#[ au. be noble for you are made of stars ]
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>> 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄
>> scaramouche x kitsune reader ( reverse au )
Instead of abandoning kunikuzushi in the original time line, ei decided to keep him and make him inazuma prince as well the shogunate and leader of inazuma in her place while she's meditating. Him and the head shrine maiden seem to have chemistry together
Inspired a fan art of this au, credits to the artist
After his creation, kunikuzushi was soon crowned to be the prince of inazuma as well as the shogunate of the ruler of inazuma in his mother's place while she was meditating in the plane of euthymia.
He was known as a cold, calculative, cruel but also can be caring for his people, he takes his position with seriousness as well as pride being the son of the electro archon.
In front of the citizens of inazuma he is a strict as well as strong leader. He upholds the rules of the inazuma in high regards following his mothers ideal of eternity.
Amongst the electro nations there are powerful clans as well as powerful warriors and individuals lurking in the nation but not one will be on top of the head of the shrine maidens.
The most powerful yōkai of the current era, the leader of the Narukami shrine as well the heir of kitsune lineage your position was second to the electro archon himself. You were also recognized to be the prince muse.
During your childhood you would visit the electro archon and meet him during his early creation, you and him one time intertwined your hands together and a spark emerged from this action. Even tho he was a puppet he could feel the connection and warmth from this action.
No one is allowed to insult you, it's the same equivalent of insulting the prince himself and anyone would ever do this blasphemous act it's an insult to the electro archon and will be immediately stripped from their position or will be struck by lightning.
You were allowed to visit tenshukaku without permission due to your position, as well when you walk by the guards in order to give a small bow towards you.
Sometimes when duties get too hard, he would lay his head on your lap or chest to hear your heart beat, when he finally knew your present or heard your heartbeat he could rest peacefully knowing you will be there.
One of your duties is to exorcist bad spirits and protect inazuma from them. If there was a spirit that is going rogue in the land you personally would go to the area and banish it, he would tag along with you to make sure you're safe no matter what if he has duties, he will put it on hold because your safety is his priorities amongst all.
You and him sometimes would take a walk together and eat together, many locals recognize you but the prince himself going out with you is something new. Even tho he doesn't have the necessary to eat, he usually enjoyed it because it feels nice sharing a meal together with you.
He would brush your tail due to it bringing comfort towards you, your tail is soft and very puffy as well as big ( similar to Tingyun tail from hsr ) the reason it's big is because it is a combination of your other tails into one.
Sometimes when he's doing paperwork, you would shift into your fox form and lay on his lap and he will continue to pet you.
You bring him comfort as well a lap to lay on when he talks about how he dearly misses his mother even tho he is not allowed to enter the plane of euthymia because it would disturb her meditation. You would comforted and ease his worries.
You would be adorned with expensive kimonos and jewelry from him, exquisite hair pins, kimono made from the finest silk and jewelry made from the rarest of diamonds would be given to you by him.
His favorite activity with you would be admiring the stars or sun on top of tenshukaku as well admiring the fireworks of the festival with his head laying on your shoulder.
He easily gets jealous when a noble man or other yōkai approaches you especially a certain oni who wouldn't stop approaching you and seeking your attention.
He has absolute confidence in your abilities, you're the most powerful yōkai in the current era of inazuma he would always be there to protect you if there's ever a situation of you getting hurt he would personally hunt the thing that dared to hurt you.
If there was ever a battle you and him would stand side by side together, fighting together. Protecting each other.
#genshin fanfic#genshin headcanons#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin wanderer#kunikuzushi#kunikuzushi x reader#wanderer x reader#genshin scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#genshi scara#kitsune#raiden shogun#reverse au#genshin reverse au#genshin fluff
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The History of Lightcannon
Warning, this is very long so buckle up. (Also spoilers for Arcane)
For those wondering where this ship came from and how it's bloomed from something that was pretty niche into something nearly mainstream. It's an interesting journey. So let's dive in.
(Note - Updated post with more information on the history. It's actually older than I realized.)
Let's start with some context, Lightcannon is the name of the ship between two characters from the MOBA game, League of Legends. Officially launched in October 27, 2009.
Luxanna Crownguard (though she prefers Lux) from the kingdom of Demacia. She's a mage whose skilled in light magic. She became a playable champion on October 19th, 2010. She is literally the Light...
...To the Cannon known as Jinx (formally known as powder.) from the slump of Zaun. A psychopathic loose cannon whose also a uncertified genius when it comes to tinkering. She became a playable champion on October 10th, 2013.
Both residing in the world known as Runeterra.
Now you might be wondering, "How in the hell does a pretty blonde noble mage girl from a kingdom of knights get shipped with a blue haired psycho steampunk Harley Quinn knock off that's a continent away?" (Don't pretend Jinx wasn't made to cash in on the hype of Quinn. Riot is known for cashing in on trends.)
(edit 12/3/2024)
Well originally, I thought it was due to the Cosmetic Skins that League is known for releasing for it's champions. They usually have some fun special interactions with characters and even some lore. Creating AU's of sorts. Some are one shots, and others get expanded up into full on spinoffs with stories and their own expanded narrative.
In 2015 RIOT launched the Star Guardian set. Basically a Magical girl set for the characters: Lux, Jinx, Janna, Poppy, and Lulu. And this set is what many thought kicked off lightcannon. Myself included.
In the Star Guardian lore, they are childhood friends. With Lux being described as, "Cheerful, courageous, and just a bit clumsy. Lux shines the brightest among her Star Guardian team as its captain."
While Jinx is described as, "The cynical teen rebelled, refusing to treat her powers as anything more than a plaything to serve her own interests. While Jinx scoffs at protecting a world she doesn’t trust, she does believe in her childhood friend Lux—and if someone could see into the depths of Jinx’s heart, they’d see a furious, burning need to keep those she holds dear out of harm’s way, at any cost."
If you are at all familiar with Magical Girl shows, you can see how this kicked it off. There is always an undercurrent of Yuri in ever MG series. For this, the classic, Good Girl x Bad Girl with a heart of gold. This even got it's own cinematic. With plenty of shots of Lux and Jinx Longing for each other.
youtube
With some rather fun interactions in game.
And a classic scene from one of the stories
However, it was pointed out to me by @questionablecuttlefish there were people before the star guardians that were already shipping them together as for back as 2014!
Barely 3 months after Jinx was released. The first lightcannon fanfictions started to appear. Which is kind of crazy!
This also pre-dates ekko - who became playable on May 29th, 2015!
Now at the time, Jinx didn't have much lore. She was just the crazy boom girl, and it was hinted at that she had a history with Vi and Warwick. (Too be fair, VI's lore was kind of all over the place and she was mainly "Police Brutality, LoL.) So she was kind of malleable.
Lux however had a lot of lore. She was born into a high standing Noble family that is sworn to protect the king. Hence the name Crownguard. She is depicted as a bright, cheerful, and optimistic character. She's also related to the champion Garen, her older brother. However, she is a mage and magic is hated in her country of Demacia. So, she has to hide who she really is. Garen does know and accepts her. There are also a number of stories where she has done very questionable things. One of her decisions led to her trusting the wrong man, Sylas. A criminal mage that tricked her into helping him escape. Which ended up triggering a mage rebellion, which led to a lot of people dying. (And her OG lore, she operated as a spy. Which some people have played with.)
Sounds familiar right?
So a big part of what drew these two together was the potential these two could have if they met. The idea that Lux finds someone who encourages her to be herself. To let her magic free and accept all of her. Which could also apply to Jinx as well. The idea that they could be who they truly are with each other. And still drawing a bit from the Star Guardians down the line with the whole Good Girl x Bad Girl.
Again, this was still pretty niche. Very much a crackship, but people were pretty creative in what they thought of.
Then came a big shot in the arm for the ship, the Cinematic trailer for Wildrift.
youtube
This trailer had jinx hoping around runeterra and grabbing people to join her team to fight. The first person she grabs in Lux, whose bored and wants something exciting to do. And here comes this manic pixie dream girl who pops out of nowhere, jumps in her laps, takes a selfie, and then pulls her into a portal to fight a giant monster like she wanted. Plus the fact that Lux can create pretty shiny lights and massive magical explosions doesn't hurt either. With a lot of the promo stuff having them act like friends helped to fuel it further.
And then, a year after this, Arcane launched!
This not only gave Vi more depth, but also Jinx (Originally named powder). She went from, "lol, random, psycho murder, boom girl." To an incredibly tragic character who who just want to hug and tell her everything is alright.
And it wasn't that we wanted Lux to fix Jinx, we wanted them to help each other. And with the ending of season 2, the viability of Lux and Jinx actually meeting skyrocketed even further. With Jinx faking her death and sneaking onto an airship that was seen over open water.
Possibly to Demacia to get a fresh start? Not impossible. Maybe even be her guiding light.
Additionally between season 1 and 2 or arcane. There was this fun little Chinese Animated web series called, Valoran Town. It didn't have too much an impact on the ship, but was still a bit more fuel for it.
Basically, a slice of life series about the champions living in a small town. The main story focusing on Lux as she runs away from home trying to live free and independently from her overbearing Brother Garen. Her best friend and now roommate in the series is Jinx! Since a lot of promo material for wildrift did have them acting like friends, this felt like they were kind of leaned into that angle. Which worked pretty well.
Each episode is about 5 minutes long, but it's just super cute and fun. Also a nice pallet cleanser from the heart ache of arcane.
This person was kind enough to upload and subtitle all 12 episodes.
Give it a watch, it's free. (Just turn on closed captions.)
So, yeah. That's the history of lightcannon. We love it for many reasons, but for me. It's the potential they could have. It's very much a crackship, but I will sail it everyday. Hope you learned something.
And some funny things to think about.
Lightcannon and Caitvi/Piltover's finest means that Jinx and Vi have the same taste in women. Upper class femme.
But it also means the Crownguard sibling also have the same taste in women. Or, at the very least, have a kink for criminals/killers.
Garen with the Noxian assassin Katarina.
Lux with Sylans and Jinx.
Which would also make Lux and Jinx Bisexual too, so represent.
Yes, I support timebomb too. Arcane Season 2 episode 7 is beautiful. I see why people ship Ekko and Jinx together. I'm a multi-shipper. You can do that. They both love Jinx, and she deserves all the love.
#lightcannon#luxanna crownguard#jinx league of legends#jinx#valoran town#arcane#league of legends#lux#shipping#lol#bisexual#wlw#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2#Youtube
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wait wait wait, your requests are open for noble bell for this weekend only? (if i got that right?!) sound perfect gimme 14 of em. anywhos if i did not getting the date wrong i have one! and if i i did please just let me shrivel up and die, thank you.
post college rollo and reader who live together as “roommates.” they’re 100% more than roommates and everyone can see it but them. rollo is probably some senator or something and insisted reader moves in with him cause he insists that since he’s making laws more just for magicless people there’s literally no where safer for them to be. just basically some domestic fluff with two people who act like they’re married and don’t even realize it. i personally think it would be way cuter to read from the perspective of a third party but if you’re willing to write this you can do it anyway anyhow and i’ll still be happy. thank you! <3
(if i got the weekend wrong i will absolutely die so please let me down gently, i am accoustic so i no no understand very basic things such as “this weekend” or “next saturday” if the day of the week is before a saturday)
oooh a bit of a future au... this is cute
*ੈ✩��₊˚ and they were roommates
type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda written from a 3rd perspective
Rollo Flamme's favoritism had never been a secret.
He might have been quiet, reserved, repressed beyond all reason, but there were some things even he couldn't hide behind his star-spotted handkerchief.
The very moment you arrived at Noble Bell College, you were his.
Rollo Flamme beheld you with a sort of reverence that could be called sacrilegious. That is to say, one had never seen idolatry until one had seen the way he looked at you, the way he touched you as if you were made out of porcelain, as if he could break you with an unclean hand and a breath.
His coldness and cordiality towards the others never changed.
For all your kindness, your smiles, your gentle touches upon his cheek that he would never have let anyone else give, you could not change him. And you did not try.
It was a tragedy in two parts.
Not that it mattered, of course. Not to you.
As far as you were concerned, the world began and end with each other. In a room full of people, mages and scholars and royalty, Rollo Flamme would still only look at you.
Nothing was confirmed. Your affection for one another was kept to lingering touches and burning glances across the long, morose hallways of Noble Bell.
If anyone had asked, and they certainly did, Rollo's handkerchief would come to sit over his mouth and he would remind them that gossip is unbecoming.
And to be decent, thank you.
Yet the rumors could never be smothered, and they lingered after Rollo's first graduation, and another, and to his seat on the Fleur City Council.
You lived with him.
You lived with him, in his family home.
And he would continue to deny anything romantic, giving the same excuse that he had since Noble Bell, that you simply had no one else to look after you, and it was his duty as a civil servant to see to your care.
Which was utter bullshit.
But, perhaps, bullshit that you both believed.
Outside of the council, it was rare to see him alone. When he went out, he went out with you. When he attended public events, you walked by his side. When he worked at home, you sat in his study, by the fireplace, as if you had always belonged there. With him.
Rollo would excuse himself from small talk and after-hour business like so:
"It's been lovely talking to you, Senator, but I'll be late for dinner,"
"Please, come by my office first thing tomorrow morning. I'm expected at home,"
"I'll have to be going, now. I have an excursion on the town tonight. With whom? Well, whom else?"
It became widely accepted, amongst his colleagues and the public, that Rollo Flamme was married. One might not have guessed, of course, from his cold demeanor, but rumors of the magicless alumni from Noble Bell that he so adored smoldered.
Rollo did not concern himself with the whispers or the knowing looks his colleagues gave each other, until a warm day in late March where a well-meaning secretary from another branch asked if he had any children.
"Children?" he had scoffed. "Why would you ask such a thing?"
The poor secretary looked like he had seen a ghost. "Well... you're married, aren't you?"
"Absolutely not. What gave you such an idea?"
And he seemed reluctant to answer.
Rollo had gone home that night with much on his mind. When you asked him if anything had happened at the council, he said "Nothing eventful".
To Rollo, who had lived in Fleur City, lonely yet not alone, for so many years without a kindling of friendship and not a thought on romance, he had never once questioned your relationship. You were his companion. His first, and last. That's all that matters.
Isn't it?
He could ask for nothing more than you. Your voice, your smile, your hands and warmth mingling with his. He was happy with you. Your friendship is enough for him.
Isn't it?
Despite what he tells himself, that night, when you sit close to him in front of the fire, reading a book he recommended simply because he recommended it, Rollo finds himself looking at you twice as much as usual.
He puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, and you stay there, as if you had always belonged there. With him.
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── .✦ 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑
précis: suguru, a servant of your household, wrestles with the complex feelings of loving a noblewoman.
contents: pining, suguru!pov, implied classism, internal classism, envy, forbidden longing, resentment vs yearninggggg, historical romance, 1900s au, fem!reader, 1.0k wc
It was easy to despise beautiful things.
The things that shone, that flowed, that bloomed amongst the bleak — that made artists falter and poets weep — bound the miserable together.
Perhaps, that was why Suguru despised you.
He despised your lips, stained with the blush of cherries, and the sweet, fleeting scent that lingered on your skin.
He despised your hands — slender, warm, and impossibly delicate — hands that seemed to belong to a world gentler than his own.
He despised your voice, lilting like a bird’s song, soft as the breeze that warms the bitter cold.
Most of all, he despised that even if you had nothing, like he, your beauty would still be enough.
(This was a lie and he knew it. What he despised most of all was that his loathing was built atop a craving — a palpable thing that made his teeth ache and his bones tremble; he could hardly bear it, this furious tenderness.)
He watched you dance, bathed in candlelight, and he wondered what life might have been like with a face and hands like yours (or your face in his hands, or your hands on his face.
To embrace your light, or to shadow it. How could anyone not wish to do one, or both?)
An ugly thing, deep in his soul, festered — feeding off the shame he felt for simply existing in your general direction, for loathing you yet longing for you the way he did.
And like all beautiful things — you felt it. Faltered in step as your eyes flitted to his, wide and probing, searching for a way to right the wrong of someone yearning for you in such a twisted, impure way.
Your twirling slowed — then ceased, and you waltzed over to where he stood, a smile curving your rose-hued lips.
“Enjoying the ball, Suguru?” You reached towards the silver platter that balanced in his hold, retreating with a glass of wine, fingers grazing against his ever so slightly as they slipped around its stem.
He watched you take a sip; daintily, with your head ever-so-slightly craned and throat bared to him. “Please,” he chided, voice a measured strain, “do not address me so casually. Mr. Geto will suffice, Miss.”
“Oh, Suguru, what need have we for such formalities among friends?” you cooed, placing down your now empty wine flute upon the tray. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
(How typical of a spoiled noble to misunderstand their lack of courtesy; how typical of a blazing star to not realise she burned her surroundings.)
He withheld a scowl, replaced it with a tight-lipped smile instead. “Except I, a mere butler, am most certainly not your friend, Miss.”
“Sugur—” His gaze narrowed. “Mr. Geto. Would you not like to be my friend?”
“It would be most improper.”
The orchestra played a new tune — a lively thing, that people joyously gathered and scattered for on the wooden floor. You continued to hold his gaze with your own, brows raised as you murmured:
“That was not my question, Mr. Geto.”
Your tongue glided across your bottom lip, caught a stray drop of wine, and Suguru’s mouth watered. He’d only had a single glass and yet, his head swam. Or perhaps, it was something else that was catching him off-kilter, disorientating him in the way that you did.
(Because it was no accident, he noticed — the way the pads of your fingers slid away from the glass and glided against his; no accident, the subtle curve of your hip that pressed against his waist when you drew near. The way the velvet of your dress trapped his shadow, like a moth grasped between fingers.)
He took a chance to step away — tried not to notice the way the plush curve of your bosom swelled, as if taking a sharp breath, though your face betrayed nothing of the kind.
He allowed his gaze to trail you, like a guilty voyeur, a starved man eyeing a delicacy, a secret he had always wanted but was forbidden to taste. Just like you wanted him to. (Beautiful things survive off attention, after all. Be it perverse or pure, as a rose blooms on a dead man’s tomb.)
“I suggest we not tarry here further, Miss,” he hissed between clenched teeth. “People may speak.”
“Hah. If I was worried about ‘people’, Mr. Geto, I would not have asked.”
(How typical of a spoiled noble to misunderstand their lack of courtesy; how typical of a blazing star to not realise she burned her surroundings.)
A sharp intake of air tore his lips apart, like a sudden storm ripping off the last of an autumn leaf, and a cold rush flooded his nostrils. “I must see to the other guests now, Miss,” he replied tersely. “Please excuse me.”
He bowed, clasping the silver tray to his chest as if clutching for his heart — to staunch the flow, before it could spring forth and ruin him. You followed his form as he stepped back, the fabric of your dress dipping at the apex of your thighs with the movement; a brief promise of the hidden warmth below, a glimpse of bare skin just within the threshold of shameful.
“A pity, Mr. Geto. It appears there is not a glass empty enough for our conversation to come to its end,” you murmured, as people spilled around you, flitting back and forth across the ballroom in a breathless flurry.
“Unfortunate,” he agreed.
Your lips thinned. He watched them purse. Saw the slight rounding of your eyes that usually preceded a flash of mischief, a flame that threatened the darkness, that sought to pry it open and swallow.
“The wind, Mr. Geto. You are as elusive as the wind.”
And even the words that spewed from your lips were beautiful. His legs nearly bucked.
To despise a beautiful thing would be his tragedy.
𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐞 © 2024 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. it is prohibited to reproduce, distribute, or transmit my works in any form or by any means! ノ masterlist
#suguru gender envy is canon btw#suguru x reader#getou suguru x reader#suguru fluff#geto fluff#geto angst#jjk fluff#jjk drabble#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu geto#jjk angst#suguru angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#geto suguru#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#hark the angel’s sonnet ༒︎ ࣪ ˖#jjk suguru
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most noble ; kento nanami.
pairing kento nanami x f!reader word count 3.6k synopsis your beloved knight nobly defends your honor by participating in a tourney to duel the man who insults you. he does not realize that the reward for his victory is your hand in marriage. content contains medieval royal au, knight!nanami & princess!reader, age gap (reader is 22/nanami is 29), longing!!! it's about the pining!!!, requited unrequited love, romantic tension, nanami being hopelessly in love but feeling undeserving :( author's notes omg can y'all just get ur acts together n marry each other holy shit (make me make a pt. 2, plssss)
Kento Nanami knows that he’s made a mistake, perhaps one so major that not even taking another professional role within the castle will be able to cover it up. Then again, it’s not like him leaving his post the first time around has resulted in any change. Maybe him leaving only to return back to your side once more is precisely the reason why he’s making so many mistakes.
For example, earlier this week, his fingers brushed against yours while handing you your tiara. Or, just before that, he found himself remaining only two steps behind you rather than the traditional three. And maybe he’s just paranoid, afraid that he’s being obvious and overly obnoxious in his displays of affection for you, but he did not earn the title of Head Knight of the Royal Guard for no reason. The king — your father — would not have bestowed such a prestigious title to a man who is not always proceeding with constant caution.
To any visitor of the court, Sir Nanami is just another highly skilled knight, dedicated to protecting the princess. To Nanami, he is a lovesick fool trailing after you, failing to mask his true affections.
No one sees through him, except for the one person who he so wishes were blind to his feelings.
Easily excitable and sweetly endearing, you are the heiress to the throne and future ruler to citizens who adore you. It’s hard not to fall for your charm or the kindness that you bestow upon anyone who comes across your path. You’re considered to be the sun that shines over the kingdom, and Nanami knows of no star that shines brighter than you.
But behind your youthful exuberance and seemingly carefree attitude is a highly perceptive young lady of the court. With your cheery smiles and laughter that seems to flow so easily and rings through the halls of the castle, it is easy to forget that one day, you will be queen, and that you have been raised your whole life to fulfill your royal duty.
It is easy to remember this fact when you’re sitting atop your throne, staring down at him as he kneels.
“You regret it,” you say, absentmindedly tracing the intricate designs carved onto the handles of your seat. You still haven’t learned how to stop moving your hands every time you’re nervous. It’s your only tell; for as well as you can read Nanami, he can read you even better. Your anxiety only causes him to tighten his jaw, his eyes focused on the lower half of your face because this is all his role allows him to do. He should not dare to look Her Royal Highness in the eyes; not at his lowly level in comparison to you.
You frown at his silence, knowing that he’s doing it to raise the barrier between you two. Four years ago, he hadn’t tried to shut you out so firmly, and every day since then, you have spent all your free time wondering why he wants nothing to do with you.
The it you’re referring to could be many different things. “It” could possibly be him leaving his station as your personal knight in order to become one of the king’s advisors. “It” could also be referring to him returning to be your knight. Or maybe you’re talking about the kiss the two of you shared a fortnight before he decided to stop being your royal guard. The kiss that lingers on his lips, even to this day. He doesn’t even have to think hard enough to remember the wonderful feeling of your soft lips pressed against his own, or that saccharine taste of yours that is yours alone; no fruit, no candy, nothing has ever been able to mimic your sweetness. The kiss that never should have been. The kiss, the kiss, the kiss.
Maybe “it” is none of that, or maybe it’s all of the above. He knows you, and you’re not going to clarify because you believe that Nanami is a mindreader, and for the most part, he is. He knows what gowns you favor, and when you’re sleepy during court meetings, and he knows what order you’re going to eat the food on your plate. He knows where you go when you want to be alone (to the horse stables, to be with your beloved mare), and what your favorite tiara looks like, and that you snort when you laugh (but only ever in the presence of those you are truly comfortable with; only ever in the presence of him).
He does not, however, know about his place in your heart.
You wonder if he’s forcing himself to be unaware of your feelings for him. Sometimes, in the corner of your eyes and in your shadow that he follows, you catch him staring at you longingly, hopefully. With a type of reverence that differs from the one grateful citizens show you. This one feels… intimate. A look meant to be shared only with lovers.
Lovers.
You had toyed with the idea four years ago, when you were eighteen and bright-eyed and much too hopeful for your own good. You craved romance and passion, and whichever suitor you came across, you always found them to be lacking, none of them comparing to Sir Nanami. And you knew, with girlish glee, that it is Nanami that you want. And then came that fateful afternoon in the gardens where you kissed him, and you swore that flowers started blooming on the bushes as a result. The birds were singing, and the sun was shining much brighter than ever, and you felt weightless. As if the inevitability of having to rule a kingdom was no longer a point of stress, and the burdens of your royal duty slipped from your shoulders and melted into the dewy grass beneath you. All that existed, for that brief second of bliss, was you and Nanami.
And then, two weeks later, he resigned and decided to work for your father.
His return had come as a surprise to you. During the years he stopped being your knight, you saw him only once a week, if the fates decided to bless you. For the most part, you’ve grown accustomed to only seeing his broad back or a flash of blond hair passing you by in the corridor. You wonder if he knows that he’s your first kiss — your only kiss. Surely he must. He’s spent a good portion of his life ensuring that your virtue was to never be tainted.
“I do not know what you speak of, My Lady.” He says. He speaks so little to you now that you savor the sound of his deep baritone, the smoothness of how words seem to glide off his tongue. Nanami takes something so mundane as talking and turns it into an art.
“You regret the duel.”
And here lies the grand mistake that Nanami cannot figure out how to fix. He believes that being cold to you will perhaps dissuade anyone from assuming how closely he holds you to his heart (his act of emotional indifference towards you is so convincing, even you sometimes believe it), but he’s only human. He is a slave to his emotions — the utterly irrational ones, the ones that make him act a fool — as all men are.
Nanami hadn’t intended on participating in the tourney. He’s nearing twenty-nine, after all. He’s reached the highest status any knight could possibly aspire to, and he no longer is a squire from a commoner family with something to prove. Tourneys are a thing of the past, a memory from his boyhood.
But there are visitors from all sorts of lands who came down for this royal celebration. A lowly lord from a kingdom ruled by Mahito is precisely the type of scum that does a disservice to all men. Crass, vulgar, and entirely immature, Lord Shigemo has a dastardly reputation for never keeping his disgusting comments or filthy hands to himself. And while it was not his touch that threatened your very virtue, it was the perverted proclamations he kept declaring that had Nanami seeing red.
“She’s a bit old for my liking, but I still bet her maidenhood is ripe enough for the taking. I’d love to see her bleed all over my cock.” Lord Shigemo snickers as he loudly announces this, his beady eyes staring right at you. He’s smart enough to not say your name, lest his head end up on a stake outside your father’s castle, but he’s dumb enough to not heed the warnings he’s been told.
The princess is protected by the bravest of all knights, and the most honorable of all gentlemen.
For that comment alone, Nanami is ready to unsheathe his sword and behead Shigemo, but he knows he cannot. There has been no direct threat to you, and Nanami has just enough restraint to remember that his anger cannot get the best of him. He is not to harm visitors to the kingdom, no matter how deserving of punishment they are, because maintaining peace between the lands is of the utmost importance.
But the way your body stiffens and the almost sickly pallor of your face that occur as a result of Lord Shigemo’s verbal transgression is enough to have Nanami pledge his participation in the dueling tourney. He signs his name in the same competition bracket as Shigemo’s, and you’re pleasantly surprised when Nanami kneels down, asking for your favor and a blessing as he goes to represent your family.
“And what has made you so keen on dueling now, hmm? Why, King Gojo has spent the better half of today trying to goad you into jousting with his knight.” You’re teasing him, eyes sparkling, your gibe gentle and without malicious intent.
You’re not trying to convince Nanami to not partake in the tournament. In fact, you take secret pleasure in watching his swordsmanship, even going out of your way to sneak into the training grounds and watch as he practices moves you’re certain he’s already perfected. For a man with so much muscle mass, he moves swiftly and with a sharp, quick precision that does not befit his firm build.
“It is to defend my lady’s honor.” He curses himself for being so forthright with his intentions. He could have told you that it was to honor your family, and it would not have been a lie, but it wouldn’t have been said with the same strong conviction he speaks with now. It is not the king or any of your cousins that he is fighting for; it is just you, only you.
Removing the brooch from your gown, you attach it to the cloth of his shirt that is soon to be covered by armor. It’s a dark blue gem, matching the color your house favors.
“My most noble of all protectors. You have my favor, then, and all my prayers.” As you always do is the real ending to your sentence, but you fear that if you reveal too much, then Nanami will not be able to focus and give this tourney his all. You wonder if you should reveal the prize for winning, but decide against it at the last minute when he dares to look at you, a glimmer of the same affection from four years ago shining in his dark eyes. It’s a similar look to the one he gave you before your lips met his.
The urge to kiss him again rises, your heart thumping against your chest, but all you allow yourself to do is smile at him.
The tourney itself is a quick event. Usually, it lasts far longer than the hour it takes up, and the gambling a tense, exciting affair. With Nanami entering at the last minute, most gamblers changed their bets to go all in on him winning, and for a good reason. He makes quick work of every opponent unfortunate enough to be paired with him, and the only time Nanami truly takes his sweet time is when he comes face to face with an anxious Lord Shigemo.
Even toying with him doesn’t give Nanami much pleasure. Shigemo is a weak opponent, a poorly trained fighter, and a pitiful excuse of a man. Tired of his time being wasted, Nanami has the man shaking underneath the sharp point of his sword within seconds after deciding he is done playing these games. Even after being declared the winner of the whole tourney, an outcome he isn’t surprised at, he doesn’t feel any satisfaction. Flowers and handkerchiefs are being thrown at him as a show of respect and celebration, but only when he looks up into the crowd, his eyes focusing on your smiling visage, does he feel an ounce of pure happiness.
Before he can climb the steps leading to the showbox that houses all the prominent royal families, one of the tourney competitors stops to congratulate Nanami.
“Lucky bastard.” It’s Naoya Zenin, Crown Prince of the neighboring kingdom. Nanami is glad he was not competing in the same bracket as the prince; not because of a difference in skill, but because wounding a Zenin’s pride was considered treason to them.
“It’s just flowers.” Nanami says. He doesn’t understand what Naoya’s fascination with them are, but perhaps it’s the glory of being a victor that he’s envious of.
“Don’t be a fool.” Naoya scoffs. “We all know the real prize that every damn man was trying to claim.”
Nanami is still confused. Of course, Naoya talks incessantly and most of the time, Nanami does not care what the Zenin heir has to say, but he did notice that there were far more competitors signing up for the tourney than previous years. Is there a monetary reward no one told him about?
“So, how much for you to forfeit?” Naoya asks, completely unaware of Nanami's ignorance.
“Pardon?”
He rolls his eyes, as if Nanami is some type of undomesticated animal, untrained to following commands. Nanami wishes he had been placed in the same bracket as Naoya now, treason charges be damned.
“Never mind, then. I’m sure the princess herself will just make an announcement rescinding the reward.” Naoya smirks at the thought of that, and Nanami struggles to fight the urge to demand the prince stop being so cryptic and to just explain what the hell he’s rambling on about. Rescind what reward?
A familiar head of pink hair pops up by his side, and Nanami immediately recognizes his young student. Eager Yuuji Itadori is smiling widely, happy for his teacher, and for once, Nanami is grateful that young Itadori does not know how to beat around the bush.
“Wow, congratulations, Sir Nanami! I had no idea that you wanted to marry Princess [Name]! Will you still be able to train me as Prince Consort?”
Nanami’s blood runs cold. Oblivious to his mentor’s sudden anguish, Yuuji continues on.
“Her Royal Highness was so kind to open the competition for her hand to any class. Of course, some people dared to criticize her and claim it’s because she’s becoming too old to be a maiden so she had to cast a wide net, but I know plenty of ladies who are unwed in their twenties. Will you still be her knight as her husband, or will that role have to go to someone else? Say, Sir Nanami, are you feeling alright?”
You’re beaming with pride at your beloved knight’s victory, yet nervousness at watching him interact with Prince Naoya started creeping in. You start to relax when the Zenin heir walks off, but your peace of mind shatters when you watch Sir Itadori engage in conversation with Nanami. You watch his facial expression tighten, his body tense up, and you realize that Nanami knows. He knows that he has a right to be betrothed to you, and it dawns on you, from his poor reaction, that this is not the outcome he wanted.
Which leaves the two of you here, alone in your throne room. Your father had found your idea of a tournament for your hand in marriage to be a silly one, but he had indulged you because you promised to be betrothed to someone at the end of it. By standards of the court, you’re much too old at twenty-two to remain unwed.
You’ve been plotting ways to get Nanami to participate, even daring to consider commanding him to do so, but never has being a victim to malicious comments ever been as beneficial as it has today. Nanami signed up for the tourney by his own will! His words ring in your ear, looping incessantly as you watch him fight.
It is to defend my lady’s honor.
He does not know the effect that title has on you, at least when it’s coming from him. My lady. His.
“If the idea of marrying me causes you so much ire, I will call off the betrothal at once and relieve you from your knightly duties, as well.” You do not want to do such a thing, but… You love Nanami. You love him so much that if it is your presence that pains him, you will take your leave now.
“No.”
The word comes from somewhere deep within himself, throaty and raw, like it hurts to say it, but it had to be spoken. The fates demand it.
“No?” You repeat, slowly, almost as if the word is something foreign to your tongue.
“Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to speak out of turn.”
“You do not want to leave me?” You say it softly, but it’s just the two of you in this room. Every word exchanged seems to bounce around the walls, ricocheting, hitting the both of you in the face.
“Princess, it is not a matter of my wants.” Why must you torture him so? While he knows he can never marry you, there was a second of elation that excited his soul at the prospect of being your betrothed. He’s lived a rough life, his calloused palms and hardened heart proof of it. He hasn’t allowed himself to indulge in fantasies for quite some time, but you inspire just enough hope that it stabs him in his heart. Daring to dream of the impossible is a fool’s game.
“Ask me what I want.” You say it firmly. He obliges.
“What is it that you want, my lady?”
“You, Kento.”
No title, no boundaries. You have spoken his name, and that sting in his heart, the harmful side effect of his hope, grows. He dares to look up just a bit more, his eyes staring deep into your own.
All the walls Nanami painstakingly built to separate you two threaten to crumble right before his very eyes. His battlefield tact is of no use here. Had this been any other battle, he would charge forward with his head and sword raised high. Retreat is not an option for a soldier such as himself.
So why does he flirt with the idea of fleeing now?
“I am not deserving.”
“It hurts me when you say that.” And you say it with such a wounded look on your soft features that Nanami knows it must be true.
“I am not even a lord.” He’s fumbling for an excuse, anything to convince you that marrying him would be a mistake. He finds your stubbornness endearing, but he must get you to understand that you will regret marrying him.
“I have no need for a lord.” You retort, almost scoffing at the notion.
“I am seven years your senior.”
“Much better than the suitors decades older than I.”
“You must understand that I am not the gentlest of men. I am not built for care.” The tips of his ears turn red, a giveaway to his shame and embarrassment at the fact.
“I am not fragile.”
Stubborn. You are much too stubborn for your own good.
“I have tainted you.” He chokes out, staring you directly in the eyes. Showing his sins to the broad daylight filtering through the stained glass windows of this room. “I have stolen a kiss meant for your husband.”
“I kissed you! You have tainted nothing, you have robbed no one!” You exclaim, shocked at his misery.
“And now I have stolen your fate.” He continues. “You should not wish to marry a man like me, and you will only come to regret this impulsive decision of your youth if you force this betrothal.”
“Am I forcing you, Sir?” The title seems almost like a mockery, especially after you exchanged it for his given name just minutes prior.
There is nothing Nanami can say that will change your mind, and he realizes this. He realizes the pure selfishness of wanting you to not change your mind, but he is stubborn as well. The tension in this room wraps around the both of you, binding you two together. It’s a battle of wills, now.
Perhaps it always has been.
“You will regret this, my lady.” This is what he says. Inside, he begs of you, please do not regret me.
Satisfied at seemingly having your way, you settle into your throne, leaning back.
“So noble of you to want to save me from what you consider a dastardly fate, but I shall be the judge of that.”
And thus, the engagement period begins.
#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x y/n#one shot#drabble#imagine#jjk x reader#royal au#omg me actually posting two fics in one week? it's the end of the world
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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU
Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys because we deserved a better epic battle between Merlin and Nimueh.
LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 (You're here) , PART 13
More of "The Poisoned Chalice"
Arthur: Do you want to see what you'll be wearing tonight?
Merlin: (thinking) Not those ridiculous ceremonial robes again! (says) My clothes, obviously.
Arthur: (smiling brightly) No, the official ceremonial robes of the servants of Camelot!
Merlin:(fakes excitament) Oh, I can't wait to see them.
Arthur: (pulls out a very nice and elegant robes, nothing to do with the buffon custome he wore in his timeline)
Merlin: (mouth open) You... you can't be serious.
Arthur: (frowns in confusion) You don't like them?
Merlin: Are you kidding? Arthur, they're gorgeous! They look more like noble's clothes than servant's clothes. I... I can't use that.
Arthur: Too bad. You're using them. (throws robes at Merlin, who catches them in reflex) In fact, Keep them. They're now yours.
Merlin: What?! Wait! Arthur-
Arthur: You're welcome (leaves before Merlin can't give him the clothes back)
Merlin: (in shock for a few seconds, but then puts the robes on and smiles) Uhm, they fit perfectly. Just like the other ones. (processing) Wait, how did he know my measures? 😧
Time skip. Just after the revelation the cup was poisoned.
Uther: (furious) Who dare to try to poison my son!
Merlin: (raises his voice) I know who did it!
Arthur: Merlin don't-
Merlin: (points at Nimueh) It was her! I saw her entering the room were the ceremonial goblets were at night!
Nimueh: (surprised pikachu face)
Uther: (suspicious, to Bayard) Doesn't she work for you?
Bayard: (unsure) I don't recall her face.
Merlin: (mumbles a revelation spell to undo the glamour Nimueh put on herself)
Arthur: (subtly stands infront of him, so nobody sees Merlin's eyes turn gold, thinking) Has he always being this careless for gods' sake!
Uther: (livid, shouts) Nimueh! (to guards) Seize her!
Nimueh: (Runs)
Arthur: (tries to go after her)
Uther: (stops him) Don't. She's too dangerous.
Arthur: Do you know her? Who is she?
Uther: Nimueh. She's a very powerful sorcerer. No one you should mess with.
Arthur: (thinking) And yet you messed with her (turns to Merlin) Merlin, we have to-
Merlin: (already gone)
Arthur: Merlin! (thinking) He did not go into danger alone again! He did not just go to confront a powerful sorcerer all by himself. This motherfu- (shouts, between furious and concerned) Merlin! (leaves where the guards went)
Uther: Arthur! (sighs and turns to his knights) Go with him.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the woods.
Nimueh: (stops running to take a breath)
Merlin: (appears) I must say that was a really intelligent plan. Pretending to be some innocent maiden and trying to make me believe Bayard poisoned the goblet. But you won't fool me. (thinking) Not twice.
Nimueh: (laughts dryly) I understimated you. I'll give you that.(straightens up, smirking) Come now. We are too valuable to each other to be enemies.
Merlin: (dryly) I share nothing with you.
Nimueh: Don't you want Arthur to become king?
Merlin: You just tried to poison him!
Nimueh: No, I was trying to poison you. You keep interfiring in my plans when we have the same enemy. I have nothing against Arthur. It's Uther I want to destroy.
Merlin: By killing innocent people? Sorry if I'm not okay with that.
Nimueh: Sacrifices must be made for the greater good.
Merlin: You just seek revenge, not justice. Nothing justifies what you've done. (Steps forward) I'll make Arthur king when the time is right. But you won't see that day. (extends his hand) Astrice! (strikes her with light of energy)
Nimueh: (traps energy in her hand) Your childish tricks are useless against me, Merlin. It's a shame, you could've been a powerful sorcerer, perhaps, if you had the time, the training and the experience, but you are no more than a newly hatched chick that hasn't learned how to fly. I, on the other hand, have been practicing magic for decades. I'm a Priestess of the Old Religion. I am an opponent you could face but not defeat Forbearne! Akwele! (Throws fireball at him)
Merlin: (stops fireball midair without moving a finger)
Nimueh: (utterly confused) ... What? 😨
Merlin: You're right. Immature talent can't overcome decades of experience. But an experienced talent can. Akwele! (Throws fireball back with more force and bigger)
Nimueh: Scildan! (makes a invisible shield so the fire doesn't touch her) Forbairn ypile! (Makes a circle of fire around Merlin)
Merlin: Cume þoden! (Makes a whirlwind that blows the fire and then strikes Nimueh against a tree) Fire is not the only element you can work with, you know?
Nimueh: (smiles) Oh, I know. Gewican ge eorðe (makes a hole in the ground and Merlin falls there while he screams. Then she stands up and starts walking to the hole, limping a little, and says to herself, rubing her back) Oh, that hurt.
Merlin: (emerges floating in a piece of earth and stone, eyes golder than ever) This is going to hurt more. Eorðe, stanas, hiersumaþ me. Akwele! (Jumps from the rock and it goes to strike Nimueh)
Nimueh: Stanas tobrytan! (manages to break the rock into pieces but she's still hit by them and is severely injured)
Merlin: (stands over her with a somber expression)
Nimueh: (recoiling in fear, weakely) How...? How can this be? You shouldn't be this powerful! You manipulate magic as if you've been practicing it for a life time!
Merlin: (coldly) You don't have to know. (Starts to create a fireball in his hand, about to make the final blow)
Lancelot: (appearing in the distance, meters behind Merlin) Hey! What's happening?
Merlin: (the flame dies as well as the gold in his eyes and he turns around, wide eyed, whispering overcome with emotion) Lancelot?
Nimueh: (takes advantage Merlin is distracted and pulls out a dagger hidden in her leg)
Lancelot: Look out! (Runs to them)
Merlin: (moves away just in time so the dagger cuts his neck superficially)
Knight 1: (far away, but getting closer) I think I heard something!
Knight 2: (far away, but getting closer) This way!
Nimueh: (runs away as fast as she can with all her body hurting)
Lancelot: (goes to Merlin) Did she hurt you?
Merlin: I... (falls)
Lancelot: (catches him before he hits the ground) By the gods! She did! (Checks him, full panic mode)
Merlin: (thinking in Lancelot's arms, only able to move his eyes) No, she did not. The wound is barely a scratch but she put a paralyzing poison on the blade, the sneaky bitch. 😑
Lancelot: (sees Merlin's neck is bleeding, worried) There's so much blood.
Merlin: (Thinking) No, there isn't. ��� Honestly, Lancelot, have you seen a serious wound before? (Analysing his symptoms) Hum... It's not a letal one, the effects should go in an hour or so.
Lancelot: (checks his vital signs and sighs in releaf) He's still alive.(shaking Merlin) Hey! Can you hear me?!
Merlin: (Thinking) Yes I can! I just can't talk or move, damn it! 😠 I did miss you though 🥺. Why did we have to meet again like this? 😖
Arthur: (arrives with his knights) Merlin! (raises his sword, furious) Stay away from him!
Lancelot: (puts Merlin on the ground gently and steps back, hands up) I was just helping him! The girl. She did something to him. He's seriously hurt! He needs help!
Merlin: (thinking) No I'm not! I'm just... ugh, never mind 😒.
Arthur: (finally sees Lancelot's face and his features harden due to the resentment he feels towards the man he once considered a friend but then betrayed him by getting involved with his soon to be wife in his other timeline) Arrest him.
...
Before you ask why doesn't Arthur know Gwen was echanted and Lancelot was a shade that time if he's from the future, well the only one who could've told him that was Merlin and he was a tree so... And I don't recall Merlin ever mentioning any of this to Gaius. But even if he did, I think Gaius just focused on telling Arthur everything Merlin did for him with his magic, and the man is old, he could easily have forgotten to tell him a couple of things.
#merlin bbc#bbc merlin#merthur#merlin#merlin fanfic#merlin fic#merlin prompt#merthur fic#arthur and merlin#merlin and arthur#merthur prompt#Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU
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Of Gods and Men (exodus)
Introduction
This is Dune/GOT/HOTD/FAB/ASOIAF crossover AU that you've voted for. If you always wanted to see House Targaryen in space, I got you. Please note how some of the lore of both universes is bent to blend in both worlds. This is my original idea that I've been cooking for at least two years. Be gentle with my work, and enjoy the ride.
- Summary: House Targaryen survives their ancient exile after being overthrown by House Corrino and the Bene Gesserit. Fleeing to the unknown planet Albiron, the Targaryens build a hidden civilization powered by drakaon crystals, reviving their dragons and creating advanced technology. Millennia later, whispers of their survival begin to surface as the Bene Gesserit confront a mysterious Red Woman on Arrakis, who warns of a coming Prince That Was Promised destined to challenge their control. The Targaryens secretly prepare to return, ready to reclaim their legacy.
- Pairing: reader!Daenys Targaryen/Leto Atredies
- Rating: Mature 16+
- Note: For more details about House Targaryen and their technology, please check out the masterlist.
- Next part: contact
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround
Millennia before the reign of the Padishah Emperors, before the Guild navigators learned to bend space, and long before the Bene Gesserit began their breeding program, there was another power, a House whose name was whispered with awe and fear across the stars—House Targaryen of Valyria.
In those ancient days, Valyria was a shining jewel of the universe, a world of towering spires and grand pyramids, whose mighty fleets ruled not one world but twelve. From the skies of Laansarad to the distant colonies of Qohar and Sarnor, their banner—a red three-headed dragon on a field of black—was a symbol of dominion, and their words, "Fire and Blood," were a promise. Their secret to power was not only their advanced technology or their skill in combat, but something far older, something the Imperium would come to call "unnatural." For the Targaryens were bonded to creatures of legend—dragons—whose very existence defied the laws of nature and technology.
But their power, their fire, had not gone unnoticed.
Once they emerged, the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood, ever-seeking control of bloodlines to further their goals, had long coveted House Targaryen's strength. Yet they could not penetrate the Targaryen bloodline, for the House was immune to the Sisterhood's manipulations. Rumors abounded that the dragons themselves had gifted their riders with an ancient magic that made them resistant to the spice and to the Bene Gesserit’s arts. The Targaryens did not bow, did not mingle their blood with the lesser Houses of the Imperium, and did not submit to the Sisterhood’s schemes. This isolation, this defiance, would be their undoing.
It began as whispers in the shadows of the imperial court of House Corrino, whispers that spoke of Valyria’s growing influence and its potential threat to the Emperor's rule. Fearing the power of House Targaryen and the dragons they commanded, House Corrino, in secret alliance with the Bene Gesserit and several other noble houses, set in motion a betrayal that would forever change the galaxy.
Without warning, the skies of Valyria turned dark as Corrino's fleets descended upon the planet like locusts. Great dreadnoughts unleashed their fury, raining nuclear fire upon the unsuspecting cities. The Targaryens, though powerful, were not prepared for such treachery. The star cities of Valyria, with their grand pyramids and towering spires, were reduced to ash in a matter of hours. Their colonies—once strongholds of the Targaryen vassal Houses—were similarly annihilated in the firestorm.
The Bene Gesserit, cold and calculating, had played their part well. They ensured that no Targaryen blood would escape their reach, confident that the ancient dragonlords were now a cautionary tale, a reminder that even the greatest Houses could fall.
But they were wrong.
In the chaos, a single fleet—a fraction of the once-mighty armada—managed to escape the inferno. Led by Aenar Targaryen, a visionary dragonlord, and his most loyal vassals, the remnants of House Targaryen fled into the void. Their dragons, too, escaped, fleeing with their riders into the unknown. With the enemy forces closing in, Aenar made the hardest decision of his life. He ordered the abandonment of the civilian starships—hundreds of them—that could not jump through space at the speed needed to escape. Tens of thousands of men, women, and children—innocent lives—were sacrificed to buy time for the chosen few. As the slow ships limped away at sub-light speed, doomed to be caught by their pursuers, the core fleet vanished in the blink of an eye, jumping to coordinates no one in the known galaxy had ever seen.
In their flight, they left behind only death and ruin, convincing the Imperium that House Targaryen was no more. The Bene Gesserit believed the bloodline had been wiped out. House Corrino celebrated their victory, confident that their throne was secure.
But the Targaryens were not dead.
As the surviving ships jumped further and further into uncharted space, their surviving dragons roared in defiance. Aenar Targaryen vowed that his House would rise again. The fire that had consumed Valyria would be reborn, and one day, the red three-headed dragon would fly again over the stars.
Their enemies had only bought themselves time.
In the vast, unknown reaches of space, the last of House Targaryen sought a new home, far from the grasp of the Empire, far from the Bene Gesserit’s eyes. In their hearts burned a single truth: fire and blood. It was all they had left.
And it was all they would need.
Far beyond the reach of the known universe, in the vast and uncharted depths of space, the last of House Targaryen drifted. For weeks, their ships had traveled through the void, their destination unknown, their hopes tethered only to the coordinates embedded in their ancient star charts. Aenar Targaryen, now the sole leader of his House, stood at the helm of his flagship, his mind consumed by thoughts of what was lost and what might yet be found.
Then, the scanners caught sight of something—a planet unlike any they had ever seen. Its atmosphere glowed a rich, deep red, the color of blood under an alien sun. Its oceans shimmered like rubies, and its vast jungles, though strange and wild, thrummed with life. The planet seemed to call to them, a beacon of hope in the darkest night.
"This is it," Aenar said, his voice carrying the weight of a prophecy. "We shall call it Albiron."
As the Targaryen ships descended upon the planet's surface, they found a world brimming with untapped potential. The air was thick but breathable, rich with minerals that nourished the vast jungles below. Towering mountains stretched into the sky, their peaks capped with dormant volcanoes. Aenar made his home there, at the highest point, building a grand pyramid into the volcanic chain that would serve as both fortress and palace. Around it, more pyramids soon rose, connected by a complex nexus of pathways above the dark amber forests. Below, cities began to form, hidden by the jungle canopy, shielded from prying eyes.
Albiron was a world of secrecy, and House Targaryen would see to it that their new home remained unknown to the Imperium and its allies.
As they delved deeper into the planet's surface, they made a discovery that would change the course of their history. In the heart of a vast canyon, buried beneath layers of rock and time, they uncovered a crystal unlike any they had seen before. The crystals, translucent with a faint golden hue, pulsed with an energy that seemed almost alive. Aenar named them drakaon, in honor of the dragons that once ruled Valyria, and the power they held was nothing short of revolutionary.
The drakaon crystals, as they soon learned, could be harnessed as a new energy source. They could be used to fuel their ships, making long-distance space travel possible without the reliance on melange—the spice that had kept the Imperium in control of the stars. For the first time in millennia, the Targaryens were free from the constraints of the galaxy’s economy, free from the Guild's stranglehold on space travel. Their technology advanced rapidly, fueled by the power of the drakaon crystals, and soon, the Targaryens had fleets capable of crossing the stars without detection, fleets that no longer needed to bow to the powers of the known universe.
In secret, they thrived. The cities of Albiron grew more complex and advanced, their pyramids rising higher, their pathways extending further across the planet’s vast jungles. Their ships patrolled the unknown regions, mapping uncharted stars and ensuring that no one would find their new home.
But the greatest secret of all lay within the depths of their new world.
Within hidden caverns, deep beneath the volcanoes of Albiron, Aenar and his descendants built vast hatcheries. Here, using knowledge salvaged from the lost archives of Valyria, they revived their ancient bond with dragons. Clutch by clutch, new dragons were born, their eggs glowing with the same fiery life that had once illuminated the skies of Valyria. The first to hatch was a magnificent beast, its scales a deep, molten red, its eyes like twin suns. They named it Vexarion, a harbinger of the new Targaryen age.
As the hatcheries grew, so too did the dragons, each one bonded to a rider, as had been the tradition for millennia. Once more, the Targaryens flew on dragonback, their fire-breathing companions reclaiming the skies of Albiron. They were stronger, fiercer than ever, their lifespans prolonged by the spice, their health enhanced by the crystals, just as their ancestors had once done. The galaxy believed the last dragons had died millennia ago, but here, on this blood-red planet, they lived—and they thrived.
Under Aenar’s leadership, House Targaryen rebuilt its strength. They did not forget their defeat, nor did they forgive it. But they had learned patience. For now, they would remain hidden, waiting, watching, biding their time in the shadows of the Imperium. They would rise again, but not yet. For now, their future lay in the skies above Albiron, in the bond between dragon and rider, in the power of the drakaon crystals that flowed beneath their feet.
Thousands of years had passed since the fall of Valyria, and the known galaxy had all but forgotten the name Targaryen. House Corrino ruled unchallenged, the Bene Gesserit continued their manipulations, and the spice flowed as the lifeblood of the Imperium. The Targaryens, once feared and powerful, were now little more than a cautionary tale—a story told to remind the galaxy of the dangers of defying the throne.
But in the far reaches of space, beyond the gaze of the Emperor, beyond the Sisterhood’s influence, whispers had begun to circulate. Minor Houses in the fringe systems spoke in hushed tones of strange transactions, of peculiar spice shipments that defied the standard flow of commerce. Most notably, a small, unassuming House known as House Vex had begun to quietly sell a specific brand of spice to select, discreet buyers.
The spice itself was nothing extraordinary at first glance—reddish-brown in color, with the same faint glow that all melange possessed. Yet, when examined closely, it held properties that puzzled even the most skilled refiners. It resisted traditional refinement processes, requiring a unique method of rensfuration to unlock its full potency. And it was always purchased by the same anonymous entity, whose representatives never gave names, never left a trace.
Rumors swirled throughout the Imperium. Some said the spice had properties that could extend life far beyond what even melange could achieve. Others whispered that it had been tailored for use in genetic experimentation, perhaps even to create a superhuman race immune to the Bene Gesserit's influence. The most outlandish rumors claimed it was being used to resurrect a forgotten House, one whose bloodline had been immune to the Sisterhood’s powers millennia ago.
At first, the whispers were dismissed. Minor Houses always had their secrets, after all, and House Vex was hardly influential enough to warrant concern. But as more and more shipments of this peculiar spice quietly disappeared into the unknown universe, suspicions began to grow. The Spacing Guild noticed the irregularities in the spice routes, and the Bene Gesserit began to pay attention. Still, no one dared speak openly of it—House Corrino had no interest in encouraging the notion of a long-lost enemy returning from the shadows.
In truth, the rumors were closer to the truth than anyone realized.
Deep within the jungles of Albiron, the Targaryens had mastered the art of spice refinement—not for their own use, but for their dragons. The spice, in its raw form, had always been a valuable tool to extend human life and grant certain enhancements, but the Targaryens had discovered a very specific strain, a rare and potent variant that, when carefully refined, could do far more. It extended not just the lifespan of their dragons but enhanced their vitality, their strength, their fire. The dragons of Albiron, already magnificent creatures of fire and fury, became more resilient, more powerful than they had ever been in Valyria.
This strain of spice could only be harvested under particular conditions, and it required an even more delicate process of rensfuration, one that took years to perfect. The Targaryens had kept this secret for generations, using it only sparingly to ensure their dragons thrived in exile. And to maintain their anonymity, they allowed House Vex—a small House bound to them in loyalty for centuries—to sell a portion of the raw spice to the wider galaxy, hiding the true purpose of the refined strain.
The transactions were always discreet, the buyers carefully selected to ensure that no one could trace the spice back to Albiron. Yet despite all their precautions, the galaxy had begun to take notice. The mystery surrounding the spice—and the shadowy figures who bought it—grew with each passing year.
The Bene Gesserit, ever watchful, sensed a disturbance in the patterns of the Imperium. Though they could not put their finger on it, the Sisterhood had learned to listen for the subtle currents of power that ran through the universe, and something was shifting. The idea that a House immune to their influence could have survived all these years in secret sent a ripple of unease through their ranks. They began to dig deeper, their agents searching for any clue that might lead them to the source of the rumors.
House Corrino, too, grew wary. The spice trade was the lifeblood of the Empire, and any irregularity in its flow could have disastrous consequences. The Emperor’s spies were dispatched to the farthest corners of the galaxy, though none returned with answers.
Still, the rumors persisted. The spice that had no clear origin. The mysterious buyers from beyond known space. The possibility that a forgotten House might yet live.
In the halls of the Imperium, no one spoke openly of House Targaryen. To do so would invite questions that no one wanted to answer. But in the dark corridors of power, in the quiet whispers between those who dealt in secrets, the name began to surface again.
Targaryen.
Fire and blood.
The galaxy had forgotten them, but House Targaryen had never forgotten the galaxy. And as their dragons grew stronger, as their power in exile continued to build, they waited.
For one day, the whispers would no longer be rumors.
And when that day came, the stars themselves would tremble.
The scorching winds of Arrakis blew fiercely through the narrow streets of Arrakeen, carrying with them the dry scent of spice and the whispers of rebellion. The city, usually shrouded in an oppressive silence broken only by the occasional hum of machinery, now thrummed with tension. A crowd had gathered in the heart of the city, their faces hidden beneath hoods and veils to protect against the harsh sun, their voices rising in fervor as they listened to the woman who stood before them, bathed in the blood-red light of the setting sun.
She was known only as the Red Woman, a stranger from a distant corner of the galaxy, draped in flowing crimson robes that shimmered in the heat. Her eyes burned with an unnatural fire, and her voice, rich and commanding, seemed to cut through the dry air like a blade.
“Brothers, sisters,” she called out, her voice echoing through the square. “You have been deceived! For too long, the Bene Gesserit have whispered their lies into the ears of your leaders, guiding the hand of the Empire toward a future of darkness and death. But the Lord of Light has seen their evil, and He has sent me to show you the truth.”
The crowd murmured in agreement, their eyes locked on the Red Woman as she raised her hands, flames seemingly dancing at her fingertips.
“The night is dark and full of terrors,” she intoned, her voice growing louder. “But there is a light coming, a flame that will burn away the lies of the Bene Gesserit. The false messiah they prepare will lead to the deaths of billions! But the Prince That Was Promised, the true savior, will rise and deliver us from their evil.”
The crowd erupted into shouts of agreement, their fists raised toward the sky as the Red Woman’s message of salvation stirred their hearts. But not everyone in Arrakeen was so moved by her words.
From the shadows of a nearby alley, a figure emerged, flanked by a dozen Bene Gesserit acolytes. The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, her face etched with the lines of age and power, strode forward with the grace of a predator. Her sharp blue eyes took in the scene before her, the riotous crowd, the Red Woman at their center, and the burning passion in their eyes. She had seen such passion before, in other corners of the universe, and she knew well the danger it posed.
The Red Woman turned her gaze toward the Bene Gesserit as they approached, her lips curling into a cold smile. “Ah, the serpents come to silence me,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “Do you fear the truth, Mother?”
Mother Mohiam’s expression remained unchanged as she stepped forward, her voice as cold as the sands of Arrakis at night. “You have no place here, woman. You are not of Arrakis, and you bring only chaos to these people. Leave this world, now, or you will face the consequences.”
The Red Woman laughed, the sound high and sharp, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. “I serve only the Lord of Light, not your false Empire or your twisted Sisterhood. You, who claim to see the future, who shape the paths of men to serve your own ends, are the true servants of darkness. You pave the way for a false messiah who will bring nothing but death and destruction to the universe.”
The Bene Gesserit acolytes shifted uneasily behind Mother Mohiam, but she stood firm, her eyes locked on the Red Woman. “You speak of a prophecy you do not understand,” she said. “The future is not for the untrained mind to glimpse. You meddle with forces beyond your comprehension.”
“The future is clear to those who serve the Light,” the Red Woman retorted. “Your Kwisatz Haderach, your so-called savior, will be the harbinger of death. He will lead the universe into a war that will consume entire worlds, killing billions. But the Prince That Was Promised will come, and he will burn away the lies you have sown.”
The crowd began to stir again, their fear and anger rising as the Red Woman’s words took hold. Mother Mohiam could feel the pulse of the mob, the heat of their desperation, and knew that if she did not act soon, this riot would spread like wildfire through the streets of Arrakeen.
“You play with fire,” Mother Mohiam said softly, stepping closer to the Red Woman. “And fire will consume you.”
The Red Woman smiled, her eyes gleaming. “The night is dark and full of terrors, Mother. You would do well to remember that.”
With that, the Red Woman raised her hands, and for a brief moment, flames flared at her fingertips once more before she stepped back into the shadows. Her followers, emboldened by her defiance, began to chant, their voices growing louder as they echoed her words.
“The night is dark and full of terrors. The Prince That Was Promised will come.”
Mother Mohiam watched as the Red Woman disappeared into the crowd, her eyes narrowing in thought. She had faced zealots before, had seen the power of faith wielded as a weapon. But this… this was something different. The Red Woman’s words echoed in her mind, unsettling her in a way few things ever had.
As the crowd began to disperse, the tension lingering in the air like the scent of spice after a storm, Mother Mohiam turned to her acolytes.
“Find her,” she said quietly. “Find her and bring her to me. We must know who she truly serves.”
For a moment, she stood in the empty square, the wind stirring the dust around her feet. She looked up at the burning sky, the twin suns casting long shadows across the desert, and a chill ran down her spine despite the heat.
The night is dark and full of terrors, indeed.
And Mother Mohiam knew that the terrors were only beginning.
- A/N: Let's see how well this does before I post another part.
#dune x got crossover#dune x hotd crossover#dune x y/n#dune x you#dune x reader#dune x fire and blood crossover#game of thrones#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#asoiaf x reader#asoiaf#asoif/got#a song of ice and fire#house targaryen#house atreides#leto atreides#leto x reader#leto x y/n#dune
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Binary Star
Part I
Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.
Words: 1.2k
Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?
____________
He is really going to get her this time. This is the finish line, quite literally: the graduation; his last attempt to win and emerge victorious from the very last battle between him and her. It has to be it.
If he couldn't win against her for the last time, Gojo would probably have a mental breakdown right in the middle of the ceremony. Geto standing right next to him rolls his eyes to the ceiling over his friend who's shaking from excitement and fear. Of course, Satoru wouldn't admit it even under torture, but Suguru knows better. The girl his friend has been competing with throughout high school isn't just smart: she's completely insane like Gojo and as big pain in the ass as him. Who knows, perhaps she'll really win this round. He prefers not to think of it.
Satoru searches for her in the crowd, standing on his toes despite already being a foot taller than anyone else in the hall. Is she here? This nightmarish woman who has been pushing him to give high school his all because she dared to take away his crown of the best student during their freshman year? When Satoru saw the scores, he thought he might have had a heart attack. There was no way he was no longer #1.
"That's what you get for messing around the chem lab," Shoko snorted while Satoru dumbly stared at the name of that annoying girl, always the teachers' pet, heading the list. His name was written right under hers.
What the actual fuck?! She got a better score than him? Him, the genius, with his undeniably superior IQ of 180 that he flaunted at any given time? Who did she think she was, Sheldon Cooper or something?
It got him so fired up he actually started studying.
"You're so dumb," Geto eventually said after his friend had gotten in the argument with the girl during their ethics class - again. "You know you could be making out with her now, right? She's the only person who could actually get along with your stubborn ass."
"Wha-a-at? What about you?" Immediately disregarding his question, Satoru was already pouting like a kid. "Wouldn't you date me?"
"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."
To be fair, it's not that Gojo never thought of her that way - she was pretty, even if he was never going to admit it out loud - but she was also so insufferable Gojo really couldn't focus on anything else but beating her in that game they were playing. The best score on the history exam? They both wanted it. Math test? Him and her were working on those questions as if their lives depended on it. Biology project? Satoru made sure to do the impossible, submitting something he would get a Noble prize for, and yet he still somehow managed to get the same grade as her. It was absolutely infuriating.
Why on Earth did she decide she could be better than him? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. The one and only son of Gojo family, who was not only embarrassingly rich but also fucking smart - his parents used to flaunt his talents throughout his whole childhood and continued doing it well into adulthood. He couldn't tell them he was no longer #1. What would his mother say? Dear God, it was hard to imagine what would happen to his father of he learned some random girl got a better grade for that English paper than him. It was, at the very least, unbecoming of Satoru.
But she was unrelenting, irritated with his status of the school genius, and ready to fight him on every occasion. Satoru had no idea what could piss her off so much - in the end, he was the most charming guy around, wasn't he? - but there wasn't a day she'd let him have his way. She was brave, persistent, and knowledgeable, and he hated her very much.
The fact that Shoko and Suguru were asking him to please get together with her and stop antagonizing the whole school only riled up Gojo even more. As if he was going to date that nerd!
When he learned she'd be running for the valedictorian, it was the last drop. No fucking way. She couldn't take it away from him - even if he had never actually cared about being a valedictorian.
If his friends had thought he was obessessing over her, now they realized Satoru went completely nuts. He started studying so much he barely slept: it was a given, considering the bags under his eyes were making his skinny ass look like a starving raccoon. Geto couldn't drag gim out even in between lessons because Satoru was immediately burying his head in the books.
It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?
Pfft, of course she won't. She'll probably stab him in the parking lot once he tries to get into his car.
But when the headmaster finally announces the results, and his, Satoru Gojo's, name is called, he no longer sees her in the crowd, and the sweet taste of victory suddenly turns to ashes in his mouth.
Where is she? She couldn't have known it would be him. To be frank, he didn't either. How could she leave right before the results were announced?
He gives his speech with a stupid smile plastered all over his face, but his mood has already soured. She had to be there to hear he was named this year's valedictorian! What face did she make? Did she leave right after she heard it wasn't her? Did she cry? Did she run away because she couldn't take it? Wasn't she going to say to him anything at all?
How could she just... vanish?
He doesn't know why he expected her to be the bigger person and come tell him he did great, but he truly did. Suddenly, he realizes he wants her to look him in the face and say he is good enough.
Did he need to be the bigger person, perhaps? But, wait, isn't he a bigger person by default because he's the winner, he wondered. The winner is always the bigger person if he doesn't rub loser's face in the dirt, right?
In the end, he couldn't even enjoy the victory he had been craving for so long.
"She had something urgent come up," Shoko says later in the restaurant, making a tsk-ing sound while Gojo listens to her with a frown on his face. "Something about her family."
Something about her family? What could be as important as the announcement of valedictorian?
"Are you dumb?" With a sigh, Suguru cocks his head to the side. "Plenty of things are more important than this valedictorian crap."
Maybe to somebody else, but not to her, Satoru thinks. Beating him has always been the only thing on her mind, and nothing could have changed that.
__________
He will be mulling over it for a long, long time once he realizes she did not follow him to Harvard despite her scholarship.
Part II
Tags: @minshookie29
#yandere#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk satoru
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Supercharged | JJK
Chapter 3: Figure it Out
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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: You become Jungkook’s problem.
🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 3k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, tension, an argument, accidentally triggering someone else
a/n: this week, they actually get to talk!! hooray! except, well... they might not be so keen to celebrate this development... enjoy the drama👀
“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”
Jungkook’s stare was level, voice monotone. You gulped, finding it difficult to meet his eyes.
Exhaling, you cast your gaze across the rest of the training space, though you knew it to be empty. You were tucked down the end, where Jungkook had been practising before, and now stood opposite you.
“I- I don’t-” you stammered, “what do you mean?”
Jungkook poorly concealed the roll of his eyes.
“Namjoon taught you how to do this yesterday-“
“-I wouldn’t say taught, exactly-“
“-so let’s see it.”
Was Jungkook not supposed to be helping you? Namjoon had said his powers were closest to yours. Clearly his eagerness for you to learn from Jungkook had blinded him to the very clear hatred Jungkook harboured for you.
But if this was how he wanted to play it, you would go along. Prove to him that you didn’t need his help to improve.
Gritting your teeth, you lifted your palms as Namjoon had shown you earlier. What else had he told you? To summon the right feeling.
This time, instead of being afraid of the pain your powers had brought at first, you searched for the sensation in your chest. Briefly, your eyes flickered to the side. Jungkook was watching you impatiently, eyebrows raised.
He didn’t think you could do it.
Swallowing, you pulled your eyes away from him and towards the metal target he had fixed on the wall, the one you had seen him training with earlier.
Like opening a trapdoor in your chest, a blaze of heat suddenly escaped. You panted as it flowed from your palms, watching with pride as your bright blue current zapped across the surface of the metal, just as his gold had done earlier.
After a moment, you felt your energy waning and fumbled to close off the power again. Though it took you a great deal of concentration, it came easier than it had done the first time. Glowing with your achievement, you turned, head high, to face Jungkook. Maybe you had been too hard on yourself earlier, as Jimin had said. You would soon get better.
But instead of any indication he was impressed, Jungkook simply folded his arms, expression unchanging.
“You need to be quicker,” he said.
Not entirely concealing the disappointment that lanced through you at his dismissal, you waited for him to elaborate.
But he merely stared.
It became clear he had no intention of continuing. Hands tightening to fists at your sides, you scoffed in irritation.
“And are you going to tell me how to do that?”
“I’m sure you can figure it out,” he said darkly. He turned and stalked away to the bench by the wall, leaving you no chance to argue.
Before he turned around, you wrenched your eyes away, and back to the target. Fine. He didn’t want to teach you. He was only here because Namjoon had made him, but he was taking it as a chance to try and see you fail.
But you were determined he wasn’t going to be the only star student around here.
Your arms lifted, and this time it was much easier for you to summon the electricity. Perhaps, like physical exercise, this was a matter of getting warmed up.
A sharp blast of blue rattled the metal against the wall. A smirk slid across your face.
You shut it off and tried again.
At the side of the room, Jungkook watched without reaction as blue repeatedly fired across the space, the same vivid lightning reflected as a glow in your eyes. You smiled as you watched that deathly light, and he knew he was right about you. He saw that same cold joy at using powers that could take a life – the exact same as the man who had given them to you.
By the end of your training time, your confidence had been restocked. Jungkook hadn’t offered you any more assessments of your weaknesses, but you were certain you had become quicker at both activating and stopping your powers than you could have imagined after your first try the previous morning.
Another clash sounded through the room as you hit the target again. As it faded, leaving just the sound of your panting breaths to fill the space, a voice spoke.
“Very impressive.”
Lowering your arm and whirling around, you found Namjoon leaning against the opposite wall. He strode towards you, though you noticed his eyes travelling to Jungkook who was still skulking by the wall.
“Loads better already,” Namjoon offered you a smile on his way past, “nice work, both of you.”
As his leader approached him, Jungkook got to his feet, enduring the congratulations of Namjoon who threw an arm around him.
“Yep,” Jungkook ground out, eyes fixed on you, “she’s certainly determined.”
His blood boiled even further seeing your mouth quirk up at that.
“Get some rest. You’re done for the day,” Namjoon told you. Nodding, you headed away, not waiting for Jungkook. It was just as well, because Namjoon held him back.
“I’m proud of you,” he told the younger sincerely, “I knew you would be able to welcome her in eventually. And it looks like you helped her a lot. It may not be easy for you, but you set aside your differences and that’s great.”
Namjoon’s encouraging smile was the first thing to strike guilt into him about how he had been treating you. His leader was so pleased, but it was all a lie. He hadn’t really done anything to make him proud.
Nodding with an attempt at a smile, he excused himself for the gym. Whenever he couldn’t make sense of his thoughts, they could usually be straightened out by a workout, so he headed straight there and began with some pull-ups.
He trusted Namjoon. Namjoon wanted to welcome you. But still, he couldn’t seem to support the decision.
Again, his mind replayed the mental images of you, standing with your shoulders set and arms raised, repeatedly firing deadly electricity through the air. The flashes of blue were enough to dissipate his guilt almost instantly.
His biceps and shoulders began to protest, but he pushed through. If he could just make a few more…
The problem was, he could see that fatal determination in you. His comments hadn’t prevented you from pushing your powers harder. Did you even understand how dangerous they were? Anyone could end up with powers like that, and not all were equipped to deal with them. Not everyone would use them for the best.
It was clear to him that you wanted nothing more than to master them as quickly as possible. And then, who knew what you could do? To him. To his team.
He dropped back to the ground, panting heavily.
Rubbing his burning palms together, he watched as gold static crackled around them. He clenched them into fists, turning away.
You stared hazily at the four blank walls of the room. It was entirely dark, your eyes only picking out slight details. Not that there were many to behold; you remained in the bare room from your first night, clearly not fully trusted with your powers yet.
Though you felt you had proved yourself a little when you trained with Jungkook earlier, you had to agree it was for the best. You didn’t want to admit quite how drained you felt after the adrenaline from your training had faded.
At first, you had crashed on the sofa, chatting with Hope and Jimin again. They were encouraging as always, understanding of the tiredness that seeped into your bones.
“Don’t push yourself,” Jimin had warned again. “You only just got your powers after all. You’re still adjusting.”
But fairly soon, talk of powers and training had been dropped. They put the tv on, and besides the news article which flashed up at first (‘Bolt describes his defeat of Monster Necrus X’), it was the first time the craziness of this new world you had crash landed into was gone from your mind. You didn’t care what they put on, paying minimal attention to the show and instead basking in the downtime with your new friends.
But when Hope looked up warily, you didn’t even need to guess who was standing behind you.
Jungkook’s venomous glare only met you for a second as he walked past, instead settling on ignoring you completely as he headed to the kitchen. The same loose t shirt hung from his frame, but since you came upstairs it had been drenched with sweat, clinging to his back as he headed to the kitchen.
Looked like he did train as hard as the others had told you.
Heaving yourself to a sitting position with some difficulty, you groaned. You hadn’t been working out, in the traditional sense at least, but your muscles had seized up.
You kept your gaze on Jungkook, who was filling a bottle and tilting his head back to gulp down some water. When he met your eyes again, his darkened, jaw popping in irritation.
With a sigh, you turned back to the others who were eyeing you apprehensively.
“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you sighed.
“You don’t have to-” Jimin tried, but you shook your head.
“It’s okay. I’m about to pass out anyway. Have a good night.”
You weren’t sure what time it was then, but it must have been early because on waking you found yourself wide awake while it was still dark, the house quiet. Despite the subtle ache in your body from the strenuous first day, and the heaviness of your head, you were firmly awake.
Pushing the covers off, you sat with a huff.
At least this feeling, this inability to sleep, wasn’t something isolated from the regular world you used to know. Even people who had never seen lightning shooting from their own hands had trouble sleeping sometimes. A normal problem, that you could deal with.
And so it was almost relieving when you padded into the deserted kitchen. For the moment, you didn’t have to cling to anyone, least of all someone who seemed to despise you, to guide you through.
In the kitchen, you flicked on the lights beneath the cupboards, the minimum level to light the space without assaulting your weary eyes.
Through your tiredness you breathed in the still air as you sat back, having set the kettle to boil. You watched the water inside growing restless as it heated up, tracking the bubbles as something to do.
It was only when the light flicked off, signalling that the steaming water was ready, that you took your eyes off it. And then you nearly fell out of your chair.
As you had turned to stand and retrieve the kettle, you found the seat beside you filled.
Biting back a curse, you simply panted, hand over your chest as you recovered from your shock. Big eyes blinked back at you.
While you steadied yourself against the counter, you took in the person’s face. You hadn’t been introduced yet, but remembered seeing him the first night you had arrived, holding onto Jimin’s hand.
He hadn’t said anything yet, so you shifted slightly and decided to break the silence.
“Sorry… I didn’t notice you come in. Do you have powers like Yoongi’s?”
The only move he made was to close his lips.
Okay, that hadn’t worked. Glancing over at the kettle, steam still emitting from the spout, you tried again.
“I’m making tea. Do you want any?”
Slowly, a smile turned his lips up at the corners. What could be considered a nod moved his head, and a knot of relief unwound in you as you scampered around the counter to fetch mugs. Eventually, the calming scent of tea wafted in steam from each cup as you slid one tentatively in front of your companion.
Clasping your hands around the warming ceramic, you spoke softly as you waited for it to cool enough to drink.
“I’m Y/N. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
His eyes raised from his tea and you mustered a small smile. You hadn’t expected him to reply at all, so when his smile returned and he spoke, you were astonished.
“V,” was all he said, a deep voice that didn’t disturb the quiet.
Your own smile grew. Sliding back into a seat, you took that as a win and kept talking.
“I couldn’t sleep,” you chuckled, “I figured no one would be up, not that it matters. I almost feel like I’m back at home. Midnight tea breaks are still a thing when you become a superhero, it seems.”
Laughing at yourself, you took a sip of your tea at last. But lowering you mug, you noticed a frown creasing V’s brow.
“Hero…” he muttered.
“I was just joking,” you laughed nervously, “I barely know how to use my powers yet.”
He said nothing else, but you noticed his fingers tightening around his cup. Had you done something wrong?
“Is something wrong?” you asked gently, reaching a hand subtly closer to him.
But in that moment, a hot, itchy feeling shot down your arm. With a gasp, you tensed, recognising the feeling and scrabbling to restrain it as you had learned to.
Though you held back the threatening torrent, a small flicker of blue escaped, leaping from your hand.
Closing your eyes and gritting your teeth, you withdrew, but a sudden smashing sound assaulted your ears, making it difficult to focus inwardly. The moment you flinched away, eyes snapping open to see a chair strewn on the floor among a growing tea stain and shards of shattered ceramic, control slipped away from you again.
Eyes widening, you backed away from V, now several paces away from you. Blue crackled around your hands.
It prompted you to take your eyes off the shadowy figure of V, breathing deeply as you locked your powers away, a slight simmering in your chest the only reminder as they retreated.
You had successfully shut down your powers, as you had been taught. But it didn’t seem to have been enough, not for the tense figure that stood on the other side of the trashed kitchen.
Your eyes opened as you staggered back and into the wall, panting with the exertion your powers always inflicted. You opened and closed your hands experimentally. No more electricity threatened. Next, your eyes fell on V, who took another step backwards.
You didn’t know what to say, but before you had the chance, another figure was approaching from the dark corridor. They were practically running towards you.
Even in the unlit space, you soon saw that it was Jungkook. His nostrils flared as he noticed you, but first he turned to V. Not far behind on his heels was Jimin, who didn’t spare you a glance as he ran to V as well, instantly throwing his arms around him from behind.
You could only stand, frozen as Jimin led V away. Jungkook remained.
Biting down on your tongue, you pushed yourself to stand unsupported again. Jungkook stepped disdainfully over the remnants of V’s tea on the floor, stalking towards you. He didn’t stop until he was close enough that it forced you to look up at him.
“What are you thinking?” he hissed.
“I-I don’t know what happened,” you stammered.
You might as well not have bothered, cut off nearly instantly by Jungkook. He was practically snarling, throwing a hand out as he ranted.
“You’re damn lucky you weren’t fried to a crisp!”
“I got my powers under control-“ you protested.
Teeth gritted, Jungkook pressed even closer to you, crowding your space as he glared into your eyes.
“I wasn’t talking about you!”
Clenching your jaw, you breathed through your nose, refusing to budge even though his face was mere inches away. Silence stretched out, nothing but your breathing filling the space as you tried to fathom his words.
“V…” you murmured. A curious frown creased your brows, but Jungkook didn’t feel like indulging you. His lips curled into a scowl.
“You must be stupid. I’m not sure if you noticed, but our powers aren’t anything to fool around with. All of us.”
“He… he wasn’t going to hurt me,” you spoke. At first in disbelief, but you grew more certain. V had had more than enough chance to attack you if he had wanted to.
“You don’t know that. Just stay away from him,” Jungkook spat, stepping back.
You jumped in before he could turn his back.
“And how am I supposed to do that? I live here too, Jungkook!”
“That’s the problem!” he rounded on you, “you don’t know anything about us!”
“I don’t know what you’re so afraid of,” you spoke coldly, “V is fine. And so am I, if you cared to know. I did exactly what I’m training to do.”
It was your turn to walk away, passing Jungkook on your way towards the exit. Unfinished tea be damned, you couldn’t keep arguing with him.
“Like scare him half to death?”
You paused in your path. Why did he think you were training to instil fear? You were training because you had no other option, with powers as unpredictable as yours. But it seemed fear was what you had caused anyway.
Dropping your head, you gazed at your hands, wishing anew that you didn’t have this complicated curse that drove people away. That made you into a danger.
But you didn’t have the words or the will to explain this to the obstinate Jungkook.
“See you at training,” you spoke flatly, and stepped away.
Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you're enjoying so far!!💜💜
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MADE TO CONQUER THE STARS
→ WILLIAM JAMES MORIARTY x F!READER FANTASY ROYAL AU
CW!/##: misogyny
"no matter what anyone might say to you, (name), understand this; you were made to escape these earthly bounds and to claim your rightful throne alongside the celestial titans—"
"—you were made to conquer the stars."
✦ CH 1: A Vow To The Heir
as constant and stagnant the cycle of death and life is, the eon old war also continues on and on; forever and ever. an emperor rises, he serves his purpose against the enemy empire as long as his breath will allow him to, and in the end, falls into the great deep.
the hellish, almost eternal cycle went on for centuries. that was, at least, until you were born.
"hear me, all nobles. she is a woman! firstborn as she might be — you most definitely cannot appoint her as the next heir to the throne!"
"blasphemous, grand duke! lady (name) was prophesized to bring an end to the eon long war by the gods! how dare you try and refute the divine?!"
"and yet you refuse to call her the crown princess, marquis! how hypocritical can one truly be?"
"SILENCE!"
you hear the old emperor's voice booming. and though he has become weary with age and his voice has grown hoarse, he is still the emperor—a hush falls over the high nobles that had been arguing in the meeting hall. you wince, fingers tightening around your dress as you trudge away through the hallway, not wanting to eavesdrop further than you have.
you did not want to hover over the fact that a debate in the house of nobles has begun once again, due to your birth and existence — a cruel thing life could be.
"having a pleasant evening, sister?"
your fourth brother speaks wittily, appearing out of the blue when you turn a corner. "i found a pet for you. or rather," he grins. "a 'knight' to protect you."
you are met with a man of an imposing height yet falling on the slimmer and weaker side, hair as golden as the sun and eyes as scarlet as blood. blood that has been countlessly spilled on the battlegrounds.
(e/c) pupils fall to his clothes; ornamented in expensive jewellery, scarlet clothes. a finely decorated man. in other words; like master like servant — your fourth brother was poorly trying to convey that you were nothing but a mere decoration.
you flinch when those lifeless eyes, defiant eyes that says his heart doesn't have a place for anybody, meet with yours and it was clear that your brother was insulting you.
"your royal highness." the blond's upper body falls into a deep bow, his gloved hand over his beating heart. his lashes too, you realise, are golden in colour. "it is my greatest honour to serve and protect you."
you clear your throat, lift your chin high, make an effort to seem composed — as anybody of your stature should be at all times. "lift your head." you speak, and he does. you turn to your fourth brother. "and pray tell, brother, does our father agree to this?"
"of course." he scoffs. "i found this guy," he slings a shoulder around the blond. the blond stiffens. "but father is the one who recommended him to take the position of your knight. after all, his word is absolute."
this was just a snide way of the old emperor implying that he was indifferent towards you; his daughter. perhaps he was trying to kill you off but his severe, deep rooted fear of angering the gods was holding him back — that is why he resorted to sending you such a weak looking man to 'protect' you, as he says.
✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡ . ✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡
"if you are uncomfortable with me, your highness, would you prefer i call upon the maids instead?" the blond speaks as his back is turned towards you; facing the wall with his hands behind his back.
it's been a few weeks since this blond has become your knight. the two of you are very much in your own worlds entirely—an odd match. everytime you try and converse with him, he finds every chance to run away—as if he doesn't want to be in the same room as you, as if it is a pain, as if it is a chore.
serving a female master surely might be.
"no, i'm-" you suck in a deep breath, trying to make the chain armour fit on your body. a woman's body was not suited for it since they were made for and used by men in war or sparring practice. "-ugh. fine."
the blond can hear you struggle from the way you're breathing hard. "you are the heir to the throne, are you not? why do you not leave the fighting and the physical combat to the knights instead?"
that strikes a nerve somewhere inside you.
clatter.
"you are my knight, are you not? why do you not leave the advising & nagging to the advisors instead?"
your knight turns to look at the dagger between his index and middle finger that you threw at him with incredible speed, and which he caught with ease.
"....forgive this fool's insolence."
william never seems to truly respect you. even when being insulted by your siblings or ministers while you're on your walks, he stays on the sidelines, takes on the role of a chameleon and stays utterly quiet.
"you have quick reflexes." your eyes shoot up, straightening yourself. the knight looks down to observe the dagger in his hand; ornamented with fine jewels and designs emblazoned onto the blade. "how much have you trained?" you question him.
"as much training as any knight was allowed to have, your royal highness." william murmurs quietly. dull, you think. he doesn't seem to have his own personality. a ragdoll or a puppet, of sorts.
"but you agree you are talented than most peers."
he hesitates. speaks: "i am proud of my capabilities."
that makes you smile, makes you think there's something there—not just this large wall he's put up.
willam watches as your body spins around, grabbing something long and sharp. it's only when you turn back that he understands what that object in your hand is, and what you're implying. "catch."
his gloved fist wraps around the metal of the sword. "..your royal highness," were you insinuating what he thought you were? surely you weren't.
"spar with me."
the blond winces at that, shaking his head furiously. "how could i? a lowly knight like me should never-" his body tenses up when he feels the sword's cool metal against his throat — right over his adam's apple.
"afraid you'll lose?" you arch an eyebrow.
william sighs. "my head, yes." he sucks in air. "i'm afraid i may accidentally hurt you, your grace."
"i thought you were proud of your skills."
"not at the cost of drawing your grace's blood."
a noise makes it's way out of you, something between a chortle and an unbelieving scoff. "you will draw blood from me either way, directly or indirectly, if you are too weak to protect me when i need you."
william has his eyebrows furrowed, but is silent. his gaze is as empty as always, always dead, never truly on you, never meeting your eyes. he looks somewhere far, far away. a place only he can see.
"..as you say, your grace."
✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡ . ✦ ₊ ♡ . ₊ ✦ . ♡
you grip the hilt of your sword tightly. a thin line of sweat trickles down your brow, and you can feel a dull ache in your muscles from your relentless training. as the firstborn child and heir to the throne, you've pushed yourself to the limit, determined to prove your worth alongside the male knights.
william circles you warily, his keen eyes scanning for any openings, but he's hesitant in his movements. "i don't wish to hurt you, your grace," he says, his brows creased in concern. "perhaps we should call it off?"
you feel a flash of irritation at his words, you've worked hard every day, harder than any male knight so you can be acknowledged — even if by the slightest. "do not treat me as if i am a delicate wallflower. i am your equal right now; your opponent."
a fresh cut on his cheek oozes blood, and his sleeve is ripped, exposing a nasty bruise on his forearm. he winces when he feels a particularly strong pang of pain on each of them. he's also panting, just as you are. good, you think to yourself. he's getting tired.
"hff..haa.."
you can feel a slight sting on your own skin where william's blade had grazed you earlier. with a huff and a sudden flurry of movement, he lunges forward, sword slicing through the air. you parry the blow, the clash of steel ringing out across the training yard.
there was no doubt about this; he was strong. you could feel it when his blade clashed against yours and he pushed against you with an almost inhuman strength. your lips curve upwards. pushing back, you counterattack, raining a flurry of blows upon him.
"you seem.. exhausted, your grace." william observes. sweat pours down your face, and your muscles scream in protest, but you refuse to give an inch.
"not as much as—" you grunt. "—you, though."
william struggles to keep up, his brow furrowed in concentration as he desperately blocks your strikes. seizing an opening, you lunge forward and sweep his legs out from under him, sending him falling to the ground. he tries to get back up, tries to search for his sword beside him but is too panicked to actually calm himself down and find it. he freezes when he feels the tip of your blade stop just shy of his throat.
and his eyes go wide.
"yield," you command, your voice firm and unyielding.
william stares up at you, his expression a mix of admiration and begrudging respect. you truly are on a level of your own. his breath is ragged and his chest is heaving up and down. from his perspective down here you look almost ethereal. divine. to him, the sun behind you and you yourself seem and are the same.
no wonder the gods chose you from every other being, no wonder you are their favourite daughter.
"i yield." he mutters.
the training ground is basked in a hue of golden. the trees rustle with the winds. "your grace," his voice is trembling as he speaks. he had underestimated you and that lead to his loss. no—even if he had been as cautious as one can be, he would have still lost, he would have still been overpowered to this extent.
you let your sword drop with trembling hands, only now realising how much of a fierce opponent he himself was now that the adrenaline has left your body. "speak."
william shakily drops to his knees, his head bowed deep. his fingers only now find his sword and he raises it past his head, holding each side. "i pledge my eternal devotion to you," he declares, his voice ringing with conviction. "i shall be your sword, your shield, your most steadfast protector. wherever your path may lead, to the heavens or to hell; i will follow you."
william's gaze lifts, and you are struck by the unwavering adoration in his eyes — a reverence that borders on the divine. for the first time you see his eyes glow. he would not just die for you; he would conquer kingdoms, he would lay waste to armies, he would move mountains to ensure your victory.
"i will follow you to the very edges of the known and the unknown worlds, if you will have me. for your breath is the very reason for my own, and your triumph is the only salvation i seek."
a knight's pledge.
"..." you can only watch in silence. it's almost beautiful the way he speaks, the loyalty that finally blooms in his gaze and his mannerisms when he looks at you.
your heart is drumming — how long you've yearned to hear this; to have your own willing knight, to serve you even if having a woman as a master is considered shameful and looked down upon by others.
slowly, you reach out and grasp the dagger, your fingers closing around the ornate hilt.
"i accept your vow, sir william," you say, your voice infused with the same reverence that shines in his eyes. william realizes that it's the first time you've spoken his name, and what a blissful thing it is, to finally serve someone worthy. "i will gladly have you at my side, as my most trusted knight.. and friend."
he smiles almost triumphantly and brings the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss onto it.
in that moment, you know that with william by your side, there is nothing you cannot accomplish. for in his eyes, you are not just a mere princess, but a goddess, his goddess. a saviour — one to worship.
"thank you."
#★ : alvinflavored#william james moriarty x reader#william james moriarty#william james moriarty x you#moriarty the patriot#moriarty the patriot x reader#yuukoku no moriarty#yuukoku no moriarty x reader
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I’ll Wait For You
Amras x reader
A/N: This was based on the Arranged Marriage headcanons I wrote for the Fëanorians a while ago. Enjoy!
Warnings: arranged marriage AU, anxiety attack (minor), comfort, fluff
Words: 2.3k
Synopsis: With the recent union of your and Amras’s arranged marriage and thrust into the world of rivalry, you and Amras find yourselves in the comfort of each other’s company.
The palace of Tirion was a marvel, its white walls gleaming under the light of Telperion. Every corner of the grand hall was adorned with ornate decorations—garlands of gold and silver, and chandeliers that glittered like the stars themselves. Your new family knew how to display their wealth and power, and tonight’s gathering was no exception. The grandeur of the event was enough to take one’s breath away, but it also made you feel as if you were drowning in an ocean of expectation.
You had anticipated a certain level of formality when you were informed of your arranged marriage to Amras. The news had come swiftly, with little time to prepare, and you had barely caught your breath before you were thrust into the role of his spouse. The marriage itself had been a quiet affair, a ceremony marked by propriety and duty rather than celebration. You had accepted your fate with as much grace as you could muster, but it did little to calm the nerves that now gnawed at your insides.
This evening was your first official appearance as part of the House of Fëanor, and you were unaccustomed to the grandeur, to the sheer volume of people—nobles from every corner of Valinor, all dressed in their finest silks and jewels. Their eyes had been on you from the moment you entered the hall, assessing, judging. You could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on you, and you wondered if they could see how out of place you felt.
Amras had been at your side like a quiet reassurance in the midst of the chaos. He was a man of few words, and his quiet demeanour had been a comfort to you in the whirlwind that had followed your marriage. Yet, despite his calming presence, you could not shake the feeling that you were a stranger in this world of rivalry.
The rivalry was heated, an undercurrent that ran through the gathering like a silent storm. Fëanor and his half-brother Fingolfin had long competed in every aspect of their lives, and now it seemed that even the marriages of their children had become another arena for their contest. Each noble family seemed to be evaluating not just you, but the alliance your marriage represented. It was too much—the grandeur, the scrutiny, the sense that you were nothing more than a piece on a chessboard, moved by forces beyond your control.
As the evening wore on, the noise and the crowd began to overwhelm you. Every smile felt forced, every word strained. The music, once beautiful, now felt like an assault on your senses. Your heart raced in your chest, and the walls of the grand hall seemed to close in around you. You needed to escape, to find a place where you could breathe without feeling the weight of so many eyes on you.
Making your excuses as politely as you could, you slipped away from Amras’s side with a murmured promise to return soon. His reply was a simple nod, though, the slight furrow in his brow questioned your decision, nevertheless he had let you go without question. You wound your way through the throng of people, past the servants carrying trays of food and drink, and finally through a side door that led into one of the many corridors of the palace.
The quiet of the corridor was a welcome relief from the noise of the hall, but it did little to calm the storm that raged inside you. Walking quickly, your footsteps echoing against the marble floors as you sought out a place where you could be alone, where you could gather your thoughts and still your racing heart. And it seemed as the corridors twisted and turned, leading you deeper into the palace, you found yourself at the entrance to the gardens.
The scent of jasmine and roses filled the air, mingling with the cool, crisp scent of the night. A soft breeze stirred the leaves of the trees, and the sound of running water from a nearby fountain provided a soothing backdrop to the otherwise still night. The path before you was lined with stone benches and flowering bushes, their petals glowing softly in the light of the stars above. Briskly you followed the path, your feet carrying you deeper into the garden until you reached a secluded corner where the night-blooming jasmine grew thick and fragrant.
Here, at last, you allowed yourself to breathe as you sank down onto one of the stone benches, your hands trembling as you buried your face in them. The tears you had been holding back all evening spilled over, hot and unwelcome, and you felt a sob catch in your throat. It was all too much—too fast, too overwhelming. You had barely had time to process your new life, and now you were expected to be a part of this grand family, to fit into a world that felt completely alien to you.
You knew that Amras was kind, that he would understand if you told him how you felt. But you didn’t want to burden him with your fears, not when he had his own struggles to contend with. He was a quiet man, often overshadowed by his more outspoken brothers, and you wondered if he felt just as out of place in this grand gathering as you did.
Caught in your whirlwind of emotions, a soft rustle of leaves behind you made you freeze, and you hastily wiped the tears from your cheeks, trying to compose yourself. You turned, expecting to see a servant or perhaps one of Amras’s brothers, but instead, you found yourself looking into the concerned eyes of your husband.
“Amras,” you breathed, your voice shaky as you attempted to stand. You hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t expected him to follow you.
He didn’t say anything at first, simply watching you with those piercing green eyes of his. Then, slowly, he stepped forward and knelt in front of you, halting your actions, his gaze searching your face for answers.
“Please, no need to stand. Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.
You wanted to lie, to tell him that you were fine, that you just needed a moment to yourself. But the words caught in your throat, and all you could do was shake your head as fresh tears welled up in your eyes.
Immediately, his expression softened, and without a word, he reached out to take your hands in his. His touch was warm, grounding you at the moment, and the gentleness of it made your heartache. “It’s all right,” he said quietly, his voice soothing. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over again. “I–I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to run off like that…it’s just…everything is so much, and I don’t know how to—”
Amras squeezed your hands gently, cutting off your words. “I know,” he said softly. “It is overwhelming, isn’t it? This is all so new, and…so much has changed so quickly.”
You nodded, biting your lip as you tried to rein in your emotions. “I don’t belong here. I can't fit in…or never,” you whispered. “I don’t know how to…to be what they expect me to be.”
At your whimpers his eyes softened as he reached out to take your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “You’re not alone in feeling that way,” he admitted. “I’ve lived with my family my entire life, and even I feel out of place sometimes. They can be…a lot.”
You looked up at him, surprised by the honesty in his voice. He was quiet by nature, often overshadowed by his more boisterous brothers, but in this moment, you saw the depth of his understanding and his own struggles.
“It’s just that everything happened so fast,” you continued, your voice trembling. “I barely had time to process the arrangement before we were married, and now…now I’m here, surrounded by all of this, and it’s like I can’t keep up.”
“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect things to move so quickly either. I thought…I thought we would have more time to get to know each other, to adjust.”
He paused, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. “I want you to know,” he said slowly, “that I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be someone you’re not, or that you have to meet anyone’s expectations—least of all my father’s.”
“You don’t truly mean that?” you whispered brokenly.
In response, he offered a genuine smile and a nod of his head. “Oh, but I do.”
You felt a rush of gratitude at his words, and your grip tightened on his hand. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “I—I’m so relieved to hear you say that.” You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and for the first time that evening, you felt like you could breathe. The weight that had been pressing down on you lifted slightly, and you looked at his with newfound gratitude.
Shaking his head, his expression gentle. “Perfection is overrated,” he said softly. “And it’s not what I want from you. I just want us to be able to talk, to get to know each other as we really are—not in feeling out of place. I understand how overwhelming it can be, especially when you’re suddenly thrust into the middle of all this expectation.”
His honesty touched you deeply. You had always admired him for his quiet strength, but hearing him admit his own vulnerabilities made you feel closer to him in a way you hadn’t expected. The idea that you weren’t alone in your feelings, that even someone as composed as Amras could feel out of place, gave you a sense of comfort and camaraderie.
“I’ve always felt like an outsider,” you confessed quietly, turning your gaze to the flowers blooming around you. “Even before all this. I’m not used to being the center of attention, and it feels like I’m constantly under scrutiny now. I’m afraid of making a mistake, of disappointing you or your family.”
While his expression softened, he hesitantly reached out to gently cupped your cheek, turning your face so you could meet his eyes. “You could never disappoint me,” he said with quiet conviction. “And as for my family…they’re a lot to handle, I know. They’re just…well, they’re a passionate lot, and sometimes that passion can be overwhelming. But you don’t have to worry. Take as much time as you need to settle in, I’ll be patient.”
His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped.
For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, simply holding each other’s gaze. The garden around you seemed to grow even more tranquil, as if the night itself was offering its blessings to your newfound understanding. The gentle rustling of the leaves, the sweet scent of the jasmine, the distant chirp of crickets—it all became a comforting symphony that wrapped around you like a blanket.
As you sat there, you began to notice the little things about Amras that you hadn’t had the chance to before—the way his hair caught the moonlight, the gentle strength in his hands as they held yours, the quiet confidence in his voice that belied his earlier confession of uncertainty. There was a depth to him that you were only just beginning to understand, and it made you want to know more, to explore the facets of the man who had become your husband.
Eventually, Amras broke the silence, his tone lighter as he said, “You know, I was thinking…perhaps we should try to slip out of these gatherings more often. I’m sure my father and uncle would be too busy trying to outdo each other to notice our absence.”
You laughed, the sound bright and genuine, and it felt good to release some of the tension that had been weighing on you all evening. “You’re probably right,” you said, a twinkle in your eyes. “They seem more interested in their competition than in who’s actually present.”
“True,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “and when I was younger, I used to hide out in these gardens whenever family gatherings became too much. My brothers would be off making a spectacle, and I’d sneak away to find some peace.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the image of a young Amras hiding among the flowers, seeking refuge from the chaos of his family. “I suppose it’s no wonder you found me here, then,” you replied, a hint of amusement in your tone.
He chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “The gardens have always been a place of solace for me. It seems fitting that we’d find some peace here together.”
As the night wore on, you and Amras continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily between you. You spoke of small things at first—your favorite places, your hobbies, the things that brought you joy. And in return, Amras opened up about his own struggles, his feelings of being overshadowed by his brothers, his desire to find his own path.
The more you talked, the more you realised how much you had in common. You both longed for a sense of belonging, for a place where you could be yourselves without the weight of expectations.
As the night grew later and the chill in the air deepened, Amras finally stood and extended his hand to you. “Shall we make our farewells?” he asked softly, sensing that you were ready to leave.
“Sure, why not,” you murmured. “I think it’s high time we returned home.”
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>> 𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓
>> Prince scaramouche x reader ( manhwa AU )
You were suddenly reincarnated or transmigrated to one of your novels as one of the villainess of the story, using your knowledge of the novel and world you will find a way to escape your original fate and live
Drawing by @asagizuisen from insta
Dividers by @cafekitsune
Inspired by @iceunhie fanfic
<< scaramouche pov >>
You were isekaid into one of your favorite novels as one of the villainess that was executed by the male lead thru hanging due to the crimes they committed towards the female lead.
The villainess that you were transmigrated was a high ranking noble of the nation of inazuma and was Destined to marry the male lead and was jealous of the female lead due to them being the center of attention of the male lead.
Originally the villainess and male lead was childhood best friends and they were arranged to marry each other once they reached adulthood.
The male lead known as kunikuzushi or in other words scaramouche was the prince of inazuma and was Destined to marry the villainess known as yuki, a high ranking noble of inazuma.
Yuki was executed due to her hiring assassin to assassinate the female lead who was very much already infatuated with kunikuzushi.
Now you suddenly have isekai in the body of yuki, you use your knowledge of the novel and the world to change the course of your fate.
Since you reincarnated before the story started it gives you enough time to change your fate. At first you befriend the kunikuzushi and get closer to the other important side characters like guuji yae and the shogunate, kunikuzushi mother And before the start of the story you would fake your death and escape to another nation
You and him would spend time together, by you giving him advice and as well taking him towards inazuma city to have fun while skipping his lessons.
This gave you a reputation amongst the nobles of inazuma as an untamed and undesirable young lady as well giving you a clan a bad name, every time you went home you would get a lecture from your parents as well a beating by a wooden stick but it never stops you from visiting him and taking him outside to spend together.
At first you don't get along with the shogunate but after a confrontation about kunikuzushi you ask her to spend time with him since he's been wanting to spend time with her, by miraculously you manage to convince her and now once a week she would spend time with him.
Guuji yae or yae Miko was interesting for you, she seems to be interested in you even helping you. By teaching you spells and enchantment. You think she's actually glad you are here to make kunikuzushi happy.
You and him would spend your time together 24/7, sitting under the cherry blossom, having lunch together and study together. One time you and him were at a cliff looking at the sunset and he intertwined both of your hands and made a promise that he promised to be the best husband for you and he sealed this promise with a kiss.
Recently a rebellion started amongst the nation and watatsumi causing war inside the peaceful nation, this is your cue to leave since the story started at the middle of the war and was stopped by the female lead. And the villainess was executed due to giving information towards the rebellion. You manage to get a hand of the leader of the rebellion with divine priestess kokomi to assist you with your fake death.
You had everything in plan one of the previous events before the story, the Shogunate will give a speech and kunikuzushi and you will be in the background and some watatsumi soldiers ambush the speech. This is the perfect chance to fake your death.
The plan is ready, you put a bag of fake blood under your expensive kimono and you met with him, kunikuzushi was star struck by your outfit as if he was admiring the most beautiful flower in the world. Before the speech you hug him knowing this will be your final interaction.
In the middle of the speech as expected watatsumi soldiers appeared and started to attack, and one of them throw their spears at you and it manages to pierce you and the bag of fake blood that you were wearing creating an image of you being stab, the good thing that the spear didn't hit any vital spot so you can heal the injury by using magic. And your body falls down and the fake blood creates a puddle giving an image of death in front of the people.
Screams emerged from the crowd and kunikuzushi saw it all, his entire world slowed down when the spear pierced you, before he could approach your body he was dragged by guards to escort him to a safety, he struggled against them wanting to get towards your dead body screaming and crying asking to be let go against the guards with tears running down his eyes.
Meanwhile your body was taken by the watatsumi island, where a boat is ready for you to go to liyue far from the nation as possible you thank kokomi and get in the boat to go to liyue.
You managed to settle in liyue, you still felt bad about leaving kunikuzushi but it's for the best he will be happier with the female lead. You heard news about inazuma that's been non-stop plagued by thunderstorms and rain.
As well hearing about the prince there, being a tyrant his soft heart has turned cruel punishing anyone that dares to speak to him as well training non stop. As well known being included in the fight against the rebellion by leading armies of soldiers in the front line.
Back at inazuma, kunikuzushi at night after training and strategizing he would visit your room and hug your kimono and cry himself to sleep. As well promising revenge for you and bringing your dead body back from the watatsumi.
He aligns himself with someone named the doctor one of the harbingers of Snezhnaya who has the ability to bring back the dead as well a master of black magic, he has been learning black magic from him to find a spell to bring you back to live all he needs is your body so he can finally have you back and he won't stop until he finds you and have you back so you and him can embrace again and married like he promise. Death will not do you part
#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#genshin scaramouche#genshin wanderer#genshin kunikuzushi#scaramouche#wanderer#genshin scara#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#kunikuzushi#kunikuzushi x reader#manhwa au#genshin manhwa au#raiden shogun#yae miko#genshin headcanons#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin#genshin imagines#genshin impact x reader
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Honestly, I just love to hear you rant!!! My request is any au you choose, with Crewel, Rook, and Vil, together or separate, your choice!!! I think your rants are super sweet and sound so much like my own to my friends!!! It kinda makes me think of when I spent 30 minutes trying to find out how much a pint of ale cost in 1843 England for one sentence in something I was writing! 😅 Too bad I'm already following you, because I would totally follow you again! Can't send the Tumblr gift thingies though, because screw American capitalism.
(That price of ale thing is literally how deep I get into world building if Im not careful XD Most days I just go, IT'S FINE YOU DON'T KNOW JUST KEEP WRITING)
Hmmmm... I've written about them all a lot in most of my AU's, honestly. I dont have anything really rant worthy left to say about...I literally had a whole hour to think about it, so instead, I'm just gonna drop another AU so I can get you something new about them. My Manhwa AU is pretty self-serving, but it's got plenty of Vil, Rook, and Crewel sprinkled in.
Basic idea of the AU is that 'Villainess' type story. Yuu was seen as a villain in the original timeline, only to die and come back in time to when she was a child with her full memories. She vows to change her ways and not die in such a way again.
Crewel and Crowley are Yuu's birth parents (Because my AU's are just the same universes in different settings-oop) Crewel married Crowley 100% for the money and power since Crowley was an arch duke. You couldn't call it a marriage of convenience hard enough. But of course, Crewel had to have a puppy to fufill his duty. Crewel will openingly treat Crowley like the bumbling man he pretends to be, but he is an adoring yet stern father to his precious puppy. So you can imagine when she wakes up one day and doesn't act like herself at all. He's so concerned about her...
Vil isn't nobility, but he and his father are both rich and popular enough to buy a title. Both actors, Vil leaves for the performance to the point he was called a succubus by one of his cast stars (teenagers acting so good one falls in love but the other is like 'dude we were acting, calm down'). Vil holds onto his issues with always being casted as a villain but he holds it in much better because hes just happy that he's well liked enough to always perform. As he gets older in this AU he starts to really show his support for the arts and all who create it. He's even started looking for investors to help him fund an acting school.
Rook is a noble man, lover of the odd and offbeat art, no one but his family really accepted his art. But he tried and he shared it with everyone he could. Vil saw it during an artshow and kinda tore it apart publicly by going on and on about how disturbed it made him feel. The current brownnoser tried to 'agree' saying it was bad art.
Vil:
Vil: There's no such thing as "bad art", you toad. I said it disturbed me, I find it grotesque is a very...eyecatching way. It's not bad because it made me feel something.
So Rook falls in love instantly and basically hunts this mean beauty.
They end up working well together because Vil has FINALLY found someone willing to write him in a hero role and PROPERLY CRITIQUE THINGS WITH. They discus art and what makes something 'moving' vs 'shock value'. They fall in love hard for each other to the point Vil accepted Rook's proposal and is already 60% planned through their wedding. Only to realize he never told anyone when his dad asked if he was open to seeing anyone because he's been told many a young man and lady would like to court him.
(SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO!!!)
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst wonderland#yuu oc#divus crewel#papa crewel#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#vilrook#manhwa AU
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Things I've worked out so far for my Merlin Soulmate AU:
Soulmates and soulmarks are their own subset of magic, and one that Uther can not eradicate, because everyone is born with soulmates
So he does the next best thing and makes it practically illegal to find one's soulmate, mandating the use of gloves and long-sleeves around anyone that is not immediately blood related (soul bonds are solidified through touch)
(Except in the cases where he found someone with a soul mark that moved (a sign that their soulmate was born with magic) in which he would force a parade of citizens to come touch until he finds them. (Very rarely does he find them in this way))
Uther repeals most of the laws surrounding soulmates that ensure their rights. Such as the law that protected bonded soulmates (soulmates who have solidified their bond through touch) from having to testify against each other. In fact, under the new laws he made, if someone refused to testify against their soulmate, both/all would be assumed guilty of the crime in question and punished accordingly
Uther, being very classist and viewing common folk as inferior, also passes a law nulifying marriages between noble and common born soulmates, and outlawing any future marriages of the kind. So people that had been noble for decades were stripped of their title and standing and forced to return to their lives from before (in many instances this part was not strictly enforced, and it caused a lot of outrage when a noble spouse DID abide by this and shun their common born soulmate that had been their partner.)
Uther also repeals a law that allowed nobles to lend their noble status to their platonic soulmates, suddenly making GENERATIONS of nobility commonfolk.
This causes resentment from these nobles, as well as their friends. Sorcerers are not the only ones trying to kill Uther in this au, he wrongs just about everyone.
The only reason he continues to stay in power is because he's so brutal and he fosters a strong inner circle with similar views as his (or so he thinks in some cases)
Uther only had one soulmate and it was Ygraine. However, Ygraine had another soulmate and it was Nimeuh.
Nimeuh tried very hard to dissuade Ygraine from agreeing to the enchantment that lead to her giving birth to Arthur, and it was Ygraine that had to persuade Nimeuh into agreeing to even do it, as Nimeuh knew the risks and did not want to risk losing a part of her soul
She does anyway, despite her every effort
Uther makes it illegal to talk to others about their soulmates or soul marks or to show them to anyone.
Now even before Uther's bullshit, it wasn't polite to just ask, or to ask to see someone's marks (unless that mark was your own, then it was fine, lots of people wanted to know what the representation of their soul looked like)
But this made it so the generation(s) raised following the purge had next to no knowledge of soulmates (Same as with magic) or what made them "evil"
Well, they're magic. Measures of destiny, pieces of ones soul displayed on the skin of the people most important in one's life. And when a piece of one's soul dies, it's agony.
It was no secret that Queen Ygraine was King Uther's soulmate.
In the years of and following the Purge, those particularly bold and angry would whisper, "His entire soul died with her."
Everyone's soulmarks are as follows:
Merlin's is a fluttering blue butterfly
Arthur's is a gleaming golden crown
Gwen's is a forge bucket filled with lavender
Morgana's is a crescent moon with a bright star rotating around the bottom tip (thank you to @clotpoleofcamelot for the idea!)
Percival's is an acorn that is beginning to take root (thank you to @jgvfhl for the idea!)
Leon's is an owl in flight holding an arrow in its talons (I'm not entirely sold on this one, so if anyone has other suggestions, I'm open to it)
Gwaine’s is an oak with his necklace's symbol carved into the trunk (thank you to @donttouchtheneednoggle for the symbol idea!)
Lancelot's is a sword crossed diagonally over a shield with the crest of a winged beast
And Elyan's is a forge hammer circled by chainmail links (thank you again to @donttouchtheneednoggle for the idea!)
Arthur, Elyan, Gwaine, Gwen, Lancelot, Leon, Merlin, and Percival are all soulmates with each other. Gwen also has a soulmate in Morgana, and Merlin has a soulmate in Freya
(Merlin's soulmark for Freya does not start moving until she is cursed, and Merlin asks Gaius what it means. He has a crisis when he finds out, as he puts together that Arthur and Gwen (and Lancelot, but thats not an issue) must know that Merlin was born with magic.)
Merlin before that point is not aware that his soul mark on his soulmates moves, marking him as a born sorcerer. Should he have known this, since Huneth would know due to her soulmate being Balinor? Yeah, he probably should, but there's a lot Huneth didn't tell Merlin in the show and it might not have occurred to her to tell him, or even that he'd find his soulmates in Camelot.
Morgana's other soulmates are Morgause and Mordred.
Leon, Gwen, and Elyan find out they are soulmates when they are kids. The thing about young kids is that they don't really care a whole lot about rules that they don't understand, rules that no one explained, rules that don't make sense. You cant go swimming and catch frogs in full clothes with gloves! So they don't. And it's just the three of them present when they find out that Leon is soulmates with both Gwen and Elyan
(Gwen has known that she and Elyan are soulmates since she held him for the first time. Siblings that are soulmates are unusual but not unheard of)
They agree not to tell anyone, as they don't want to get in trouble
Leon and Arthur soulbond by accident.
Arthur comes over one day to Leon's estate and Leon, who does not have gloves on as he is in his home, greets Arthur with a hair ruffle without thinking.
This is in front of Leon’s parents and a guard, so there is no covering it up when both boys have the exact same reaction, and Arthur asks what that feeling was
Leon (a teenager at this point, maybe 15-16) is TERRIFIED. He just broke the law in front of several witnesses, and soulbound with the king's son. He's expecting to get executed or banished
Neither of those things happen.
In fact, Uther is not even mad. Leon is well on his way to becoming a skilled and respected knight, and he comes from a loyal noble family going back generations. If anything, Uther sees Leon being Arthur's soulmate as a sign of his loyalty and a garentee he will serve him well (Never let it be said that Uther isn't a hypocrite)
It's not long after this that a young Arthur asks Gaius what it means when a soulmark moves. Gaius stiffens and slowly explains that it means that the soulmate was born with magic. "But I thought magic is evil?" "According to your father, it is illegal, yes." "But I thought soulmates were supposed to have positive lasting impact on your life. Leon does." And Gaius is feeling a mix of emotions, cause if Arthur is implying what he *thinks* he is... "Arthur, do you have a soulmark that moves?" And Arthur nods and shows him the butterfly with the gently flapping wings. Gaius instructs Arthur not to tell or show anyone this, especially Uther, as it could be dangerous not only for his soulmate, but for him as well.
Arthur listens to Gaius and doesn't say a word to anyone, including Leon (if he had, they might have figured out they had all the same soulmates, and Leon could have pointed him towards Gwen and Elyan sooner)
Gwen almost doesn't take the job as Morgana’s servant because TWO of her soulmarks move and her parents warned her and Elyan (who shared most of the same soul marks as her) never to let anyone see, to never talk about it, or it would put both them and their soulmate(s) in danger.
A downside to always having to wear gloves it it makes it rather difficult to dress someone, even if tools had been invented to help with the process. One day Gwen gets frustrated and Morgana tells her to take them off if it would be easier. And Gwen freezes a bit. Because Morgana is the king's ward, and this is a bad idea, she's encouraging her to break the law. But then Morgana takes off her own gloves and wiggles her fingers at Gwen "It's fine, Gwen. No one needs to know. It's a stupid law anyway." And Gwen turns away, heading for the door, and for a second Morgana thinks she's gone too far and is about to apologize when Gwen flips the lock on the door, ensuring it's secure and coming back, removing her gloves as she does so. Morgana grins and promises that nothing that happens before that door gets unlocked will be repeated to anyone.
Morgana holds out her hand for Gwen to shake and after a long moment Gwen takes it. And their marks for each other go warm and and this feeling of *rightness* settles over them both, they've found another piece of their SOUL
This is how Morgana gets confirmation that she has magic, by asking to see her mark on Gwen and realizing what it means that her mark *moves*
I have more that starts moving into what changes and stays the same to canon, but this is already so long that it will have to be another post. If anyone has any clarifying questions, please feel free to ask me!
#liv writes#bbc merlin#merlin#arthur pendragon#sir gwaine#gwen#guinevere pendragon#morgana pendragon#sir lancelot#sir percival#sir elyan#sir leon#platonic soulmate au merlin edition
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☕Fem. reader x Xavier. College! au. angst. fake dating. awkward. comfort. addiction. harassment. sa. slow burn. masturbation. miscommunication.
synopsis: After swearing you wouldn’t let winter break drag you into a slump, you decide to treat yourself to some coffee—a little pick-me-up to break the monotony. But the new barista clearly isn’t great at his job; your order always comes out bitter, no matter how simple it is. Frustrated, you finally ask why he’s even working at a coffee shop when he so obviously has no passion for it. He shrugs, his expression unreadable: “My friend’s too busy.” And before you know it, you’re proposing an absolutely ridiculous idea: fake dating. He hesitates at first, but when you outline the benefits—his nosy family finally gets off his back, and you get someone to stave off the holiday loneliness—it starts to make a strange kind of sense. What could go wrong? Besides everything, of course.
chocolate divider by @kodaswrld
masterlist | playlist | taglist |next.
wc: 1510.
one: pity party
The air smells faintly of cinnamon and wood smoke, courtesy of a flickering candle set in an ornate holder on the dresser. A plush area rug sprawls across the wooden floor, its intricate patterns partially hidden beneath the legs of a bed that looks almost too inviting. The bed itself is a fortress of comfort, layered with mismatched quilts, oversized pillows, and a soft faux-fur throw casually draped at the foot.
Fairy lights strung haphazardly along the headboard add a whimsical touch, their soft twinkle mimicking distant stars. On the windowsill, a small collection of succulents and winter flowers struggle to soak up what little light remains, while frost edges the glass, muffling the noise of honking cars and hurried footsteps.
The room wasn’t quite the haven it aspired to be. Sure, it tried—a valiant effort, really—but the cracks in its attempt at cozy perfection were painfully obvious. The throw blanket on the bed was more threadbare than plush, its corners fraying where they had snagged too many times on the unforgiving springs of the mattress beneath. The fairy lights dangling along the headboard were half burnt out, leaving odd pockets of shadow in their wake.
Your vanity was a cluttered mess, its surface drowning under half-empty mugs, dried-out makeup wipes, and an alarming number of hair ties that seemed to multiply overnight. The candles scattered around the room were decorative at best; you hadn’t lit one in months, and a faint layer of dust dulled their once-vivid colors.
The heater in the corner made its presence known with a relentless clank every fifteen minutes, as though it were a poorly rehearsed percussionist trying to join in with the muffled sounds of honking and distant sirens from the street below. The burgundy curtains, a noble attempt at warmth, were slightly too short, exposing the cold, scuffed baseboards below the windowsill.
You scoffed, tugging off your scarf and tossing it onto the back of your vanity chair, where it joined your jacket in a heap. The chair wobbled slightly under the weight, its legs uneven from years of service. The dim bulb in the lamp cast a yellowish tint over everything, exaggerating the flaws, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
You flopped onto the bed, ignoring the sharp creak of protest it gave.
Your eyes drift to the flowers on the windowsill, their once-vibrant petals now muted and drooping. Half-dead and pitiful, they leaned haphazardly in their ceramic pot, their stems buckling under the weight of bulbs that seemed too stubborn to wither completely.
You’d meant to dry them weeks ago—an ambitious little project, another “someday” task added to the pile of half-finished intentions. But life got in the way, as it always did, and the flowers had been left to fend for themselves. Now, they existed in a strange limbo: too lifeless to revive but not quite brittle enough to crumble into dust.
The soil was cracked and dry, pulling away from the edges of the pot in jagged lines, a quiet testament to neglect. A stray petal clung to the rim like it was trying to escape, while the others that had managed to fall lay in a faint trail leading toward the radiator.
You sighed, tilting your head. At least they hadn’t completely keeled over, sprawling on the floor like forgotten confetti. That was something, wasn’t it? You reached out absently, brushing a droopy leaf with your finger. It shuddered at your touch, as if even that was too much effort.
“I’ll deal with you tomorrow,” you muttered under your breath, fully aware you’d said the same thing yesterday—and probably the day before that.
God. Being single sucked.
Not that you had a boyfriend or anything—let's be real, the only thing worse than this boredom was the idea of trying to maintain something like that. But damn, was this exhausting.
You let out a dramatic sigh, grabbing your phone for the 20th time in the last hour. The whole “you-text-your-friend-they-don’t-answer-for-weeks” game was a special kind of aggravating. Like, what was the point? She’d swear up and down that she didn’t mean to ignore you, promised she’d “do better,” but deep down, you knew she wouldn’t.
Not that you were any better. When she had unadded you on 360 and Insta, you didn’t even notice. Not for a solid two weeks. And when you did, the weird part wasn’t the unadding itself—it was the fact that it didn’t even bother you. Shouldn’t that have been the moment? The glaring neon sign telling you to let it die, to let the whole friendship fizzle out gracefully?
But you didn’t.
No, you’d doubled down like an idiot, liking her posts, leaving comments, checking her stories just to remind her you existed. And for what? A halfhearted “sorry, I’ve been so busy” when she finally texted back two weeks later? You scoffed, tossing your phone onto the bed next to you.
“God, I need better hobbies,” you muttered to the empty room. Because clearly, this wasn’t cutting it.
Well… that, and the fact that you’d let her borrow your shirt for her date night. Lord, what an idiot you were.
It wasn’t even a casual, “sure, take whatever” situation. No, you’d gone out of your way to dig through your closet, pull out the shirt—your favorite one, the one that made you feel like you actually had your life together—and handed it over like some kind of saint.
“For good luck,” you’d joked, masking the pang of reluctance with a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
And what did you get for your troubles? Weeks of radio silence. No texts. No calls. Not even a blurry mirror selfie with your shirt captioned “thanks, bestie <3.” Nope, just a whole lot of nothing. The shirt hadn’t made its way back to you either, which honestly stung more than it should have.
You sighed, staring at your phone again. The temptation to send a passive-aggressive “hey, hope your date was worth my shirt” text was real, but you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.
“Next time, I’m lending out something ugly,” you muttered, as if that would make any difference.
You clicked your tongue, shaking off the sour thoughts. This was no time to be bitter. It was far too easy to slide into a depressive slump, especially with winter break stretching out ahead of you like an endless gray horizon. Nothing to do, no classes until the next semester, and plenty of time to overthink.
Broke, jobless, car-less. What a loser.
Okay, maybe not on the car part. That wasn’t entirely fair. You’d gotten into a wreck back in September, and, well, life had a funny way of spiraling out of control after that. Between dealing with insurance, trying to juggle your classes, and just existing as a college student, replacing the car had fallen lower and lower on your list of priorities.
And it wasn’t like you could magically pull money out of thin air. College students didn’t just have the money lying around for major expenses like that. Not when rent, tuition, and overpriced textbooks already felt like a slow, constant bleed on your wallet.
You flopped back onto your bed with a groan, staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t even that you wanted to go anywhere right now. But there was something maddening about the idea of being stuck, of knowing that even if you did want to escape for a bit, you couldn’t.
“Whatever,” you muttered to the ceiling. Tomorrow you’d figure something out. Maybe apply for a few jobs. Maybe clean your room. Maybe… anything that didn’t involve wallowing.
But for now? Wallowing it was.
You paused mid-sigh, the melancholic hum of Laufey filtering through your headphones like a bittersweet soundtrack to your wallowing.
Well, no wonder you felt like shit.
Her voice, all soft and aching, wrapped around your already fragile mood and dragged it deeper into the pit of self-pity. It was like pouring salt into a wound—but, you had to admit, it was a beautiful kind of salt. Still, it wasn’t helping.
You yanked the headphones off with a huff, tossing them to the side. The quiet rush of the outside world filtered in through the thick walls of your building: the distant wail of a siren, the faint hum of a neighbor's television, and somewhere far below, the unmistakable honking of rush-hour traffic.
“Okay,” you said to no one in particular, “we’re not doing this.”
No more sad-girl anthems. No more moody staring contests with the ceiling. You had two choices: keep spiraling or force yourself into some kind of productivity. Maybe not major productivity, but something small. A start.
With a deep breath, you sat up and looked around the room. It was a disaster zone, sure, but even tidying up a single corner might help. Or maybe you’d brew a cup of tea and pretend for five minutes that you were the kind of person who had it all together.
Anything to not fall into that kind of slump.
#pandoras box writing#hellinistical#x y/n#love and deepspace#xavier x you#xavier x mc#lads xavier x reader#lads xavier#xavier love and deepspace#xavier x reader#lnds#xavier lads#love and deepspace xavier#lnds xavier#lnds x reader
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2024 Snarry AUctoberfest Anon Masterlist 💚❤️
Below is the complete AUctoberfest 2024 list of Anon Works. Reveals will happen on the 9th November.
Thank you to all the wonderful participants who made this year so special, and to all the Snarry fans who have helped celebrate and enjoy the works created for this fest.
Our Guess the Creator Game will be coming soon, for anyone who wants to try figuring out who some of our talented participants were before reveals happen.
View the collection on AO3.
Podfic
Title: Lively Days at Potter House by khaleesisophie - a Podfic Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Length: 2:12:47 Summary: Podfic of Lively Days at Potter House by khaleesisophie Harry, who has a misplaced understanding of his own skill in matchmaking, attempts to strike a match for his dear friend, Draco Malfoy. A tale of misunderstanding and romantic misadventures. Or, the Emma Snarry AU we always needed. 💚❤️ Listen on AO3 💚❤️
Art
Title: A Dragon's Treasure Creator: ??? Prompt: 2023-171 Snarry as Dragons! Maledictus for drama? Animagus for fluff? Them just being dragons as very AU (without any ‘they-were-human-at-one-point’)? Httyd crossover? Obscure battle magic to fight Voldemort? Rating: General Audiences Word Count: ART and 278 words Summary: It is only in the world of legends and myths that dragons live today. They are matters of stories and tales told to children at night, fantasy so wondrous only the bravest of us dare to let our minds wander. 💚❤️ View on AO3 💚❤️
🧡
Title: Fanart: You Are... Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-199 - Snarry, but with dinosaurs Rating: General Audiences Word Count: Art Summary: What does Harry have to do to get Severus' attention? 💚❤️ View on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Illicit Goods Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-231: That trope where a character is told to disarm themselves of all their weapons but they keep pulling more and more out, but it's Snape. Harry is unbearably turned on the more weapons show up. Rating: Mature Word Count: Summary: Harry is very interested in what is in Snape's pants… and his bag, and his coat, and… 💚❤️ View on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Muggle Adventures (Alligators Edition) Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-82: An alligator features prominently in the fan work Rating: General Audiences Word Count: Artwork Summary: You want alligators? I'll give you alligators. 💚❤️ View on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: positions of love Creator: ??? Prompt: 2020-32 - Someone of your choice is producing a gay wizarding version of the kama sutra and needs to hire two wizards to model each position for the illustrations. Harry and Severus are the ones who get the job. Rating: Explicit Word Count: Summary: A few pages of a gay wizarding version of the kama sutra, starring Severus and Harry 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
Fanfic - In alphabetical order
Title: A Prize Worth Any Price Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Explicit Word Count: 7.7k Summary: Defeated by the Rogue King and his army, the remaining nobles of Voldania sacrifice omega Severus Snape as a war prize. They know the propaganda about the Rogue King's marauding ways and discarded lovers. The nobles laugh about sending an old, 'ugly' omega and taunt Severus with predictions that he'll be hate-ravished or killed outright for the insult. Meanwhile Harry thinks he's agreed to an arranged marriage for the peace contracts. He knows about the spy who worked for the resistance during Voldemort's reign. He's excited to have such a dashing spouse. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: After Spinner's End Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Mature Word Count: 4.2k Summary: When Harry left his aunt and uncle's he hadn't meant to end up in Cokeworth. But he'd fallen asleep on the bus; it was late, and now he needed somewhere to stay until morning. While the crooked, empty house on the corner looked like it would do just fine in a pinch, had Harry bothered to ask, the locals would have told him the house at Spinner's End might look empty, but it wasn't. Something lived there; whatever it was, it was best left alone. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: After the Orchard Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-110: Newly widowed Harry has trouble getting his son to sleep. One night Hermione sends him a podcast of Severus Snape talking about his time during the war, and it puts his son directly to sleep. Even though the man had never answered any of Harry’s letters through the year, he decides to reach out and tell him about this new development. Rating: Mature Word Count: 20.8k Summary: Same as prompt. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Bad Ideas Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-82: An alligator features prominently in the fan work Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 684 Summary: A romantic weekend gets run aground when a hunt for mythological creatures finds “something.” 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: baring my arse (baring my heart) Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024 09 - Naked wedding. That's it, that's the prompt. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5k Summary: "Why do we have to be naked again?" 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Beginnings Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-154 - Harry is the God of Earth and Severus the God of the Nightsky Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 3k Summary: In the beginning there was nothing… A retelling of the beginnings of time and the world as we know it. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Blonde Tresses Creator: ??? Prompt: Prompt: 2024-115 - Severus had sworn never to kneel before another wizard again. But he had to try proposing one last time. Rating: Mature Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Same as prompt. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Chance Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-66 Harry sends a dick pic to the wrong number. Oops. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27.8k + art Summary: Severus did not receive a lot of text messages. Especially not to his work phone. Especially not from unknown numbers. Especially not dick pics. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Chords of Affection Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-130 - When the bartender says 'Someone bought you a drink' both Severus & Lucius assume it's for Lucius. Both are surprised when they're told it's for Severus. Lucius pushes Sev to talk to the gorgeous green-eyed man staring at him with a glass raised. (Lucius ships snarry). Rating: Explicit Word Count: 18k Summary: Severus is distracted by his newest admirer. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Conditions To Bloom Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-11: Severus is a plant doctor who takes in people’s sick plants and nurses them back to health. Harry is a well-meaning plant dad whose poor plants are constantly on death’s door. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Word Count: 9.8k Summary: Severus lets his gaze fall to the sagging aloe plant in front of him, and it hardly takes a cursory glance before he has his diagnosis. “Root rot,” he says. The man’s eyebrows shoot up on his forehead. “But how do you–I’ve hardly been watering it at all!” Supporting a drooping leaf with the tip of his pen, Severus eyes the unnatural lean of the stem and gives the customer a disbelieving raise of one eyebrow. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Deceit and Debauchery Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-37 Regency AU, would love if it's Bridgerton inspired. Maybe Kanthony? (unfortunately I don’t know Bridgerton that well but I hope this regency smut fest will suffice). Rating: Explicit Word Count: 13.8k Summary: Severus' curiosity as to who Tracey Davis is going to try to entrap into marriage pays off when he see's that it is none other than Harry Potter. He knows he has the chance to save his friends son from what will certainly be a disastrous marriage but what will be Severus' rewards for his efforts? 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Don't You Wanna Mess With Me? Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-106 - Harry runs his own successful bakery after the second wizarding war. His treacle tart is famous throughout the wizarding world, but the recipe remains a closely guarded secret. Severus runs a rival bakery, and tries to sneak into Harry's kitchen after hours to steal the recipe for himself. Harry is startled and manages to tip an entire batch worth of batter over Severus in his shock, triggering an epic food fight that rapidly devolves into a filthy fuck. Bonus points for a sickly sweet ending. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.3k Summary: Things get messy when rival bakery owner, Severus Snape, pays Harry a visit in his kitchen. 😘 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Fate's Blind Date Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-58 - Harry gets stood up but sees Severus walking along the street and invites him out instead. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 29.8k Summary: When Severus indulges himself with a walk along the West End after work, the last thing he imagines is that he will get invited to a show by a gorgeous young man. Things only get more astounding after that when their casual meeting evolves into something more and Severus finds himself pulled into a family feud that threatens to bring his dark past to light. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: First Impressions Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-216: Trope reversal: Snape was forced into multiple arranged marriages by his grandparents. The spouses kept dying. Very mysterious. But Harry isn't worried when he winds up the latest candidate. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24.6k Summary: When Harry is forced to marry a complete stranger, he tries to make the best of things. After all, he's a Healer, he can take care of himself. And his new husband seems nice enough… But why, exactly, has Severus already been married three times before? And why have all three of those previous spouses died unexpectedly? Is Harry next? Or will he fall in love with his new husband after all? 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Flutter Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-76 Apartment Life Harry's been warned to steer clear of the 24th floor. Curiosity got the better of him and Harry checks it out. Its deserted except for apartment 2444. Harry notices signs of life—a faint light under the door, soft sounds of movement. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 30.2k Summary: He said uselessly, "Sev, don't go." "I'm s-sorry-" Harry cupped Severus' face and gazed into his eyes. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, sad, raven, mine. "These stay the same," Severus said. "Remember that when you look at me. Remember, it's me.” Flutter does my heart, When you ask me to stay. I want to live in the moment But the past keeps me a prey. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Gwindr Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Explicit Word Count: 11.9k Summary: After a couple of bad relationships, one abusive the other unsatisfying, Harry is desperate to find himself the perfect Dom. His friends are trying to help but their lack of understanding makes them more of a hindrance. Turning to the new wizarding dating app for men, Gwindr, he hopes to be able to find a diamond in the rough. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Help Stepdad, I'm Stuck! Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-67 - Help Stepdad, I'm stuck! Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6k Summary: After years of marriage, Severus can feel his relationship with Lily waning. He had already been contemplating ending things when his stepson, Harry, proposes something that he struggles to refuse, although will he ultimately come to regret it? 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Leak Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-165 - Harry is a plumber (hot daddy type with hairy chest - I beg for it). He was called to Spinner's End. The door was answered by a pissed off, soaked wet bloke in a silk robe and lace stockings. Harry had never been turned on by the sight of another man in his entire life. Well, until now. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.3k Summary: Same as prompt. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Mating for Life - Breeding Season in the Highlands of Scotland Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.3k Summary: “Among the ruins of an ancient castle in the Highlands of Scotland lives a human species like no other.“ Dudley watches a very educational documentary out of boredom. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: (Not Quite) As You Wish Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-124: After Nagini's bite, due to some unresolved life debt stuff, Severus becomes Harry's Genie in a Bottle… And he desperately wants to make Potter's life as difficult as he can - until he hears what Harry actually wishes for. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Word Count: 6.5k Summary: It’s post-war, and Harry is still hearing voices. A voice. One, very specific voice. A voice that wants something of him. And it’s the one thing he doesn’t do. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: On thin ice Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-14 Avatar the Last Airbender crossover fic. Is Harry the Avatar? Is Severus the cabbage man? Up to you! Rating: Explicit Word Count: 6.2k Summary: During a ritual at the South Pole to reconnect with her Avatar spirit, Harriet runs into trouble. Snape is hunting her, tasked with bringing her back to Fire Lord Voldemort. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Raven King Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-78 - James warned Harry not to go. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5.4k Summary: Against his father's wishes, Harry and his friends, freshly graduated from Hogwarts High, visit the elusive Euphemia Club. Where for the right price, dreams come true. “The head is too wise. The heart is all fire.” ― Maggie Stiefvater, The Raven King 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Reckoning Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-51: Corporate Snarry! CEOs, IT guys, or just regular employees finding love. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 31.2k Summary: Harry discovers that there is something wrong at his company and sets out to visit it undercover, pretending to be the new Happiness Manager. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Rock Bottom Creator: ??? Prompt: Prompt #1: Wildcard Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Word Count: 10.1k Summary: Just when you think you've hit rock bottom, you want to fuck a student. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: sanguis nocte Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Explicit Word Count: 17.7k Summary: When Harry is forcefully turned into a vampire, he turns to the only person he knows will be able to fix him. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Saving Magic Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-170 Time travel (how is up to you). Harry and Severus are now in the same year in Hogwarts. What year? What happens? Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Word Count: 6.5k Summary: "What do you want now, Zir?" Harry asked cautiously. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Second Chance Inheritance Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-232 - The Prince family has a different sort of inheritance, the secret to their success: When they come of age, members are taught the Second Chance spell. One chance to go back in time and fix things. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 32k Summary: Following a tragedy, Severus Snape is determined to tap into his estranged family's greatest legacy. He finds himself with more chances to woo the love of his life than he ever thought possible. 💚❤�� Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Explicit Word Count: 11.8k Summary: There's an outbreak of Hanahaki, and Curse Breaker Hyacinth Potter is brought onto the case, to work closely with the Aurors and Unspeakable Sulpicia Snape. Snape doesn't have a romantic bone in her body, and Hyacinth is happily in love with Ginny Weasley. They have nothing to worry about...right? 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Something Wounded Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-132 - cyborg AU Rating: Explicit Word Count: 8.1k Summary: After surviving the galactic wars, Severus just wants to run his cyborg shop in peace. He lives on Ceplor, a distant, lonely planet. Then, one day, Harry fucking Potter walks into his shop. The infuriating young man traveled across the universe to find him. Why? Because Potter is a cyborg, too. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Synthesis Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-21 - Non-magical AU: “You’re a wizard, Harry.” Rating: Explicit Word Count: 11.2k Summary: Severus is a brilliant but hard-to-work-with chemistry professor, who only teaches because he has to but would much rather spend all his time doing research. Harry is the grad student that either Albus or Minerva - the head of the chemistry department on paper, even though everyone knows Severus always gets what he wants - has assigned to essentially follow Severus around and tell him “no” when he’s being unreasonable. Harry is tasked with keeping Severus on budget and preventing all his students from quitting his class. Severus takes this as a personal affront. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: The Tenth Rule Creator: ??? Prompt: N/a Rating: Explicit Word Count: 11k Summary: Harry’s new master is strange. He dresses Harry in clothes. He cooks Harry food and tells him to bathe when he is dirty. He lets Harry sleep in the bed. He has not touched Harry since he got here. Harry keeps waiting and waiting. Or: Harry is a slave. Severus is his new owner. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Too Hot To Handle: Wizarding Edition Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-102: wizards discover reality TV. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 92.7k Summary: In a world where Voldemort died during the blitz and the Wizarding War, led by Bellatrix Lestrange, ended for good in 1981 when the attack on the Potters led to the Death Eaters being captured without incident, the Ministry is at a loss. The younger generation are not showing any inclination to settle down and have children, as their parents did before them. They considered a number of ideas but the development of the two-way mirror allowed for reality television to become a viable option. Welcome to Too Hot To Handle: Wizarding Edition, a show designed to encourage contestants to form deep and meaningful connections, punishing anyone who breaks the rules. Making more meaningful connections often has unforeseen consequences and what people intend to happen isn't necessarily what actually happens. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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Title: Wasting Away Again in Margaritaville Creator: ??? Prompt: 2024-80 - A fanwork inspired in some way by the works of the late, great Jimmy Buffett. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Word Count: 2.1k Summary: Severus Snape hanging out in a resort, life in shambles, enjoys a frozen margarita or three and eyes the bartender. 💚❤️ Read on AO3 💚❤️
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