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missmomof3 · 1 year ago

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Deep Regret (shelby sister fic)

Sorry if this is awful, this is my first time ever trying to write a fanfiction. I'm not sure what this would be classified as but probably too long to be a drabble. Maybe an imagine? If anyone reads this, thank you and I am fine with criticism (I'm sure I did lots of things wrong) but please be kind.

Summary: y/n shelby always tried to make her family happy, but they all believed Grace over her and soon most bonds were disintegrating, especially with Tommy, who she'd always loved and looked up to.

TW:character death, not proofread, possibly missing some so read at your your own discretion.

"Y/N get in here!" Tommy yelled from his office at you where you were sitting in Michael's office doing your homework.

"What did you do this time" Michael asked, irritated but fortunately not at you, he hadn't turned on you.

You had always been Tommy's favorite sibling, him more of a father than a brother to you until Charlie was born. Until recently you'd even lived at Arrowhouse with Grace and him. But after Charlie was born suddenly Grace began complaining to Tommy of how disrespectful you were when no one was around. That you called her names, taunted her and even until they married, had nicknamed little Charlie "the bastard". But just to her, not around anyone else. You hadn't ever done any of that and at first were confused when Tommy began yelling at you frequently and you weren't allowed alone with Charlie anymore.

He held a family meeting without you there to discuss your behavior. By the time that happened you weren't friendly to Grace anymore because what was the point when you'd be in trouble anyways. The family had noticed the tension so for the most part believed Tommy when he told them of your troubling behavior and they began being short with you and before long it felt like all you had left was Ada, Finn and Michael. Polly was no Grace fan but was disappointed in you for supposedly insulting a baby and felt like you should be grateful Grace had agreed to let you live in their house. John, Esme, Arthur and Linda took that line of thinking as well, deeply disappointed in how you went from being one of the sweetest people they knew to being so disrespectful and cruel. They especially were disappointed that you'd be so two-faced and only do this while no one else was around. At least have the backbone to own your behavior was their thoughts.

So now here you were, living with Polly because even though she was disappointed you were still her niece, but living with hostility everywhere. You were still polite when you saw Grace, but now you held yourself back from everyone so their accusations and lack of faith in you didn't hurt so badly.

Responding to Michael's question with a shrug, you got up to walk into Tommy's office ready to be told off again for some imagined offense.

"Sit down y/n," Tommy said coldly, "and explain to me why you felt the need to make my wife cry last night."

Family dinner was held at Arrowhouse last night, and even though you hadn't wanted to go, Ada promised she'd be there and insisted you go with your head held high, knowing you were innocent. She never believed Tommy, remembering how it felt when Grace's betrayal took her Freddy away. Remembering you sneaking to her place to help with Karl, and how alone she felt thinking her brother betrayed her. It baffled her how her family could believe Grace over you, but whenever she brought it up they all asked why Grace would lie when she loved Tommy and she knew how much sending you away and practically severing his bond with you had hurt him. So she, Michael and Finn still staunchly defended you but gave up on getting through to anyone. That's why last night you stuck close to Ada, never being alone with Grace, in the hopes this very incident wouldn't be happening.

"Tell me, oh brother of mine, what did I do to Grace now?" You asked, no longer worried abour his reaction to your attitude since you had already grieved the loss of your relationship.

So he started laying out some imagined conversation that happened in the kitchen when Grace went to ask Mary a question. According to her you'd seen her and started criticizing her hosting skills, telling her what a disaster the upcoming charity gala would be.

You smirked at his tirade, because this time you knew you had proof. "Call Ada, ask her what happened last night" you said, standing up and getting ready to leave.

"I haven't dismissed you yet," Tommy clipped, grabbing your arm. "I am putting you on notice, if you do anything to embarrass Grace tomorrow night at the gala, I will have no choice but to completely cut you from the family the minute you turn 18. That means no help, no using the Shelby name, you'll be on your own."

"Bold of you to assume once I'm 18 I'll be sticking around here" you said, rolling your eyes, "I know my place now, at the bottom. When I'm an adult I'll take care of myself. I'll miss the family I had, but I'll make my own." Then you left.

Tommy sat with his head in his hands. You'd never know how much his heart broke to imagine you completely gone from his life. He didn't know how to reach you anymore. His sister, closer to a daughter. He still loved you so much and had hoped tough love would work, but he missed you deeply and choosing his wife and son had felt like removing a large part of his heart. If only you could have stayed the sweet girl you once were, before jealousy had taken over.

When Grace first went to him with your behavior, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But the more she went to him and the more you denied it the more arguments it caused between him and Grace. Until finally she told him he was putting his true family aside for a girl who wasn't his daughter, who would eventually marry and leave him, while his wife and son suffered in the meantime. It became easier to give in, to be angry at the strife in his house that you were causing. Especially when it stopped as soon as you moved to Polly's.

But he couldn't ignore the voice at the back of his head reminding him Grace was an accomplishhed liar while you had always been awful at it. So he called Ada. 30 minutes later he was more conflicted than ever but knew he needed to get answers from Grace. Ada confirmed you had never been alone with Grace, never even went to the kitchen. Then he spoke to Polly who also had never seen you leave Ada's side. Now Polly was beginning to demand he find out if they had been wrong all along, if her niece had been sacrificed for familiy unity. Michael had been chipping away at her beliefs for awhile now and this seemed to confirm it.

That night, Tommy sat Grace down, determined to find out the truth. After a lot of obfuscation and denial it all came out. She'd been feeling guilty for some time now whenever she saw how heartbroken and torn her husband was, but she was petrified he'd love his son less than his sister, and with her standing in the family being only strong because of Tommy's love for her and Charlie, she panicked and in that panic had thought if she got y/n sent away, Charlie and by extension herself, would always be his top priority.

This saddened him greatly for a multitude of reasons. Her lack of faith in him even though he'd never been the betrayer in their relationship, his poor choices, his cruelty to you, the loss of that bond. It all hurt.

The next day, before heading out on business he demanded a family meeting be held. He made Grace come with him and confess all. She did, because deep down she felt awful that she'd ruined the life of a sweet girl that had never been anything but kind to her. She'd seen the loss of spark in your eyes and couldn't deny any longer how horrible her behavior was. Maybe this could be fixed. At least your relationship with your family, especially Tommy. He missed you deeply and maybe the memories of all the years he'd loved and taken care of you could combat the time he'd spent alienating and breaking your heart.

The family was horrified but not shocked. Deeply disappointed in Tommy and themselves they made a plan to begin making it up to you. Tomorrow, after the gala, they'd all individually apologize and set about making things right. Work was cut short so they could all get ready, but at least tonight they'd be knd to you and start treating you like the beloved little sister you'd always been.

Tommy and Grace rode in silence to the gala. Grace didn't know how to bridge the gap and Tommy was lost in thought. Before they got out he turned to her and said "After you apologize to y/n, we can begin fixing us. You're Charlie's mother and I still love you, but you broke my trust and cost me someone precious. So right now, let's just focus on righting the wrongs we both have done." Grace agreed sadly, knowing it would be a long time before she had her husband back, but accepting this as the consequences for her bad decisions.

For you the night was going great! Everyone was suddenly friendly, and even Tommy had a warmth in his eyes at you that you hadn't seen in a long time. Grace had made a point of complimenting you and suddenly everyone wanted to talk to you. It made the night pleasant, but you weren't getting your hopes up. You'd built walls and they weren't coming down because suddenly people treated you like you were family again. You stuck around Ada and Finn.

While everyone had been having epiphanies and making plans to repair relationships today, you'd been doing some thinking of your own. Mostly thinking about how different your life might have looked had you had parents. They maybe would have loved you unconditionally. Maybe your relationship with your brothers, their wives, your aunt would have been better if they hadn't also had to help raise you. For so long, you hadn't felt you were missing anything because you had brothers, a sister, an aunt, and more recently a cousin and sisters-in-law that loved you ahd made you feel protected and like you belonged. As a child you'd had multiple people to go to for love, advice and help, it never occurred to you that that could all be taken away. Even during the war, the letters you got from your brothers and the presence of Finn, Ada and Aunt Polly had always kept you from feeling lonely. Now you knew that could be taken away and now you knew loneliness. Now you felt like the orphan you were.

Tommy was walking away from some duchess when he caught your eye and motioned you over. You went over hesitantly, hoping you weren't about to be chastised for something. As you walked up to him, he was in conversation with Grace about her necklace. Hoping to slip past them without being seen as everyone was moving into the banquet hall to eat, you suddenly heard someone yell out "For Angel!" with a gun in their hand. At once time slowed down and sped up and all you could think of was little Charlie losing his parents and becoming like you. Not even realizing you were moving, suddenly there was a sharp pain in your stomach and you were falling into another person.

Everything became chaos. Tommy was horror stricken as he held his baby sister's head in his lap while Grace was putting pressure on the wound. He yelled for someone to call an ambulance and kept trying to get your attention, because you were still breathing but staring at the ceiling like you could see someone there.

"Please, y/n, please look at me, stay with me, don't leave me" he begged, running a hand soothingly through your hair as tears streamed down his cheeks, all the while remembering years of time spent together, how you would climb into his bed after the war and just lay beside him when he'd have nightmares, grounding him and reminding him he was home, safe and warm, not in a tunnel, no enemy shovels around.

Grace had one hand putting pressure on your wound, the other holding your hand while she cried as well. She was horrified at what her behavior stole from you, while you had literally saved her life. Thinking back on the sweet little girl back when she was a barmaid, asking her to sing because her voice was "beautiful" Soon she was nudged roughly out of the way by John who took over putting pressure on your wound, tears streaming down his cheeks. His thoughts on the girl he used to throw in the air when she was little, her always trusting he'd catch her.

Arthur was beating the man who had fired the bullet, he couldn't make himself stop. All he could see was you in his arms as a baby, your finger wrapped in his and your eyes looking at him so trusting, and how much he'd let you down by not going against Tommy.

Polly was on the phone getting an ambulance, begging them to hurry, trying to keep herself calm as she remembered all the times when you were little and would hold out your arms, confident you'd get picked up and cuddled, she could almost feel the warmth of your head on her shoulder.

Ada was holding Finn, praying silently for her sister, most recently at an age where she was fun to shop with, try on clothes together, the girl who would confide in her because she trusted Ada's judgement and knew she was safe to be herself with her.

Michael stood at the door waiting for the ambulance, doing his best not to cry, thinking of his cousin who, even feeling alone and rejected by almost everyone, would listen as he spoke about his girlfriend, and who would joke around with him while doing homework.

Esme and Linda stood by Grace, quietly crying, both thinking of how welcoming and sweet you'd been when they were introduced to the family. Esme knowing no one and yet you immediately treated her like a sister, helping with the kids and softening some of Polly's harshness during the London expansion. Linda wishing she'd gotten to know you better, but remembering how you'd hugged her when she and Arthur got married and said how you knew she'd make him happy and help him find peace.

Regret and sorrow ran so powerfully through the large ballroom it felt like they were a physical presence.

#shelby sister #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #ada shelby x reader #polly grey #Michael grey

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swagmaster20007 · 3 months ago

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ENA DREAM BBQ THEORY/INTERPRETATION!

SPOILERS FOR DREAM BBQ

my interpretation of dream bbq is mostly focused on the bathroom/genie storyline, and explores themes of sin, religion and guilt. in dream bbq there's a theme of ena being unforgiven, yet faithful, we don't know where her faith comes from and what it is focused on but she makes references in her dialogue to god, ALOT. this is interesting in contrast to how she is treated throughout the game, most of the insults aimed at her are focused more on who she is rather than what she did. which is something i want to bring up in a later blog hehe, i have many theories about her sins. ena seems to have faith in her work, at least in my opinion and theory, she constantly blesses people for their business, her persona is literally a bad cop good cop type salesperson/worker and she is shown to have a talent for tricking people with her sales tactics. she reminds a friend of mine specifically of a missionary. which i agree with, she seems to force her beliefs surrounding work onto others, no matter the consequences. this is often also seen in her inner dialogue when you inspect things, very first corridor you find yourself in, with closed shops is interactable and all ena will say is "every good business should be open all hours" as well as "it's much better when it's working" her relationship to work and her faith in it however is much more strained when you actually pay attention to some of her meanie sides statements. "you kidding!? i hate this stupid job!" or "regrettably, i am very hard working-" she is referred to as an over worker by other characters and npcs within the game, and is proven to do anything possible to get a job done. (proven by the fact she literally destroys the lonely door's realm by turning off the smoke) now to the bathroom bits, what's the deal with the bathroom? in my head the bathroom has always had a dual metaphor (one metaphor for two things) and those would be bathroom means break from work, skipping, overworking and stress or bathroom means clearing yourself of sin, purity, and repenting two VERY different meanings but i'll try to explain both in the case of the first scenario, it's pretty obvious, as soon as ena enters the lonely door and tells froggy she'll find the genie, her speech is distorted to say bathroom, resulting in froggy telling her she may go, however, not to use the bathroom to skip work, "i know that trick!" this is further supported by froggy constantly misunderstanding ena. if she's skipping work or not, froggy wouldn't know, and as soon as he points out that she's partying mid work in the purge event route, she breaks down. i feel like this interpretation is more focused on her not wanting to be perceived as someone who skips work, even if she tries her hardest to get the job done, she will always be perceived as someone who won't do their best. the second scenario is also pretty obvious, less so, but definetly not a reach, the bathroom is seen as a place of purity, clearing yourself of a sin, in this case. possibly vomit, something you subjected yourself to but that you shall repent for. which is hinted at when you reach the bathroom, and ena states that she hates herself shortly before barfing. not only is this interesting because ena is unforgiven! but also because apparently everyone in the uncanny streets is reaching for this bathroom, to clear their sins, to repent and "have the truth revealed" to them, ena and a different character (that i'll mention in a theory post) are both the only ones who are completely unforgiven as stated by theodora. a few other details that support this religious take on the bathroom, is that the bathroom stalls upon reaching it, are built like confessional booths, lined up next to eachother, whispers filling the area, of perhaps the past people who had repented in this very room.

#ena #joel g #ena dream bbq #dream bbq #dream bbq ena #theory #analysis #ena theory #ena dbbq #dream bbq analysis #worker ena #ena theodora #ena fandom

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gureumz · 2 years ago

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stained glass windows

rating: explicit

member: jungwon

notes: fem!reader, stepcest, dubcon, religious corruption, baby trapping (?), unholy use of scripture (sorry god), dom!jungwon, slight angst, mentions of death, step brother!jungwon, breeding, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jay has a cameo appearance lol

a/n: so this is an amalgamation of everything everyone requested for jungwon,,,reciting bible verses during sex? i got you. stepcest? no problem. baby trapping (this is 100% what i want and yes my wish is my command)? you bet. religious corruption? hell yeah. something super filthy and kinky? say no more. enjoy, hoes! love ya mwa (the bible verse here is 1 Corinthians 10:13 if you were curious)

sundays are your happy days.

a pretty dress, the stained glass windows, hushed chatter among the churchgoers—these were all the things you waited for at the end of the week.

your mother had always been proud of how involved you are in your faith, showering you with loving words before going to bed when you were little, calling you 'hers and God's favorite angel'. you'd smile and feel a sense of giddiness. God's favorite angel. can you believe it? you made sure to wear that as a badge of honor.

and then you grew up, went to a bigger school, met people who are different from you. even those who you knew were like you, devoted and obedient to their parents and God, seemed to have strayed down the path of parties, drinks, and the unthinkable. that is to say, premarital sex.

you never understood the appeal of it all. your faith and God were enough. you didn't need to participate in such acts to feel anything. you felt Him in every waking moment.

until there came a time when you were convinced He was gone altogether.

until sundays stopped becoming your happy days. every single day was void of any happiness.

your father passed suddenly, leaving you and your mother to fend for yourselves. you watched your mother grieve, grieved on your own, alone in your room. you went to school and saw the excitement in your peers' eyes, talking about a party here and buying drinks there.

you nearly caved. anything to take your mind off your dad.

but this was when your mother spent nearly every day at the church, despite it being mostly empty every day other than sundays. without anything better to do, you tagged along. and you started to feel Him again.

you knew God returned for real when your mother became friendly with a newcomer at church. a businessman who recently moved to your town, towing his son along.

mr. yang, as you later learned. he had a son.

jungwon.

jungwon wore an easy smile, deep dimples appearing every time he did. he shook your hand with a hesitant grip, palms smooth and soft. he had eyes that seemed to sparkle.

seasons changed, months grew into years, and your mother and mr. yang got married.

you saw the life return to your mother's face, easing her shoulders back, smoothing out the creases in her weathered face.

sundays became your happy days again, now that mr. yang and jungwon were in your lives.

---

jungwon is the poster child for the perfect sibling. or, at least that's what you think.

it's been a couple of years since your parents' wedding, and jungwon was nothing short of accommodating. he was kind, always letting you have first picks at whatever food your parents prepared, and offered to do things for you.

granted, it wasn't always like this. the two of you skirted around each other the first few weeks, both former only children, suddenly dealt with the fact that they had a sibling exactly their age. there was even a period of time when jungwon would bolt at the sight of you. though, you tried to not take this to heart.

but after all has been said and done, the two of you fell into a routine, becoming friends of some sort. eternal housemates.

"hurry up. this will be the second week we're late because you couldn't decide what dress to wear."

you turn, spotting jungwon poking his head through the door.

"sorry," you reply bashfully. "these people don't see me on weekdays anymore since i'm off at campus, so you can't really blame me for wanting to make an entrance on the one day they do see me."

jungwon quirks an eyebrow.

"since when did you care what they think?" jungwon questions, stepping fully into your room. he's wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and crisp black pants.

you note that the watch he has on today makes him look particularly handsome.

you merely shrug. "i don't know. everyone at college dresses so nice and i thought i'd make an effort, too."

jungwon snorts. "everyone at college is a try-hard. it's a small-town liberal arts institution."

"hey, you're a student there, too," you point out, crossing your arms at jungwon.

you watch as he surveys your outfit, eyes slowly making your way down your body. you swallow, suddenly aware of how tight the yellow sundress feels. the fabric seems to dig at your armpits uncomfortably, and the hem is too short and—

"you look good," jungwon says, eyes meeting yours.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

"well, if you say so. i trust your word," you say, smoothing down your skirt.

you feel jungwon approach, circling an arm around your waist, ushering you towards the door.

"i am your brother. i think i'd know what would look good on you," jungwon points out with a wink.

---

the service goes by without a hitch. you participated as you always did, offered your prayers as you usually do. you thanked Him for another successful week of classes but also asking for you to ace your upcoming exams. it was all routine.

until your mother pulled you along, chirping excitedly about a new family that had moved to town and joined the church.

the parks.

a father, a mother, and their son who's a business major at some big-shot university a few towns over.

"i'm jay," the son said to you, reaching his hand towards you as his family introduced themselves to yours. you shook hands and you couldn't help the sudden heat that flooded your face and chest.

your hand still tingles with where he held on, even now on the car ride home

"that jay boy sure is cute," your mother says from the passenger seat. you turn to her, eyebrows raised.

"seems like he has a good head on his shoulders," your stepfather agrees. he looks at you through the rearview mirror.

"the kind of guy girls wanna marry."

you see your mother twist in her seat to give you a knowing look. you roll your eyes but the familiar warmth takes over your entire body again.

"i mean, i don't know. we just met him and his family," you point out, trying not to stutter. you turn to jungwon for backup but your brother has his back turned to you, his face angled toward the window.

"right, jungwon?" you try nonetheless.

"huh?" comes his clueless response. he looks at you and his face is crumpled in a frown. you're taken slightly aback.

before you can say anything, your mother speaks up.

"why don't you try and befriend him, jungwon? they said they only live on the next street over," your mother offers, unaware at how deep jungwon's frown has gotten in the seconds she said that sentence.

"i don't know," jungwon mumbles. "i can try, i guess."

you watch as jungwon turns back to the window, his hand balling into a fist on his lap. you decide not to pry, leaning your own head against the window beside you, watching the little houses in your neighborhood speed by.

---

you urge yourself to stop picking at your fingernails. but you can't help it, either. standing outside your brother's door, you're not sure what awaits you on the other side.

taking a deep breath, you decide to just get it over with. you're certain it's nothing. you're just concerned and you want to see how jungwon's doing.

you knock softly three times, waiting to hear jungwon's voice. after a few seconds, you hear a muffled, 'come in!'.

you push the door open a bit, taking a peek inside jungwon's room. he's sprawled on his bed, his phone in his hands as he scrolls through his screen. his eyes shift to you and he sits up.

"what's up?" jungwon asks as you let yourself in. you don't say anything until you're seated beside him on his bed.

"i didn't want to risk your wrath, so i wasn't sure if i should bring this up with you...," you begin, teeth worrying your lower lip.

jungwon raises a brow. "i don't know what you're talking about. but other than that, you know i can never get upset with you, right?"

you continue to bite down on your lip, unsure of what to say next.

"but you were upset today," you say after a few seconds. "in the car?"

jungwon's face morphs into mild recognition. he nods, finally understanding what you mean.

"oh, that," jungwon deadpans. "it's nothing."

"come on, you can tell me anything, remember?" you urge, pulling your legs up on jungwon's bed before crossing them. jungwon glances down as you do so but quickly averts his eyes back to your face.

"it's nothing, i swear. it's stupid and thinking back on it, it just seems like such a dumb thing to be mad about," jungwon explains, shifting closer to you.

you take his hand and you squeeze as jungwon threads his fingers through the gaps between yours.

your mother often remarked how the two of you seemed more like twins than regular siblings. mirror images of each other. the perfect balance. looking at jungwon now, you see what she meant.

"nothing you say would be stupid to me," you reply, voice soft as your thumb runs over the skin of jungwon's hand.

something flashes across jungwon's face and his eyes seem to trail over every part of you. your skin prickles as he stops right at your chest, pajama top showing the very tops of your breasts.

"i didn't like the way that jay guy was looking at you," jungwon finally admits, gaze returning to your face.

you look at jungwon quizzically. "what? how was he looking at me?"

"like he was undressing you with his eyes," jungwon complains. "he was practically flirting with you."

you laugh incredulously. "no, he wasn't. he said two words to me, wonie."

jungwon shakes his head. "i'm a man, too. i know how our brains and eyes work."

you stop for a second to ponder on jungwon's words. you can't deny the intensity of how jay seemed to be looking at you earlier and the way he held your hand so tight.

"so?" you retaliate. "he's cute. i don't mind."

you see jungwon's jaw clench, the muscles spasming under his skin. his lips press into a thin line and he pulls his hand back from your grasp.

"guys like that will only take advantage of you, _______," jungwon says, voice slow and deliberate.

your forehead creases. "how are you so sure?"

jungwon stares at you for a few moments. he reaches his hand out, cupping one side of your face in his palm. you gulp, your heart jumping at the contact.

"i just know. you trust me, right? i'm your brother, after all."

you nod.

your hand comes up to cover his that's on your face and the room seems to still. the steady hum of the ac fades away, the cicadas outside vanish, and the thumping of your own heart amplifies. jungwon is looking you square in the eye and you can't help but cower under his gaze.

just as jungwon makes a move to lean closer, a loud knock and your mother's voice rips the moment away.

"dinner's ready! come eat!"

jungwon pulls his hand back and you scramble off his bed. you hurriedly cross the room, flinging jungwon's bedroom door open and stepping out, not sparing another glance behind you.

---

you toss and turn that night.

your face still tingles from where jungwon touched you. your mind is reeling with so many thoughts, your imagination seemingly going into each and every unexplored direction.

you and jungwon grew close during the years you spent together since your parents got married. it was like becoming friends. you had to learn things about each other, know what makes the other tick. the two of you never shied away from showing who you truly are. you'd be living under the same roof for the most part, so what's the point in hiding, right?

and jungwon never hid his affection for you. brotherly hugs, encouraging pats on the back, kisses on your forehead. he told yu over and over again how happy he was that you were his sister. that you were the best sister.

and you never hid how much you needed jungwon, either. he taught you how to get home on the bus from college on the weekends. he helped you with any handiwork you required in your room. he gave you the ins and outs of the college cliques and clubs.

jungwon always told you he loves you. you always reached out to jungwon. neither was a secret.

so, what's making you so nervous?

before you can answer yourself, you hear the hinges of your door squeak as it opens. in the dim light of your room, you see a figure step through the doorway, startling you slightly.

"sorry, it's me," jungwon whispers. "i couldn't sleep."

you feel your heart quicken once more as you sit up, watching jungwon make his way to your bed. he plops down on the mattress and looks at you.

"mind if i crash here for a while?" jungwon asks quietly.

jungwon does this on some nights, reasoning the bouts of insomnia as he snuggles up to your side. half of the time he talks, telling you stories of what he did during the day, and the other half he spends holding you to his chest, fingers drawing patterns on your back.

on rare occasions, he asks you to turn away, pressing your back to his front. he sometimes rocks against you gently and whispers how much he loves you in your ear. you feel strange when he does this. but you never complain.

"sure," you reply, scooting to one side of the bed. jungwon moves to lay beside you, pulling the covers over him.

wordlessly, his hands find your hips, tugging you close. you let him, your own arms circling around jungwon's torso. he's warm and smells like fresh laundry. you don't hide the way you inhale his scent.

you stay like that for a few minutes and you almost think that jungwon has fallen asleep. but after a while, he pulls back slightly to look at you.

you meet his eyes, sharp shadows cast across jungwon's face from your night lamp situated on the other side of your room.

"stay away from jay," jungwon says. your mouth falls open in mild surprise.

"why?" you ask. jungwon sighs, cradling your face once more in his hand.

"he doesn't deserve you," jungwon responds, voice hardened with something you can't quite put your finger on.

jungwon's looking down at you and even in the darkened state of your room, you can see the seriousness in his expression. he's clearly still upset from earlier.

"but mom and dad seem to like him," you reason with a pout. jungwon lets out a 'tsk' grasping your face tighter.

you let out a whimper. jungwon was never this heavy-handed with you.

"but i don't like him," jungwon insists. "you need someone who knows you, who can do things for you, who loves you more than anything."

jungwon pushes you onto your back, his leg swinging over to plant his knee on your other side. he grabs at your wrists and presses them down, trapping you as he hovers over you, his face inches away from yours.

"you need me."

you gasp, unable to comprehend the words that had just left jungwon's mouth. you're given no time to work it out in your head because jungwon is kissing you, pressing his lips to yours. you protest, pushing against jungwon but he's too strong for you to fight back properly. he has you pinned down and there's nothing you can do.

"w-what are you doing?" you say as jungwon pulls away for a second. instead of answering, jungwon busies himself with your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin. you squirm and whine but jungwon doesn't let up.

"i love you," jungwon whispers in your ear.

you shiver.

"you love me, too, right?" jungwon questions as he looks at you. you blink away tears that have gathered in your eyes.

you're just so confused. what is he doing? what is happening?

"answer me, angel," jungwon urges gently. he leans down to kiss away at the tears streaming down the side of your face.

"i do," you return weakly.

"no no," jungwon tuts. "say it properly."

you sniffle as you feel more tears fill your eyes.

"i love you."

jungwon seems satisfied because he kisses you again, tongue running over the seam of your lips. you've never kissed anyone before and it feels so foreign, having jungwon's tongue licking into your mouth. but you follow what he does, parting your lips and moving your tongue with his.

jungwon groans, one of his hands letting go of your wrist to grab at your waist instead. he presses you to him and you feel something stiff against your thigh.

"you make me so hard, angel," jungwon groans. he grinds against your leg and you watch as his expression crumples into pleasure.

"t-this is wrong," you sob. "we're not supposed to do this."

and you do feel conflicted with it all. everything you've learned in church, everything you've read through His word, it all says that this is bad. that you should only lay with the man you love, the man you married.

oh, but you do love jungwon. you've loved him since the day you met him.

"do you want to stop?" jungwon asks, stilling above you. you continue to cry, your legs squeezing together as you feel wet heat pool in your underwear.

"God will forgive us, angel girl," jungwon coos, a hand dipping beneath your pajama top.

you mewl as you feel jungwon squeeze at one of your boobs.

"He knows how much we love each other, so he'll forgive us, don't you worry," jungwon reassures as he rolls your nipple between his fingers.

"then we'll make it up to Him with a cute little wedding at a faraway chapel," jungwon continues, his other hand tugging down your shorts and underwear.

you're breathing heavily now, head spinning as your whole body heats up. the ache between your legs grows stronger.

"then we'll have babies," jungwon says. "so many babies we'll be filling up our own pew at church."

you gasp as you feel jungwon's fingers press against your core, working on the nub that you've ever really encountered twice or thrice before, too scared to be condemned to hell if you continued to touch yourself.

"what if we have a baby now, huh?" jungwon asks, placing a chaste kiss to your temple. "make you a mommy so no one can take you from me."

you shake your head, initially appalled at his words, but the thought of carrying jungwon's child, it stirs something in you.

"no?" jungwon asks, voice hinting with playfulness. "you don't want it?"

you look up at jungwon, struggling to find the words to say. you want it but your conscience screams at you to refuse.

"i want it," you finally answer. "want to give you a baby."

"fuck," jungwon curses as the words leave your mouth. he hurriedly discards his shorts, eyes seemingly ablaze.

"yeah? gonna give your brother a baby?" jungwon taunts, fingers circling at your core again. you moan wantonly, a million different feelings coursing through your body.

jungwon pokes in one finger through your entrance and you nearly scream, unprepared for the strange sensation.

"sshhh," jungwon says, pressing down on your mouth with one hand. he adds a second finger in slowly and your back arches off the bed.

"look at you," jungwon says with a grin. "your body responds so well to me, huh, angel?"

you cry into jungwon's palm as you feel him pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them inside every time he pushes in. you feel a tightness in your belly and more wetness pooling out of you. your body jolts with every movement of jungwon's fingers.

"shit, i can't take this anymore," jungwon mutters, pulling his fingers out. you whine, hips involuntarily pushing up as they search for friction.

"i got you," jungwon says, taking his hand off your face. the room is filled with your soft sobs, a mix of the lingering guilt and the newfound pleasure.

jungwon strokes his shaft a few times and you watch with bated breath as he aligns himself between your legs. you feel him push against you and you start to cry even harder, fear of what's to come gripping you like no other.

jungwon pushes halfway in and any scream threatening to break free from your lips is muted by jungwon pressing his mouth to yours. you cry and cry and cry as jungwon keeps pushing in, burying himself to the hilt seconds later.

he stills, pulling away to let you breathe. you hiccup, the stretch between your legs equal parts painful and filling in the best way possible.

"s-so big," you sob. "c-can feel you in my belly."

jungwon groans, his hip snapping up involuntarily. you whine, biting down hard on your lip.

"yeah? can you feel me here?" jungwon asks, a large hand pressing down on your lower abdomen. he starts to move then, slowly pulling out then thrusting back in.

"yes!" you gasp. "yes, yes, it's so deep."

"God, angel, you sound so beautiful when you're being fucked," jungwon says, speeding up.

"recite to me your favorite bible verse," jungwon commands. you barely hear him with the way he's moving his hips against yours.

"w-what?" you mumble in a daze.

jungwon takes hold of your face, forcing you to look directly at him.

"your favorite bible verse, angel girl. let me hear your pretty voice."

you rack your brain for it. you should know it by heart, have it seared into your consciousness. but the way jungwon is taking you right at this moment wipes away nearly all thoughts of scripture.

"no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man," you begin, trying to keep your voice steady as jungwon scrutinizes you, fingers still digging into your cheeks.

"God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability," you continue. jungwon smirks, nodding, urging you to go on.

you're about to speak when you feel jungwon's thumb press down on your sensitive nub. you cry out, the added sensation muddling your brain even further.

"go on," jungwon orders.

"b-but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to e-ndure it," you finish with a shaky breath.

"good job, angel," jungwon says, letting go of your face and leaning in to kiss you briefly on your forehead.

your head falls back against your pillow, your vision blurring as all you can feel is jungwon moving in and out of you. all you can think of is jungwon. all you ever need, right at this moment, is jungwon.

your brother. the man you love. the man you want to have all your babies with.

"so tight, so fucking tight," jungwon babbles, pushing your legs up so he can get a better angle. your lower half rises off the bed and jungwon fucks into you even harder, snapping his hips against your insides with a force that has you gripping onto your sheets for dear life.

jungwon continues on like this, sweat dripping down his forehead. any pain is gone now, replaced with a want, a need for some sort of release.

you don't know what compels you to talk, but you can't help the next words that come out of your mouth.

"p-please, jungwon. feels so good. w-wanna be a mommy, want it so bad. n-need it!"

jungwon seems to let himself go then, hips moving erratically, not caring if you're bent nearly in half, his grip on your thighs painful as his fingernails poke at your skin. it feels good, you think, your insides clenching and tingling at the sight of jungwon getting nearly animalistic with you.

it almost fills you with joy. knowing that he's only ever like this with you.

a few moments later, jungwon's hips start to stutter.

"gonna give you my babies, angel girl. i'm so close, so close to making you a mommy—fuck!"

the words from jungwon stop any coherent thought in your brain as a sort of euphoria takes over you, your whole body tightening up. jungwon completely stills, pressing himself in deeper. a warm feeling spreads from where he's sheathed inside you.

the two of you remain unmoving, panting as your minds catch up with your bodies. jungwon pulls out moments later, replacing his cock with his fingers. you protest weakly as jungwon moves his fingers shallowly in and out of you.

"i came so much, angel," jungwon says with a chuckle. he pulls his fingers out and shows you his fingers, coated with his milky white release.

"your belly's gonna be all swollen up in nine months, for sure," jungwon muses, pushing his fingers against your mouth. you part your lips hesitantly, licking at the saltiness.

"good girl," jungwon praises, pulling his hand away before kissing you sweetly.

"i love you," jungwon mumbles against your lips.

you hold his face steady, thumbs rubbing at his cheeks. you meld your lips together, the elation finally catching up to you.

there are no stained glass windows in your room, your body bare and void of pretty dresses, and the night is still and quiet.

it's still sunday. it's still your happy day.

"i love you, too," you say as you and jungwon share a smile.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #jungwon smut #jungwon scenarios #w: jungwon

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ruby-red-inky-blue · 22 days ago

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ngl I am a little annoyed with how the good faith response to criticism from fans who liked the show is often "i get why you didn't like that but canon is what you make it! You can pick and choose!"

like, I get it, and I plan to, and if nothing else it's a much more mature response than I've got from other people, but it really doesn't address my two biggest issue with the show at all:

Yes, I can ignore that it ever happened to characters that I like, but the show is still out there with all those odd misogynist and racist messages in the writing and casting unadressed. And at best, it is reinforcing a bunch of industry stereotypes, and it's not unique in that of course - but with the way the show is being lauded rn, I'm genuinely worried that a lot of people are seeing harmful things they believe to be true given the stamp of "revolutionary and progressive, actually". People are falling for the virtue signalling, and it's not a push in a good direction. To be fair, I've often got this comment when I was criticising narrative decisions that were at least somewhat removed from those issues... but idk stuff like the changed backstory and the removal of Bodhi and Jyn from the larger narrative is still part of that problem.

There was already so much potential in the backstories that were implied in the movie and the supplemental publications (which were canon for half a decade, so anyone wanting to argue with me about how "Gilroy didn't have to use your headcanons, grow up" can shut up right away, thank you). And not only is it a huge bummer that we didn't see any of that explored, and not only is it extremely annoying that Andor and Rogue One do not add up to a satisfying whole - it also means we will now never get any of these stories outside of fandom. Had Andor not been made, or been deemed (correctly) too expensive and disappeared into a drawer, Disney would not have resisted the urge to make more money off these characters forever. And if a show had been deemed too expensive, or not buzzy enough - we might have had a novel, or even a series of novels, and the characters might have shown up in other franchises. And yeah, we can still have these stories in fandom, and that's great... but this means that these stories will now only ever reach the people already searching for the crumbs. Stories like the one known former Separatist on the Rebellion's side, stories of the one good guy who was thoroughly broken down into doing whatever people told him to for that same, much less unambiguously good Rebellion? The one story of a soldier and a cog in the machine for whom breaking away from a bad system was actually hard, and not just an easy choice he made in the opening act of his first movie? That will not be a part of Star Wars in the public eye - maybe never. And much as I love and support fanworks (which almost always offer something better than the canon stuff if you know where to look!), I think it's legitimate to be angry at the decisions that were made here. Star Wars already told every conceivable version of a Han Solo-esque storyline. There was so much narrative and political interest that was lost here.

No criticism of the show is attacking the community any individual person built connecting to someone else over how they liked it. And the show had its moments, and a lot of people worked very hard on it (and others wouldn't even watch a two-hour film to prepare).

But I still think at the end of it all, it's legitimate to say that between what was canon before and could have been turned into a show or a novel and what we got in the end, I think we got a very short end of the stick. And "you can just ignore it" doesn't help with that. It's about the iffy messages and the lost potential, it's not a lack of ability to compartmentalise when I write my next fic or read someone else's. I'm not complaining because I think I have to delete all my fics and bookmarks because they're not canon anymore. Hell, I've been ignoring a canon ending to write fic for years - why stop now?

I'm complaining because there was so much potential here, and instead we got a show that is so murky in its supposed "progressive revolution" that right-wing pundits and mainstream progressive media alike try to claim it for their own views, with a story that is far less satisfying and cohesive than the one we already had.

#fandom #andor critical

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doodle-pops · 5 months ago

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Curufin With A Smitten Reader Would Include…

A/N: Wanted to do a little surprise today and treat all the Curufin lovers to a nice piece about him. Also based on a conversation I had over here ➽ ASK. And, Valentine’s Day was just two days ago, so it made sense for him to have so much attention lol

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• Curufin was used to admiration—whether it was for his craft, his skill in battle, or simply being the son of Fëanor, there was never a shortage of people who either respected or feared him. But you? You were something else entirely. You didn’t just admire him—you practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and he was absolutely thriving off it.

• It started off amusing to him. He caught you watching him a little too intently while he worked on some intricate piece of metalwork, and when he looked up, instead of feigning indifference like a normal person, you just sighed dreamily and muttered, “Your hands are wasted on mere steel.” He had to pause his work entirely, torn between laughter and sheer delight at the audacity of it.

• “Oh? And what, pray tell, should they be doing instead?” He leaned forward slightly, intrigued, half expecting you to get embarrassed. You didn’t. You simply said, “Holding me.” The arrogance. The sheer confidence. He decided right then and there that he was keeping you.

• If he ever needed an ego boost (not that he would ever admit to such a thing), he would simply go to you. It was guaranteed that whatever he was doing, you would find it spectacular. Sharpening a blade? “You make it look so elegant.” Giving orders? “Your voice could command the stars.” Even just existing? “I swear the air is sweeter when you’re near.” It didn’t matter if he was being ruthless or sarcastic—your response was always adoration, and he drank it in like fine wine.

• He loved seeing how effortlessly you prioritised him in everything. If he was speaking, you were listening, hanging on every word like it was a revelation from Eru himself. If he had an idea, you supported it without question, often embellishing it with some flowery praise about his brilliance. And if anyone dared speak against him in your presence? Oh, you would defend him with the fervour of a zealot.

• “You’re ridiculous,” he told you once, watching as you argued on his behalf with a stubborn Noldo who dared question his methods. You turned to him, all righteous fury, and said, “No, they are ridiculous for doubting you.” He stared at you for a moment, then simply pulled you close and kissed you, because what else could he do?

• He found it endlessly entertaining how you always managed to spin his worst traits into something admirable. He was ruthless? No, he was determined. He was sharp-tongued? No, he was eloquent. He was arrogant? No, he simply knew his worth. You once told him, with complete sincerity, “You’re not arrogant—you’re just burdened with accuracy.” He defined had to sit down after that one.

• You became something of a menace to his brothers as well. Celegorm was used to people flattering Curufin, but he wasn’t used to it being this relentless. One time, after a particularly long string of your praises, Celegorm just groaned and said, “Do you even hear yourself? You sound like a lovesick bard.” Without missing a beat, you replied, “At least bards have taste.”

• You were, to put it simply, a devoted enabler. If Curufin had an idea, no matter how outrageous, you supported it wholeheartedly. If he wanted to make an impossibly intricate piece of jewellery, you encouraged him. If he suggested an elaborate strategy, you were already making plans. Even when he was scheming, you didn’t bat an eye.

• “Are you truly alright with this?” he asked once, watching you as he detailed some cunning plan. Most people would have hesitated, but you just smiled and said, “I trust you.” There was something almost terrifying about your blind faith in him, but he wasn’t about to complain.

• You had a habit of watching him like he was the most fascinating thing in Arda. Whether he was crafting, strategising, or just standing there, you always looked at him as if he personally hung the stars in the sky. It was a gaze he never quite got used to, but he never wanted it to stop.

• “What are you staring at?” he asked once, half-amused, half-smug, as he caught you watching him work. You just sighed and said, “Perfection.” He nearly ruined the piece he was working on.

• It didn’t matter how long you were together—your admiration for him never wavered. Even when he was at his worst, when others turned away in fear or doubt, you remained steadfast. If anything, you admired him even more when he was sharp and unyielding.

• “You should be careful,” someone warned you once. “Curufin is not an easy man.” You just smiled and said, “Then it’s a good thing I don’t want easy.” When Curufin heard about it later, he just shook his head and muttered, “You are utterly impossible.” But the way he kissed you after said otherwise.

• Your devotion was so unwavering that even Fëanor, for all his pride, had to take note. He once watched as you waxed poetry about Curufin’s skill and said dryly, “Are you certain you are not one of mine?” Curufin, to his credit, simply smirked and pulled you closer. “Too late, father,” he said. “They’re mine.”

• Even in battle, you were a force of nature, not because you were the strongest, but because you fought like someone with something to prove. If Curufin was on the battlefield, you were by his side, defending him with a passion that even his own kin couldn’t match. It was both impressive and slightly alarming.

• “You fight like a mad thing,” he told you once, after you had quite literally thrown yourself into danger for him. You just grinned and said, “Well, if I die, I’ll haunt you, so you’re stuck with me either way.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or sigh.

• You had a habit of collecting things he made, as if they were holy relics. If he so much as discarded a half-finished design, you were there, scooping it up like it was a lost Silmaril. “You do realise that’s flawed, don’t you?” he said once, watching you examine a ring he had deemed unworthy. You just smiled and said, “Everything you touch is gold to me.” He scoffed, but he didn’t take it away from you.

• Your presence became something he relied on more than he cared to admit. For all his confidence, for all his cunning, there was something grounding about having you there, endlessly loyal, endlessly devoted. Others might have called you a fool for it, but he knew better. He knew that kind of loyalty was rare, and he would never take it for granted.

• “You’re dangerous,” he murmured one night, watching as you curled up beside him, looking at him as if he was your entire world. You smiled and said, “Only for you.” And for once, he had no clever reply—only the quiet, undeniable realisation that he had never been more adored in his life.

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#curufin headcanon #curufin x reader #curufin imagine #curufin scenario #curufin x you #curufin x y/n #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion headcanons #silmarillion fluff #middle earth x reader #middle earth imagine #middle earth headcanon #middle earth fluff #x reader insert #x reader fluff #house of feanor #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

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honeybunnyale · 1 month ago

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Mona Lisa l J.M.

w.c.: 1.7k

t.w.: Fluff, very cute, some angst, reader mentions family members who have passed away, Joel is a sweetheart (on the inside), Reader is around the same age as Joel, no age gap, Construction Joel making a comeback in the apocalypse.

a/n: Please read warnings for all of my works before reading. 18+ only!

Summary: Joel fixes your shed. He was starting to be likeable. (Part of the What Could Have Been Series)

You sigh, kicking the door in frustration. You've been standing there for a few minutes, just staring with your hands on your hips like a lunatic.

You turn at the muted huff from behind. Joel was rubbing his side in slight pain, staring down at Ellie, now eagerly nodding in your direction. They’ve been staying with you for three days now. An awfully quiet bunch. One snappier than the other.

You turn away when he catches you looking, his glare is directed towards you. At least, that's all you could see with the sun's rays shining straight into your cornea. His footsteps make your shoulders tense. You still weren't used to there being people in your home and you really shouldn't have taken a liking to the girl.

“You need help?”

You narrowed your eyes, you were tired, and he was always so cold. You mostly deal with it, but right now you just didn't want to. Your silence was telling; he was attempting to be friendly and return the favor. As Ellie encourages him to do.

“I know a thing… or two,” he says at your lack of response.

He scratches the back of his head, analyzing the decaying wood, wondering what he could salvage from it. Your shed was a mess, and with the rain coming in a couple of weeks, it was most likely going to fall apart completely.

"Do you now?" you ask sarcastically.

You wince when he frowns, stepping back slightly to stand and gaze at the mess of wood planks with blotchy black mold. The shed was slanted and small, a mess, Joel mumbled. He turns to you, crossing his arms.

He was suddenly invested, he wanted to get to work on the wood planks, put some gloves on and do something with his hands.

"Didn't even put a stain on it, no nothin'?"

You shake your head. He walks up to one of the walls, shaking it and kneeling, you hiss when he starts to tilt the whole thing even more, your hands coming up and in front of you in worry that it would collapse.

He claps his hands of dirt, standing. You look at him incredulously.

"Frame’s all loose. You didn't even start it right, it's a miracle it still stands."

You snort.

"Tell that to my grandpa, he made it for my granny."

You give him a pointed look. He narrows his eyes.

"It was the thought that counted."

And now it was covered in dirt and even more dirt, your grandmother's gardening tools stuffed in an actual tool shed by the stalls.

Her seeds were finally planted by the back of the house.

"You should just let it be, no use trying to fix it," he quips.

Your face fell, you looked devastated. It was one of the last things you had of your family. You refused to even look at it these past few years, too busy with other things that needed to be fixed or too sad to even take a glance.

The one year you said to yourself that you would finally actually take a look at the damn thing, and it was too late.

You hum, crossing your arms and staring at the ground.

"'Spose so."

God, you looked so disheartened. It tugged at something deep in his soul. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words, his face was contorting awkwardly at seeing you in distress.

You walked away, head down, tail between your legs. He can tell you don't give up easily, when you want something, you make sure you get it or do it yourself. This time it didn't really work out and with him telling you it wouldn't, it just broke down what little faith you had.

He inhales sharply, his hands at his hips as he stares right up at the blue sky.

Poor woman, all by herself, with only a house, some cattle and a rifle to her name. God knows where you get your supplies from, but it seemed as if you wanted to be alone.

And here he comes, making you feel bad.

He turns, whistles so hard his own ears ring. Ellie turns sharply, she was in the chicken coop, chasing hens, and marveling at the eggs in their small cubicles.

Jogging over to him, he can tell she was smiling from what seemed like a mile away, so wide her teeth glowed in the sun.

She wanted to talk about chickens, already starting her rambling about how she wanted to learn to hold them like you do. He stops her with a hand.

"Slow down. Breathe," he smiles. He places his hand on her shoulder.

"You are going to help me."

She looks between him and the shed and mumbles a quiet 'fuck'.

…

His back was aching; his hands were raw. He curses himself. All for a woman he met a week ago.

He wipes the sweat from his brow and continues on, huffing and puffing every now and then as if you had asked him personally to work on that damn shed.

You looked him up and down when he walked up to the porch, drenched in sweat, grasping the glass of lemonade you had offered hours ago, and gulping it down.

"Miller," you greet.

His eyes flicker up at you, not having noticed that you were sitting on the porch swing. He bows his head, his hands floating atop it and flicking as if he were tipping a hat to you.

"Howdy, ma'am."

He places the glass down, licking his lips and nodding his head again before he leaves.

You guffaw as he turns his back to you, shaking your head lightly and smiling. You lose yourself in that smile, you just couldn't help to let your lips pull upwards. A sheepish smile, ones that make your cheeks burn from the rush of blood and that make your chest all warm.

You've been peeking at him, arching your brow whenever he sat down for dinner, which you mandated, because manners. He always smelled of humidity, wood, sweat.

You'd stare from across the table, chewing your food and he'd do the same and of course Ellie. Oh, Ellie. She tried to distract you from his work as best she could, asking you this or that, even if you're sure she already knew half of the things you asked, you still explained them to her.

So when he suddenly knocks on the post of your porch, smelling less like sweat and more like wood, you already knew.

You began to tear up when he nodded his head in the direction of it, your eyes focusing on the sky above, now greying and filling up with clouds.

Then you're in front of it and you look in. Your boots clunk against the wooden floor as you survey the walls. He was standing behind you, watching as you brought your hands to your cheeks and mouth. You exhale heavily.

"I used some of the wood you had in the basement, didn't see you use any anyway..."

You hum, your nose stinging and a lump developing in your throat. He was overcome with the urge to hold you, to put an arm around your shoulder. It was obvious that you were reminiscing, your eyes were welling with tears as you relived memories.

And he would never know what you were thinking of at that moment. He clears his throat.

"Redid the frames, tried to keep the same layout..."

You step out, your brows slightly furrowed, and your hands wound together over your mouth. He follows you out the door.

You look up at him. Puppy dog eyes. He starts to think he did something wrong.

"It's gonna last. If you don’t like it I can-“

His lungs seem to compress harshly, your body colliding into his so quickly he couldn't even prepare himself for the way your arms wound around his back.

He stands there, feeling your head against his chest, your fingers squeezing the fabric of his shirt until it twisted in your fist. The warmth of your breath against him, the way he could feel you breathe in a mix of stuttered chuckles and whines as if you wanted to sob.

You lean away, the warmth receding like a cool rush of ice water down his body. He should have hugged you back, he thought when seeing the light reflect across your skin, brightening your eyes and making them shine.

"Thank you," you say, wiping under your eyes, smiling so brightly he almost shivered.

"Yeah," he husks out, like an idiot, as if he were enamored. You glance up at him, chuckling slightly from his dazed look.

As if.

He coughs a lung, his fist at his mouth, struggling from the way he swallowed his saliva through the wrong pipe. You pat his back, worriedly waiting for him to recover.

"No problem, the least I could do," he says finally, his voice high in embarrassment.

He wanted you to hug him again, your hands were fiddling in front of you, your feet shuffling as if you were standing next to a boy you liked but couldn't confess to because you were shy.

But instead of leaning in when you started to, your hands unclasping themselves and slightly raising in his direction, he steps back. He nods respectfully and makes his way inside the house.

Your hands clasp together again, your lips purse then lift in a small smile. You face the shed. Glancing behind him he could see you wipe a stray tear, looking just like a figure in those old landscape paintings that used to be protected by glass in museums.

Your dress flowed, you extended your hand to the sign with your family name carved into it, not neatly, but neat enough. Familiar to you, charming in its story.

Grandma always wanted a shed, grandpa always wanted to make one.

The sign was one of the pieces that somehow didn’t rot, the one piece that’s original.

Your eyes downturned, lips lilted up. A single separation of cloud, letting some orange glow onto the property, brightens the small shed.

He couldn’t stop staring at your face, it was a perfect mix of longing and sodden, a remembrance of good and of your contentment at seeing the shed brand new, just how it was when you were ten years old.

You looked like a picture, color overlaying color, the shed, the tree line, the sky, you.

He chuckled.

You smiled like Mona Lisa; he thought.

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

Thank you for reading! I know this series isn't very sex packed, and I feel like that's why people aren't really reading it as much as my other Joel works. I don't care! I love tender, complicated loving too. And I personally think my best writing comes from my works that don't have explicit sex in em. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated as always!

-Alejandra 💋 🐇

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller #ale's fics <3

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bumblesimagines · 1 year ago

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i made breakfast.

let me just grab my things and i'll get out of here.

Love Quinn

i made breakfast.

let me just grab my things and i'll get out of here.

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader

The scent of pancakes drifting through the air filled your nose and reminded your stomach that you'd skipped dinner the night before, a gnawing feeling immediately blossoming in your stomach as your hazy, sleep-riddled mind began envisioning breakfast. Your mouth watered and you sighed, forcing your heavy eyes to open. You must've left a window open-

You blinked and blinked again and blinked one last time for good measure. You stared at the large, wall-length windows that gave a view of a neighborhood straight out of a magazine, a view you certainly never got when you looked out your shabby bedroom window and out onto the bustling, noisy streets of LA. You scrambled up, feeling the soft velvety sheets press against your palms as you took in the bedroom bigger than your apartment.

"Jesus..." You whispered, running your hand over the covers that definitely were worth more than your rent. Everything about the bed felt cozy. The size of it, the soft mattress your body sunk into, the cool pillows that kept coaxing you into slumber, the warm covers. You'd be half tempted to go back to sleep if it weren't for the worry that replaced the hunger in your stomach. Who owned the bed to begin with? Certainly not any of your friends or exes, unless one of them secretly had a fuckton of money they kept hidden away for unknown reasons.

The sleepy fog lifted from your brain, clearing away sluggish thoughts and any remaining exhaustion lingering in your body.

With a groan, you lowered the phone from your ear and pressed the bright red button, shaking your head as you made your way back to your friends. "No luck," You sighed, shoving the phone in your back pocket and picking up the dripping beer bottle. A chorus of sighs and quiet mutters followed, your friends exchanging looks and eye rolls. "Delilah's probably standing in front of a board full of pictures and little notes right now with her phone on Do Not Disturb."

"Or," Tessa began with a giggle, half her body leaning into her girlfriend's side. "She's totally getting railed by that cop. What was his name? Devin?"

"David." George corrected her with a snicker, earning a glare from you. He raised his hands in mock surrender, more snickers escaping him. "What? We all know he's been trying to get with her since you two broke up. At least he had the decency to wait, (Y/N)."

Swallowing down the beer, you shook your head. "I don't want to hear about Delilah or David or her ditching us for whatever reason. She always does this." You sighed, pressing your lips against the rim of the bottle and dropping your eyes onto the bar. A shimmer of disappointment swam with the bitterness, almost morphing into regret before Tessa leaned over, her vanilla-scented perfume invading your nostrils.

"Well," She purred. "There's a pretty brunette at the end of the bar whose been eyeing you since you walked in here. She's real pretty. I bet a little chat, some drinks here and there, and you'll forget all about Delilah by the end of the night, hm? Why don't you give it a shot?" You turned your head and sure enough, right at the end of the bar sat a vaguely familiar brunette with her eyes locked on you.

Oh, God, the pretty brunette. You squeezed your eyes shut and wracked your name for a name. Hope? Faith? Verity? Something along those lines, one of those names hippies or real rich people gave their nightmare children. You remembered her eyes, vibrant and an almost grayish blue that sparkled brightly with pure glee under the dim bar lighting. Her hair was brown, dark at the roots but lightened toward the end, her let-down strands framing her face just right. She'd been so eager to talk to you, to even listen. The second you sat beside her on that barstool, her attention never left you for more than a second. Damn. A pretty good score, if you had to be honest.

"Hey, you're awake! Good morning." A sweet voice greeted you, and there she was, standing in the doorway. She smiled widely, the bracelet wrapped around her wrist jingling with each step she took into the room. Even it looked expensive.

"Morning," You cleared your throat and eyed your neatly folded clothes on the chair by the vanity mirror. Better save your ego then take a sugar-coated blow. "Let me just grab my things and I'll get out of here." You told her, getting up from the far too comfortable bed and making a beeline for your clothes. You grabbed your shirt, and then a hand enveloped yours.

"It's alright, (Y/N). No worries, I promise." She smiled, her fingers curling around yours. "Please, use the bathroom if you need to. I put a spare toothbrush in there for you. You could take one of the robes and shower if you feel like it. I made breakfast for us. I wasn't sure what you'd like so I made pancakes with scrambled eggs and bacon."

"Oh, uhm..." You could certainly get used to her lifestyle. "That's... kind of you."

"Of course." She placed her other hand on your shoulder and leaned in, pressing her lips against your cheek. "I don't know if you remember but I'm Love. Love Quinn."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #you netflix #netflix you #you netflix x reader #you x reader #you netflix x male reader #you netflix x female reader #you netflix x gender neutral reader #love quinn #love quinn x reader #love quinn x male reader #love quinn x female reader #love quinn x gender neutral reader

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workingbynyx · 1 year ago

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heey, saw that you were open for requests so I would like to ask for a romcom jason todd x reader where the reader is flirty and has a crush on Red Hood, but has no idea that he is Jason Todd (their regular at the cafe they own) so he gets kinda flustered everytime he sees the reader when he is going to get coffee

(hope you can understand this, english is not my first language)

Beautiful Stranger — Jason Todd x GN!Reader

↷ summary — after a faithful encounter with red hood one night ago, you quickly developed a crush on the masked vigilante. but, would you believe if the cute regular at your coffee shop was him? ˎˊ˗

↷ pairing — jason todd x gn!reader ˎˊ˗

↷ genre — romance, comedy, a bunch of fluff ˎˊ˗

↷ warning/s — none! other than a few curse words, use of y/n and possible grammar errors ˎˊ˗

↷ a/n — hi anon! dw i LOVEEEE that request sm, i hope you have fun reading this as much as i had writing it ^^ i might've switched it up a bit in the process so i'm so sorry for that 😭 i also figured i'd use the wayne family adventures version of jason for this one since it kinda fits the whole theme of this fic hihi and he turned into such a simp in this so it might be ooc at some point help, enjoy reading! ˎˊ˗

"what the hell are you doing here walkin' around late at night?" the masked man said in between short breaths after taking down a robber that's been following you since you closed down the café for tonight. you were lucky enough to have 'the' red hood on patrol and save you from a potential robbery. the thought of him guiding, if not stalking, you and jumping on the thug as soon as he's about to make a move somehow made your heart skip at the act of service...if its even counted with them now laying on the ground unconscious.

what you didn't know is this man was jason, the regular you'd have come in around 9 to 10 am to have his morning coffee and sit around the shop until lunch. you always observed the guy to be somewhat mysterious but endearing at the same time, he'd always ask for the same coffee and pastry combo over and over again, not bothering to change his order. he became quite an easy customer to remember at some point, other than the fact that he had white streaked hair which made him attractive and memorable to you. in fact, everytime he came in all you had to do was ask "the usual?" and jason'll nod along then go back to his corner, mouthing a silent 'thank you' when you deliver his treat and maybe even strike up a conversation if he's in the mood.

but right now, jason is simply the infamous masked red vigilante who just kicked some ass for your own sake.

"my apartment is this way, how was i supposed to know robbers lurked around here" you replied in return, tucking in one of your hands inside the pocket of your coat as you froze in front of him. jason began approaching you and stopped when you came face to face, the height difference between the two of you forced you to tilt your head upwards— the all-white lens of his helmet staring down at you. "watch the news, its not safe out here. take the route to your right next time, and bring at least a pepper spray with you" if only his mask didn't have a built in voice changer you would've known seconds ago it's him.

you were stunned for a moment as he listed down things that'd probably go straight out your other ear. "y'know, for someone i just met you're oddly protective over me" you finally spoke, a hint of mischief underlying your tone. that's when you begun wondering who is it under that costume. is he cute? is he what you're imagining him to be like?

jason, on the other hand, blinked a couple times out of confusion if it weren't for his get up covering his entire features. "what?" he said. "nothing, it's just...i didn't think a vigilante would care so much for a civilian like me" you answered, an innocent smile creeping up your lips like an idiot in love. "its my job. obviously i should look out for the people of Gotham, shouldn't i?" he crossed his arms across his chest, covering the red insignia of his bulletproof suit.

"obviously, i guess i didn't have the special treatment like i thought" you practically said with a slight pout forming when you look up to him, going silent for a moment. "do you really tell all the people you save to bring pepper spray or just me? i wanna know if i got the special advisory from you at least" you added as a tease, earning a slight frustrated groan from jason afterwards. "i don't have time for this—" "well I do" you bravely chimed in without missing a beat. "i got all night even"

the sigh jason had let out was almost comical, he took a step backward when it's really just him starting to get flustered by his barista seemingly flirting with his other identity, who would've thought you'd find him attractive? not jason that's for sure. "get home safe, take the route i told you if you wanna keep your wallet stocked" then he noticed the small cut on your cheekbone, it must've been from the pocket knife the thug had.

he briefly pointed at it, "you got something" you lifted your fingers to search for it only to be met with a slight sting when you did, a small amount of blood staining your index finger. you hissed at the feeling, squinting your eye when it lingered for a bit. "calm down, its not that serious" jason said. "some alcohol and bandaid should do the trick" and you took his advice, you certainly wouldn't allow yourself to show up at work with a random cut to your face.

"y'know why don't you help and patch me up at this point? i could use some assistance" and you still had the nerve to decide and toy around with him for a bit...to see how far the both of you are willing to go. to be fair, you just wanted to know who was it under that mask— this could potentially lead to it if you're lucky. "what are you, 8?" jason replied. "no but i'm surely a 10" you winked playfully, the corner of your lip turning into a smirk as you watched his body language intently.

"jesus christ.." jason muttered under his breath, starting to walk away from this situation he's stuck in. "aw c'mon! that was a smooth line admit it! oh okay— well, thank you red..man! i'll see you soon...i think" you yelled from the same position you're in, seeing his tall frame go farther in the distance. jason didn't say nothing in return, but he kept a secret smile under his mask as he disappeared from sight.

its been a couple weeks since your last encounter with red hood, you took most of his suggestions that night and started going the safer route when you had to be on the closing shift. since then, you've been at the lower risk of getting robbed again thanks to him and his unforgettable presence. but it's not only you who hasn't stopped thinking about that night, jason was still trying to relive the moment of his barista basically flirting with him. he figured you would've known it's him within seconds...guess not.

it didn't bother him, it's the thought of your reaction to him being behind the helmet is what. jason wouldn't blame you though, imagine how shocking it would be to find out your regular is a vigilante at night. it's like betrayal but in a different form. he usually doesn't care about revealing his identity to the people he knows, but when it came to you it's different. he's conscious for the first time, he was overthinking things and coming up with plans how to avoid it from happening in many ways possible so he stopped visiting the shop for a while. it's becoming weird, you two weren't even close to begin with— so why was he stressing so much about it?

while jason spent most of his nights in Gotham thinking about you, you started noticing his frequent visits slowly turned little to nothing at all. you found yourself always anticipating the sound of the bell when the doors open to each customer only to be met with disappointment when he didn't come through. and today seems to be the same, you kept glancing over the glass doors hoping you'd see a tall, slightly scary and muscular man enter...until he finally did.

you feel your heart skip a beat seeing him after a while, the same feeling you got a couple nights ago but you didn't mind. you quickly went over the cashier, mentally ready to take his order with a smile. "hey! welcome back, i didn't see you in here for a while" you greeted when he stopped right at the counter. jason wore a red hoodie and a brown leather jacket layering over it, he must've liked wearing that a lot. "oh...uh yeah," he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck, trying to come up with something. "i got caught up in work. i didn't have the time to stop buy for coffee" that's a lie. "but i'm here now" is he really?

"oh, you must've been really busy then?" you added, listening to his reason. "definitely yeah," lies once again. jason sucked in a breath, looking away to get a glimpse of the menu like he really is getting anything else other than an americano and cookies. "got anything new f'me?" he asked which took you by surprise. "you're not getting the usual anymore?" you said. "eh well, it gets old after a while" he says.

"that's fair, well we got new cake flavors if you wanna try them out. what would you like?" you then tap a few things into the register to input his order to which he asks for a latte and dark chocolate cake. you tell him his total and he pays for it, giving him his change and receipt. jason mouths a thank you and quickly goes to sit on one of the chairs by the window where you can still see him right in the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at your direction while you made his coffee which is strange since he never did that.

jason on the other hand seems to be more fidgety, he figured he'd tell you the truth today after you get off of work but it's easier said than done as he's starting to think it was a bad idea. his frequent visits gave him the advantage to eventually learn about your schedule and today happens to be an early leave. he mentally hyped himself up, hunched over the chair with his elbows resting on both his thighs while he waited.

a few minutes passed by and you eventually finished making everything, putting the small plate and fork on a plate along with his drink as you brought it over to his table. you slightly crouched down to carefully place the plate in front of him followed by the drink and fork, jason waited til you were done and looked up to you. he notices the cut still there on the side of your cheek, seemingly in the healing process now. he cleared his throat and nudged his head toward you. "you alright? you got a slit right there" he started.

"hm? oh this. it's uh, it's nothing. i almost got mugged a few nights ago and had to hold up a pretty decent fight" you explained, clutching the tray near to your chest. "oh? well, did you win at least?" jason laid back into the chair, still looking up towards you to see if you'll mention about the 'hero' that saved you. "i guess in some way yeah, someone showed up and kicked some ass within seconds" you said, a smile slowly forming at the thought of red hood creeping your mind once again. "it's a shame i didn't get his name though, he seems like a nice guy"

"...who did you think it was?" jason started, a lump in his throat started forming the more the conversation went on. he waited for an answer, desperate to know what you think and what could be the reason why you did all that during that night. "i have no clue, but he had a red helmet and a pretty sick suit! i'm not a fan of vigilante but that dude's doing it for me. i wanted to ask him out but he looks out of it, he might've been tired so i don't blame him" a slight blush creeped into jason's cheek when he felt it heat up at what you said, he found it amusing that you were practically talking about him while having no idea at the same time.

"that's..that's great" he nodded along, clearing his throat once more as he focused on the food in front of him then back to you. "i uh, i also wanted to ask" your ears perked up at this, pursing your lips into a thin smile. "what time are you...getting off?" he finally says even if he already knew the answer. you were taken back by this, your brows raising at the sudden question. "oh uhm, probably in an hour or so. i have an early leave today so it might be even less than that" you started. "why'd you ask?"

"i..." his voice trailed off, he doesn't seem to get the words out without it sounding like he's asking you out— well, technically he is. "nothing, just curious that's all" he gave a stiff smile as he reached for his fork. "oh okay well, i'll be at the counter if you need me" you said with a smile as you walked away before one of your managers yell at you again for making unneccessary small talk.

jason waited until you went back before releasing a disappointed sigh at himself, he sets down the fork and covered his face with both of his hands— feeling embarrassed at how stupid he sounds asking the question and completely fumbling it over. 'you just had to fuck it up, did you?' he thought to himself. he's never gonna get this over with.

a few minutes passed by and you see jason finishing up his snack, the small plate of cake now left with smudges of frosting and small bits of crumbs and the cup of coffee almost emptied out. you were relieved that he liked the new menu item after months of eating the same thing, it might be the start of something new for him you think. although his question from earlier never left your mind, you tried searching for answers and it all came down to him possibly asking you out.

but why would he? he's way out of your league and he probably knows it, why would he lower his standards to a café worker when he could have anyone out there to go on dates with. was he messing with you or is he trying to give signals? it could explain why he always visited your café and not the famous ones in the city but still, you didn't wanna assume. maybe he's just trying to be friends.

you didn't even realize that jason was already standing on the other side of the counter while you were lost in your thoughts doing the dishes, you heard him call out to you which snapped you out of it. you turn to look behind and see him there with a sheepish smile. you quickly closed the faucet and wiped your hands off as you went up to him, "hey! what's up?"

"nothing, i just wanted to say i'm gonna get going. i still have a few things to catch up on back home" "oh that's fine! goodluck with whatever you're up to then" you cheered him on aa he slightly chuckled, the sound of hearing his laughter for the first time did something to you and you didn't know what it was that made it so attractive. "thanks, i'll see you around" jason finally says with a thin smile.

you waved goodbye and went back to what you're doing as you're trying to shake off the lingering feeling that you just felt, "and y/n" you heard him call out to you again. "make good use of the spray, that's a special advisory" jason said proudly, making his way out of the shop before you could even process what he said

"thank you! I'll ma— wait..." then it finally registered. "WHAT?!"

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x f!reader #jason todd x m!reader #dceu #✎ ─ nyx fics !#red hood x gn!reader #red hood x f!reader #red hood x m!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x y/n

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meanbossart · 1 year ago

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its funny looking between his former fixation (orin) and current one (astarion) and noticing he has a very obvious 'type'. what made him so taken with orin, though? what did he like about her? did he not have any initial misgivings? was he ever concerned she might turn on him?

B)c Please know how happy it made me to finally have someone spell this out lmao. It's absolutely true, at least within the dynamic that DU drow shared with each of them; there are a lot of parallels to be found between Orin and Astarion.

The tough part of this question however, is that I have a very difficult time pinning Orin down. She's easily the most elusive character out of the Chosen, and while I understand this Is likely a consequence of being underwritten, I also see a certain charm in a character who's lack of development is part of their tragedy - whose story is very much about not being allowed much individuality of their own, and having no resolution. I think this is a space worth playing in.

I couldn't tell you what the hell Orin likes, what she was like besides blood-thirsty and deranged. I can barely fathom her sitting down to have a conversation with someone. Think about it - she was raised from childhood in the Bhaal temple, both her parent's were faithful servants and she was essentially groomed from birth to be either Bhaal's Chosen, the Dark Urge's consort, or a sacrificial lamb. Nobody had ANYTHING to gain from allowing her to develop any humanity.

Of course, this doesn't mean she doesn't have any, deep inside. We see glimpses of it in fairly difficult-to-get dialogue regarding her origins during act 3. My very vague take on Orin is that she was a determined and persistent person who learned to make her circumstances work for her as best as she could, who had a strong sense of her boundaries but a horrifically difficult time differentiating between negative emotions - this is why I personally don't even know whether she """"led DU drow on""" our of malice or self-preservation. Perhaps she didn't know either - I think whenever Orin felt sadness, discomfort, anger or even happiness or love, she found a way to turn it into bloodlust and sadism, every time.

And it's in part this elusiveness that would have attracted DU drow. What did Astarion have to do to get DU drow to pursue him? He had to feign disinterest, he had to pull away - the fact that Orin never allowed DU drow to get close enough to truly know her plays a significant part in how unhealthy his attachment for her became.

That said, this was a long game - he did become infatuated pretty much from the moment he saw her when they were both teenagers. This is a much simpler concept to understand - he was profoundly emotionally inept and neglected, and she was probably the prettiest thing he ever laid eyes on, not to mention the only other person in the temple close to him in age.

Truth is, they did have a lot in common on the very basis of having been so thoroughly stripped of their humanities, but It was a closeness born entirely from circumstance - the implied vulnerability in the type of life they shared together, even if they never spoke about feelings or shared what normal people would qualify as a "sweet" moment. They didn't really use their words, and when they did, they were like daggers - twisted murder sibling banter.

But when they had to work together it was very different. They played off each each other like match and friction, like two fitted cogs turning a wheel. There must have been nothing that swelled DU drow's heart more than when they killed together, perhaps even more than when Orin hurt him. He loved seeing her in her element and yearned for nothing more but to be let into the joy she found in it.

He Never had any misgivings. He always thought she would come around (to him) eventually. He was completely and entirely blind to how much her resentment towards him grew throughout the years, how he lost a sister through wanting a lover.

#ask #du drow lore #orin the red #bg3 spoilers #durge/orin

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ancha-aus · 2 months ago

Text

NewAgeAU Drabble - A Glance into the Future

I am back And this time with a little story that i hid from view >:D mostly because i didn't want to add even MORE to your to do list spot lmao.

Something that @spotaus and I spoke very lightly about so Spot! I think even YOU didn't expect this little plothook!

How about... We let Epic have some fun :3

Just because...

XTale Frisk is Fennel (Age 11). XTale Chara is Carnation (age 11). XTale Asriel is technically Zeus (age 12) , also called Zu-zu by the two slightly younger humans :D And Cross, sadly, is still called Ten (age 14).

*--------------------------------*

Epic watches the street as the couple sits at the little table in the sun. The guy pulls out the chair for the woman and she happily sits down as he pushes in the chair.

Nice moves dude.

Sadly it will be ruined in about twenty minutes because of rain.

The rain will soak her white shirt and make her bra see through. The guy will be too late with mentioning it and she will curse him out for being a creep and weirdo instead of just warning her when he first saw it!

She will start to walk away and the guy will call out to her, she will turn around to see what he saw to say.

Only for a cart to raise past and splash the newly formed mud puddle right behind her. Splashing her back with the mud and covering her completely.

She will not agree to a third date.

Epic could try and walk over and make up a story. How the future whispers secrets that it wishes to share...

Epic closes his other socket and concentrates. He lets the visions come to his mind and frowns. Mmh... Seems like there is no real way to make them listen to him. And even if he does they will not believe the incoming rain. Which means he may speak the truth about the rain and a lie in saying they will see this through together. Neither of them will be thinking about his talk as soon as the rain starts.

Epic opens his normal socket as he grabs one of the from the small plate. These are some good cookies, and honestly the only reason he is in Ritten. According to his visions these are the best cookies he can get at the moment. He knows that in the future there will be even better options but the location on that is still unclear.

The best cookies he will be able to get will be these red velvet cookies with different types of chocolate... From what he has seen in his vision will will either be in Sanctuary or in Orchard. Sanctuary will be much quicker as there will just be a shop he thinks. But Orchard it will be harder seeing as he needs to be friends with someone? He thinks... He will need to be let into the castle itself?

Though it does make sense for the king there to have the best cook...

Epic frowns and concentrates but he still does not get a clear vision on the King of Orchard. It is always hard to concentrate there. Too many different people all influencing the streams of time. Making it a muddy mess to look into.

It had seemed like such a fun idea. Picking the future as his area of focus back in school. To learn how to fully utilise his own faith and destiny!

At least he wasn't stuck seeing stuff in differeny colours and hues like Color. Epic thinks his homie is now just being a jack-of-all-trades. Color may not be crazy good at one thing but with the fact his specialty is pretty much adaptation it means he can always make stuff work.

Epic is just clairvoyant. Which works fine, seeing as he can make a living and he still has his specialty.

Even if he gave up the use of one of his eyes and can't perceive depth anymore. As soon as he opens his socket he will see all the most likely futures a person has. Which really isn't that bad, unless he is in a city and busy area which he almost always is.

Best to keep it closed unless he is with a client.

He takes another bite when he hears running steps. He focuses for a moment and sees it before him. Two children. He thinks both are human looking. Laughing together as they run through the streets. They will see his shop and walk over.

Epic frowns. He doesn't usually get visions this clear. It is almost as if there is no way they will not visit him. Strange but that is fun! He hasn't been able to do many readings for kids. Something about parents not trusting him to not lie.

And hey! Sure! Maybe he will lie to them but only to keep him excited and happy! And he always make sure it is something that motivates them and is safe to them!

He finishes his bite as he hears their voices. As soon as he does his vision gains their voices as well.

"Quick! or Zu-zu will catch us!"

Laughter "I know I know!"

They are laughing when they turn the corner and both stop and both the kids tilt their heads as they see him.

Epic just raises his hand in a wave "Sup little dudes." and he takes another bite of his almost finished cookie.

The two share a look before glancing at the sign outside his shop. Epic takes the time to look them over. One is wearing the mark of the King of Ritten. The X mark. They are wearing black leather and Epic can spot a sword on their back. Their hair is white and a little taller than the other. The second human's hair is black and their eyes are squinted shut slightly. The two don't seem blood related but Epic knows better than to assume or judge as you never know.

The human with black hair frowns at him "Future readings?"

Epic shrugs as he finished chewing "Yup!" he grins "So waht can I help you two with?"

The human with white hair snorts as they cross their arms "Shouldn't you know already? With future vision and stuff?" The other nods and mimicks the first one's pose.

Epic hums as he looks at his cookie. It only takes a second, maybe even less time, to search the direct future. What if he asks for their names? They will both roll their eyes but give them to him. The white haired person is Carnation and the black haired person is Fennel.

Epic hums "I mean. I could assume you and Fennel want a reading. But it is rude to assume, isn't it Carnation?" and he grins as he finishes his cookie.

Carnation looks shocked but Fennel isn't as impressed "Please. Everyone knows me thanks to mom and dad or Zu-zu. And Carn's name is also well known as the lands, and probably the worlds! youngest fighter and warrior!" and they huff. Clearly very proud of Carnation and protective.

Carnation looks amused and nods "Good point Fennel."

Epic hums "Ah, yes, sceptics. They appear younger and younger every year."

Fennel huffs "Just because we are kids doesn't mean we are naive!"

Epic raises a brow as he tilts his skull "I never said or implied that." he shrugs as he leans back in his chair "Want a reading?" and grins.

Fennel and Carnation share a look and Epic lets his mind check the different streams. Fennel always seems hesitant in all of them. But if it is doubt in him or if Fennel is scared that something he doens't want to get out gets seen... it is unsure.

Carnation however? They want a reading. Each stream he looks at Carnation will hint at just wanting to check it out. In some of them they say they just want to get a good laugh while in others they offer that if Epic really sees the future that Epic may be a good asset.

He searches the different streams and finds his line. He leans back and puts his feet on top of his desk "It is alright. Pick whatever. I already knoww the answer anyway." and he waits.

Fennel and Carnation share a look. Fennel huffs as they cross their arms "We need to go. this guy is clearly a scam."

Carnation eyes his store "I mean... what is the harm? If we leave this area we will get in sight of Zeus again..."

Fennel frowns and glares at the main road. Clearly not done with their fun yet.

Epic grins as he leans on a hand "It is fine. One reading it only 5 gold a person." he taps his sign.

The two humans share a look and Fennel gives Carnation a nod. Carnation grins but Fennel grabs their arm. Fennel looks at him challenging "We are both there for each others's reading." it is a demand more than anything.

Epic snorts "Sure!" he gets up and turns his little card from 'Free' to 'Busy' he waves them over as he disappears into his little tent.

There is barely enough room for everything. There is his spot, a small table, and two other cushions for his guests to sit on. It is good that he had a feeling this morning to get two cushions out. Even if that means he needs to climb over his table to get his own spot.

He just turns around and sits on top of his cushion when the two step fully inside over just watching.

Epic grins as he waves them in. He puts his elbows on his letting table as he leans on his hands. He opens his normally shut socket and he knows his purple eye is bright as always "Welcome. To the window to your future."

Fennel and Carnation share another look before slowly walking in and taking their seats.

Epic grins and focusses on Fennel "You first I assume?"

Fennel frowns. Epic knows they would want Fennel to go first. Epic figures they are now wondering if Epic just had a lucky guess, or if he truly knew knew.

Fennel nods as they look challenging "So waht will you use? A crystal ball? A set of cards? Dice?" and they wait. the mockery is obvious in their voice.

Epic grins and just taps his skull and socket "Nah, just good old magic." and he focusses in on Fennel.

The time streams from Carnation are being a small interferance and makes the water abit muddier but all in all it is still rather clear to him.

The problem is that when looking into the future you don't always see things that matter. He may not even see soemthing nice and only see bad things. What he sees depends fully on what is most likely to happen, not on what is the most interesting.

It is why he generally lies in these sessions. It doesn't matter if what he sells is true. If it is boring people are going to be mad about it. instead he always searches the future for hints on what the person wants or likes and works with that.

Unless you are an asshole. Than he searches the streams for the line that most annoys them and then gives them directions that way.

Seeing someone directly makes it easier, having someone nearby makes the them in that stream also show up. Instead of just seeing Fennel with people shaped shapes he can now see Carnation clearly if they appear in Fennel's streams.

He is happy that searching the streams doesn't take much time. For him he sees a thousant options but for everyone around him it has been a second at most.

He doesn't spot anything truly interesting. Seems like he is guestimating in that case. He focusses on random streams and travels them down further than he usually would.

Mmh... Curious... But alright... He is very excited about... something? A second bed in his room? Mmh.

He sees a garden. Fennel is taking take of some of them. There is a table... Two glasses and more tools... Wait... Carnation is also in the garden. they are by the roses. They are wearing garden gloves which are bright red in colour.

Epic nods as he focusses back on Fennel "Seems like there is a surprise for you in the future. I saw another bed in your room. Two in total with a small dresser near it. Seems like you will soon get a roommate." Not sure if it is permanent but it will work. "Aside from that. When you are a bit older, I think when you are starting to grow taller quicker. You and Carnation both will be in the garden. You will be by the tulips taking careful care to check for weeds while Carnation will be wearing red gloves and trimming some of the rose bushes." and Epic smiles "That is all for now."

Fennel looks in shock and there is a small hope in those eyes. Seems like Epic picked the right vision to share. Fennel had looked excited about the second bed after all. Fennel the frowns as they cross their arms "That is fake. XGaster would never let Carnation join in on garden time."

Epic shrugs "I can only tell you what I see and waht the future holds. If you believe it or reach it is up to you."

Carnation looks hopeful "I mean.... Maybe... if your mom and dad get their way..."

Fennel frowns before nodding "I guess..." then they lay down the five gold and scoot a bit to the side to make more room for Carnation.

Carnation scoots over and stares at him "Go for it."

Epic nods and focusses and...

That is... weird...

The streams... all of them are very unclear. This usually only happens when someone is in mortal danger... When it isn't even clear if they will live... But there is an option they can survive and live. Epic saw them in Fennel's streams after all. And even if the water is muddy he can still focus.

It is difficult to see the images. It is like trying to see the bottom of the river when it is unclear. There is stuff in the way.

Shit he needs more time to focus.

Epic hums "Your future is unclearer than Fennel's...." Fennel rolls they eyes as Carnation just waits. Epic tilts his skull "You are in a lot of danger." just a fact.

Fennel snorts "Duh. they are a warrior. We told you that when we first met." they lean towards Carnation "I told you this was a scam."

Carnation however waits. They are watching him as they remain silent. They want something specific out of this.

Okay. If he finds what they want... he can try to focus on following streams that could lead him to a possible answer. He looks shortly into his future, mentally following the stream where he disappoints Carnation and send them away without a reading. Their voices are slightly unclear but he manages.

"I told you he was a scammer!"

"I know... it is just... I had hoped..."

Fennel will look at Carnation with a raised brow "Really? Still the wedding stuff?"

Carnation looks embarrassed "It is just! He gets it! While Nine always leaves and dismisses us Ten is nice! He is a bit dumb and slow but he doens't leave me behind or tells me I was weak even when he manages the new move quickly and I don't! I just... I figured... Once I was strong he would... you know... Know what I know..."

Fennel frowns before shrugging "Eh. Fair enough... and I think you can just marry him... It isn't as much convincing him as it is convincing XGaster or... well." Fennel grins "Convince mom and dad by that time hopefully."

Carnation grins and nods "Yeah... Yeah! you are right!"

Huh... Interest? In love? Scared for rejection?

He can work with this.

Epic looks back at Carnation "I am unsure why... but the number ten keeps coming to mind." as soon as he says it Carnation sits up straight and even Fennel looks shocked.

They train together. So it is likely they will stick together. "I think of a training room... of you and the number ten in there... It is a rather strange vision..." He grins.

Carnation stares in shock "What else?!"

Epic thinks for a moment and focusses. He sees carnation making drawings. Of themselves in a suit and another figure in a wedding dress it seems...

Epic thinks over his words before grinning a bit "It is a bit unclear... and not certain in the least... but there is an option where I see you planning wedding outfits." grins and shrugs "This was the reading. It is much more energy and time consuming to get a clearer view."

Carnation clearly does not care as they drop ten gold on the table "Five for the one you just gave me. Five for more." and they wait.

But before he can answer them the curtain draws open and there is a skeleton in white armour with small X-patterns and belts all over it. They look inside before giving a small bow "Fennel, Carnation, Your brother Zeus is looking fro you two."

Carnation looks panicked at the gold and Epic before glancing at the skeleton.

Fennel however is grinning "Ten! Quick! join us! You can get a reading!" Carnation glares at their friend as Fennel grins.

Ten blinks "Why would I need a reading? I know my patha nd future."

Fennel wiggles their eyebrows "Who knows? Maybe a small surprise in the future?"

Ten stares for a moment before nodding "If that is what you wish me to do." and he walks over as Fennel qucikly makes room for Ten to sit on their spot. Carnation sits nervously in place. Ten stares at him and waits.

Epic concentrates and his mind is FILLED with different streams flowing all at the same time! Different directions just intersecting before branching off slightly. Some faster than others.

He sees Ten standing in a forest. Many figures around him and many bright cheerful colours. He is near some figures and loks older. He is no longer wearing the white armour or the marks of Ritten. Another show of him working on the docks. Carrying crates as he goes from teh ship to a storage. He isn't wearing armour at all here, instead just easy to more in work clothes. A path where he is walking hand in hand with another figure, vaguely shaped like a skeleton, the only true obvious thing are the magical markers which shows they are from Sanctuary. Another where he is traveling with someone, again, but they are a colourful and Ten is carrying a small portrait of himself in his hands, he mutters about the other not having had to make that for him. Another route where... where... Epic is there... Epic is in this vision. He and Ten, no Cross, are laughing and walking around. They are in Sanctuary and they are going to get drinks. Another shot of Cross in a training room with four others, there is a large magical energy here. He spots Cross standing at attention, one of those rare and valuable Orachard masks on his face.

Many paths. Many streams. Epic isn't sure whihc belongs to which. They intersect and interact together. Some streams seem the same until they split.

But two things are clear.

One, none of his streams show Ritten. His paths never lead to Ritten.

Two, he is happy.

He needs something! Something to tell his... future friend. Telling him he will leave or find happiness soemwhere else will just make him stubborn. Epic can see it. Cross will feel insulted with the very idea that he would betray his father and position. That he would betray his country. No. That isn't the answer. Not to forget that Carnation is convinced he will marry Cross, which, sorry kid. Cross has zero interest in you as it is either that skeleton from Sanctuary, or with Sanctuary roots, or the single life for his bestie.

He finds it. The answer. It is at the docks... it is in a bottle between the masks in the office. It always makes some sort of appearance.

Epic looks at Cross "I see a ship in your future."

Ten tilts his skull as Carnation mutters "A mission?"

Epic keeps looking at Cross. "Large white sails. Yellow markings on dark brown planks. Black ropes. And that the very front, instead of a statue mermaid I see the statue of an angel." He grins "The ship... that is what your path will lead. The ship leads to... home." and he grins.

Cross frowns and Epic sneaks into the future. a future conversation where Fennel will ask Cross what he thinks it meant. Cross will mention that he thinks it is just that he may get lost on a mission and that the ship will be the way back to Ritten. Carnation will later tell Fennel that they are sure that ship will bring them to their honeymoon.

With time... hopefully Cross will realise the ship will lead him towards his freedom.

The three say their goodbyes and they leave.

Epic grabs the last cookie as he closes his purple eye again. His energy is low but it was well worth it.

He hopes he gets to befriend him soon. But for now? Epic will stay patient and not interfer.

he won't risk his friend escaping and finding happiness.

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ssatorussuguru · 1 month ago

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ofc!! and yes i can tell-- DC is so horrible to steph (and its female characters in general) but you genuinely write her with such care

thank you so much for the list and if it really isn' a bother, i would def appreciate one for tim as well 😊

first off i am so sorry for the delay, my school year just ended so things have been hectic!! to make up for it i added a ton of fics here i hope u enjoy <3

previous lists here! steph dick pt. 1 dick pt. 2 tim+dick

a nest torn empty \ yesteryears \ robin's don't make great roommates - all helena and tim centric!! i am a sucker for these two being siblings

not within this restless heart - Tim's sleeping schedule leaves things to be desired. Sometimes, Damian's does too. Miraculously, this doesn't cause nearly as many issues as one would think.

off-grid - In which Tim and Damian go on an impromptu camping trip.

and in that moment - Time keeps slipping away from Tim like sand. All he has are flashes of events that he can barley grab on to. Even worse his family is acting strange and he can't keep it together long enough to ask them what's going on.

the return - Red Robin 11 and 12, from Dick’s POV. Tim comes home.

a leap of faith - "Oh. Right. He’d been pushed off the building."

such trouble - "Tim’s vitals are displayed in heartbreaking clarity on the screen. They aren’t horrible, Tim thinks. “Goddamn it,” Dick mumbles."

miles and miles (in their shoes) - Tim and Damian switch bodies, the two of them realize exactly why the other does the things they do.

the fire eats fire (and the fire's in you) - Tim just happens to be a very large, fire-breathing lizard. He manages, until he doesn't.

books and pens - After the flood, there are galas. And Bruce befriends a two-year-old Tim Drake at one of them.

experimentation - Tim watches his mom get ready to go out, then takes his own turn at it.

you long for a feeling you'll never get back - In a family made of up people unused to having such a big family, sometimes you get lost in the noise. And Tim has always been taught to be the child that was seen, not heard.

way down, hadestown - In which Damian's dead and Tim has lost one too many people to accept that.

between two urns - Christmas Eve may not be the best time for a funeral, but at least Tim won't have to deal with a lot of people. His parents are dead, and he's alone, and his Uber driver didn't show. Mr. Wayne did.

detachment - Bruce just wants all his sons home for the holidays. Tim thinks something more sinister may be at work.

i'd fly far away from here - “Tim, you’re in a strange city you don’t live in, staying with a person your dad barely knows. He’s probably worried sick.”

i can (hopefully) do this all night - Or the one where their patrol night goes to shit and Tim has a really stubborn little brother that apparently wants to die again just because he's stubborn as fuck. Sucks for Damian, though, because Tim is used to doing the exact opposite of what Damian wants just to spite him. Like a good big brother.

home decor - Bruce is helping Duke remodel his bedroom, but Tim's bedroom is one good clean away from looking ready to host a new guest.

#tim drake #batman #dc #robin #red robin #fic recs #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #comics

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atopvisenyashill · 2 years ago

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Had some fun thoughts about Aegon’s sons while I was re-reading. This is the passage:

At the feast afterward, King Aenys compounded his misjudgment by granting the title Prince of Dragonstone to his presumptive heir, Prince Aegon. A hush fell over the hall at those words, for all present knew that title had hitherto belonged to Prince Maegor. At the high table, Queen Visenya rose and stalked from the hall without the king’s leave. That night she mounted Vhagar and returned to Dragonstone, and it is written that when her dragon passed before the moon, that orb turned as red as blood.

It’s kind of funny to me because Aenys is doing something normal - he’s just naming his oldest son as his heir (and also pointedly bypassing Rhaena as heir but that’s also incredibly normal behavior bc Westeros and Earth are a patriarchal hellscape).

But he always does shit like this. Every major decision Aenys makes is the one he’s “supposed” to make, almost like he’s following a script. The patriarch must have heirs, must make proper dynastic matches for his heirs, must support and defend his heir’s claim so the transition between their rules is smooth. He wants to live up to the legacies of both Aegon and Rhaenys, be decisive and strong but kind and charming as well, and he freezes right in the middle of the two into something obnoxious and indecisive.

So he takes the title “prince of dragonstone” a title created for Maegor by the lords and people and hands it to his son for funsies. He wants the titles and signals of legitimacy to belong to only him because he’s the first born so of course it belongs to him; that’s not just arrogance, that’s law. At the same time, “prince of dragonstone” was not an official title that Aegon gave Maegor as a sign of legitimacy, the way he tried to give Aenys blackfyre. See here:

Prince Maegor remained with his mother, sitting by her side when she held court. Queen Visenya and King Aegon were oft apart in those years. When he was not on a royal progress, Aegon would return to King’s Landing and the Aegonfort, whilst Visenya and her son remained on Dragonstone. For this reason, lords and commons alike began to refer to Maegor as the Prince of Dragonstone.

They call him that because he grows up there at his mother’s side instead of at his father’s with Aenys. And then not only does Aegon back down from fighting the Faith by betrothing Maegor to a Hightower, he is essentially rejecting this sign of legitimacy for Maegor by refusing to go to bat for an incestuous marriage that would make Maegor and Rhaena his heirs together. Maegor may have some symbols of legitimacy but they are not given to him by Aegon - he doesn't get Blackfyre or Balerion until after Aegon dies. He barely sees his father. He can't even give his father grandchildren. But he has this one thing, this title given to him by the lords and commoners of Dragonstone, the seat that once belonged to his father. And then Aenys takes that away. It’s his right! He’s the oldest son! Why is Visenya turning the moon weird colors when she knows her son is the younger!

But of course, her son is the younger because Visenya and Aegon couldn’t stand each other, and by the time they got around to really attempting to fuck, Visenya was already a bit old. And Visenya is the oldest, maybe the least loved wife, but the original, the first wife. It doesn’t matter; Rhaenys had a baby first, Rhaenys is the one the line now descends from. And her son can’t even leave Visenya’s son a silly little title given as a nickname, a nickname he earned for being Visenya’s son, always on Dragonstone with his mother and never at King’s Landing. But Aenys stubbornly ignores this because this is how he operates. They’re the ones not following the script!

It’s exactly what he does when it comes to Rhaena and Aegon marrying; it never occurs to him that people will be angry because he has the right. Never mind the High Septon making it clear he wouldn’t approve. Never mind it’ll piss off Visenya and Maegor, the only competent generals with dragons that he has bc his kids aren’t grown.

The storm that greeted the king’s announcement took them all by surprise, though the warning signs had been plain enough for those with the wit to read them. The Faith had condoned, or at the very least ignored, the marriage of the Conqueror and his sisters, but it was not willing to do the same for their grandchildren.

There’s soooo much going on here in why Aenys acts like this. It’s not just the general royal/noble “i have the castle and the swords i do what i want” but a very specific Targaryen “i have the dragons i do what i want” and an even more specific “i have the divine right i do what i want.”

He is Aegon the Conquerer’s first born son and he can do what he wants. It’s in the script his father followed when Aegon used The Divine Right Of Dragons to subjugate most of Westeros. He completely convinced himself that he is allowed to run roughshod over social norms, politics, religion, his own family’s feelings, because he is Aegon’s son.

And Maegor takes the exact opposite approach. He is Aegon the Conqueror’s second born son of his least favorite wife and he will always have to conquer like his father to prove he is worthy of doing what he wants.

It is in effect the same problem basically every Targaryen past Aegon has had. They see him (and Rhaenys and Visenya) just as godly as the people of Westeros do. They are all demi gods aspiring to the immortality of the Conqueror while refusing to see the bigger picture surrounding him which is that Aegon didn’t do whatever he wanted and he was miserable for large portions of his life which is why he was so effective as King! He’s an annoying bitch but he’s an annoying bitch who realized that the throne was not there to make him happy!! It is only when Aenys and Alyssa give him Rhaena, and a new family to love, that Aegon lives happily again.

Basically every Targaryen ruler misses some aspect of this. They focus on how he conquered with dragons so they use extreme force and forget how often he conceded, how smartly he chose to sort his spoils of war, and put their yes men in powerful positions only to watch those dudes get eaten alive by their post. Or they focus on the concessions, on the miracle of his negotiations, the myth making around Aegon the Dragon, and do reckless, foolish shit without a thought for consequence because They Are The Blood Of The Dragon.

The Dragon was a man and not a god! He died of a stroke! Not of dragon fire or a thunderbolt sent from the gods themselves. Ultimately, what was special was his ability to know when to fight and when to negotiate and even that wasn’t always easy for him, see: the dragon’s wroth. But every Targaryen after him believes in The Dragon, The God, and makes a claim at his godhood, even his own sons. And all of them fall short because of their belief in his godhood, even his own sons.

#valyrianscrolls #aegon the conqueror #aenys targaryen #maegor targaryen #visenya targaryen #aegon the dragon #fuck i can’t remember how i tag him #ignore the fact that i spell conqueror 3 different ways #getting on my soap box

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hibernaldream · 3 months ago

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HMV q&a - random bits and thoughts

My thoughts and what was said during the q&a under the cut (at least what I can remember. There are no spoilers for anything, it’s just a long post).

Man-bun. Thank you.

He said he was feeling great after the first two shows, and we made sure to let him know we appreciate the new material.

He still doesn’t want to talk much about Perpetua’s personality.

The atmosphere of the event felt like a pre-ritual. We’re only two dates into the tour, but the energy is spectacular. They had Ghost songs on rotation, and some of us couldn’t resist singing along to Ciriceon the escalator on the way to the stage. Then we just kept going—Faith, Rats, Dance Macabre, Lachryma (twice!), Satanized. At some point people just started holding potatoes in the air and we all cheered. We’re insane :) I came back home with new friends, bracelets and stickers. All this love and selflessness always makes me speechless.

Before the event, HMV collected questions from fans, which was such a great idea! He’s been doing a ton of press, and I was worried he’d just be asked the same stuff over and over again by the host. But instead, we got the privilege of picking his brain for 45 blissful minutes. Sadly, mine didn’t get picked, BUT in a way I got my answer anyway. I’ve always wanted to ask him about books or literary influences. One of the questions was something like: “If you had to take one record and one book to a desert island, what would they be?” Someone in the crowd shouted, “Everyone’s going to buy that book!” And he replied “yeah… better make it a good one”. He said he’s never been academic and hasn’t read much, that most of his bookish knowledge actually came from movie references. He joked that he’d probably choose a book with pictures anyway, then mentioned that one of his favourite books is a collection of photographs of the Rolling Stones. For the record, he said he’d choose Arrival by ABBA if he was going with pure joy.

There was a kid in the front row who was just a blast. Tobias would be answering a question and the kid would jump in with his own answers. Such a precious little dude. Tobias actually would get up, pass him the mic and engage with him. Certified dad moment but also certified Terzo moment! Hands down my favourite part of the evening.

Jokes were made about Tom Hardy playing him in a potential biopic. Why do we… want this?

They chose some really funny questions and he was totally game, but his answers would often turn deeper and more thoughtful. Someone asked a silly question about world domination, and he replied that he lacks both the IQ and EQ for that. Like yeah, anyone could say that—but with him, it always comes off so humble.

On collecting stuff, he said he’s not really into collecting everything from a band. Now, he has handed it to us on a plate. Of course we joked about merch. He revealed his most prized possession is a rare poster of a Sex Pistols gig in Linköping in 1978 which he got from a UK collector.

I think someone in the crowd joked that we’re like a cult. He played along and then added that while it’s great when we’re all together, we shouldn’t be co-dependent. He said he has those moments too—hyperfixating—then needing to step back and find something else. At that point my friend yelled, “It’s too late for us!”

He said he’s currently revisiting some old-school Swedish horror from the ’70s and ’80s.

He threw kisses at us at the end and we screamed “see you on Saturday!”, to which he nodded and said “yes! See you on Saturday!”<3

#the band ghost #tobias forge #q&a at hmv #I love him so much

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little-fae-hero · 5 months ago

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It's dangerous to go alone (Wip)

This is wip fic, mainly about Hyrule and his life before LU cut with Linked universe and a strange familiarity.

Words : 1835

Link had known he had messed up, he should have listened to his mother, the overprotective great fairy, at least then he would know where he was at. He had never been outside of his mothers fountain, never been past the woods that were so rich with fae energy. Now he had woken in this field, likely after being struck in the head by a monster, considering the warm liquid running down his face, with nothing more than a tree branch to defend himself.

Scared and alone, Link heard more monsters approaching and as he scanned his eyes over the environment looking for something to help him, that’s when he saw it, an entrance to a cave. So the young scared boy took a leap of faith and ran inside the cave, figuring anything that could possibly be there was better than these monsters out here.

It was somewhat bright? From what his mother had described of caves is that they were pitch black, nothing to give off any hint of light as you stumbled to stay upright and not fall into a deep pit. Yet this one was lit up with pieces of wood that burned with bright flames on the end, giving warmth through the cave. Link still moved slowly, reaching out his magic trying to see any possible enemy out there, eventually his magic grabbed onto something. A bottle filled with a red liquid, it gave off the same energy as his mom when she healed him from his small cuts and bruises. Link quickly picked up the bottle and began to drink down the liquid inside, the pain on the side of his head slowly faded as the taste of sweet berries filled his mouth. He was too focused on the sweet flavor to even notice that he might not be alone.

“Hey!” An old raspy voice said.

Despite finishing the bottle, Link found himself coughing on the last drops of the red liquid. He turned towards the source of the voice, he was like all the other people that journey to his mother’s fountain begging for wishes, human looking, two legs, two arms. This person was older, a face of wrinkles hidden under a hood, blondish strands of hair tangled with the mostly white mob on his head. Boney hands clung hard to a cane, ruins carved into the old wood, it was the only thing likely keeping the man upright.

Link dropped the bottle and began to step back as he stuttered. “I-I didn’t know, I’m sorry, I should go.”

“Wait, foolish boy. It’s dangerous to go alone, take this!” The man yelled out in a strained voice, panic clear in his tone.

Link stopped and turned to look at the man. The old man had pulled back some of his robe, allowing more of his face to be seen, especially the pleading look in his eyes. His right hand clenched to a cane that was digging into the ground to keep himself up, meanwhile the left hand held a sword, Link could tell it was hard to even hold it as the man’s hand slightly shook as he held out the sword.

Link weighed his options, the man was right, it was too dangerous to go out of the cave without anything to defend himself other than a tree branch. Another thing was the man was old, it looked as if he was barely standing up, it’s not like he could actively go after the boy. So Link, despite the fear in his heart, walked up. He held out his hands and the man gently placed the sword in them.

Link looked at the old man’s blue violet eyes before he looked back at the sword. All the other weapons the monster had always burned Link’s skin as soon as he touched the blades, but this one, it didn’t burn, he could feel a light magic underneath the blade, humming gently. Link looked up at the man who had taken a few steps back, to lean up against a rock, he switched his cane into his left hand before picking it up and swinging up, just like those monsters do with their sword….oh.

Link quickly mimicked the old man’s actions, swinging the sword in two arching slashes. The old man's face lit up with a smile before he spoke again.

“Yes, I’m sure that sword will help you make it out there.” The man said. “Though you should get moving, staying in one place too long often comes with consequences.”

Link nodded in understanding as the old man handed him something, the boy quickly realized it was something to put his sword in like all the other humans that found his mother’s fountain. He quickly attached it to his belt as he turned to leave the cave. He remembers most of the humans that came to the fountain, often saying something about ‘payment’ or ‘paying something back’.

“I’ll pay you back one day, I promise!” Link yelled to the man with a smile.

“Your survival in this world is payment enough.” The man said with a knowing smile.

Link went back towards the entrance of the cave, the sword making him feel a little bit braver, giving him the small amount of courage he needed to take on the world.

–

“Traveler, stay back!” Legend growled out from his spot.

The two had been knocked back into a cave during the latest ambush that had befallen onto the group, this time it had been a mix of monsters and traitors from the captain's hyrule, and there were heavy hitters as well, taking the form of a dark knight who had the strength of a Goron. Hyrule had jumped in front of Legend to protect him, sending both of them flying back into this cave. That's how they currently got there, Hyrule who could not find his sword to save his life and Legend who’s crash had managed to knock down a large rock that was currently crushing and pinning his foot.

“But the monsters!” Hyrule had started to say.

“Have likely drawn the others away from here because of the crash, you will be running out there blind, likely alone, with no weapon!” Legend said.

“But the others need me!” Hyrule said as he turned to run out.

“You idiot! It’s dangerous to go alone!” Legend's voice yelled in frustration. “At least take this!”

At Legend’s words Hyrule froze and quickly turned around. Despite being pinned, Legend had done his best to get up, only really being able to kneel as he held his tempered sword out to Traveler with a shaking hand, likely from the pain. Hyrule had paused at first due to the familiarity but quickly shook it away when he heard more monster screams coming from outside the cave. He rushed over to take the sword from Legend.

“I’ll pay you back, promise.” Hyrule said before he began to rush out.

“Come back alive idiot, that’s payment enough!” Legend yelled behind him.

Hyrule rushed out into the battlefield once again, it was easy to find the rest of the group, he just had to follow the trail of destruction and monster parts. Thankfully the army that had ambushed them numbers had quickly been reduced and with a few swings of the sword and few lightning strikes, that number was quickly brought down to zero. Knowing that they were safe the boys took a moment to catch their breath.

“Hey Traveler, why are you using the Vet’s sword?” Time asked, causing a sudden wave of panic to fill Hyrule.

“Legend, he was trapped under a rock, I need to go back-” Hyrule said, trying to run but nearly faceplanting, only being caught by Time.

“You're running low on magic, you're lucky you're still standing.” Time said. “You can rest, we’ll help Legend.”

“But, I..need…” Hyrule tried to say, he had not realized just how much magic he had used, just how hard it was to keep his eyes open.

“Rest.” Time said once again and Hyrule allowed himself to be pulled into darkness.

When Hyrule finally broke out of the darkness, he was looking up at a night sky filled with shining stars, memories of the battle and his friend coming back to him.

“Legend!” Hyrule said he quickly shot up, tossing off the blanket that had been placed on him.

“I’m safe, Traveler” Legend voice said breaking Hyrule out of panic state.

Hyrule turned to look at his friend, Legend had taken off the top layer out his outfit, resting his back up against a log. His skin looked healthy and there wasn’t any sign of damage until you looked at his leg. His right leg, the one that had been pinned under a rock was wrapped up in bandages. Hyrule’s expression must have shown his worry because Legend quickly spoke up.

“We’re headed to a doctor, if I drink a red potion now and my bones aren’t aligned, we’ll just have to rebreak it.” Legend explained, Hyrule still frowning obviously not liking the answer.

“You should have seen it, Hyrule, this mad man was using a magical stick to push the boulder off of him.” Twilight said, barely moving to avoid a hit from the cane.

“It’s called the cane of Byrna, you dick, not some magical stick.” Legend said as he swung the ruined carved cane at Twilight yet again.

The others let out a laugh as Twilight got up and moved away from Legend, who was not happy that his target had moved. He tried to stand up using the cane as support, but he was quickly pulled back to the ground by Time who just glared at the hero. Legend stopped trying to get up but quickly pouted, earning a laugh from the group.

Wild took a break from laughing to turn his attention back to the soup pot that was currently cooking their dinner. Hyrule slowly got up and walked over to sit next to Legend, the hero was happier having someone that didn’t laugh at him.

“Can I see that?” Hyrule asked.

Legend nodded and handed the cane over to Hyrule. Hyrule began to study the cane, he was sure he had seen it before, these ruins felt so familiar, almost humming with comfortable magic as he ran his fingers over the carvings. He just could quite place where he had seen it before.

Hyrule’s thoughts were pulled away when Wild announced that dinner was ready, pulling out bowls and filling them before giving them to his brothers. Hyrule placed the cane down before taking the bowl and began drinking it, not even waiting for a spoon.

The food and warmth of the campfire quickly took the tension away, the group soon began to laugh and tell stories. Hyrule joined in with the laughter, he didn’t bother to bring up what was gnawing at his brain. It was so long ago; he was probably just misremembering what happened.

----

Ya'll see where I'm going with this :)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu hyrule #lu legend #linked universe au #lu au #fae lu au #lu ficet #downfall duo #fae writing #fae writes

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 months ago

Text

With Friends Like These: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: In the aftermath of Emily's death, everyone is grieving in their own way. This case forces Spencer to face the truth about his own well-being and the well-being of his mother.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If any warnings exceed the normal deaths/kills from the show, I will list them.

"The old faiths light their candles all about, but burly truth comes by and puts them out." - Lizette Reese

The past two weeks have been filled with tension and anger. You don't even have to be in the building to feel it inside. You're trying really hard not to let it affect you but how can you when your entire team is angry at the situation? Ian Doyle got away. He was gone when you found Emily with a stake in her side. He hasn't been found so he's either not in the country anymore or in a. hole so far underground that he's off the grid.

Either way, he's gone and someone has to pay for Emily's death.

Spencer is taking it the hardest. He values each and every person on the team. Coupled with the fact that he didn't say goodbye to her, it's breaking him down. You can feel him slipping away with each day that goes by. He tries to act okay for you but you know what's behind his mask.

You're in the kitchen making two coffees for the road when he enters the kitchen. He doesn't have the usual pep in his step.

"Hey, baby. I have your coffee here."

"I'm going to tell you something but know I haven't done it."

You pause and look at him worriedly. "What is it?"

"I've thought about turning back to Dilaudid." Immediately, your heart becomes heavy. It breaks your heart to know he's in so much pain that he wants to turn to drugs. "I don't want to do it and I don't think I will, but I've thought about it."

You set down the coffee cups and bring him closer by his tie. You wrap your arms around his neck and his hands find your waist. You lean up and press gentle kisses to his neck.

"I am right here for you, Spencer. I know it's hard but it'll get better." You kiss him quickly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling me and for trusting me."

"I'll always trust you."

You two finish getting ready and head to work using the subway and bus. It takes an extra ten minutes but you enjoy the time spent away from the BAU. At least you won't be around people who are constantly thinking about Emily. You step foot into the office and notice Penelope standing by herself at the very end of the hallway holding a box of cupcakes. Before you go into the bullpen, there is a hallway off to the left that has pictures of agents who have died. Among those is a picture of Emily.

Penelope's been there every day for the past couple of weeks.

"Penelope, you gotta stop staring at her. Prentiss wouldn't want us to sulk. You know that," Derek says.

"I'm not sulking. I'm surrounded by testosterone now minus Y/N. She better not go anywhere."

"She won't, and Emily would also want us to embrace Seaver."

She and Derek leave the hallway and to the briefing room, but you can't seem to move from your spot by your desk. Emily's desk is cleared off but no one has claimed it yet. Hotch claims it's too early for a replacement, and he'd be right. Still, there is something... off... about this whole thing. Something is missing, and everyone's grief is overpowering that feeling. Ashley graduated from the academy so people are celebrating in the briefing room.

All you can do is stare at Emily's desk.

"Something doesn't feel right about this," you say.

"Does it always? Death isn't supposed to feel right. Come on."

Spencer leaves but you stay right where you are.

"I don't feel her," you whisper.

With a sigh, you follow Spencer into the briefing room.

"Congratulations, Agent Seaver," Hotch says.

"Thank you. Thank you all for coming to my graduation. It meant a lot."

"Let's get started. Garcia?"

"Okay, we're going to Portland, Oregon, and it's not for a dead moon concert. Jay Johnson, a DJ, was cutting through an alley on his way home after leaving a club when he was bludgeoned by a pipe and then stabbed thirty-one times. His watch, cell, and computer were stolen. That was two days ago. Now, early this morning, Holly Heywood, a thirty-year-old nurse, died during a home invasion. She was stabbed forty times, but she was bludgeoned with weapons of opportunity first."

Pictures of both crime scenes and bodies are displayed on the screen. Penelope refuses to look at it.

"Eight different ones, to be exact. That's too many weapons for one person."

"There was a left and a right-handed killer according to the ME report."

"Yeah, but eight different weapons? We could be looking for a group."

"It seems that way," Hotch agrees, "and the left-handed wounds were deeper than the right. Either a woman was involved or a very weak man. Was there anything taken from the house?"

"According to a neighbor, just some random stuff like a computer, some jewelry, and a framed picture of a Lily."

"All pawnable items. What do we have, serial-killing crooks?" Derek scoffs. "Is there a gang situation in Portland?"

"Minimal," Spencer answers. "This seems more like desperate people in need of quick cash."

"Why kill them if it's just for the money?" Ashley wonders.

"That's what we have to find out, and we've got eight hours till nightfall. Let's go."

You don't waste time and get to the plane as fast as possible. There is a looming tension in the air because of Emily but you try your best to ignore it. It's like there is this weight sitting right above your shoulders, just barely touching you. It's still heavy enough to remind you of its presence but not heavy enough to crush you.

"So, both victims were around the same age and killed at night. One in an alley on the way to his car, the other in her home after coming from the grocery after work. There's extreme overkill in both."

"Overkill usually implies a personal relationship," Ashley says.

"Or it could mean that the victim represents someone for whom the killer has extreme anger."

"These unsubs are night owls, stalking and killing other night owls, and they're also disorganized. In one, they subdued their victims by hitting them with a pipe found at the scene, and in the other, they used a knife followed by seven other items found in the kitchen."

"You're telling me they went through all this trouble just to steal?"

"When a gang mentality sets in, unsubs become more capable of heinous acts."

"It's still odd. The incidence of robbery is so low in this area."

"That's why I started working on a geographical profile," Spencer says. "First things first, I factored in the journey to crime distance." He holds up a digital map of the area. "If you look here, you'll see that this area of Portland is well within the expected five-mile radius. I also factored in the distance of decay."

"What does distance have to do with decay?" Ashley asks.

"It's how geo-profilers measure the relative probability of an offender traveling outside his comfort zone. Unsubs prefer to stay in an area that they know well. The closer the crime scenes, the greater likelihood it is that the unsub lives or works nearby. Based on my algorithm, the unsubs either live or work in the area."

You get up and walk to the kitchen to grab some water when Hotch approaches you.

"How are you doing?"

"What answer would you prefer to hear?" you say without looking at him.

"Y/N."

You look at him. "I don't feel her, Hotch."

"What?"

"Emily was part of my family, and I don't feel her." You drop your voice to a whisper. "If she was really dead, I'd feel her."

Hotch stays silent which is an answer in and of itself. You grab your water and leave his side. When the plane lands, you, Rossi, and Hotch head over to Holly's house since she was attacked the most brutally. If you're going to get anything, you're going to get it here. You take one step into her house and you're hit in the face with such angry, desperate, and destructive energy. It's all over this house but there is only one. You're not looking at a team. You're looking at an individual who is very sick.

You've seen this kind of energy before, too. It looks like it's being pulled apart at the seams which means the unsub's mind is deteriorating.

"The neighborhood is very concerned," Detective Colbern says.

"Detective, did your people process the crime scene?"

"No, we wanted you to take a look at it. Maybe you'll see something we missed."

"The ME's report says she died after the second stab wound because they hit an artery. The other wounds didn't bleed. Why inflict thirty-eight more?"

"We see it sometimes with groups. The fact that others are involved helps each of them rationalize their own violent behavior like Manson and the genocide in Darfur. These unsubs like the feeling of killing. They get a high from the adrenaline release."

"Yeah, but that lasts only as long as the victim keeps struggling. That's not what happened here," Rossi says.

"This isn't the work of multiple unsubs. It's one." Hotch and Rossi look at you. "Besides Holly's energy, there is only one here. I've seen this type of energy before. It's messy and it looks like someone is trying to pull it apart at the seams like thread or yarn."

"Where did you see this energy before?" Hotch asks.

"Spencer's mother," you sigh. "This unsub has schizophrenia. He's hallucinating others that make it look like there are multiple unsubs. It's also probably why Holly was stabbed so much."

Rossi looks at the footprints made in the pools of blood. "You think all these footprints were made by one person?"

"I know so. In fact, the murder is happening as we speak, I'm just ignoring it. Plus, a group so disorganized wouldn't do something as hyper-organized as wearing the same shoe. This unsub is sick and he's not seeking treatment."

"I'll let Morgan know."

Derek is at the store where Holly was right before she went home. The security cameras don't work, unfortunately, but the cashier on shift last night swears that there was no group of people not in the store or outside of it. When Holly went to the register, there was another customer at another checkout because there was a weirs guy freaking out the other customers, and Holly didn't want to be in the same line as that guy.

He was a normal white dude with greasy hair. He was mumbling to himself and swatting the air like someone or a bug was bothering him. He said something to Holly but she quickly blew him off and left the store. That must have pissed off one of his hallucinations.

Derek calls back with the new information.

"Yeah, Y/N. You were right. He was by himself but he was acting strange like he was being followed."

"Spencer and Ashley went to the club and found that the first victim was killed in an area of high drug use. If he's using drugs, it's only going to make his hallucinations even worse."

"That would explain why he stole random things from Holly's place. He was out of it," Rossi agrees.

"The adrenaline rush from the drugs is probably behind the overkill." Penelope calls and you patch her through while keeping Derek on the phone. "Go ahead, Pen."

"Okay, I checked all the local pawn shops to see if any of those stolen items had shown up there. I'm coming up empty."

"Maybe he's trading the goods for drugs."

"What do you mean, he? We're talking about a group, right?"

"No, we think it's someone who has schizophrenia, Pen. He's really sick."

"Wow. That is a game-changer. I'll call you guys back."

"Thanks."

The rest of the day goes by without incident, but you wake up to the news of another murder. This time, it's a man, Joe, who is in the middle of painting his bedroom. There are plastic coverings everywhere so the hardwood beneath is damaged by the blood. The bad thing is that the plastic is white so the place looks like a bloodbath. The same type of energy is here as the one in Holly's house, but it's more stretched out and damaged. This man is spiraling and it's only a matter of time before he's killing left and right.

"So, the time of death was about the same as the last two kills," Rossi estimates. "He's continuing the postmortem stabbing."

"I counted forty wounds," Detective Colbern says.

"He's accelerating. Two kills one day apart. We need to find someone who knows the place in order to figure out specifically what was taken."

Footsteps can be heard from above signalling that the neighbors are home.

"Do you think they heard something?" you ask.

"I think the person downstairs did," Derek says.

You and Derek head downstairs to talk to the neighbor directly below Joe's apartment. The woman who is home is a middle-aged woman who is shy. She looks like someone who doesn't enjoy going out much.

"Hi, I'm Agent Y/N and this is Agent Morgan. We're with the FBI. Did you hear anything strange last night from the apartment above?"

"Yes. It was horrible. All the screaming. Gosh, I've been in this building for twenty-seven years. The worst incident we ever had was when Benjamin Headley up in 402 found out his wife was sleeping with the cleaner guy and shot him in the groin."

"Ma'am, when did you hear the screaming?"

"It was late around three in the morning."

"She must have heard the unsub because according to the ME, Joe died around two-forty-five," Derek says to you. "What exactly was the person yelling?"

"He said, 'I was just a kid. I was a kid then. I don't want to kill anymore.'"

"Was anyone talking back to him?"

"No. I assumed he was yelling into the phone or something."

You look at Derek with a knowing look. "He was having a conversation with his hallucinations. He's getting sicker by the minute." You look at the woman. "You've been a really big help. Thank you very much."

"If you have any more questions for me, you know where to find me."

She closes the front door.

"You're right, Y/N. He sounds like a paranoid schizophrenic. The disease does manifest itself at his age. What if the people he's seeing are blaming him for something?"

"Or worse. The voices in his head could be telling him to kill," you sigh.

You two start the walk back to the apartment above, but you take it at a slower pace.

"How are you doing? You know... with Emily?"

"Besides being pissed off at the world and Emily?" You scoff twice. "Look at me, pissed off at a dead woman."

"I know."

Derek pulls you in for a hug, and you smile at his comfort.

Since you know more about the unsub, it's easy to put together a profile. As Detective Colbern gathers her officers, you pull Hotch off to the side.

"Before we start, let me talk to Spencer. I need to prepare him." Hotch nods, and you find Spencer. You pull him off to the side where no one else can hear you. "Listen, there is something you should know about this case. The unsub has schizophrenia where his hallucinations are telling him to kill." Spencer's eyes widen and he grows sad. "I want you to know that your mother isn't violent. She is sweet and loving and takes medicine to help her. You are not going to end up like that either. I need you to separate the case from your own life, okay?"

"Okay," he whispers shakily.

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#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite

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