens that momentarily robs you of his pretty eyes. His pretty pink lips stretch into a smile, upper lip thinning out a bit when he flashes you those perfect teeth. “Hi, __,” he greets politely, bubbly.
It’s embarrassing how much his presence affects you, your back going ramrod straight in a terrible attempt to compose yourself. “Hi, Jungkook,” you manage to get out, fingers nervously reaching for something, anything, to ground yourself. They land on a pencil.
Jungkook doesn’t seem even the slightest bit aware of the commotion he causes within you. “I was really nervous for these groups,” he begins rambling right away, lips pushing down into an exaggerated frown as he shivers at the memory. “But I’m glad I got placed with someone hardworking like you!”
Despite how sweet he sounds, you’re not entirely sure if he’s buttering you up just to take advantage of your ‘hardworking’ attitude later down the road or if he’s genuinely being polite. The little information you know about Jungkook wants you to believe it is the latter; he’s very kind, sweet and nice in a way that makes everyone he speaks to feel warm. Still, for all you know this could be some elaborate ruse of his to make you trust him now and then convince you to do all the work for the rest of the semester.
Tentatively, you ask, “and how would you know that?” You try your best to keep your usual snappiness out of your voice, pose it simply out of curiosity. But everything you say or do feels like a stark contrast to Jungkook and his bubbliness.
His head tilts cutely to the side, imploring brown eyes looking at you for one hard second. And then, “I read your forum analysis from Wednesday,” he admits, breaking into a smile. Shy and tiny, bashfully looking down at his desk. “I thought your perspective on the piece was really interesting,” he says, lips pursing together as if he’s suddenly too embarrassed to admit such things to you.
Stunned, all you can manage is one slow nod. “Thank you,” you eventually choke out, trying to ward the heat away from your cheeks as Jungkook sheepishly nods back, cute smile still on his face.
“Oh, please,” he chuckles, raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Don’t thank me!”
It is in this exact moment that you are suddenly made aware of two things.
One: despite his collection of soft sweaters and t-shirts, his bouncy curls and sweet smile, Jeon Jungkook’s body is neither as cute nor as soft as any of his belongings. In fact, Jeon Jungkook’s body is all hard planes and prominent veins. Arms beefy, biceps that bulge beneath the fabric of the short sleeve t-shirt he’s donned today. His shoulders fill out the material nicely, making him look broad and huge, but that’s not even the worst part, because—
—two: Jeon Jungkook is covered in ink. Dark streaks and swirls paint his forearms, curling around his elbow. Every inch of his pale skin is littered with tiny designs. They dance along the back of his hands, over his knuckles, and end at an unidentifiable point beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. When he tugs at the neckline of his shirt in an effort to readjust it, you hope your eyes are deceiving you and that isn’t a hint of ink by his collarbone.
Your normal composure seems to slip away at the mere thought.
It’s Jungkook’s voice that brings you back, a soft timbre that asks, “aren’t we supposed to have someone else in our group?” You flinch as if you’ve been caught ogling him, never mind the fact he’s started mindlessly shuffling some papers around on his desk, not the slightest bit concerned with you.
“Oh— um, yes. I think,” you stammer, feeling like some creep for ogling your very cute, very sweet classmate. The memory of his inky skin nearly sends a shiver down your spine as you navigate back to the class syllabus. “We’re supposed to have at least three people,” you read off, glancing at the boy on your screen who frowns at the news.
“Do you think they dropped?” Given it was still only the first week of school, probably. There had been a fewer number of people in the call when it started, you remembered. Jungkook sighs, this rather light sound that ends in a hum. “Well, we can always wait a few minutes just in case.”
So you wait, nervously bouncing your leg up and down. It’s not awkward, or at least, not as awkward as it would be with anyone else. The other week you had silently sat with another classmate in a one-on-one discussion and hadn’t uttered a word for five minutes. It wasn’t because you didn’t care about the class, but because said classmate had been tapping away on their phone the entire time and hadn’t even responded to your simple greeting. That was awkward.
With Jungkook it’s more weird than awkward. You can tell the silence makes him uncomfortable because he keeps doing these tiny inhales like he’s about to speak, followed by a little head shake where he seemingly stops himself from saying anything at all. He wants to talk, very badly it seems, but holds back for some odd reason.
He’s scribbling on some sheet of paper, leaning forward to give you a view of the top of his head. From this angle, his shirt hangs forward and a silver necklace falls out from beneath the neckline, thuds against the table. And then your suspicions are nearly confirmed, and oh god, is that a chest piece—
You quickly look away.
Robbed of his handsome face and feeling like you’ll die if you look at his body any longer, you settle for your newly acquired favorite pastime: inspecting your classmates’ rooms over Zoom. Yes, you’ll admit it is incredibly nosy, but what else can you do? You can only look at your professor for so long until you inevitably grow bored, attention drifting off to your classmates tiny windows. And with no professor in sight, just gorgeous Jeon Jungkook, you quickly begin your examination of his bedroom.
Jungkook’s room is pretty much the same as you remember it, rather neat and plain. There’s not a lot going on in terms of decoration, which is a little surprising to say the least. Over the course of the week, you’ve watched your classmates’ dormitories and bedrooms gradually change, decorations and tapestries decorating the walls, mountains of pillows added to their beds. It’s only natural that everyone has an innate need to show off who they are now more than ever, and you thought Jungkook would be the same.
Apparently not.
Aside from the guitar you had spotted on Monday, his little dorm room remains unchanged. Blank walls, grayscale sheets. The same perfectly fluffed pillows and then—
A tiny Keroppi plush smack dab in the middle of his bed.
It’s adorable but a little out of place amongst Jungkook’s rather masculine decorations (or lack thereof). A tiny green doll sitting by his pillows, cute striped shirt and ridiculously dopey smile.
Leaning forward, you unmute yourself and conversationally say, “I love your Keroppi.”
At the sudden sound of your voice, Jungkook abruptly straightens up, glasses practically at the very tip of his nose. Eyes wide, it takes him a second to process your words before jerkily whipping around to stare at the aforementioned item. “Oh,” he jumps, slowly looking at his screen again, lips pulled into a tight line. “Um… it’s not mi—“
“It’s adorable,” you add, propping your chin in your palm, absolutely endeared with the rosy color that paints his cheeks, fades down the column of his neck.
He squirms, hurriedly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’ll deny it again, nervously nibbling at his lower lip, before eventually he settles with a sigh. “I won it from a crane machine,” he confesses with a sheepish huff of laughter, rolling backwards to the edge of his bed to snatch it from its spot.
(Of course he manspreads as he sits, dark jeans hugging his thighs as he rolls back your way. His arm looks so strong, covered in all that ink, you nearly drool.)
“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he says, abandoning his embarrassment as he shakes the little figure around, makes it look like it’s dancing for you. “My mom said it looks like me.”
At that, you laugh. Loud and boisterous because you were definitely not expecting Jungkook to say that, such an odd but weirdly fitting comparison that has you looking at the doll in his hands with renewed interest. And through the pixelated screen, you can see the similarities: Jungkook does have the same smile as Keroppi.
“Your mom was right,” you agree, wiping a faux tear from the corner of your eye. “Very cute.”
Jungkook’s got this big goofy smile on, shaking his head in disbelief that you would ever dare agree with his mom. Like he’s genuinely enjoying himself, you think, oddly proud to have evoked that reaction from him. Granted, Jungkook always looks like he’s pretty happy during class, but it feels nice knowing that you were (confirmed) the reason why.
A little caught up with the bumbling feeling in your chest, you’re not expecting his next words. “Does that mean I’m cute?” he asks, still with that same dopey smile on his face.
It’s a bold statement you wouldn’t have expected from him, someone who seems content being the world’s friend, but apparently Jeon Jungkook also craves compliments.
Slowly, you nod. “...yes,” you say, trying to keep the tumultuous emotions inside of you at bay while you grant him this one compliment. Outwardly, you give him what you hope is an obviously feigned look of disbelief, managing to lace it with a little amusement as you shake your head at his inquiry. On the inside, your mind and heart are a thundering racetrack, the roar of the engines and the screams of the crowd enough to momentarily make you lose your senses. “Very cute,” you repeat, hoping he can’t hear the same pounding of your heartbeat in your throat and in your ears as you do. “Like a little frog.”
Jungkook graces your robotic response with the most boyish laugh, head tossed back as one loud cackle (because, really, there is no other way to describe the sound that tears itself from his throat) escapes him, curls bouncing back from the movement. “Cute like a frog,” he wheezes, seemingly to himself as he shakes his head with a grin, scooting closer to the camera again. “That’s a new one.”
“You set yourself up for it,” you defend, busying yourself with the papers spread out in front of you before Jungkook can distract you any further. “Anyway!” you announce, neatly lining the papers up. “Our group.”
Jungkook does his best to wipe the glee off his face, but even as he reaches around for his things, it’s still there. “Right,” he agrees, “we have to, um—“ a huff of laughter “—group contract! Or, well, partner project.”
Briefly, you consider calling in your professor to inform him of your missing partner. He had said to let him know by the end of today if something was wrong. But, honestly, you didn’t see a problem with your group the way it was now. While you can only hope he’ll turn out to be as dedicated to his work as you, as it stands now, there weren’t any major red flags surrounding Jungkook’s character.
Besides, you didn’t mind being with him for the rest of the semester.
You nod, forcing yourself to ignore the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at you through the screen. “I think it’s safe to say it’ll just be the two of us, which I don’t mind,” you say, glancing at the time on the corner of your screen to see five minutes have passed since you agreed to wait. “Do you?”
On screen, Jungkook profusely shakes his head, curls bouncing all over the place. “Nope,” he hums. “I don’t mind at all,” he reassures you, resting his chin in his palm as he regards you, and then sweetly adds, “it’ll be nice with just us, __.”
Right.
You gulp, heart fluttering at the dreaminess he exudes through your screen, the soft strand of hair that falls over his forehead, tickles his brow bone when he flashes you another smile. He was so handsome. Before you say anything silly, you quickly attempt to move on. “But it does make us more of a duo than a group.”
Jungkook looks away from his screen for the first time in what feels like forever and you finally let your heart rest for a second. “A duo,” he murmurs, shuffling through his papers. “Like Mickey and Minnie?”
You nearly choke on your spit, coughing to hide the surprise from his rather cute suggestion. He’s not even looking at you, doesn’t even realize the absolute shock he’s thrown you in by comparing the two of you to one of the most famous couples— that’s what they are, a goddamn couple, not a duo! the words mean two completely different things! —in the world. Instead, Jungkook is humming the theme song to Drake & Josh.
This man was dangerous for your heart.
After having felt all the emotions in the world in the span of ten seconds, you eventually gather the courage to say, “sure,” and quickly try to move the conversation along. “We just need to, um, make some ground rules and responsibilities for us to follow.”
Jungkook nods, finally glancing up again, but not at you. He’s glaring at some point behind his computer, brows furrowed together as he begins brainstorming on his own. You try to, really, but his lips pout adorably when he’s deep in thought, and they’re just so pink and look so soft and would feel like—
“Well, we should probably exchange numbers first,” Jungkook says, interrupting your spiraling thoughts with a new topic to spiral over. He tilts his head to the side, brown eyes focused on you.
“Yes, of course,” you stammer, fumbling for your phone as Jungkook lets out a soft yay at your acceptance of his request. Quickly, he recites his number and you type it in with trembling hands into the number pad, giving him a quick call so he can have your number as well.
You save him right away, just his name followed by the class you share with him. Not like you know any other Jeon Jungkooks, and if you did, you doubt anyone could ever leave such an impact like this Jeon Jungkook.
“__, look,” Jungkook calls, that same excitement lacing his already lovely voice, and you raise your head up at the screen again. He’s waving his phone over his camera, so you don’t get to see his face when he says, “It’s a little mouse emoji and a pink bow— just like Minnie!”
Dangerous for your heart and, most likely, the death of you this semester.
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
#networkbangtan#bangtanhq#jungkook fic#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fic#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts fic#jjk smut#jeon jungkook smut#jjk♡#mine
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Would you mind writing young snape x reader where Lily hates Snapes crush and try’s to talk him out of asking her on a date but he does so anyways?
A/N: Hello! Love this prompt, I'm absolutely obsessed with young!snape x reader fanfics. I hope this little thing meets your expectations xx
Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Some swearing and negative language, mostly nice though!
The Black Lake
“Do you think she would enjoy it?” Severus questioned, looking over at his companion with wide, hopeful eyes. Lily Evans gave him a cold look.
“Don’t know why you’re even bothering to ask her out. She’s bad news, Sev, you should know better,” she said, as she opened the door to the library.
“Bad news? What about her is bad news?” Severus replied as he plopped their textbooks on a table near the back.
“You know! She’s always hanging out with those stupid Slytherins…”
“I’m a Slytherin, Lily,” Severus interrupted, giving her an annoyed look. She had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.
“You know I don’t mean you, Sev. You’re different…”
“Why? Just because I’m your friend doesn’t mean I’m not a true Slytherin. I hang out with those ‘stupid Slytherins’, too.” Two blotches of colour appeared high on Severus’ cheeks, something that was happening more and more often when he got into arguments with Lily.
Lately, he’d been trying to stand up for himself more and counter what Lily would say about his house and housemates. She tended to lump them altogether and rant about the more...negative attributes their reputation landed them. Typically, he wouldn’t mind very much–the Slytherins in his year were particularly stupid at times. But lately, she had taken to giving scathing complaints about you, and he was growing increasingly angrier with each word. You were his only real friend in Slytherin, a feat that had taken a lot of patience and trust, but you managed it. As the years went by, however, something special rose between you two, and it was finally bearing fruit.
“Yes, but you’re not like them! You don’t go around cursing people for fun and practicing dark magic, and you’re not going around calling people Mudbloods,” Lily’s cheeks grew redder. “Can’t you see? If you ask her out on that date, she’s going to drag you right into it, too! She’s a horrible, selfish, annoying slag!” Her voice had risen and people looked over at Lily. Madam Pince gave their table a fierce glare and fingered her wand. Severus’ face grew darker the more Lily spoke, his hands beginning to tremble.
“No, Lily. You’re wrong. I know her better than you, and I know she would never, ever do things like that unless under Imperius. And frankly, I’m tired of hearing you nag on and on about her, especially when you know how I feel. I’m leaving.” Severus said, a tone of finality in his words as he stood up and grabbed his books. Lily looked anxious.
“Sev, wait! I just don’t want to see you make a mistake or get hurt,” she said, lowering her voice to a murmur as Madam Pince turned to face them again. Severus gave Lily a stony look.
“I know how to take care of myself. Bye, Lily.” And he walked away.
He wandered aimlessly. He was too anxious to go to the Slytherin common room and be surrounded by the other people with free periods, but he didn’t want to wait around somewhere he could get ambushed by the Marauders. He sighed, his legs bringing him out to the edge of the Black Lake. He sat on a rock, the waves licking at the place his toes were resting. He pondered what Lily had said to him.
What if it was true? He knew you had a closer relationship with the other Slytherins, something he envied when he first started to get to know you. Your families ran in similar circles, and even though you were a half-blood, you had gained their respect and admiration through your hard work and captivating personality. But, even through all of that, you stayed by his side and only he knew your true thoughts. He knew how much you hated blood supremacy, and you shared a similar view of the Dark Arts and how they should be practiced and regulated. You cared about Potions very deeply, and you were incredibly understanding of Severus’ sometimes volatile nature. All in all, you were the only one that cared about him as a person, and that’s what made him fall for you.
As he contemplated his feelings for you, he didn’t notice you sneak up behind him until you covered his eyes with your hands.
“Guess who?” You said teasingly. His lips quirked up in a tiny smile, enormous by Severus standards. Your heart fluttered, knowing you were one of the few people that got to see it.
“Hello. How did you find me?” Severus asked, scooting over on the huge rock so that you could plop down beside him. You set your bag down and pulled your knees up to your chest, your head facing Severus.
“I just had a feeling you might be out here,” you replied, turning your head to keep him from seeing your cheeks heating up at his intense gaze.
“I–I have to ask you something.” Severus blurted. Your head shot back towards him, your stomach beginning to fill up with little honeybees doing their little waggle dance.
“Yeah, Sev?” You replied, your hands beginning to tremble. Was this it?
“I...I was wondering i-if you would be willing to…” He trailed off, swallowing. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he looked terribly uncertain, the splotches of soft crimson on his cheeks beginning to grow. The echoes of laughter from the grounds reached very faintly to your secluded area, but he was more focused on the blood rushing through his ears.
“Willing to what?” You asked, feeling a little bit out of breath. You hoped this was it. You had wanted this for so long, it hurt you to even think about it.
“Would you be willing to go on a date with me?” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear what he said. You inhaled sharply, hardly daring to believe the words that came out of his mouth.
“D-do you mean it? Do you mean it, Sev?” You asked, moving toward him insistently, demanding his response. He nodded.
“Of course I mean it,” he said, lacing his fingers together in an attempt to stop their shaking and he turned his head away from you and toward the lake, trying to will away his embarrassment.
Your mouth formed into a wide grin, and you covered it with your hand. You felt giddy, excited, elated, all of the emotions. It’s finally happening, you thought to yourself, your inner monologue becoming a bunch of flying hearts.
“Yes, Sev. Absolutely.”
A/N: I hope you liked this. Don’t know if this came off super slanderous towards Lily, I’ve never written her character before but I think she could be mean if she feels threatened in a way. Please let me know what you think and send me more requests, this was so fun to write! Also, if you want to be on the tag list, shoot me a dm!
tag list <3
@agalandhermarvelobsession
#snape#severus snape#severus snape x reader#severus snape x fem!reader#severus snape x femreader#severus snape x fem reader#snape x reader#snape x fem!reader#snape x femreader#snape x y/n#severus snape x y/n#snape x you#severus snape x you#severus snape fandom#snape fandom#snape love#snape community#pro snape#young snape#young severus snape#lily evans#lily evans slander#anti lily evans#tagging it with anti LE just in case#pro severus snape#severus snape imagine#severus snape one shot#snape imagine#snape one shot#harry potter
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Ship game!! What about Nico and Will?? It’s pretty popular, but I don’t think I’ve seen you write much of it…
That's an interesting one in that I have vocalized my reasons for disliking it way back when it first became popular but instead of just linking that, it has been years so I think it's time for an updated version.
Firstly: This post is gonna be properly tagged and not crosstagged so if any shipper comes across it and feels the need to bitch about it, just don't; your lack of curating your own tumblr experience is not my problem! ;D
Now, there are three key factors that play into my dislike of this ship: How it was written, what it represents, how the fandom around it acts.
1. It’s rushed and uncomfortable
In BoO, it was incredibly rushed. They had literally five sentences of interactions before they walked into the literal sunset together. Five. It was just entirely born from Riordan's Noah's Ark Complex, where he just can't let people be single. The series was ending and he needed Nico to have an endgame so he rushed into some random romance with zero build-up.
The way their interactions went down was also severely uncomfortable for me. Will was acting so offended by Nico not wanting to go to camp and be friends in an entitled way that he had no right to be, he downright guilt-tripped Nico about how he had wanted to be friends. Nico has been just so severely traumatized at such a young age and his coping mechanism, as unhealthy as it was, was to run away and hide. Will acted like Nico not wanting to form attachments to people who could potentially leave him again was somehow just an Edgy Emo Decision and not a direct reaction to his trauma. His entire approach to Nico was basically all these hippie posts of "Don't have depression!! Just go out into the sun and stop being depressed!", which is already a bad take with non-medical people but he's supposed to be a doctor (and let's not get into the shadiness of him technically being Nico's doctor).
There is also an inherent "I can fix him" angle to this ship and to me, only few ship dynamics are more uncomfortable than that. If you want to fundamentally change a person's behavior and personality, you... don't actually want to be with this person.
Now, here's where my points overlap, because the following parts of their writing that bothers me also stand for what this ship fundamentally represents.
2. Solangelo is a queer ship written by and for straights
I'm a queer woman and as a queer woman, I want queer wish-fulfillment, not what straights want out of queerness. I'm kind of tired of that, I've been sitting through it for enough decades now. That's, of course, not to say that no straight writer can give proper queer representation, but far too often do straight writers - even the most well-meaning ones - project straight desires of queerness into their queer representation.
Let me explain that closer through this ship.
Nico's been in love with Percy for years and I'm going to do my best to not hijack this post with some Percico agenda; that's not what this his about, this isn't some "my ship is better than your ship" ship-war nonsense. It's simply a canonical fact that Nico has had romantic feelings for another character for years.
A character who, in this medium, is heterosexual. And if you're queer, you've been there. In love with your straight best friend. It's a cliche, but it's a cliche for a reason.
We have also all been well-meaningly rejected by said straight friend.
And here's the straight desires for you: The queer person who was in love with a straight person just immediately stops having those feelings and will then as quickly as possible fall in love with the next queer person they meet to be happy and no longer uncomfortably in love with a straight person, because that thought makes the straights uncomfortable.
Queer wish-fulfillment would be for Percy to return those feelings, for the queer character to get his first love, to not be rejected. That thing queer teens always dreamed about for themselves.
Aside from the wish-fulfillment angle, the pacing is another problem. Let me repeat, Nico was in love for years. But a five sentence conversation with Will once causes a crush on Will and we see him physically turn away from Percy and toward Will just immediately to rebound and actually fall out of love with Percy and in love with Will. Anyone who's ever been unlucky in love will attest to just how unrealistic and ridiculous the pacing here is.
It's also straight queerness in another respect; Nico has been the first ever queer character we meet in that world. He loves a straight guy - and to get over that, we introduce the second queer character. Because heaven forbid there are multiple queers to pick from. No, in straight-written queer romances, there is always that one main queer and then they introduce a second one and the two just immediately hit it off and develop a romance like all a queer person needs to form attraction to someone is the confirmation that the other person shares your sexuality.
Also the notable gay guy on gay guy ship here, whereas the more queer-wish-fulfillment option would have also included more nuance to the queer experience, because Percy doesn't have to be heterosexual just because he has only been with girls so far. It's a very old-fashioned - think 90s and early 2000s - kind of straight-written queerness that there are only exactly two homosexuals and that those two homosexuals then pair up.
And, listen, I'm not immune to these outdated straight-written queers entirely, I have many such ships that I grew up with that I am still fond of because they were groundbreaking at that time and they weren't outdated yet back when they happened in said 90s and early 2000s. I am however a grown woman now and just like I have grown, so has queer rep so I am not as easily baited into falling onto my knees in gratitude for canon rep. You have to go with the times. And this ship, by all that is given to us, is just entirely outdated straight-written rep.
Which, I mention earlier that even straight-written rep can be good. If the author tries. Riordan doesn't really try though; he does the bare minimum when he writes any of his rep - and there have been many, many more qualified voices being very vocal about his depiction of people of color and, as a woman, I've been vocal about his depiction of women. I don't want to derail this post with all of that, but I do think that it bears mentioning that Riordan doing rep but only doing a bare minimum and not putting in the necessary work to deepen the representation he wants to give is a repeating pattern that has been pointed out many times by now.
(I’d also like to point out that no, it is not just the ship and not just the listed instances that make it straight-written rep for straights. It’s Nico’s entire queer arc, starting with his forced coming out. A severely traumatizing event that is completely brushed over because the straight author doesn’t understand the impact this has on queer people. Not to mention the framework; Nico’s coming out isn’t Nico’s story, it happens in Jason’s POV, it is given to us through the POV of the straight bystander who gets to be Best Ally by assuring Nico that being gay is okay. This kind of coming out is not a queer wish-fulfillment, it’s a straight wish-fulfillment of getting to be the straight savior, the ally to show the gay the light of acceptance. And, additional to the ridiculous pacing of how fast Nico gets over his love for Percy, Nico also gets over years of internalized homophobia just because of, I don’t know, Jason’s few encouraging words and the fact that Will paid attention to him? For a gay kid who was in the closet all his life, the nonchalant way in which he publicly confessed his crush to Percy at the end made absolutely no sense and was written as basically a joke, finished off with Nico literally high-fiving Percy’s girlfriend despite those two never having seen eye to eye before but this is straight wish-fulfillment so all straights are Super Allies, because that’s the way straights want to see themselves, even though Annabeth has shown before just how jealous she can be and she most definitely wouldn’t go around high-fiving people who confess to her boyfriend. Nothing about Nico’s queer arc in HoO felt natural or queer or satisfying.)
Sure, Solangelo on a surface level is big because it's a canon queer couple in a YA book-series and kudos for that and yay for the kids who get to grow up seeing queers in YA books, but I actually do think that kids growing up with books written in the 2010s shouldn't grow up with 1990s levels of representation, because the 2010s overall are actually at a far more nuanced and better level of representation when it comes to queerness. And I do reserve the right to quit on too straight-written and too outdated queer rep in a landscape where I can get more satisfying representation elsewhere; we don’t live in times anymore where you necessarily have to love every bit of rep because it’s the only one you get.
Now that we've gone through my first two gripes, let's wrap this up with the final point, because it also directly ties into this.
3. The new wave of antis hiding behind this ship
A huge part of the fandom is so busy kissing Riordan's ass solely for giving them queer rep at all they think that both the author and the ship are beyond flawless and that kind of attitude is not good. Just because an author includes rep doesn't make either perfect. Absolutely no one is beyond critique - especially not when said critique comes from the very people the author is representing. And even beyond any "valid" critique on the ship, quite frankly, someone should also be allowed to just not like it, without any reasons given at all.
But there is a certain... protective obsessiveness about this ship that doesn't allow a not liking. Very similar to how PJO bore this mindset around Perc/abeth already. It's okay to have OTPs, even OTPs that you have a blindspot for and just don't want to see any flaws in. It is however not okay to then go around attacking people who don't like the thing and mind their own business.
Solangelo's bred a new generation of antis in this fandom. And, particularly with the fact that this post too receives an "anti" tag, I feel like there needs to be a clarification (because tumblr likes to forget what actually makes an anti). Not liking something doesn't make you an anti, venting in properly tagged posts doesn't either; it's the people who harass others, who seek out the content they dislike to then complain that it even exists and who actively try to make others stop creating for it - those are antis.
And with Solangelo's popularity, there was a high rise in Percico antis, who sought it out, were unnecessarily nasty about it, harrassed creators and tried to enforce some kind of "Solangelo supremacy" that won't allow other ships for the characters.
I've been in fandom long enough to be perfectly aware that not all Solangelo shippers count into this category and that there are completely normal and nice Solangelo shippers, but this is a Venn diagram where the overlap between Solangelo shippers and antis is too large to not widely associate the nasty people with the ship itself. (I've been there myself, shipping the very ship behind which a fandom's antis all hid. The second-hand embarrassment of having these people give the ship a bad name is horrendous and I do feel bad for all the normal Solangelo shippers.)
The more often I encountered these people, who made Percico bad (sometimes in wildly ridiculous manners that bent and deliberately misinterpreted canon) and who in the same breath praised Solangelo high, the more tired I grew of that ship. It's a simple game of association, really. You see that linked to the gross and nasty behavior and you start associating the ship itself with that gross and nasty behavior - and with all the things I said before that already weighed into my dislike of the ship, this just was the final tipping point, really.
And that's it. That sums up why I dislike Solangelo. It was hastily rushed, uncomfortable in its execution, it is outdated rep that very much feels as straight-written as it factually is and it does not feel aimed at me as a queer person but rather at the straight audience and it has gathered a cult following of quite uncomfortable people who on their own would be reason enough to avoid it so you can avoid them.
Send me a ship and I will explain why I do or don't ship it
#Anti Solangelo#PJOverse#Riordan Critical#Shipping#Ship Ask Game#send me asks#it IS both a positive AND negative game#and I gotta admit#it is nice to put these things#into proper words#every once in a while
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What Goes Around
Pairing: Hardin Scott x reader
Request: Could I please request an imagine/fic with Hardin Scott x Reader and basically Hardin of course has his bad boy reputation but this intrigues the reader. She is his complete opposite and finds his rudeness quite funny. Hardin is a little too mean to her one time and makes her cry. It doesn’t occur to Hardin that she likes him and by that point he feels like he has lost his chance to get to know her because of his.. ‘wicked’ charm? You can choose the ending. Anonymous
Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody
He’s watching you give your coffee order and it makes you smile. Everywhere you go, you seem to run into each other. At first, you’d just steal glances then go your separate ways but then it turned into “hello”. He made the first move and asked if you should have your coffee together one day. Ever since than you’d made polite conversation when you ran into each other and you had to admit that something intrigued you about the tattooed boy who refused to care about anyone other than himself. You couldn’t exactly relate to his perspective on life but you wanted to know more, to understand the boy who considered the world a cruel place rather than an opportunity to happy days.
“This seat taken?” you ask standing with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. The “Red Queen” series have become something of an obsession for you after finishing the first book. You never thought you’d stray from the classics but lately, YA books had been catching your eye.
“I see you’re still on the third book,” he smiles and in the same moment letting you know how he feels about YA books. You don’t take it too hard considering he’s not even willing to admit his love for books for anyone other than you.
“I’m taking my time and enjoying the words.” You have a tendency to get too invested and rush through a book to get to the ending meaning you miss a lot of the little Easter eggs along the way. You’re trying to change that.
“Hey, no judgement from me.” He’s lying but it’s a cute lie so you’ll allow it. Once you’ve finished your coffee, you stand up grabbing your things. You have exactly ten minutes before your class start but you like to get there early in case you need to do some last-minute preparations. Hardin remains seated and you remain neutral in regards to his lack of motivation when it comes to college.
I’ll be going classes now. Want to come?” Okay, maybe not that neutral. He shakes his head smiling and you know what that means. It takes three days before you run into him again. This time at the library where you reach for the same book which sounds completely absurd and something that would only happen in one of your books. It’s a cute moment though.
“I guess great minds think alike,” you say and he scoffs.
“Please. You wish you were as clever as me.” He offers you the book about to sit down when he spots some of his friends outside. You know he’s been a little vague about who you are considering just how different you are to them and frankly, you don’t mind. Hardin is an interesting character because there’s more to him than just the casual alcoholic teen while the people he surrounds himself with at those frat parties really don’t have much else going on for them. You went one time and you’d never been more bored in your life.
“I should go,” he says Within minutes he’s out the door walking in the direction away from his “friends”. After that you don’t spot him for a while or maybe he’s avoiding you to avoid the questions his friends will inevitable have. Either way, you find yourself missing his sarcastic comments. You hadn’t realised just how much of an impression he’d made on you until he wasn’t around. But he comes back to you eventually.
“Hey,” he says when he spots you at the coffee house.
“I thought you’d moved city,” you tease pushing out the chair across from you with your foot. He sits down sliding a book across the table.
“As an apology,” he grins. You turn the book over to see the cover and you can’t help but smile.
“You remembered.” One of the first conversations between you and Hardin had been about ecocriticism and a book called “The Road” that you’d borrowed from the library more times than you could count. You’d discussed the topic in class where your professor had recommended this book and now Hardin had gotten it for you.
“You wouldn’t shut up about the book for at least five hours. How could I not?” He shrugs it off like it’s no big deal but it still means a lot to you. Now you could read the book whenever you felt like it. And he’d gotten the original cover rather than the movie cover. It would’ve been the perfect gift if his friends hadn’t shown up and ruined everything. You see the change in him the second they enter the coffee house.
“Hardin, who’s this?” Jace asks with hungry eyes making you feel incredibly uncomfortable.
“Just a friend,” Hardin offers not wanting to give any information to these people.
“Sure, friend. Do you feel the same way, honey?” Jace asks making the rest of the guys snicker. Before you have a chance to answer, Hardin opens his mouth and ruins everything.
“Yes, friend. I mean look at her. Not exactly my type, is it? I mean, could it get anymore vanilla?” This earns him a high five from one of the guys but it cracks your heart. You’ve never thought much about your close or the way you looked because you thought the inside counted a hell of a lot more than the outside. But hearing that the idea of being with you seemed so ludicrous hurt more than you liked to admit.
“I should get going.” You don’t look at Hardin when you leave and you don’t bring the book with you. If this is how he thinks of you then you don’t want anything from him. And it’s not even the fact that he considers you a friend. If that’s all it was, you’d be fine. It’s how easy it was for him to degrade you that really hurt. You tell yourself you won’t cry but it’s a lost battle as you head home. Unfortunately, you don’t reach home before he catches up to you.
“Leave me alone, Hardin,” you say picking up the pace. You’re determined to reach your apartment without stopping but of course, you can’t help yourself when it’s Hardin.
“Are you mad at me?”
“Mad at you? Of course, I’m mad at you!” you yell not caring who hears you at this point.
“You of all people should realise what it’s like to be judged on the way you look. I like the way I look and I absolutely refuse to let you make me feel bad about it!” You don’t care if he said it because of his friends or not, it’s the fact that it came to him so easily. That means he’s thought it before regardless of the situation at the coffee house.
“It was a joke!” he yells back opting for defensive rather than just apologise. You’re not doing this. You turn around and this time he doesn’t follow you. It’s weeks before you dare return to the coffee house. You don’t want to meet him again. Instead you dive head first into the universe of Jane Austen thinking he could’ve been your Mr. Darcy with his sour attitude and soft spot for you but it didn’t turn out that way. But your need for good coffee eventually win over your fear of seeing him again. The plan is in, order, pay and leave. It’s just not that simple once you’re inside.
“You forgot this.” He places “The Road” in front of you as you’re waiting for your coffee. You can’t believe he’s held onto to it since that day. You figured he would’ve just chucked it in the bin.
“I’m really sorry for what I said. It was rude and thoughtless. You deserve better.” It’s a good apology but you can’t help but think what the insult will be the next time his friends catch you together.
“You’re right. I deserve better.” You get your coffee and head outside.
“Throw me a bone here. I said I was sorry.” Of course, Hardin follows you outside refusing to let this go.
“Hardin, you’re only sorry because I called you out on it. You don’t actually care that it hurt me.” He’s not the first guy who thought he could walk all over you and he won’t be the last but you refuse to accept that treatment. You deserve a lot better than that.
“I’m sorry because it hurt you. I didn’t think you’d read so much into it,” he defends himself making it clear to you that it’s a pointless discussion. He’s not going to understand why what he said was hurtful despite his own appearance and the comments he’s received.
“How could I not? I’m sitting there thinking we might have a shot and then you pull the rug out from under me. I’m not playing these games with you.”
“What?” You don’t bother repeating yourself instead using this moment of shock to hurry away. You manage to avoid him for another week before he corners you on campus.
“You can’t just throw something like that out in the world and then leave. It’s been going round and round in my head.” He has a hand on each side of you leaning against the wall. It’s effective for keeping you in place and distracting you from why you’re actually upset with him.
“I never thought you’d like me like that. Shit, I would’ve done things very differently if I ever thought I had a chance.” This time you’re the one in shock. You didn’t think he’d put so much thought into what you said last time.
“What would you have done differently?” Despite vowing to yourself that you’re done with Hardin, you find yourself curious once again. This bad boy persona with a loving man hidden inside seems like an impossible paradox.
“I would’ve kept you well clear of those idiots from the frat house. Bought you flowers maybe. Taken you to dinner. Bought you a hell of lot more books.” You don’t want to forgive him but it’s hard to think when he’s this close to you.
“I can start now if you’d like.” He places a hand on your cheek and his touch gives you chills. You inhale sharply telling yourself not to give into him but your body has already thrown in the white towel. He leans down stopping inches from your lips.
“I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.” Instead of answering, you lean up closing the gap between you. It’s the first kiss but definitely not the last.
#hardin scott x reader#hardin scott imagine#hardin scott blurb#hardin scott after#hardin scott gif#hardin scott#after gif#after imagine#after blurb#After movie#after we collided#after we collided blurb#after we collided imagine#awc imagine#awc gif#awc blurb#awc
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Some jumbled up thoughts about Elain, Lucien and Azriel + Mating Bonds
There have been a lot of conversations regarding this topic and I thought I’d flesh it out a bit myself, but these are facts/observations that as a fandom many have noticed, discussed, analysed. I just wanted to dive in myself fully.
I want to talk about each of them individually as well as, as a whole. Their emotions and mindsets, as someone who loves all three characters and wishes for all of them to get a happy ending. I will preface this with saying I will be discussing why it is very likely Elain will reject the bond and such things, so along the lines of Anti-Elucien. If you are a fan of them, thats cool, just skip this one if you happen upon it.
We are going to dive in to the following;
Lucien & Elain (their choices)
Lucien & Azriel (contrast)
Rejecting the Bond
New Bonds
Fate & THE POV
and why the writing is basically telling us everything we need to know...
Lucien
Lucien is noble male, he has a good heart and has suffered his plenty, and this is why people want what is best for him, to be the happiest he can... Unfortunately I think that in this case Elain is not it.
He is right to feel that way, just as Elain has a right to feel as she does. I think it is incredibly interesting that when we finally see from his POV we see that in a way he feels as though this has been thrust on them.
That with his last love he had a choice and so did she.
It reminds me very much of this line about Rhysand’s parents, who were an example of an unhappy mating bond.
We will deep dive in to wrong matches further down, but the fact is that mated couples are not always indicators of true paired souls, that they very well could be the couple that do not end up happy together.
I speak on Elain and her agency a lot because I feel like a large portion of the fandom like to discard it as if it means nothing, and even judge her for it but if we actually take a look at Lucien’s behaviour he is not all that more happy.
There are some key differences between them though, Lucien as a male feels their bond to a different degree than she does, and he also has been raised to believe and respect the bond. And thus he feels a certain obligation to honour it in the best way he can.
This doesn’t mean he thinks she is right for him, any further than his attraction to her (which like same dude same), he hasn’t displayed any signs that they actually aline as a couple. And I feel like SJM clearly highlights this when she sets examples of his gifts not being... well right for her.
The gloves we know she never wears show us how little they know each other as she loves to get dirty [which Feyre had told him] and the pearl necklace is then contrasted by Azriels which was very personalised to Elain.
(The rose, the secret beauty of it hitting the light etc...)
These are all deliberate moves by Sarah to showcase their misaligned bond.
And during Elain’s section I will also be pointing out some Lucien moments that really don’t read well for him. I genuinely believe he is much happier amongst the Band of Exhiles than he is when he is seen with The Inner Circus.
Elain
Here is the thing, this situation isn’t any easier on him that’s true but people need to respect Elains feelings, and the fact is she does not like him. Not only does she not like him but she shrinks in on herself, she looses all the progress and confidence she has made since the Cauldron. That is not a good sign of anything healthy.
If this is suppose to be a romance we root for why is she doing everything in her power to make it seem the opposite? If she genuinely was playing the long game she would have at least started to make them comfortable around each other, goodness they don’t even have to talk, but she does the opposite.
She emphasises that he brings out the bad in her. Again, no bueno. She quite simply does not want to be around him and with SJM’s writing I think this is highly deliberate on her part.
[And let’s be clear there are countless quotes from the other books that do NOT reflect well on their relationship but I am trying to stick to ACOSF, as it is her most recent work, otherwise I would be here all day.]
Rejecting the Bond
We have almost a two page discussion on why mating bonds are not an exact science, and that they can be more harmful than good. We are given two examples of it, with both Rhys’ and Tamlin’s parents. And then we get a very subtle hit at Azriel. This is all in the book Sarah said she began planting the seeds for the sisters journeys.
We also know from this there is a choice. But that many force it, because they feel it it right, (much like Lucien is probably doing right now, because he feels a duty and hope that it will work out.)
Then we have the fact thrown at us that a lot of males believe that their mate belongs to them and will challenge the other male, which we now have a call back to with Rhys’ mentioning “The Blood Duel”.
There is literally not one reason Sarah would put this in TWICE only for it never to happen or come close too happening. How anyone can question at this point that Elriel will happen is confusing to me, she has laid all the groundwork for it.
Now I don’t believe for a second that Lucien wouldn’t respect her choice, I think it will most certainly come down to Beron forcing his hand to wage the war we know he wants.
I think despite what Rhys said in Azriel’s POV under immense stress, TNC will protect Elain and ultimately stand by her decision.
Not only does ACOSF spend a great deal of time creating a further divide between Elain & Lucien it also add a shockingly large quantity of easter eggs about “Elain choosing bonds” “Other Mate” “What if it chose wrong?” and again in this book like in ACOMAF we bring back up a failed mated pair to remind you of it’s existence.
All possible signs lean towards them breaking the bond.
And frankly from a storytelling perspective having three perfect bonds that are basically the same overarching love story (enemies to lovers) is boring, she would want to shake it up and throw a little curveball.
Lucien + Azriel & Why I think Azriel will have a bond with Elain.
“If anyone can sense if something is amiss, it’s a mate” And low and behold it is Azriel who figures out what was going on with her. Not to mention in the reveal SJM further displays that Lucien has no clue what was going on with her.
I don’t know what bridge holds their bond but I wouldn’t trust crossing it personally... :/
Further still, Lucien cannot hear her heart. Their bond is definitely not strong but you could also argue that is not an element of the bond at all but rather of her abilities perhaps. Since we know she could hear the sea too though it was nowhere close by.
But Azriel did hear her, he did pay attention and he figured out what was amiss.
It is interesting to me that people took such issue with this when I believe very few have issues with Rhys or Cassian fighting for their respective partners. Now I have gone in to it in depth about how I think that this was pure emotion and illogical on Azriel’s part, and I don’t believe he would kill Lucien so carelessly.
I think it speaks to the same blind emotion a lot of them have displayed for their mates, Lucien may have wanted to see if she was worth it but Azriel knows she is worth the fight.
And for all intensive purposes in that moment he was willing to fight for someone he believes shares his feelings.
Now let’s tackle the whole “Possessive” crap.
First of all, all of the male pairings in this series have shown moments like this, so if it is bothering you here why isn’t it bothering you at other points?
Lucien has been just as instinctively possessive from their bond, and let me clarify, I am not shaming him for that anymore than anyone else. What I am pointing out is the double standard, if anything Azriel has more reason to feel like he can fight for her because she has actually shown him care, interest and attraction.
They have actually bonded a lot more than she has with Lucien thus far.
And if they truly do have an upcoming bond then judging him on three paragraphs when we don’t know what the heck is going on is just ridiculous.
On the same note of that scene, let’s talk about “deserve”
First of all he never said he deserved her, Rhys implied that is what he was gleaning from the conversation and that it is just lust, which we know is not the case. Clearly Rhys perception is not accurate at all so to take his statement at face value and call it fact is a bit disingenuous.
Azriel wasn’t claiming he deserves her, did you read his POV at all?? He didn’t even feel like his hands should touch her let alone deserve her. Please go back and read that chapter again if you can’t see that.
Not to mention I think that the idea of FATE, and believing in hope even when the odds are stacked against you (AKA her having a mate) is actually very consistent with SJM storytelling and Az. Remember this;
The fact that he is hopeful despite the despair of his situation is exactly what people have valued about him. Not to mention after Rhys says this to Azriel he says to them;
So Rhys too believes they were brought in his family for a reason, some sort of fate.
Amren too thinks they are blessed by fate. Why is it so shocking and offensive that Azriel have a little hope that there is a reason they came in to their lives? Because he isn’t with your fav?
Let’s be honest he didn’t exactly get over Mor in ACOMAF, ACOWAR and then even ACOFAS there are slight moments, thats over a long period. Three sisters didn’t just arrive and he went TAG “I want one.”
No, he genuinely grew to care for Elain, and let go of his past, and in watching Elain not find any connection with her mate he saw it as a sign that the Cauldron was wrong, which we know it can be.
I don’t know if people are selective readers but if you think that he doesn’t care for her as a person beyond being a “sister” I don’t know what to tell you, we are not reading the same books.
ANYWAYS back on topic.
I think Sarah has laid a lot of groundwork for her breaking the bond and perhaps choosing a new one. I know not everyone is keen on another bond as they feel her free will and choice is enough, that’s fair and I agree to a point.
I just wanted to analyse the data at hand, and I do believe after ACOSF (I never thought it prior really) that they are mates in some capacity, whether that is because of the Cauldron or something that will occur... I think she has laid enough groundwork for them being Soulmates at the least. Hence why I love the idea of a Carranam bond.
There are so many parallels between Rhys, Cassian & Az that could be taken as little signs but honestly this is long enough I am sure you all want to kill me already for making you read all that hahaha
One last little morsel, it very well might be nothing but Az shouting after they take Elain is an interesting choice, it’s ambiguous enough that you can take it to mean the pain but it could also be another little crumb.
Basically with all said and done I think she will give Elain her agency back and break it.
And potentially something will occur with Azriel as a result but thats certainly more grey than the rest of it.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk!
Obviously, to each their own opinion, have fun and ship whatever you want these are just my thoughts on the text at hand!
(Also I am sorry I got like 20+ messages to get to in my inbox, yeah I kinda ignored everyone and worked on this today, sorry!!! I’ll be back tomorrow)
#elriel#elriel mates#elain archeron#azriel#acosf spoilers#acosf#acotar#azriel x elain#elriel meta#myelriel#anti elucien#anti-elucien
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Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part 11)
A/N- Okay so this is just a short 2k fill in chapter! It’s kinda cute and kinda sad but it was too long to add to the last chapter, and it doesn’t fit in with the theme of the next chapter (though it sets it up quite nicely!). The next chapter is likely going to be a bit angsty but I promise it’ll have a rewarding ending to it! I hope to have it written and up sooner rather than later but, until then, enjoy this little piece.
Word Count- 2028
The ten minute drive from Baker Street to the Natural History Museum went by in a flash- most of it being spent by Mycroft giving you a mental tour of the building's various rooms and the 'most appropriate route to take'. Though it did also take a minute or two for you to convince him to not get everybody kicked out for a private visit, no matter how many people were there.. Admittedly, you hadn't been to the museum for 6 years or so now- after living so long in London it feels less of a luxury being only round the corner from it- but walking through the doors made you feel like a child again. Entry to the museum was free, but that didn't mean you didn't see Mycroft swiftly pushing a few notes into the donation bin at the front before guiding you forwards. Glancing up, you eyed the blue whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling and frowned. Mycroft caught your look and spoke up.
"Ah yes, Hope has been a relatively recent addition to the museum. She was found dead on an Irish beach back in 1891. It's a rather beautiful marvel to gaze upon, though, large as she is, she doesn't quite fill the hole in my heart that was left after my beloved Dippy was removed." Your eyes scanned the skeleton of the large mammal once more before looking back at Mycroft. "I did try to convince the board to keep the diplodocus somewhere but all attempts were futile. There's only so much force you can put into such a topic without exposing yourself as-"
"As a man who loves dinosaur bones more than he loves people?" Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.
"The very thing." Lifting your arm, you rested your hand at the crook of Mycroft's elbow to encourage him to move on.
"When we get home and have dinner we can raise a toast in Dippy's honour.. but for now, my mind's been taken over by that huge statue of Darwin." And the pair of you headed off, your hand very much staying place at Mycroft's arm as you wandered through the rooms- Mycroft more than willing to reel off facts about every deceased animal of history and, more often than not, even impressing the workers with his spiel of facts. Though you were very much enjoying wandering aimlessly through the room of human evolution, you most definitely noticed the pull from the man beside you as he was eager to reach his beloved dino-pals. As you turned the corner into the slightly darkened dinosaur room, you tripped over your feet slightly as you felt Mycroft stop in his tracks, his eyes wide and taking everything in. He looked as happy as a boy at Christmas and, quite frankly, it was adorable. You nudged him slightly when he still didn't move. "You okay?"
"Sorry, it just seems as though, no matter how many times I come here, it always feels like the first." He had shaken his head as though to bring his thoughts back to focus before taking a few steps into the gallery and leading you over to the skeletal remains of a Baryonyx. "The name Baryonyx roughly translates to 'Heavy Claw' from the Ancient Greek's 'Barys' meaning heavy and 'onyx' being claw or talon." He spoke, his voice smooth and relaxed as his fingers brushed over the board that announced the name of the creature within the glass. "It was also an excellent swimmer which it would use to its advantage while hunting." You listened to his every word as he spoke, grinning as he excitedly told you how many teeth it had and it's preferred techniques for capturing food before he moved you onto the next one.
"Oh these beauties have always been my favourite." You almost whispered, taking in the sight of the huge triceratops skull. You barely noticed Mycroft's hand shift from his pocket until you felt the heat of his palm against the small of your back, fingers squeezing slightly by your hip as he spoke.
"Mine too. Sherlock used to say they were boring and that we might as well have gone to the zoo to look at rhinos. He ended up spending 5 months trying to prove that the rhinos were descendants from the triceratops and then avoided me for 3 weeks when he realised there was no connection at all."
"That sounds about right. Though I can't imagine Sherlock enjoying it here very much anyway.." Mycroft began to guide you to a small bench just off the side to sit down, still giving you the view of the beautiful dinosaur bones.
"He didn't. When we were much younger he would kick off until Mummy and Father would tell us it's time to go and I had to go with them.. Then as we got a little older and Sherlock properly found his legs, he would simply run from the doors round to the science museum. Of course mummy and father had to follow him as he was so young, but one time I decided to stay here. They didn't realise I hadn't followed them until it was time to go home 5 hours later." Mycroft spoke quietly.
"Found his legs? That's at, what, four? Five? How young were you?"
"I was 9 the first time, I think." Now, Mycroft, you don't just 'think'; you know. Your hand moved to rest above his own on his knee, brushing your thumb fondly over his knuckles. "But it isn't all bad. Some of my best days as a child were spent here, and a lot of the staff were very kind and would teach me extra facts that weren't displayed. There was one gentleman who even gave me his own copies of some books that they had here. I'd wander the whole museum in time but I always found myself back here on this bench just.. watching. This room felt more like home than my very house sometimes. It was the room where I could escape the real world and find peace. Eventually Mummy, Father and Sherlock stopped bothering with the visits because Sherlock found the science museum boring after he'd prove them wrong on something each time, but I'd still pop back in on occasion without them.. Coming to think about it, I've never actually brought anybody here with me at all." You squeezed at his fingers and settled back into the bench.
"Well I am incredibly glad that I found out about your little interest, and I feel even more honoured that you let me come here with you." You beamed. And it was the truth. Evidently, this little museum meant much more to Mycroft than you could have ever imagined and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you to see him nerd out over some bones.
"Eventually I used this very building as the scaffolding to build my mind palace. My files on Sherlock, very appropriately, are nestled in the human biology room. But most people's information is either stored in the entrance, where Dippy remains over Hope, might I add, or in a few of the rooms I find less interesting.." You didn't have to ask to know he was referencing 'that room with all the bloody rocks'. "I love most of the galleries too much to taint them with information on people that aren't important. The likes of Gregory and Doctor Watson now reside in Hintze Hall as the years have passed." His eyes remained focused in front of him, unblinking, as though he was wandering the very halls at that moment.
"And where.. where are my files?" You had to ask, really. Since he was on the subject anyway. "If you've put them in the marine reptiles room when you know I'm terrified of the ocean I shall never forgive you." Mycroft's hand flipped beneath yours so the pads of your fingers brushed before he blinked and looked over to you, a small smile on his face.
"Here." Oh. Well that's.. something. You shifted to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, knowing he wasn't overly fond of PDA and tugged him to stand.
"And on that note, I think we should go and grab some lunch before you make me cry in front of the dinosaurs."
---
After lunch, you both spent a few more hours walking from room to room (and of course circling round to the dinosaur gallery again) before you decided to call it a day at 4pm. Before departing, you headed towards the toilets that happened to be beside the little gift shop and you had a browse while Mycroft was occupied. Grinning, you picked up a deep blue plush triceratops and stroked a finger across its back. It was just small enough that, after purchasing, you could hide the little guy in the loose fabric of the sweatshirt you wore, acting innocent as you waited back outside near the wall. After going to the bathroom yourself, the pair of you headed outside where a car was waiting for you. Sliding in the back seat, you couldn't contain your little gift anymore.
"Surprise!" You laughed, producing the small toy from under your clothes and into the hands of the man beside you. He studied it briefly before beginning to laugh himself as he reached into his inner pocket and handed you the matching dinosaur, though purple in colour. "God, we're such children aren't we?" You noted as you swapped plushie companions, each of you brushing a finger on its nose as though it were a small pet. "I daren't think what your colleagues would say if they knew you were now the proud owner of a baby triceratops teddy that's.." You glanced at the tag. "..Suitable for children aged 12 months plus!"
"Probably nothing as bad as if they realised said triceratops was going to take proud placement on my desk at home." He beamed. "Thank you, this really does mean a great deal to me." You knew he wasn't just talking about the toy that rolled around his long fingers and you shifted to rest your head lightly on his shoulder.
"We can come back any time. I, for one, know I'll never get bored of looking through the galleries.. Or I'll never get bored of watching you light up as we walk through said galleries. Either or works, really." He hummed in response, his emotions slightly overwhelmed from the day and its revelations into his past. "Plus there were about 10 other little dinos in the shop and I've always been one to want a full collection.. so, if we pace ourselves, that's at least 10 more trips."
"13.. Although that could be tripled if we take the colour variations into account."
"Oh, of course! Can't half-arse a collection or it's just pointless."
"I concur."
"That's settled then. Almost 40 more trips to finish off our collection.. And thennnn we can move onto the figurines." Mycroft let out a laugh beside you and tilted to rest his head atop yours for the remainder of the journey home.
---
The evening between you was shared over a meal (where, as promised, a small toast was made to the memory of Sir Dippy) before Mycroft sat to finish the papers for Greg. Eventually you collapsed into bed at a relatively reasonable time, groaning at the throbbing in your legs from the day's adventure before finally slipping into rest.
---
The next day passed relatively quickly. The morning was spent visiting Greg in his office to drop off the papers before the pair of you took a small stroll through the streets of London. Eventually, Mycroft and yourself even got a text message from Sherlock giving a (albeit half-arsed) apology for his behaviour the day before and the rest of the day was spent in bliss. That was until exactly 17 minutes after you got back home when Mycroft's mobile began to ring. He swallowed deeply, showing you the caller ID of the person he had been dreading to speak to post-Eurus and answering.
"Ah, yes.. Hello, Mummy."
#mycroft holmes#mycroft holmes x reader#mycroft holmes x you#mycroft holmes fanfic#reader insert#bbc mycroft#bbc mycroft x reader#bbc mycroft x you#mycroft x reader smut#mycroft holmes x reader smut#bbc sherlock#bbc sherlock holmes#sherlock fanfic#sherlock fanfiction#mycroft fanfiction#mycroft fanfic#john watson#greg lestrade#lestrade#gregory lestrade#jim moriarty#james moriarty#moriarty
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It's about TGS again, isn't it?
Honestly, part of why I lost interest in Jekyll and Hyde for a bit was because everyone was fawning over TGS while I really quite hated it, not just for the diminishing of Hyde as a properly horrifying, non-babyish character, but also for what I really would consider to be a flagrant disregard for the book and heart of the story as a whole because of the removal of Utterson and perpetuating the "evil alter" trope even though that wasn't what the book was about whatsoever. And, of course, the racism.
Though I also made the mistake of checking the webcomic after a three or four year long winning streak, and I don't know if it's just me, but the way Jasper being trans was handled/talked about makes me viscerally uncomfortable as a trans person, enough so that I can't look back on it to give a proper explanation on why. And no, it's not the "period-accurate lgbt-phobic rhetoric" that TGSjekyll said after the fact, which was given a trigger warning.
However, when I found your blog, it was such a breath of fresh air in a community that was so stifling and frankly ignorant that it single-handedly sucked me right back into the interest, air in a vacuum. In other words, You Are So Right All The Time, and I respect you for having more courage than I to voice your opinions aloud.
Well thank you. And yes it was about that djdkdhskdydeh I just remember waking up at three am a little angry today, mad that a good chunk of people are or have been introduced to my favorite book through an adaptation that completely takes away everything that I liked from it. Such as (checks notes) all of the characters. I also never understood why Utterson couldn’t be there, not even as a secondary character.
Looking back, when I did like and read the comic, I remember being a little mad Hyde wasn’t fucked up looking and waiting for him to compensate by becoming evil and murderous. That really never came. I honestly believe the concept artwork and characters were MILES better than the finished product, if only because, and I can’t believe I’m saying this string of words, Mr. Hyde wasn’t constantly infantilized.
Eugh. Yeah, that was a very weird string of words. “Misunderstood” isn’t exactly the adjective I would apply to him. Like with Dracula I’d get it kinda, but Hyde…?
Another thing that bothered me was that TGS was the only adaptation you’d find in the tags. Well. It was 99% of the book tags. And even now I still see cross-tagged stuff. I admit it was mostly the fandom what drove me away.
TGS would be a better comic if it was solely centered on the original characters and used Jekyll and Hyde as a background force. MazM’s Hyde and Seek pulled that very nicely, and it really kept me wanting to see more of Hyde, since the focus wasn’t on him. But instead it’s focused on a version of the character that is barely like the original, so it’s pretense of being an adaptation is lost somewhere, which is a shame since it has very interesting concepts and characters that should get more focus (such as the blending of magic and technology). Honestly, at this point you could replace Jekyll and Hyde with an accountant that’s possessed by a demon because that’s what I get from him.
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Blackinnon, a measured response.
Would update if more discussions comes out. This post is not for a specific person. If the statement doesn’t apply to you, do not take it personally.
If you think Blackinnon is homophobic, think again!
Here are the facts: yes, Blackinnon is fanon. yes, we are a small community. yes, it’s heterosexual. But does that mean we hate queer ships? No.
Some may think, “Marlene Mckinnon is not even a background character, why on earth does people ship it? They must be homophobic.” This may be a little shocking, but accusing someone of being homophobic just based on what they ship is an act of denigration. You’re just putting hate on other people’s mouth to make them your foe, even if they have no intentions to be so.
We can ship blackinnon and wolfstar or dorlene. Some of blackinnon shippers actually believe those can co-exist. So what is the problem? We can ship wolfstar or dorlene and not blackinnon or the other way around. It’s really based on taste and what they’ve read.
Shipping a straight ship is not an act of homophobia, nor does it make you straight. I could be gay or bi and ship blackinnon. It’s not a hard concept to understand.
I know a lot of people who hate blackinnon rant because they have a passion for their own ship, and I don’t blame them. You can ship whatever you want. But is it really necessary to bring other ship down?
If you have the need to rant and hate about a certain ship, make sure you use the anti tag. If you knew about the tag but still refuse to use it, you’re just writing rants to belittle other people in your favor. Doesn’t sound very accepting.
read more about my points on Blackinnon and sexuality from previous discussions here (x)
Seriously, though, WHY do people ship it?
If you genuinely want to know, then ask the person who ship them. I can’t speak on behalf of all the Blackinnon shippers because they ship it for different reasons. Some ship it for their dynamic, from the fanfics they’ve read, from the headcanons, from their view of Marlene, from their view of Sirius and many more.
For me personally, I ship them for two reasons. Their character dynamics throghout almost all the fanfics i read and, because in my mind wolfstar couldn’t work because of Sirius’s insensitivity for Remus throughout the books (i.e. The Prank, him liking the full moon, giving his riches to harry, his suspicion, etc.), and Frankly i think Remus deserves better. Shockingly, that’s just my opinion. And I have no problem with people not agreeing, but that’s what I concluded when I read the books. and the idea of Sirius having someone is nice you know? The flexibility of Marlene’s character is very inviting for everyone because they have their own interpretations.
Someway or another, you should accept that people have different opinions and interpretation. If you think blackinnon is unbelievably bad, then you do you. Doesn’t mean you have to leave a hate-post on their tag, nor should you blame them for shipping stuff they like.
Blackinnon is a very small ship. And if you hate it, you shouldn’t even bother commenting, responding, or ranting. It just makes people defend it, really. Some people love this ship and you’ve gone out of your way to make them feel bad about themselves. Why?
Marlene McKinnon is not even a a proper character
Here are the facts about Marlene McKinnon: Her name means star of the sea, she is a member of the order, her name is mentioned in Lily’s letter to Sirius, Sirius pointed at her in the movies.
A person that we know Sirius is at least acquainted/friends with makes her a blank canvas. As we all know, Sirius has no romance life in canon, so our options are very minimal.
There are people who ship Sirius with Caradoc, Benjy, Dorcas, Mary, Gideon, Fabian, and so much more. There are less hate for them compared to blackinnon and here’s why: Marlene McKinnon seemed to be in the spotlight because she is second to Remus in terms of possible pair for Sirius. That’s it.
Some Blackinnon shippers like blackinon because Marlene is practically a walking OC. She can be whatever you want.
But people tend to focus on the fact that she’s female. Putting that aside, Marlene is an absolute blast to read. Yes, she’s mentioned only a few times, but the whole point of Blackinnon is the possibility. Isn’t that always the case for fanon ships?
Understand the hate towards Blackinnon
When I first dive into Blackinnon years ago, all I see is hate thrown at them. The hate hasn’t stop, whether it’s from private messages or from hate-post.
The conversations I have with fellow Blackinnon shippers usually consist of the same things, “Why don’t they just leave us be?” and till this day I still wonder.
I’ve done my research, and really I wanted the results to be different.
There are many many many ships out there, using incest, pedophilia, or other stuff, and shockingly, it receives less hate from people. Doesn’t that beg the question?
Do people hate it because they simply dislike it or are they hating it because they have biased opinions about other ships. The truth is, (I’m going to unfilter- god protect me from hate messages) Blackinnon received a lot of hate because it’s the opposite of wolfstar. It’s straight. It’s not Remus. The audacity of people shipping Sirius with a person other than Remus! It’s the same argument for Remadora hate. More than 70% (not all ) of the people who hate on blackinnon and remadora, I observe, is from wolfstar shippers. (Yes, I counted it. I am a math god, and in need of a job)
People don’t have as much of a problem for Sirius/Mary, Sirius/Dorcas, Sirius/ Benjy, Sirius/Hermione etc. They have a problem with Blackinnon and Remadora (I wonder why). I’ll say it again, Marlene McKinnon seemed to be in the spotlight because she is second to Remus in terms of possible pair for Sirius.
Hating other ship to make your ship appear better is.... to be honest, understandable. But to tell you the truth, It doesn’t change a thing.
It doesn’t make me hate my ship. If your intentions on writing hate post is to receive approval from other people, I suggest you search for something else than the topic of hatred.
But, again, if you have the need for the feeling of satisfaction of speaking your opinion of something you passionately hate, then use anti-tag. It’s not so hard.
***CONCLUSION***
At the end of the day we have so much love for these characters, and our biases is only for ourselves. Can’t we just agree that although we love Harry Potter, we can also love different characters throughout the books/movies? There are communities for everything, focus on the community you love, not the community you hate.
If you got offended throughout reading his post, I’m sorry. But let me clear things up, I do not hate wolfstar, queer-ships, etc. I just like blackinnon, as simple as that. This doesn’t prove that I’m straight, or bi, or anything. It’s just what I like. This post is a defense and obviously not a hate-post. What I ask of you is just to leave blackinnon (and remadora) alone. Thank you.
I am doing this measured response so I don’t have to re-write everything every time people leave hate-posts. If you receive this from a link in the comments, thank you for taking the time, and remember that it’s not meant for you specifically. Disclaimer: Do not share this to people in anti tag.
Check out my Ultimate Blackinnon fanfiction masterlist here
#blackinnon#sirius black#marlene mckinnon#sirius black x marlene mckinnon#in defense of#a measured response#sirlene#marlene#sirius#black#i sacrificed myself#please have mercy#what was i thinking#im going to get hated#thats okay#ship whatever you want#how old are you if you still hate for fun#anti hate
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So I initially deleted this because I didn’t want to get into it, but I also think the question is genuine and I wanted to explain my thinking. CW for emotional and physical abuse and sexual assault.
I am tagging @silverlinedeyes because this ask concerns them and I don’t appreciate being vagued, whether it’s a blogger or someone answering an ask that mentions me. I try not to vague other people and I’m not perfect but... just getting this all out in the open.
So I can’t speak for everyone who was upset at the initial post comparing Ianthe and Gwyn. Personally, I kind-of grimaced and was mostly confused about what in the world they could possibly have in common and why such a comparison would be necessary. As people, they are fundamentally different. And to me, the comparison is incredibly thin. Eye color and priestesses? How many priestesses have that eye color? And to use that to connect them to a creature we’ve only read about in two sentences in the whole series, a creature we’ve never actually seen on page and know next to nothing about? Basically, the intention or purpose behind the comparison didn’t make sense to me.
Now I’ll be perfectly transparent - I didn’t read the whole post because I could tell that it wasn’t for me. I also didn’t go around vaguing it. It was mentioned in some asks that I got and I tried to limit my commentary on that post and focus on the comparisons I had made, intentionally. Because 1) I can’t speak from the position of a SA survivor, and those are the people that post concerned, and 2) I didn’t fully read it, and 3) I don’t want to vague people! This fandom is divided enough. I know I made a joke after acosf came out how we are all having separate, loud conversations in the same room and refusing to acknowledge the other conversations while somehow responding to one another. And it was kinda funny at first, but now it’s exhausting.
To me, comparing Ianthe, who is universally reviled as a r*pist, and Gwyn, who we know is a SA survivor, is unnecessary. That’s pretty much what it comes down to. Why do we need to do this? What is it telling us about any of the characters? About relationships? I know a lot of people found it anything from distasteful to downright offensive, and while I think that just about anything is fair game when it comes to fictional characters, I also personally think that the intention behind the comparison was confusing. I just personally don’t understand why we would need to talk about those characters in the same breath. What purpose does it serve? Someone who can speak from the position of a SA can please feel free to add on, if comfortable!
The reason that I compare Az and Tamlin is to analyze them as people, as characters, because I see a lot of similarities in who they are on a (currently) fundamental level - their anger, their loneliness, their attempts to restrain their destructive impulses. These are major parts of who they are as people and how they interact with the world. There were red flags present in acotar that I recognized from my personal life and that I can now see in Azriel. Frankly, it concerns me that people see Tamlin as a completely irredeemable villain, while not recognizing that Azriel shares some of the same personality traits.
Comparing a r*apist and a SA survivor is an unequal comparison. Emotional and physical abuse, on the other hand, tends to be generational. I’m not an expert on a professional or academic level, but I did a quick search on my university���s database, and found this from “Interrupting the Intergenerational Transmission of Violence”, and please note that these lines were the context or background - this article didn’t set out to prove these statements to be true, they are already commonly accepted knowledge and so their research was looking to solve the problem:
Children exposed to domestic violence are at increased risk for a wide range of emotional and behavioural disorders. Conduct disorder, in particular, may ultimately lead to the perpetration of further domestic violence in the next generation. Parental characteristics such as warmth and positive attributions may mitigate the risk for intergenerational transmission of violence.
I think that as a fandom, people really, really tend to mischaracterize Azriel. It bothers me. He’s not soft. I’m sorry, he’s just not. We have multiple examples of him being described, using words like “rage”, “cruel”, “temper”. One of the first posts I ever made in this fandom that got a lot of attention (over four years ago) was trying to correct these mischaracterizations. They keep happening.
There was an icy rage in Azriel I had never been able to thaw. In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. (ACOMAF)
One moment, Azriel was seated. The next, he’d blasted through Eris’s shield with a flare of blue light and tackled him backward, wood shattering beneath them. “Shit,” Cassian spat, and was instantly there— And met a wall of blue. Azriel had sealed them in, and as his scarred hands wrapped around Eris’s throat, Rhys said, “Enough.” (ACOWAR)
Az didn’t answer. I held his gaze, though. Held that ice-cold stare that still sometimes scared the shit out of me. (ACOFAS)
Az had a vicious competitive streak... quiet and cruel and utterly lethal. (ACOSF)
Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper (ACOSF)
These are just a few of the examples, but we can also think about acofas when he gets angry at dinner thinking about how his mother was treated as a servant, when he can’t handle being around people who are happy on Solstice. I could make a whole post but I’m kinda sick of talking about Azriel at this point.
I have experienced an emotionally abusive relationship much like feylin was. I made myself so small, for years, because this person’s anger and anxiety and grief took up so much space in the world. I felt like I had to overcompensate, to not make them feel jealous if I was having a good day, and to not take on my negative feelings if I had a bad day. So I just stopped feeling things. For years. It didn’t go well. I’m still dealing with the aftermath.
I have also witnessed physical domestic violence, as a child. I don’t think I need to explain further than that.
My fanfiction A Loveless Romantic deals heavily with the feylin abuse, and I only feel comfortable writing it because of my personal experiences. I’ve written posts about Nesta and alcohol and another post that I can’t currently find about why acotar is such a good book because it shows us all of those red flags for abuse before many people knew they were red flags. (If I can find it I’ll reblog.) My point is, when I go into analyses and metas like these, they aren’t just an exercise in “oh hey what if?!” It’s “here is my experience with this topic and so here’s how I read this with that background.”
The comparison between Azriel and Tamlin is deeply personal to me, and I didn’t exactly expect to have to disclose my personal history when making it, but when I see people vaguing about how the comparison “hurts people who have experienced abuse”, hi, OP knows exactly what she’s talking about on a personal level, thanks. So I’m going to keep talking about it, because I know what I’m talking about, and it bothers me that people can’t see it in fiction because I worry that they then won’t be able to see it IRL until it’s too late. I’m going to keep writing my “thinkpieces” because this is a topic I know a lot about, it’s important to me, and it’s something that I think a lot of people can and should learn more about.
#acotar#azriel#tamlin#cw abuse#acosf#ask#anon#i really need a moratorium on az#he no longer exists to me#nor tamlin#mor cassian nesta elain and lucien are the only characters to me
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say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 3
Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.
Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader
Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname
C.1 || C.2
Chapter Three:
There’s a memory that haunts you from when you were young. It’s always there at the back of your mind, coming up at the most inconvenient of times. Well, it’s not like there is a convenient time for you to remember such a thing but sometimes it catches you when you’re at a really bad place.
Sometimes you remember it when you have one who hides their phones for more reasons than just “privacy,” one who only takes you out when there’s no one around who knows the two of you, one who disappears without a trace only to come back with flowers and excuses, the smell of another woman’s perfume on their clothes.
Sometimes you remember it when there’s nothing for you to worry about, like now, when you’re under Sam, his weight more comforting than suffocating, trying to catch your breath after a mind shattering orgasm. Your ceiling, something that’s never been impressive before, has your full attention as you try to gather yourself, lure your soul back into your body.
“I-I think. I think I lost my vision for a second there,” you breathe out, earning a chuckle from Sam.
“You flatter me, princess.”
“What was that? I can’t hear either,” you push your hair away from your face. It’s damp with sweat. You’re going to need another shower. “I think I entered another dimension. I think I saw God.”
Sam pushes himself off of you and kisses you gently on the lips. You’d think he was asking for another round if he wasn’t as tired as you. “Not God,” he says, voice deep. He’s caught his breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady. It’s kind of funny that a smoker can recover faster than you. “Just me.”
And it’s the word “just” that sticks to you, that repeats itself over and over in your head, that brings forth the memory that you’ve desperately try to keep at the back of your mind, locked up and buried. It’s the memory of a phone screen, a chat with a coded name, pictures of a woman you don’t know. A woman who isn’t your mother that your father messages, saves pictures of.
You were young when you found out, much younger than you are now, and although deep down, you knew, you’ve always known your father was a man who could not be trusted, a man who had straying eyes, long trips with women he called friends, you were hurt. Betrayed. Because you always thought that things like this only happened on TV, in books, to friends and classmates.
But not you.
And yet, here you are, in bed with a man who hides his phone, disappears for long periods of times, and has a history you don’t even know where to begin to look into. A man who acts so much like the ones before, only sweeter, gentler, but still suspicious.
And you’ve been hurt by men like him before and you don��t know if you can take another blow. Not from someone like Sam.
So, you push away the memory and say, “Just you and,” And you hesitate for a second, find the courage somewhere deep inside you to ask, to finally ask, “And it’s just me, right?”
“You scared me for a second,” Sam lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding and you realize that you had paused at the wrong word, the double meaning. You offer him a small smile, an apology. “Yes, it’s just you.” He confirms and you feel yourself relax, only away now of how tense you were.
“Good,” you say, looking back up at your ceiling. “That’s good. I, uh, I wasn’t sure.”
“This has been bothering you?” Sam gets off of you and you instinctively cover yourself with a pillow as Sam has your blanket thrown over his waist. You never thought you’d have this conversation with him. You never thought you’d get to ask one of your questions and actually get an answer. You wish that you had clothes on for this.
“A bit,” you say. “I know we aren’t, well, a thing, but when I saw you with your sister-in-law and when I didn’t know she was your sister-in-law, I have to say, I panicked.”
“You thought I was cheating on you?” Sam lets out a chuckle like the thought of it is absurd but he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know what went through your mind that day in the café.
“I thought you were cheating on her. I’m not really a fan of being the other woman.”
Sam winces and you can see that there’s something he wants to ask but doesn’t know if he should. Huh. You wonder if you’re that easy to read.
“From experience,” you end up saying anyway, just because you know how it feels to have your questions answered. “It would be nice, I think, if we’re clear on some things. Be on the same page, you know?”
“I’m not looking for a girlfriend.” Sam looks at you straight in the eye, like this is important, that if you don’t get this then that’s that. And you do get it because for all the things you don’t know about Sam, you can at least say you knew this.
“I know. I can’t say I’d be a good one anyway.” You know you can’t base your worth on past relationships but sometimes you can’t help but think that there was something you lacked, that you came up short somewhere, that made the relationships turn sour. Psychopaths and unfaithful husbands aside. “But we aren’t exactly a one-night stand anymore.”
Sam rubs the back of his neck and the action causes you to look at his tattoos, the familiar sight of birds in flight. Tim had mentioned them that day in the café, said something about prison tattoos, and you’d just rolled your eyes at him. But then you think about the scars and gunshot wounds and you can’t exactly say that Sam lives a normal, danger-free life.
“So, what do you want, princess?” Sam asks, reaching down to pick up his shirt. It seems like his clothes weren’t flung too far from the bed. You can see your pants by your bedroom door. “Cuz I don’t know what I can give ya.”
“Well,” you play with the ends of your pillow case just so you have something to do with your hands. There are so many things you want. Answers, for one thing. That’s number one. But Sam looks tired and you sort of feel guilty for springing this on him. Because, again, this isn’t a normal relationship. He doesn’t owe you anything and if you ask for more than he can give, well, this just isn’t going to work.
And you want this to work. You can’t deny yourself that truth. You want whatever it is Sam can give you. So, you say, “It wouldn’t hurt if you’d give me a heads up before you leave for God knows where. It’s not fun thinking you’ve gotten tired of me and just disappeared off of the face of the earth.”
Sam lets out a breath you don’t think he realized he was holding. “A call, I can do that.”
“You can even just text me. Email. I don’t have a pager but if that’s how you work…”
“I’m not that old, princess,” Sam rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll call you. I promise.”
And it’s the word “promise” that sticks to you, that repeats itself over and over in your head, that brings a smile to your face.
...
It’s the same old song and dance and you swear you’d give up your left kidney for the tune to change, for the choreography to switch up, because Tim’s on your case again and you’re getting really close to filing a request that you two don’t share the next few shifts together.
(But then Agatha would be questioning you as well and you’re sure that half the questions Tim asks are echoes of Agatha’s and she’s honestly the harder of the two to deal with. So, damnit, you’re going to have to suck it up. Deal with the kid.)
“Is this really the kind of relationship you want to have?” Tim asks, leaning against his broom for support. The café’s closed for the day and the two of you are in charge of cleaning and inventory. Agatha’s in the back, balancing the day’s earnings.
“This again, Tim?” You glare at the stain on the table your wiping, spraying it once more before scrubbing the surface harder. You’re not going to lie, you’re picturing Tim’s face, attacking your imagination instead of the person. Even if it’s tempting, oh so tempting.
“It’s just weird that he just goes off unannounced and doesn’t come back for weeks.”
“Ever heard of a business trip?” The table is shaking from your force, the surface almost like a mirror from how shiny it’s getting.
Tim scoffs. “I’ve seen your boyfriend—”
“Not my boyfriend.”
“—And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a nine to five office job.” Tim goes back to sweeping even though the floor is clean. He really should get the mop but he hates handling it. “Also, daddy kink? Didn’t think you were the type.”
“Oh my God. It’s not like that!” You groan, throwing your dirty rag at him. Tim yelps when it hits him on the back. Honestly, he should have seen it coming. “And we’ve talked, okay? Ages ago. He doesn’t leave without warning anymore.”
“The bar is really low.”
“Shut up, Tim.” Your phone is ringing, saving you from this conversation and punching your co-worker in the face. “Hello?” You say once you answer your phone, smiling. It’s Sam.
“Hi, princess,” Sam grunts out and you frown at his tone.
“Hi, uh, are you okay?”
Tim is looking at you now, blatantly listening in, and you turn your back to him, facing the painting on the wall. You never really understood this piece, but Agatha likes it.
“Yeah. I’m great! Just—wait a second.” You hear Sam suck in a breath and all of a sudden there’re gunshots. You jump in surprise, shoulders rising, tense, and you have to pull your phone away from your ear from the sheer volume of it. “Okay. I’m back.”
“Sam. Please tell me you’re playing a video game.”
“Huh? Yeah, sure, if that makes you feel better. Wait.” You hear the crunch of gravel, quick and quiet footsteps, and then the sound of surprise before a crack and thud. “Sorry. Anyway, so I have a problem.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what it is.”
“It’s nothing bad. I promise,” his voice is quiet now. Like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear him. “Y’see. I told you about my job, right?”
“I mean, all you said was you were going to…I want to say Japan. You were in India last time.”
“Yeah! Beautiful country, by the way. We should go next time.” Sam says in one breath and you feel your heart skip a beat. A trip? With Sam? “If I don’t get banned from the place. Which would be a shame, really, cuz the food’s great—hang on.”
There’re gunshots again and then running. You don’t realize that you’re outside the café until a strong wind blows by. You had walked out the door when it seemed like this wasn’t going to be a normal check in. Which was almost immediately, to be frank. From the corner of your eye, you see Tim watching you, broom still in his hands, the rag on the floor by his feet. You wave him off, turning your attention back to Sam. You hear him shout “This is a goddamn temple! Show some respect!” before he gets back to you.
“Where was I?”
“What the hell is going on, Sam?”
“Nothing to worry about, princess. What there is to worry about is my fish.” Sam’s whispering again, ragged. He’s catching his breath. “Y’see. I told you where I was going but I forgot to tell my little brother and, well, someone has to feed my fish.”
“Oh.” You ignore the crunch and thud you hear from Sam’s line. You’re too busy thinking about this fish you’ve never heard of. There’s so much information to unpack right now but the fish is what you zero in on. It’s the only thing that makes sense. “Oh shit.”
“Oh shit’s right. I can’t believe I forgot Jimmy like that.”
Jimmy? “Can, can a fish live this long without food?”
“Now, princess, that’s not the kind of talk I need to hear right now.” There are sounds of movement again. Rustling now, too. Like leaves. “I need you to tell me that Jimmy’s going to be fine. That I did not just leave my fish to die alone.”
“I’ll go to him. Just, uh, I don’t have your key.” You know where he lives, you’ve been there a few times when all of this started, pre-Jimmy, but Sam was always there. You never needed to go there alone and you were never left there alone.
“You have one. I left my spare in your room. Y’know, for emergencies.”
“Were you ever going to tell me that?”
“Didn’t think I had to. It’s in plain sight, princess.” He grunts out. “Listen, I have to go, but check your dresser. It should be there. Save Jimmy!!”
Jimmy is, thankfully, miraculously, fine. His tank needs a little cleaning but you’ve fed him and made sure that there’s enough water for him to swim around in. The top of his castle was starting to peak out. When that’s all done, you send a picture to Sam. You don’t think he’ll see it anytime soon so you toss your phone away and collapse onto his couch.
You’re tired. Apparently getting Sam’s spare key wasn’t as easy as you thought because after sprinting to the bus stop and up the stairs to your apartment, stumbling into your bedroom, you did not find a key at your dresser. No.
After messing up what was once an organized table, you find a note that was clearly written by Sam stuck on your corkboard along with all your other notes written for yourself. Reminders that you needed to go through before the start of your day. Things you’ve long since memorized and never bother to read anymore. That’s Sam’s idea of an “in plain sight” note. Which is also a clue, a riddle that led you to another part of your room, then to your kitchen, underneath your couch, and then to your bedside table, the side he sleeps on. There you find the key taped under a laminated flower. It was the one you had with you when you’d first met Sam. And if Sam recognized it, and you’re pretty sure he did, well you’re glad he wasn’t around for you to find it.
Your phone rings, jolting you out of your daze. You almost fell asleep, the adrenaline gone. You reach for it, refusing to leave your spot, and manage to answer it before the caller hung up. To your surprise, it’s Sam.
“Finally figured out video call?” You say once his face appears on your screen. His holding his phone a little too close but you don’t correct him, finding it cute.
“And you found the key!” Sam says back. “Thanks for saving Jimmy, princess.”
“I read somewhere that goldfish can actually go two weeks without food.”
“Doesn’t mean he has to. C’mon. That’s my roommate.”
“I’m just saying,” You smile because even you wouldn’t want to leave a fish hungry. “Oh. Also. You and I have completely different interpretations of ‘for emergencies.’”
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“If I left you something for emergencies, I’d like to think you’d be able to get to it immediately.” You whip the smile of your face. Exchange it with a raised brow, an unamused gaze. “Making me hunt for clues all over my apartment isn’t something I’d like to do in emergency situations.”
Sam lets out a laugh. “Ah. Well, I guess I picked up a few things from work.”
“It would have bitten you in the ass if I didn’t find that key.”
“I had faith in you, princess.”
...
Chapter 4
Read on AO3
#samuel drake#sam drake#samuel drake x reader#sam drake x reader#sam drake fanfiction#uncharted#uncharted 4#uncharted fanfiction#a thief's end#fanfic#self indulgent writing
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