#ANON I WILL SEE YOU AT SOME POINT IN THE NEAR FUTURE WITH A THOUSAND WORDS OF FEELINGS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

husbandohunter · 4 years ago

Note

You know ur small predicament post?? you should make a reverse version where s/o is smaller!

A Smaller Predicament [Genshin Impact x Smol!Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Not only did you shrink, you went pocket sized as well!

(A sequel to "A Small Predicament")

(A/n): Sorry for the long wait anon, and I kind of added a twist to the scenario for more diversity hahaha hope you don't mind >_<. And why is Childe the poster boy for this series lmao.

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Childe

When Childe walks in, he doesn't see you....until he looked down. He almost crunched you beneath his feet if it weren't for your constant flailing of arms and screeching voice. He blanks out for a hot minute as you clung onto his toes, doesn't dare to move an inch because he's so petrified (even though there's nothing to be afraid of??). But honestly if Childe moved right now, he might accidentally flail you to the side and that's the last thing he wants.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??" He screamed so loud it nearly blew you out of proportion. Seems like he's going to have alot of adjusting to do. Childe is a tall man (canonically the tallest) and he knows how impulsive he can get which is why he bought a handmade dollhouse from one of the Liyue merchants for you to stay in.

Though there's something about your tiny size that makes his heart flutter. With your face so small with a pair of eyes far too big, *clutches chest* "My oujo-chan is so cute" -Childe probably. He won't stop saying them over again and you were growing tired of his gushing reactions. He can't help it. He wants to spoil you rotten. You fit right onto the flat of his palms, the way you just snuggle up againts his finger and he just- swoons, might tear up (bruh).

Toys may be for kids but for Childe it was now his favourite pass time. While you navigate around the wooden dollhouse, he pitches in by moving around the furniture to make it easier for you. Offers to carry you through the rooms like a personal elevator. And please, please let him tuck you to bed. He has to pinch his fingers to grab the blanket. It's so adorable to him.

Loves it when you snuggle up against his collar. He thinks it would be the best area for you to be nearby him since the risk of you getting hit by anything (or him) by accident is very slim chance. Sometimes he pulls up his collar so that you're more comfortable and cradled within. He would have to avert his eyes down rather than turning his head if he wanted to look at you otherwise you'd be hit by his chin and that would hurt.

The poking sensation with you by his neck can bother him since he's veeeery tickilish there. Plus, Childe can get easily sweaty so have fun with that.

You have a feeling that he wasn't so pleased when you transformed back. You might be right. Actually, you are right. He secretly has an extra potion hidden somewhere...just in case.

Diluc

Mortified, his soul just left his body. To think things couldn't get any worse ever since he turned into a child to the point no one took him seriously, now you're literally the size of an apple. Oh god what if his bird suddenly swoops in and gobbles you right up? Or the wrath of the wind comes by, swirling you away towards a tornado. Needless to say, Diluc grew paranoid over your well-being ever since.

Due to your extremely small size, he will ensure that you are supervised by him (except at night where he has places to go). In otherwords, you're slipped into the inner pocket of his coat. It's super warm, you can fall asleep (and feel his heartbeat awww). Diluc doesn't like keeping you in places where people can see you, it would be too easy for outer things to access your tiny form (or maybe he secretly likes the feeling of you in his pocket.)

And he's such a gentleman about it. You noticed how careful he moves among his footsteps because he's worried that you might get dizzy. Diluc guards the pocket at close parameter, keeping an eye on things so he won't bump into them. As if he was treading on thin ice (you even suggested it was best to leave you home but he's too overprotective for his own good).

You're like his little assistant. Diluc does so much paperwork through out the day and although the act was small, he finds it endearing how you would help bring the papers back to it's rightful pile or pushing the ink bowl towards him. Or during his shifts at Angel's Share, crawling around the glass utensils and trying to find a specific wine beverage on his shelf. Of course that only happens when the shop is closed, how is he going to explain to his patrons that you shrank and now live in his pocket?

He dislikes the thought of you wandering too far. It's so easy for you to get lost especially when the mansion is so large.

At night you now sleep atop the fluff of the pillow. Diluc is a calm sleeper so he won't have to worry about hitting into you. However he radiates warmth so you just subconicously roll towards to his face. He usually wakes up with you sprawled over his nose. He can hardly breath (careful, he might just sneeze too).

This all happened because of the experiements you participated with Albedo. Diluc ensures that doesn't happen again. It will take some tencaious effort to convince him otherwise.

Scaramouche

Fuck this guy. He treats you like his new pet, a new toy (though you technically are one). He has this arrogant, smug and sadistic look as if he was a predator looking at his prey and grabs you by the collar before dangling you up in the air.

"Hmph, looks like the tables have turned," he says while toying with your state. You tell him he's just angry because he's short himself and mad that everyone else in the Fatui organization is taller than him. Scaramouche demon face activated. He's about to devour you. (Maybe you should keep your mouth shut this time. Honestly your relationship with him is pretty weird).

His hat is so fun to play with. You'd swing around like Tarzan using the strings that were hanging from it. His head was your playground now which annoys him to an enourmous extent because it makes him look ridiculous. Scaramouche will have a hard time catching you since you move around so much. Climb around him, especially the back of his neck. He'll start wheezing when you tickle him there.

The type to put you in a box but also the type to keep you on his shoulders. Being relied on makes him feel taller (lmfao). Scaramouche seemse to have developed a habit to poke your cheeks whenever he needed your attention and you bit him back once when he pushed too hard that you nearly fell off. Despite your size, your teeth still hurt. He threatens to put you back into the box if you don't behave and the outcome ends with a full out brawl as he tries to grab you again while you run around, pulling the strands of his hair to climb on top of his hat. (This is literally Tom and Jerry wtf.)

After transforming back, he outwardly admits his disappointmen. Scaramouche says it suits you better (when he actually meant that he highly prefers you small). You marked his words, keeping an extra vial for your own entertainment in the near future.

Xiao

Xiao was face-palming against his forehead real hard about this. For the love of Rex Lapis, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? First it was the child incident, now you're the size of his finger? Good grief, looks like he will have to keep an eye on you from now on but at the same time he's scared to get too close, you are nothing but a tiny mortal in which he would have to double his effort to look after.

He lets you sit at the crown of his head rather than anywhere else. You insisted since it was easier to see everything at a nice distance (plus he's short so you won't have to worry about him bumping into door frames). You noticed that Xiao also has a little strand sticking out from the center (ahoge) and you sometimes grab onto it for stability. Turns out he's quite sensitive there and winces when you pull too hard.

For the remaining week as the antedote was being prepared, Xiao became extremely aggressive over your well-being, he looks as if he's ready to massacre everything in his way...which he did. Clears out the monsters off the path before going on daily strolls with you, you wouldn't have to lift a finger from now on. No one except for him is allowed to hold you unless they're a trustworthy person. You could feel his sharp eyes glued on you like a hawk when walking into the grasp of Zhongli's hand.

You once accidentally tripped into his almond tofu when he wasn't looking and he almost ate you. Turns out being small made his job as your gaurdian ten times harder (especially when you're the clumsy type). If you were to fall off the table, he would have to catch you right? Xiao often bumps into furnitures in the process...ouch!

He's very soft. It's all over his forehead, his mouth, his eyes. When he looks at you, his tense eatures melted away and there's an invisible fondness over them as he cradles you in his palm. The way you snuggle in them is lke the most precious thing in the world.

When you turn back, there's a wave of relief. He was really stressed out you know?

Zhongli

His first thought is to get you as far as he can from the Funeral Parlour before Hu Tao finds you. Who knows what that child might have in mind. Zhongli takes one of his empty tea pots and urges you to go inside, or carries a tea cup with you in it, he likes placing you on objects while carrying you around.

Zhongli realizes that you can no longer use the household items like before so he has to remake them to your standards- especially when he realized he doesn't have the mora to buy you a dollhouse. He improvises. Takes a handkerchief to make your blanket, his cups for your bathtub, Zhongli had to cut the foot into byte-sized too. But in terms of clothes, well he had to make them as well. Living thousands of years would mean he would have lot of experience. Sewing was one of them luckily. But that would mean he has to take your measurements as well. In the end, most of the things he made were dresses since they were alot easier.

You like to sneak in between his shirt and his vest tucked behind the coat he wears. Unfortunately Zhongli doesn't seem to have visible pockets (most likely the reason why he doesn't carry mora either), though if you don't hold on tight you might just slip down his vest and right to his stomach. It makes him chuckle when that happens even if the amount of effort to get you out took more than he thought since his attire is quite complicated to put on. If you really want to climb on him, he'll find a seperate pouch (but realizes it won't be a good idea when there's alot of pick-pocketers in Liyue streets).

All of a sudden he reads you bedtime stories. It's some sort of inner instinct that tells him he's taking care of a child now (he's right though). You realized that his voice was equivalent to a thunder's roar due to size difference. He would have to whisper now.

It will always be part of his precious memories when you turned pocket-sized. Zhongli still keeps the clothing he made somewhere in his closets too.

Kaeya

Amused by this eventful situation. Absolutely thrilled! He's not evil like Scaramouche but this new version of his s/o is both adorable and fun at the same time. You're so easy to tickle, just one poke using his finger against your hips makes you yelp. Sometimes he twirls your hair or taps your forehead gently despite your protest, he's so handsy like always in an affectionate yet annoying way.

Kaeya picks you up and places you among the fluffy comfort of his feathery scarf. You sneezed, the last time he cleaned it was before he went on a mission with the knights. Though you have to admit, it's the best feeling in the world. It's so soft you might sink deeper into the fabric. He likes to put you in places where he can talk to you easily, sometimes on the table while he downs on his wine. Normally you have to take the bottle away before it gets too much, now you have to push it away which he finds very entertaining at your futile attempts.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you tell him. Since you turned byte-sized, he can't seem to stop playing around. Takes his two fingers and pretends they're legs walking across the surface. You would turn around and he halts, Kaeya sends you his signature grin. When he promises that he wouldn't do anything funny, you would let him hold you. Since hugs are out of the equation, Kaeya gives you his finger instead to wrap your arms around. He can't get enough seeing you like this, things he couldn't do when you were normal-sized. he enjoys your reactions way too much.

His favourite pass time is helping you brush your hair because the hairbursh is too big for you to handle. Kaeya ensure he's handling things delicately but he would love to help style it for you as well. Pretty please? At this point one request turns to another because he's having way too much fun. But it couldn't be helped since you would need his assistance in almost everything so there's really no escaping.

You were so happy when things were normal again but Kaeya would bring this up again during your conversations (how next time he would like to put you in his drinks while you're wearing a swim suit).

Albedo

Legit blurted out if he could put you on a hamster wheel.

What about trying out the little maze he just made?

Or participating in a race against slimes of different elements?

No? Okay, then he'll just turn you back.

Albedo isn't going deal with this as along as he can help it (especially when he remembers what Klee did to him when he turned small.)

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years ago

Note

Caius/Carlisle because of plot reasons. Twilight never happened. How do people react?

How do people react?

How do I react, anon, that's the real question. And it's with laughter, so much laughter, I think you've made my day.

And for the record, of course Twilight doesn't happen, because we're in the strange world where Caius/Carlisle is a thing: that changes everything.

Now, How the Hell Does this Happen?

Aro invites Carlisle to Volterra and Caius is not pleased. This guy is weird, he doesn't eat properly, Aro is infatuated and obsessed, and Caius is just dying.

Also, in this universe, Aro's unsure of his footing and doesn't go in for the kill. So on top of everything Caius has to deal with, he's watching lovesick Aro mooning and actively fretting if he's going to get laid with Carlisle or not (while Carlisle, somewhat clueless, is just hanging around reading books).

Caius decides he's had enough.

Fuck it, if Aro's not going to seduce this weirdo then Caius will, and that'll teach Aro to bring in guys who literally eat rats out of the sewer.

Caius, however, is also not a subtle guy.

He probably descends upon Carlisle in the library, shoving Aro out of the way, and says, "I will take you, pretty boy". There's no question here, mind you, it's just a statement. This will happen at some point in the near future.

Carlisle is once more very confused (he doesn't really understand what Caius is even implying here) but he doesn't want to be impolite to a man who is apparently king of the demons.

Well, Caius keeps trying, and shoving Aro out of the room and...

Like the world's weirdest romcom, it somehow works.

Thanks to the gift Carlisle has that neither @therealvinelle nor I have written a meta about yet, Caius starts thinking that Carlisle is actually a pretty cool dude. Crazy, of course, but he's starting to see what Aro sees in this guy.

On Carlisle's end, Caius is a barbarian warlord king, but he's surprisingly learned, has a wealth of experience, and a very interesting (if autocratic) view on life.

They start having actual conversations.

The ancient Greek wrestling matches Caius forces Carlisle to take part in not only are homoerotic as hell but also very sexually charged.

One thing leads to another and before they know it they're actually having an affair. Caius, of course, makes sure to rub it in Aro's face. If he hadn't spent so much time dallying around he could have gotten laid and this is why Caius always wins.

(Aro cries.)

Well, in the original plan, this was the part where Caius then kicked Carlisle out of his bed and said, "Get out, loser" Trouble is, he actually likes Carlisle now, and is oddly enough having a grand old time. So much so that, instead of visiting Corin, he hangs around Carlisle to discuss how worshipping Jewish carpenters is a silly occupation and Caius was alive for a thousand years before Jesus of Nazareth even existed.

When Carlisle starts hinting that he wants to leave, to search for others like him or at least willing to share the diet, Caius finds himself actually alarmed.

Carlisle isn't useful in any way Caius notices. He, in fact, is actually odd and very distracting, but dammit Caius has become accustomed to his face.

Aro let Carlisle go in canon, I imagine Caius Chelseas him to hell and back. Should that not work, Caius goes with him (making of course poor Renata come with the pair of them) and sabotages any chance for Carlisle to a) make friends b) get anyone on the diet. More, Caius I imagine makes it his mission from god to look for some hippie who will do this cardboard diet with Carlisle. Caius doesn't think he'll find anybody, but dammit, he'll find somebody.

Unfortunately for Caius, the first person he finds is a young Eleazar, who annoys the ever loving shit out of him. He can't do it. He can't even wait for Aro to get rid of him. Caius throws his severed limbs out a window and lights them on fire.

Caius then announces that he now respects human life, that's right, Carlisle, Caius is doing the fucking diet. SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO LEAVE VOLTERRA, DO YOU?!

Carlisle decides not to say anything to that. How can he? There are no words. To his surprise, Caius sticks to it for several hundred years and keeps going. Carlisle isn't sure how he feels about that.

How Do People React?

Aro cries and asks Marcus how Caius and Carlisle's relationship is progressing. Unfortunately, every time he asks, it seems to be doing fine for reasons unfathomable to everyone.

Carlisle becomes a familiar face in Volterra and in time is unofficially accepted as a sixth member of the coven. There's never a ceremony or anything, he just is.

Sulpicia is delighted because this means that Athenadora's husband is now having sex with hot men too. It's not just her anymore. Athenadora, meanwhile, is very confused about what's happening.

The Cullens don't react because they don't exist. Caius never let Carlisle get that far.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #twilight shipping #caius #carlisle cullen #caius/carlisle #aro #aro/carlisle #meta #headcanon #opinion #shipping

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

Shut Eye

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS

requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!

_________________________________

You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.

You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.

The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes.

Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.

He was trying to send you a message.

He was trying to find you out in this big world.

You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.

Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.

we talked about family

did we talk about our family??

Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening.

Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone.

There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.

The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream.

Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-

Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.

part of a group (friends?)

Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.

But who was it?

You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.

I recognized the friends - famous?

It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day.

You’d just have to wait until the next dream.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling, sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”

Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”

“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”

You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too.

“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”

“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”

In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”

You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”

“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”

A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”

IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”

“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”

“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope.

“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”

With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”

“So you’ll do it?”

In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing.

••••••••••••••••••

Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.

Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.

A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around.

Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.

He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.

Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world.

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.

“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”

“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting.

He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.

You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality.

You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows.

Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit.

Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.

“We’ll find a way. I promise.”

•••••••••••••••••••

It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.

You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.

Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.

“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.

We love each other

•••••••••••••••••••

Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you.

Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.

Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”

“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad.

“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”

Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.

You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up.

There’s only one group that can command that much attention.

You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before.

Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.

It’s the suit.

The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right.

It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled.

And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.

Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.

In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes.

For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took.

Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that.

Not as Yoongi saw you and knew.

You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red.

“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.

You remembered everything.

The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other.

You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys.

You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.

And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.

And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.

“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.

masterlist

#Yoongi x reader #idol!yoongi x reader #idol!bts x reader #yoongi fluff #suga fluff #suga x reader #idol!suga x reader #yoongi x y/n #bts x y/n #suga x y/n #bts fluff #bts soulmate au #yoongi soulmate au #bts shared dreams au #suga shared dreams au

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mayasaura · 3 years ago

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hung up on the implications of Ianthe going to see a man about a queen (+ the Third presumably being one of the only houses that uses monarchical titles to begin with) but Corona referring to herself as a king in ayu. No idea what the hell these implications are but I’m definitely hung up on them.

I’m going to frame your ‘Ianthe went to Sarpedon to find Judith+Corona’ analysis on a wall, I hadn’t even considered Sarpedon being Judith’s dad.

The other thing I’m hung up on (the other thing that’s not Yanthe scheming theorizing) is the implications of Judith’s guessing that it was Corona who came up with the whole ‘let’s just pretend we’re both necromancers and Ianthe necromances for the both of us’ thing combined with how without Ianthe covering for Corona, Ianthe would’ve been the default Crown Princess of Ida, instead of Corona. Feel like that’s its’ own layer of Third drama but with the king/queen dichotomy, I feel like titles/future titles are going to have Some significance, esp considering Corona’s uh semi-exemption (not really accurate but idk how else to put it) from the necromancer/cavalier gender binary and (if I’m remembering right), Corona referring to herself as a king very near to when she says she could be a god, if only the job opportunity was open. After I’ve written this out, I’m also obsessed with the differences in titles that Yanthe and Corna use to refer to Corona if you’re right.

Sorry for dumping my collection of red pins and string in your inbox! the tl;dr is that I really liked your theorizing and it’s giving me new and exciting brain worms

Are you kidding, thank you for your red pin collection! There are few things in the world I like better than red pins and string! And thank you for your compliments on the 'Ianthe went to Sarpedon' thing; the credit is really at least half due to the anon who asked me about the line in the first place. If they hadn’t pointed it out, it would never have occurred to me to do a side-by-side reading with As Yet Unsent. Speaking of which!

Now here's a juicy chunk for us to chew on. I looked into your king/queen/god thing, and found out it's not Corona who says it. It's Judith.

Image has alt text

Corona hasn't chosen a title yet. And now that you've pointed that out, I'm gonna be keeping an eye on that too. Not to mention how interesting it is that the person to most clearly connect Corona to prospective godhood is loyal soldier Judith Deuteros. Makes me wonder where she'll land.

I agree w you that it's also interesting that Judith is convinced it was Corona who came up with the scheme to pass her off as a necromancer. I'm not sure how far I trust Judith's judgement in general, and she has been in love with Corona for twelve years, but I definitely see her point. The Corona in As Yet Unsent, who is already internally mediating a ten-thousand year old war and planning the fate of the Nine Houses according to her final judgments, is a long way from the Corona who backed down immediately over challenging Camilla to a duel and was left sobbing on the floor of a lyctoral laboratory. Though it is worth noting that Judith was not present for either of those shows of submission from Corona; for the duel she was helping Marta back to their rooms, and she was slowly dying next to the transmitter when Ianthe ascended.

Well. However right Judith is and whatever she decides to do, I think we can definitively conclude one thing from the evidence. Judith clearly thinks the sun shines out Corona’s ass.

You've given me a lot to think about, my friend. Our brain worms are vibing.

#the locked tomb #as yet unsent #ayu spoilers #htn spoilers #harrow the ninth #judith deuteros #coronabeth tridentarius #tlt meta

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kjmsupremacist · 3 years ago

Text

into the woods (doyoung/jungwoo)

REQUEST (closed, sorry!) from anon: “Hello there! May I request a Doyoung/member angst+fluff? I’m not particular on the member.” | Doyoung and Jungwoo have been best friends since childhood, and as they grew older, their friendship became something different. But where they’re from, no one wants to see two boys in love.

(hi to my networks! i skimmed everyone’s rules re: homophobia, and tagged the nets that seemed to be ok with it. if its not ok, please disregard & send me a ping so i know for the future! ty!)

Characters: Doyoung, Jungwoo

Genre: oneshot, magical au, angst, fluff

Warnings: heavy discussions of homophobia, q slur, bittersweet ending

Rating: Teen & Up

Length: 3.4k

“Keep up!” The girl raises her gaze from the uneven forest floor, and immediately stumbles over a root. “We’re almost there!”

She pushes past a thick clump of undergrowth, chasing her friends’ footfalls, and bursts into the clearing where the rest of them have gathered, some already seated, spreading out blankets and unpacking snacks. She sighs in relief. Her feet ache and the warmth of summer has made her skin sticky. She drops to the ground, unrolling a blanket and lying back on it, water bottle in hand.

“Look there.” She cracks an eye open; the eldest among them is pointing a little ways off, at a tall tree rising up over the little hills and smaller, scrubbier trees separating it from their clearing. “See that tree?” Everyone nods. “I heard a story about it. It’s actually two trees, planted so close their trunks and branches touch.”

“You’re lying,” one of the other kids scoffs. “How can they grow like that? One would definitely choke the other, steal all its nutrients. There’s no way. They probably have the same root system, came from the same seed.”

The eldest shakes his head. “Nope, come back in the spring. One side blooms pink, but the other has flowers that are dark red. You can look it up, if you want. It’s a naturally-occurring phenomenon.” He looks around slyly. “Or, some say it’s magic.”

Some of the kids roll their eyes, but the girl props herself up on an elbow. “Magic? How?”

The eldest smiles, glad at least one person has taken the bait. “Wanna hear the story?”

Some soft grumbles arise, but everyone is too tired to protest. A few others raise their heads in keen interest as the eldest makes himself comfortable, clearing his throat. The girl closes her eyes again. His stories are always good, even if they aren’t true.

* * *

Doyoung’s lungs hurt. The pain in his chest is keen and tight. It’s in his throat too, and his shoulders; the rest of his body feels weak and faint. He shifts, watching carefully. In the distance, voices—but they grow further and further away until he can’t hear anything.

He counts to one thousand before he moves anyway, extending his legs and shaking them out a little to get the blood flowing again. Letting out a sharp sigh, he begins to hike deeper into the woods. He doubts the others will come this far. For all their bravado, they have fears, just like Doyoung. Their fears are just different. They won’t walk unfamiliar paths, still scared from the stories their mothers fed them when they were children.

Doyoung knows there are far worse things that live outside the woods.

He gets nearer to his favorite spot. It’s near a waterfall, past thick undergrowth and little clearings that are always warm and speckled with sunlight in the summer. He hears the faint rushing of water, and whistles, a few low notes, a tune only one other person knows, then pauses, waiting.

Faithfully, the same tune comes back to him, carried on the wind from up ahead. He speeds up, whistling again. The returning whistle is much louder than the first, but Doyoung still can’t see its source. He steps into the clearing, walking carefully down to the edge of the pond.

“Jungwoo?”

He hears rustling above, and then he’s knocked to the side by a sudden weight. Jungwoo lands beside him, laughing, as Doyoung stumbles, nearly falling into the pond.

“Jungwoo!” he repeats, scolding this time.

Jungwoo just grins. “Did I scare you?” he asks, giggling.

“Yes,” Doyoung says, trying and failing to maintain a glare. But Jungwoo’s bright smile is a far greater force than Doyoung’s irritation, and he finds himself huffing out soft laughter. “But really. It’s not funny.”

“You’re laughing,” Jungwoo protests.

“No, not this—that. Them.” Doyoung points off into the forest vaguely. “Now, it’s all talk. But…”

“I know.” Jungwoo’s face grows solemn; he reaches out to Doyoung. “I know.” But his cheer breaks through all the same—when Doyoung takes his hand, his smile returns slowly, almost like it’s trying to sneak back onto his face without being caught. “But it’ll be okay. No one will know.”

Doyoung nods slowly, taking a deep breath. “No one will know,” he echoes, like a prayer.

Jungwoo kisses him softly, and Doyoung breathes him in, the familiar earthiness of his skin, of his sweat. It grounds him, even though his heart is still hammering in his chest, even though his skin still prickles with anxiety.

“Come on.” Jungwoo breaks the kiss. He’s still smiling; the sight of it settles Doyoung, soothes him. If Jungwoo is still smiling, then things cannot be so bad. “Come swim with me.” Without waiting for an answer, he steps back, tugging off his shoes and shirt, and goes splashing into the pond.

Doyoung follows more slowly. Though he’s certainly more at ease now than when he first entered the clearing, the fear still lingers. It’s no small thing, two boys in love. They could be cast out for it, or more likely killed. Here, deep in the woods, they can pretend nothing is wrong, but they can’t live here forever. They have to answer to their families, fulfill their duties as sons. They cannot do that together, and they know that. Honestly, Doyoung doesn’t even know why they’re still trying. When they were young, it was natural to hope. Naivety will do that.

But they are no longer children. Perhaps, Doyoung thinks, as he sinks into the cool water, it’s simply the gesture of it, the quiet rebellion. To do what they can with the time that they have and then live the rest of their lives on the satisfaction that once, they had lived differently.

Jungwoo splashes him and Doyoung yells in surprise, then lunges forward after him as he tries to escape deeper into the pond. For now, it doesn’t matter. For now, he only has to worry about catching Jungwoo and getting his revenge, then lying in the sun to dry before night comes.

When they tire of wrestling in the water, they retire to the plush grass just beyond. Doyoung flops on his back, chest heaving, wide smile stretched across his face to match Jungwoo’s. Jungwoo drops down beside him, rolling onto his side so he can press soft kisses to Doyoung’s neck and jaw. Doyoung combs his fingers through Jungwoo’s hair, almost absentmindedly. The sun gets lower in the sky, washing the clearing in warm yellow light as the day treks on. Here in this little clearing, they are safe. The forest offers them protection, unfailingly, and today is no different. Things are gentle and quiet and good, so much so that Doyoung forgets how precious they are.

Months pass with hardly a hiccup. The other young men and women in their town do not relent, but Doyoung and Jungwoo are used to it. Most importantly, the adults do not take the teasing seriously; when Doyoung is pressed by his parents, he tells them the rumors are baseless, and that he and Jungwoo are good friends.

“We’ve known each other since childhood, Ma,” he says. “We grew up together. Let the people talk.” Each word is another thorn in his heart, but it doesn’t matter. “It’s just talk.”

“Alright.” Though she smooths his hair with light fingers, her gaze is sharp and keen. “You know, if you would settle down with a girl, the talk would stop.”

“Settle down?” Doyoung asks, perhaps with more emotion than he should. “I’m still young, how can I think of settling down? When I’m older, I will. Not now.”

His mother smiles, somewhat placated. “You know,” she says. “Your father married me when he was not much older than you are now.”

“People don’t get married that young anymore,” Doyoung protests.

“Hmm.” His mother regards him for a moment. Her smile is fond, but a little exasperated. “You cannot run from your future forever,” she reminds him gently. “Eventually, you must put your childhood aside. Everyone who lives must do so. It is the way of things.”

“I know,” Doyoung whispers, looking away so she doesn’t see how it hurts. “That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know,” she says, rubbing his back. It’s not comforting. She doesn’t know. Even though Doyoung can feel the warmth of her hand through his shirt, his world seems small and cold.

But that’s alright. His world will be small and cold. Though he and Jungwoo have not discussed it, he knows that once they are married, they will not be able to see each other anymore. They will likely remain friends, but their bond will grow thin and distant. But it’s as his mother said. It’s the way of things.

His parents market him to the families of some of the young ladies in the town. Doyoung follows through diligently, offering favors, flowers, pieces of his time. He’s a popular bachelor—soft-spoken and intelligent, beautiful and strong. If the girls notice there is something missing behind his eyes, they don’t seem to care. Jungwoo does the same. The talk dies down, turns to silly gossip of the past.

Doyoung’s older brother is married that spring. At least before, he knew he should wait until his brother had a family of his own before he began pursuing his in earnest. Now, that buffer is gone. Besides, he’s getting older. If he doesn’t marry soon, he knows the rumors will pick back up where they started. He also knows Jungwoo must be feeling the same pressure, because he rarely sees him anymore, except in passing, and always with a girl.

One night, Doyoung is woken from a deep sleep by a hand over his mouth. He tries to scream, but the hand all but completely silences it.

“It’s me,” Jungwoo whispers. His eyes are wide and his tone is urgent. Doyoung blinks against the dark, recognition flooding his body and relaxing him. Jungwoo feels the change and releases him.

“How did you get in here?” Doyoung hisses.

“You always leave your window cracked in the summer,” Jungwoo says. “I brought a ladder.”

“Okay,” Doyoung says, deciding they don’t need to discuss that any further right now. “Why are you in here?”

Jungwoo sits heavily on the edge of his bed. In the dim moonlight, Doyoung can see unfamiliar lines on his face. It’s been almost a year since they have been alone together, and Doyoung is surprised and somehow sad to see that he has changed. His expression is drawn and tight; he is not smiling now. Doyoung’s fingers twitch at his side. He wants to hold him, to do something, just to see his smile again.

“My parents want me to propose to this girl,” he begins softly. “I’ve been seeing her for a while—and she’s, you know, she’s nice. But I planned to ask her tonight, and… I just couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Doyoung asks quietly.

Jungwoo turns to look at him. His eyes glitter with unshed tears. “She’s not you,” he says, barely audible.

Doyoung feels like he’s on fire. “Jungwoo.”

“Doyoung.”

The room is still and silent. The clouds have blown past the moon; it is brighter now than before, and the two men sit frozen in a pool of its light, staring at each other.

A tear slips down Jungwoo’s cheek. His voice trembles. “I don’t want to live without you,” he confesses. “I—I could never be happy, not with her, not with anyone. Not with anyone but you, Doyoung, can’t you understand? I can’t do this anymore, I can’t—I thought maybe if we pretended long enough, we could let it go but—but I’ve tried it, and I can’t. I will be miserable for the rest of my life, sick on my memories of you. I…” he takes a huge breath. “I’m going to the woods tonight. I’ll try to live out there, and if I can’t, then I will let the woods kill me. I would much prefer that fate to any alternative.” He reaches out, then stops, hand hovering midair. “Come with me,” he begs. “It would be easier with two.”

“We’ll die,” Doyoung protests.

“Then we’ll die,” Jungwoo replies.

“But my family,” Doyoung begins, but Jungwoo cuts him off.

“Gongmyung will take care of them,” he says, and Doyoung can’t even argue because he knows it’s true.

“Okay,” Doyoung says breathlessly. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“You will?” Jungwoo’s shoulders sag with relief.

“Yes, of course I’ll go,” Doyoung says, sitting up straighter. Adrenaline courses through him now; he’s wide awake. He takes Jungwoo’s hand. “Of course. I’m the same as you. I love you, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo smiles then—it’s smaller and sadder than Doyoung is used to, but it’s a smile, and that’s all that matters. They lean forward, knocking their foreheads together. Doyoung shakes; it’s been so long since he’s been this close to Jungwoo, since he’s felt his skin against his own. “Let’s go in the morning,” Jungwoo says softly. “We can spend the night preparing. We’ll meet after breakfast at the edge of the woods. Promise me.”

Doyoung tilts his head closer and kisses him. Though it’s been a year since their last kiss, it's so easy. Doyoung’s body remembers even though his mind tried to forget. Jungwoo climbs into his lab, holding his head between his hands, still kissing him, fierce and desperate.

“I love you,” Jungwoo says when they pull away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you,” Doyoung whispers. His hands follow Jungwoo’s body of their own accord as he slips from his bed and out his window again, down the ladder and out of sight.

Doyoung pads quietly around his rooms, getting his things in order, leafing through his belongings to decide what to take. He has to pack lightly; it cannot be obvious that he’s leaving for good. He packs a few thick blankets, rolled tight, a few tools, a change of clothes. It won’t matter much; in the winter they can retreat to a cave and build fires for warmth. Last, he tiptoes downstairs just as the sun is beginning to light the sky, and rummages through their pantry. He can hunt, and Jungwoo knows the names of every plant, but it will be good to have some easy food when they’re still on the run. He knows they’ll send search parties, and as incompetent as they will be, it will be best to focus on hiding.

He’s just finishing tucking one last roll of bread in his bag when he hears footsteps.

“Ma,” he says, turning. “I’m going to take a walk in the woods today.” He gestures to the pack. “I’ll be back in the evening. And… I want to talk to you after dinner. About—about proposals.”

His mother lights up. “Of course,” she says. She draws near, brushing hair off his forehead. “I’d be happy to. Don’t go far, alright? Will you be alone?”

“No,” Doyoung says. He doesn’t see the point in lying. People will see him with Jungwoo; the news will travel back to her. It will only make her suspicious. “Jungwoo will be joining me.”

She pulls her hand back. “Jungwoo?”

“Just for old times’ sake,” Doyoung says. “He’s proposing to a girl tonight. We just… wanted to spend our last day as boys together.”

His mother’s expression softens once more. “Of course,” she says. “Come home while the sun is still high, alright? The woods are dangerous in the dark.”

“Of course,” Doyoung says, nodding. He grabs a piece of bread to eat on the road. “Tell Ba where I’ve gone?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “See you tonight.”

“See you tonight,” Doyoung echoes, guilt clawing its way up his throat as he turns and pushes his way outside.

Jungwoo is waiting for him at the edge of the woods. He lights up when he sees him, waving. Doyoung waves back, grinning.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” Jungwoo confesses when he gets close. “Ready?”

Doyoung takes a long look over his shoulder, then nods. “Ready.”

They’ve hardly taken a step when another voice stops them. “Look, the queers are back,” a young man sneers. Laughter follows. A few more people emerge from nearby shops and houses, either to join in or to watch.

“C’mon,” Doyoung mutters. “Let’s lose them.”

“Did you think you could fool us?” another boy asks derisively. Doyoung and Jungwoo pick up the pace, keeping their heads down. “Some of the girls who follow you around might buy it, but the rest of us know the truth.”

“Where are you going? Come back,” a girl says. “Show us what’s in your bags. Surely you weren’t thinking of running off together? What would people say? Come on, show us.”

“Run,” Jungwoo says, breaking into a sprint. Doyoung struggles to follow suit, casting a glance over his shoulder. A small crowd has formed behind them; they’ve begun to fan out.

“They’re trying to surround us,” he says to Jungwoo. “Faster, let’s go.”

They crash through undergrowth, whip past trees, leap over gnarled roots and fallen logs. The laughter and shouts follow them into the woods, floating between the trees. How could they know? Doyoung wonders to himself as he runs, feet pounding against the earth. We should’ve just gone last night, when it was dark and no one could see. How will we escape them now?

“We just have to lose them,” Jungwoo pants from beside him. “Come on, Doyoung, come on!”

Doyoung lets his feet carry him on a familiar path, past high rocks and grassy knolls, around sharp bends he once knew so well. But still the voices follow. He pushes himself to go even faster, lungs aching, body aching, heart aching.

Suddenly, he’s in their clearing. The rush of the waterfall fills his ears, but it doesn’t drown out the shouts coming from all around them.

“Jungwoo,” he gasps, stumbling and falling to the ground. He flails out his hands; they catch Jungwoo’s wrists and he pulls him down with him. “What do we do?”

Jungwoo doesn’t answer him. Instead, he turns towards the waterfall. He sets his pack aside and kneels. “Spirit of the forest,” he pleads. “I throw my life at your feet and plead for your help. Please offer us protection like you have for so many years. Please—please let us live here together in peace. Please let them not find us. I can’t go back—we cannot go back. We’ll be killed. Please.”

A strange breeze blows through the clearing. Jungwoo turns back to Doyoung, grabbing his hands. He knocks their foreheads together, so hard that Doyoung’s eyes water. “Jungwoo?” Doyoung asks, voice shaking.

“It’s alright.” Jungwoo’s voice is strangely calm. Doyoung feels frozen to the spot—no, frozen isn’t right word. Rooted, like he’s become one with the forest. He feels the thrum of its life beneath his knees, coursing up through his body and giving him strength. “The forest will protect us, Doyoung.” He pulls back a centimeter so he can look him in the eyes. “Will you stay?” he whispers.

The breeze turns to a strong wind, stirring up dead leaves around them, but Doyoung hardly notices. “Yes,” he says, voice firm and steady. “Yes, I’ll stay! I love you.”

“I love you, too!” Jungwoo leans in for a kiss, and Doyoung closes his eyes. Though the voices are drawing near, he is not afraid.

* * *

“The forest took pity on the lovers, and turned them into trees. They live forever in an embrace, protected from those who would wish to harm them,” the boy concludes. “They were saved, and now they know perfect happiness.”

“Sure,” one of the other kids snorts. “Only magic doesn’t exist.”

“Don’t believe me?” the eldest replies. “Look, if you squint—” The girl opens her eyes, following the line of his arm as he points at the tree. “—it looks like the trees are dancing together, or, some even say, kissing. Some say on nights with no moon, you can hear their laughter echoing through the woods, and see their spirits chasing one another around their trees.”

Scattered giggles break out through the group, but the girl stays silent, blinking at the trees. They do look like two lovers, frozen in an embrace. Maybe the story is true, after all.

The sun is getting low, and they need to be home for dinner, so the others begin to pick themselves up, dusting off grass and folding up blankets. The girl follows, but still she keeps her eyes on the trees.

As they turn to leave, she swears she sees a shadow flicker past the trees, just the flash of something in the dying light, and, carried in on the warm summer breeze, the faint sound of joyous laughter.

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nautiscarader · 3 years ago

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Got another Rayllum for you! Saw that role playing was on your kink list so how about this;

Mortal Prince Callum/Moon Goddess Rayla. One night as if appearing out of thin air Prince Callum is visited by the goddess of the moon Rayla, adorned in gently flowing near see through silks. This goddess approaches the noble mortal to ask a favor of him, “Pledge your heart a to me for eternity, and gift me with many beautiful and powerful demigod children”

And that night as well as many nights to follow in the coming months Rayla adorned like a goddess rides her lover, milking him of his seed again and again. And time after time the months show the growing swell of her belly swaddled in silken cloth as proof that the noble mortal prince has fulfilled his goddesses command.

And will always be willing to obey again in the future.

You like?

ANON USED LONG, DETAILED, FLUFFY AND SMUTTY PROMPT

IT IS SUPER-EFFECTIVE

NAUTISCARADER FAINTED

Prince Callum nearly screamed when a glowing, female form appeared at the end of his bed, looking almost ethereal, seemingly floating with the gentle breeze that entered his chambers, together with beams of moonlight she seemed to made of.

He has heard stories of ghosts and banshees from the moors, of spirits that visit one’s dreams, and he felt almost paralysed, if not for the fact that certain parts of his body certainly were waking up to life.

The horned woman was almost naked, sans the flimsy, but intricate night gown that covered her perky breasts flat, athletic stomach and the meticulously trimmed bush of hair adoring even more appetising triangle formed by her thighs.

“Good evening, prince Callum”, the woman spoke, climbing his laps, “Ah am Rayla. the goddess of the Moon, the fairest, most beautiful and wisest goddesses of them all…”

“And the most humble”

Rayla shot him with an icy looks, noticing his lips twitched just a bit, but decided not to break her character.

“Ah have seen yer dreams and decided to choose you as my liege and avatar, and the one who shall gift me with yer heart.. and yer seed.”

She grabbed the blanket and uncovered Callum’s lower body, licking her lips at the sight of his erection poking through his undergarments. If it was slightly more spear-like, it would have pierced the material…

“Pledge yer loyalty to me, and Ah shall grant the mortal world with powerful demigods”

Bu-but goddess Rayla,. I have never been with-with a woman…“, he stuttered, seeing her eyes sparkle.

"Do not worry… Ah will teach ye…”

Rayla leaned forward and kissed her lover, first bringing his lips to her core, letting him caress her soaking sex, praising him for his appetite (“That’s one of the reason Ah chose you!”), before the hormone-heavy Rayla climaxed on top of him, digging her fingers into his ruffled hair.

“Quick, human, fill mah womb with yer seed..” Rayla chanted as she got back in his laps, mounting herself onto his cock, before Callum/s hands slammed her properly against his crotch.

With each bounce, Callum watched as the flimsy night gown moved with their rapid, erratic moves, flowing in the wind caused by their love-making. He has experienced Rayla in the full moon heat, but now, powered by the determination she was carrying, it was a thousand times more sensual, and he found himself not able to withstand her wet, warm walls, almost as if it was their first time.

Callum came, and with that, Rayla let out a short giggle, feeling warmth of his semen flooding her insides.

“I- I’m sorry, it-it happened so quickly… Please don’t leave me…”

Rayla chuckled.

“Oh, do not worry, mortal. Ah will be here the entire time the moon is full. And, well..”, she looked outside, at the night sky, illuminated with the glowing disc, “the night is still very young…”.

And with that, the lunar goddess dismounted him, just so she can taste her chosen ones cum and ensure he would be back to his form. A minute later she was riding him again, hoping that at some point of their roleplay her avatar will topple her and will fold her or force her on all fours in half to mate her and flood her womb again.

========

As he months went by, the goddess Rayla kept coming back, first with good news that their ritual was successful, and then, every full moon, to experience her mortal lover’s cock. And with each visit, Callum watched as the delicate nightgown bends slightly with her growing belly, by month five stretching slightly and with month seven unable to be held together with its buttons.

Pride overwhelmed him, knowing they have done what was once thought to be impossible, and that in just few weeks, their children will arrive and fil;l their life and the castle with giggles and laughter…. and some nightly crying - they knew it wasn't going to be all sugar. But for now, as Callum brought his unearthly lover to another climax, they were happy, with Rayla collapsing next to him, about to fall asleep.

“Anything else for my goddess?” , Callum asked.

“Yes.. ”, she replied in low, alluring voice, bringing Callum closer to her, “Bring me the jelly tarts, Ah’m starving after riding ye”..

#rayllum #lemon #GOOD PROMPT #like you have read my thougyts about that nightie flowing around her #good stuff anon #nautiscaraderfics #aged-up characters and all that

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secretwhumplair · 4 years ago

Text

Experiment 71

719 words | Original work

Prompt | by Anon

Content | Experiment whump, it’s all very vague, captivity, psychological/emotional whump, touch-starvation, escape, implied: torture, mention of: needles

Notes | Whoops.

This was going to be a tiny little snip and now it’s significantly less tiny snip lol. I will NOT continue this in the foreseeable future, don’t tempt me. (But I will keep it on the back burner with the million other WIPs, it’s too late)

71B sobbed hysterically against the glass wall.

They had seen what happened to 71A on the other side of it. They could see them lying on the floor where the lab staff had left them, half-dead.

Tomorrow, 71B would be the same ruined wreck. Every scar, every needle-hole, every incision on their body matched 71A’s.

The staff left 71A’s cell, and 71B looked after them, half-blind with tears.

But not too blind to see the way the door handle got stuck just a fraction lower than usual.

For several long moments, 71B just stared. Surely they would come back any moment and fix the door. But nothing happened. Whether they thought 71A was too broken to realize or do anything with it, or this was another experiment, 71B didn’t know.

They only knew 71A had a sliver of a chance to escape this hell.

They banged against the glass until their fists hurt, even knowing it was near sound-proof. But finally, without looking, let alone getting up, 71A inched over to the wall, moving in ways that could hardly be described as human. They hadn’t heard 71B, they reckoned. They just came for their usual desperate attempt of comforting one another.

Eventually, they sagged against the wall, and turned their head just enough to look at 71B with glazed eyes.

71B knew they were looking for a shred of compassion, but they had no time, the staff might come back at any moment, and even breaking their heart over it, instead of soothing gestures, they frantically pointed 71A at the door.

For a moment, they looked hurt in a way the staff could never manage. Betrayed. But once they turned their head, agonizingly slowly, they realized immediately. They looked back at 71B, their eyes, even exhausted as they were, just a little wider.

“Go,” 71B breathed, knowing full well 71A couldn’t hear them. “Go, get out of here, go.”

71A laid a trembling hand against the glass.

71B mirrored the gesture without thinking, like they had done a thousand times, but then withdrew. “Go. Go!”

71A crawled over to the door. Their journey up to the handle might as well have been a climb to a hostile mountain peak.

“You go, you can make it!” 71B’s breath fogged the glass. As did their tears. “Go on…”

71A reached the handle. It took some fiddling, but eventually, the door opened.

They half-fell out of their cell.

And they were gone.

71B rested their head against the pane and howled.

They didn’t know for how long they missed the sounds at their door for it. Then they scrambled up as fast as their own aching limbs, a thousand older scars, would allow.

“Don’t, run…” Only as they said it to the still-closed door, they realized 71A was in no condition to go anywhere on their own. Even if they ever wanted to.

Still, the thought of 71A getting caught at their door terrified them. They would be punished. And the next day, so would 71B.

They trembled against the cold metal until, with an underwhelming little click, it opened.

They scrambled through.

71A had collapsed back to the floor, not even looking up. No one else was in the corridor, only dimly lit by emergency lighting; neat little glowing green-framed arrows.

But for now, 71B only had eyes for the figure they had watched for so long, without ever a chance to meet them, touch them, tell them so much as a comforting lie.

Half of them expected to meet a barrier when they extended their arms towards the limp form. But not this time. They pulled 71A into a hug, sobbing into their hair cropped as short as 71B’s. 71A’s fingers weakly curved into the too-large white shirt 71B was wearing, identical to theirs.

They hadn’t been touched with any kind of feeling in so long.

It took all of 71B’s strength to force themself out of it. They wanted to stay like this, just holding and crying and listening to each other’s sounds, but they knew what tomorrow would bring for them.

“Okay,” they whispered, forcing themself to their feet, pulling 71A with them. They could barely offer any help in supporting their own weight. “Let’s get out of here.”

#whump #experiment whump #captivity #escape #my writing #experiment 71 #the strays

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iamnmbr3 · 3 years ago

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I know you're not happy with the show but making things up is really damaging your reputation. The show is not a failure; it's the biggest launch of any disney+ show so far with the highest ratings. The first trailer has so many views because it's 7 months old, compared to the first episode being out a week and a half. The CGI doesn't look like it was done by a two year old (seriously lmao??). The tesseract looks dull because it powers down once in the TVA. Stop pretending Loki was mind controlled when Marvel confirmed in his character bio that he was emotionally influenced by the scepter. Bucky was mind controlled. Selvig and Hawkeye were mind controlled. Loki was influenced like Banner and the others were by the sceptre when they were around it on the helicarrier. Please consider that care has been taken to make Loki more multifaceted in this show, not OOC - he's just got more emotion and character to him now and feels to me and a lot of others, more like a living, breathing person who is struggling in the immediate aftermath of being shown the most traumatic recap of his life. I'm really sorry you're not happy with him, but his emotional core and inner heartbreak is being treated with love and respect by the show.

Hahahahahahahahhaha oh my god anon this was a funny read. Ngl usually when ppl come clowning in my inbox with incoherent rants I just delete it. But this was some quality clowning. This was just too funny to not share with everyone. So I’m gonna go line by line here.

“I know you're not happy with the show but making things up is really damaging your reputation.”

I’m gonna be real with you anon. This makes me sad because I will never write anything this funny. This made me laugh out loud. My reputation? My reputation?!?! I run a blog on Tumblr dot com. No reputation can recover from that. Also as to making things up? Uh. Where??? Just because you don’t like what I have to say doesn’t mean it’s made up. However with that kind of attitude I think you have a bright future ahead of you working in PR for the GOP. They love people who talk like you.

“The show is not a failure; it's the biggest launch of any disney+ show so far with the highest ratings.”

Ok I literally just talked about that HERE. But let me add a few more points here for your convenience. First of all, Disney+ hasn’t actually been doing that great. In fact Disney’s stock recently fell precisely because Diseny+ has underperformed. It missed growth expectations and none of the shows have attracted that big of an audience. Loki had MASSIVELY more interest than either WandaVision or TFATWS and yet it only drew 890K households for the premier - just barely more than either of those shows got. There haven’t been any numbers released for the episodes after the premier but given how boring and unfunny and uninteresting the premier was, I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of viewers, especially more casual ones, didn’t come back for more.

“The first trailer has so many views because it's 7 months old, compared to the first episode being out a week and a half.”

Incorrect. Trailers get most of their views in the first week, and the vast majority in the first 2 weeks. Indeed, they get the most engagement in the first DAY usually and then it starts slowing. The early trailer that got 18 million views got most of that very quickly and then has grown extremely slowly ever since. The more recent trailers are not tracking to get anywhere near than engagement. Why? Because interest is dropping. Now maybe people just aren’t as interested in the trailers because they’re just happy to watch the actual show now or because they loved the first trailers so much that they decided to watch the show just based on that and didn't want to spoil themselves watching later trailers. Who knows. I certainly have my theories though.

"The CGI doesn't look like it was done by a two year old (seriously lmao??)."

Actually I said the posters looked like they were done by a 2 year old. Most of the CGI looks like cheap made-for-tv effects done by an underpaid and under qualified adult. But go off I guess. Also don’t even try to defend those badly photoshopped posters to me. I have eyes. I could argue with you but a picture is worth a thousand words. And just. Look at this thing! This is real. It’s so bad but it’s real. Who wants this?

"Stop pretending Loki was mind controlled when Marvel confirmed in his character bio that he was emotionally influenced by the scepter.Bucky was mind controlled. Selvig and Hawkeye were mind controlled. Loki was influenced like Banner and the others were by the sceptre when they were around it on the helicarrier"

That’s mind control lmao. The scepter was magically influencing his mind. Do you think emotions come from our feet or something?! (And that’s not even getting into the torture and conditioning he underwent or the fact that the Other had his claws in Loki’s mind and was hurting and threatening him in addition to the mind control). Also why do you think it’s appropriate to come on my blog like this and make these sorts of demands? This is my fandom blog that I run for fun. I can engage however I want. You need to learn to cope with that. If you enjoy the show that’s great. Go enjoy it. Don’t tell other people what to think. That’s not appropriate, reasonable, or healthy. If you find yourself truly unable to cope with strangers having different opinions from you about a tv show based on a comic book I definitely suggest you seek help from a professional.

"Please consider that care has been taken to make Loki more multifaceted in this show, not OOC - he's just got more emotion and character to him now and feels to me and a lot of others, more like a living, breathing person who is struggling in the immediate aftermath of being shown the most traumatic recap of his life."

I don’t see any evidence at all of care being put into the show. The writing and storytelling is incredibly sloppy. It gets even the most basic things wrong - like Loki’s speaking style or the fact that he wasn’t young in the 70s or that he speaks the Allspeak not English or his skin tone or hair length or the fact that Jotun!Loki should’ve had ridges on his skin. The head writer and story creator also is openly disdainful of Loki and talks about how he’s a “shithead” and “proper and pompous” and how he needs to be put in a situation where he has to stop “blaming” Odin and Thor for all his problems. He shows no understanding of Loki’s character or care for it. Maybe care was put into the show and they just messed up but I don’t see evidence of that. There’s certainly no way you could know that for a fact unless you are involved in the production in which case you are a biased source who has an ulterior motive for silencing critics of the show.

Also TV!Loki doesn’t feel like a real person to me at all. He feels like a caricature. He doesn’t act like Loki or do or say the things he would or even stand like he would. Look how Loki behaved when being interrogated by Natasha or when being berated by Odin. Loki is someone who puts on a performance as a sword and a shield. TV!Loki is a stupid clown.

"I'm really sorry you're not happy with him, but his emotional core and inner heartbreak is being treated with love and respect by the show."

No it’s not. It’s being turned into a punchline. The “humor” in the show derives entirely from invalidating Loki’s feelings and retconning his motivations and humiliating and mocking and denigrating him and turning him into a literal punching bag. The show robs the character of all dignity and seriousness and makes a mockery of him and the fans he meant so much to. And for what? The humor isn’t even funny.

#asks #loki tv series #loki show #loki tv show #loki 2021 #loki series #Marvel #MCU

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entishramblings · 4 years ago

Text

The Cruel Nature of the World [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: So here is another Legolas one shot because I am immensely skilled at procrastinating my fic and ignoring my ikr responsibilities!!! We love that!!!!

Request: anon — hii, if you’re taking requests can I ask for a Legolas X Reader where the reader is kind of touch starved...and really needs some soft gentle touches? Maybe one big with the fellowship she’s sitting next to him and something happens?

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) joins the fellowship and is focused on her own struggles. Legolas wants to comfort her. The fellowship teases him for being sweet on her.

Word count: 1,830

Warnings: themes of depression?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

The moon had risen high against the blackness of the sky and it’s light pooled upon the weary group, offering solace from the dark. It was then when the fellowship finally decide to rest. Aragorn had picked a spot tucked into the side of a rather large mountain, where the vastness of the stone wall and adjacent forestry provided cover from those who might seek what they carried. The group could be seen from no sides and, quite frankly, the shelter was a comfort to them all.

Sam had built a fire and they eagerly gathered around it to siphon the warmth and eat a hearty meal. (Y/N) leaned her back against the sleek stone that towered above them and stretched her legs towards the flames. Her somber eyes gaze upon the stars while she waited patiently for a plate of food to be passed to her. Here, she let her mind wander.

The cruel nature of the world did not spare (Y/N). Her life was anything but easy. Alone and the run—where she hid from fear, from guilt, from regret, from her past. She was tired. Tired of the darkness that seemed to follow her through all the centuries that she had lived. Tired of all the death and destruction she witnessed. Tired of the pain. Tired of fighting. Tired of killing. There was no escaping it, so why had she even bothered concealing herself from the dreadfulness of it all? But now, it was unavoidable. The time had come to change direction—to sprint towards the ruthlessness of the shadows. That is why (Y/N) joined the journey to destroy the ring. That is why she chose to pledge her life to the quest.

The scent of crispy sausage and beans filled her nostrils as a plate was held before her, drawing her from her thoughts. She moved her gaze from the lights in the sky to the one who offered her a meal.

Legolas stood, towering over her, with a knowing expression upon his face. He lowered the plate as a gesture for her to take it, which she gratefully accepted.

“The boundless freedom of the sky fascinates us all,” he stated as he sat down next to her, placing his own meal in his lap.

The elven woman raised her brows and nodded in the direction of Merry and Pippin, “Well, maybe not all of us.”

Legolas lifted his head to see what she was motioning at. And sure enough, she was correct. The two hobbits were more interested in attempting to stick their sausages up their nostrils then contemplate the wonders of the sky. The Mirkwood Prince couldn’t help but crack a smile. How they came to think up this ridiculous activity with their food, he knew not.

The two elves ate their meals in silence for the blonde ellon didn’t know what to speak of. It was very rare for (Y/N) to carry a conversation, no matter how many times Legolas had tried. She seemed to be in a world far off—always sharpening her countless weapons and living in the crevices of death and despondency. He could see the emptiness in her eyes and the dread in her soul. She viewed the world as a vicious place; one with no comfort and no warmth. Quite frankly, this saddened the blonde Prince. There was more to existence than loneliness. He was sure the others noticed her ideology too, for many times they tried to engage with her but she shoved them off. Nevertheless, Legolas was not yet willing to give up on her; and sitting directly beside her, in quite close proximity, was a start.

.....

Plates were collected and the low singing voices of Boromir and Aragorn hummed through the air. The deep tones resonated within them all and it gently lulled them into a relaxed state.

It was not long before Legolas felt a slight weight upon his shoulder. He slowly shifted his peripheral vision and was surprised to see that is was the head of the worn-down elleth. Really, what else was he expecting? An orc?

Legolas was still as he focused on the sound of her steady heartbeat and gentle breathes. It was different to witness her in this state. Not once on their journey had she sought physical comfort. Quite frankly, Legolas couldn’t remember any time that she had even touched one of them. But now, in her sleep, she seemed so tranquil and welcoming of his warmth; and he was glad to give it to her. The corner of the Prince’s mouth tugged upward. He was rather pleased that she chose to use him as a pillow. He would be lying if he said it didn’t feed into his pride. He had wished thousands of time that he could pull her into his embrace and take away her suffering. Furthermore, Legolas had desired this closeness for a long time. He too craved consolation from the horrors of the quest.

The Prince’s brows furrowed slightly when a thought crossed his mind. The position she was in couldn’t be comfortable. He shifted and ever so carefully lowered her head into his lap. Legolas was shocked that she didn’t wake and push a blade again this throat.

In her unconscious state, a barely audible whimper escaped her lips and her fist clenched onto the fabric of his trousers. Legolas lips parted; the sound was so heartbreaking. He wondered if her dreams were also haunted. Hesitantly, the elf rested his hand on her head. He began to run his fingers through her smooth locks in hopes to provide some relief. As Legolas did this, he examined her appearance. Without the ever present angry scowl on her face, she looked peaceful—well as peaceful as one could get during these dark times. The curve of her jaw molded her structured features nicely. Her eyelids would fluttered occasionally, like a bird about to take flight; and her plump pink lips were were parted, like raspberries plucked to early. She really was beautiful, as all elves were.

Suddenly, the raking sound of Aragorn sharpening his sword with a metal file stopped. Heat rose up to Legolas’s cheeks and ears as he felt eyes boring into him. Ever so slowly the elf lifted his head. The Ranger’s body was frozen and his eyes were glued to the pair of elves with a surprised accusatory look. This, of course, summoned the attention of the rest of the company.

Boromir was the first to speak with amusement upon his tone, “So the wolf doesn’t bite...”

A teasing smiled plastered across Aragorn’s face. Legolas inwardly groaned; he surely was to hear an earful from his friend latter.

The uncrowned Ranger replied to the Gondorian, “Well, she doesn’t bite elf boy over there.”

A loud gleeful cackle erupted from Gimli. How it didn’t wake (Y/N) and the hobbits was a mystery.

Legolas rolled his eyes in attempt to hide the embarrassment, but he was sure the group could see right through him.

Gandalf, who was smoking his pipe, chided the men, “Oh, let the elflings seek comfort from each other for these are dark times we live in.”

Legolas sent a grateful smile in the old wizard’s direction, but regretted it when a glimmer entered Gandalf’s gaze and he continued speaking, “Maybe we will have some little ones in the near future to bring joy to us all?”

The Mirkwood Prince was positive his face was as red as a midsummer’s cherry at this point.

This could not get any worse.

.....

As the journey went on Legolas’s friends did not stop the taunting jests. Whenever the two elves arms brushed together or sat beside each other the men sent teasing looks their way. Of course, (Y/N) didn’t even notice. Aragorn went as far as constantly forcing them to complete daily tasks together such as hunting and scouting. It was embarrassing really. Even the hobbits caught on!!

It wasn’t until Pippin opened his mouth that the groups plans were revealed to (Y/N). The small hobbit and elven woman were gathering fire wood when Pippin spoke, “So (Y/N), do you like Legolas?”

The woman tilted her head, “What prompts you to ask such a question?”

The gleeful child-like being laughed, “Well, yesterday when your back was turned Strider was making kissy faces at you and Legolas!”

“HE DID WHAT?!” She hollered.

Pippin, surprised at her outburst dropped the sticks he was holding, “As...as I just said he—“

She shook her head, “Hush, hush. I heard you the first time.”

(Y/N) stormed off towards the camp and the hobbit quickly scurried behind her—struggling to pick up the assortment of logs.

All heads turned as she, visibly pissed, marched right up to Aragorn. She balled her hand into a fist and punched him right in the jaw. “THAT IS FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE!” She clocked him again, “AND THAT IS FOR ENJOYING IT!”

Aragorn had a confused and shocked expression upon his face as he wiped blood from his lip.

The sound of an amused chuckled from Boromir drew her attention. She stormed up to him and kicked him hard in the shin, “AND THAT IS FOR GOING ALONG WITH IT!”

(Y/N) then turned her head towards Legolas, “And you—“

She made her was towards the elf with long strides and jabbed her finger in his face, “How dare you not tell me of this!!!”

The Prince’s eyes were wide with shock, “I...I—“

She interrupted him, “Why?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

He moved his lips to speak but no words left his mouth.

She tilted her head, “Unless.....unless it’s because you are embarrassed....” Her lips parted and the looming question tumbled from her mouth. “You...you fancy me?”

All eyes were on them at this point. Legolas swallowed dryly and every so slightly nodded his head.

Without warning, (Y/N) grasped both sides of his face and yanked his head towards her. She smashed her lips against his and he froze in shock. Time stood still for a moment, but the realization of what was happening finally hit him. Legolas snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her form against his. (Y/N) felt the rush of helpless thirst flood her as their mouths danced against each other. It had been so long since she touch another with care, but never had she experienced this kind of intimacy. She tangled her hands in his soft blonde locks while gladly inviting his warmth to infect her being and bring solace to the turmoil within her soul. She would never admit it, but she had needed this. She had craved this.

If it wasn’t for the woof whistles and hoots from the rest of the fellowship they probably would have continued. However, the two reluctantly pulled apart with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. They did not break eye contact; instead, they took comfort in each other’s tight hold. Maybe, just maybe, the cruel nature of the world wasn’t so menacing.

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narukoibito · 4 years ago

Note

St. Mungos, since feeling is first who pays attention and Muggle FWB for the WIP Game?

Thank you for the interest, Anon! This took a while because things in my personal life are in chaos, but thank you for the request.

St. Mungos

This is my Healer!Ginny story that has been lurking in the back of my brain since last year. I’ve written a good amount of words, but then an entirely different plot appeared and now I may have to rewrite most of it, hence it’s lack of progress. But I still really want to finish this one day.

Ginny is a Healer on the 4th floor of St. Mungos. Her first patient is someone named Harry Evans. (This is a Harry never to Hogwarts story.)

The first thing Ginny notices is his eyes. They’re the most vivid, bright green that she’s ever seen. It’s unnerving how unseeing they are. A pressure builds up in her chest, an aching pain and nostalgia she can’t place.

The morning light from the window washes over his face, dancing off these round wire-rimmed glasses. His dark hair (black like a blackboard) appears to be on some ineffable scale of entropy — tousled and pointed in every which way, yet somehow it’s charming and works well with his sharp, unconventional features. Some of that hair spills over a bandage wrapped around his forehead.

But it’s also the pleasant, vacancy in those eyes that strikes her, like she’s looking at the embers of a once bright flame. He looks like an innocent, half-lost child, his lips curled in a ghost of a smile.

Her clipboard and supervisor tell her his name is Harry Evans. The name creates an itch at the back of her head, something she wants to scratch at, but the odd sense of nostalgia must be misplaced significance. He’s her first real patient.

He must matter to someone important to have his own room on the fourth floor of St. Mungo’s Ward 49. Usually they lumped all the long-term spell damaged patients in one place, let them wander under the supervision of one Healer. But this room is spacious and private, protected by complicated wards and concealing charms. Someone really cares about Harry Evans, and for some reason it causes a subtle burning behind her eyes. Maybe it’s because he looks like a newborn fawn.

Who wouldn’t want to protect him?

“You’re new, but he’s not difficult. It’s mostly maintenance,” her supervisor says. “He makes it easy, don’t you, Harry?”

Harry’s gaze drifts toward the window.

Ginny scans his file. It’s actually surprisingly thick, but a lot of it has been redacted. The summary page sums it up though: he’s twenty-one; he has been here for three years; the diagnosis is vague (severe curse damage); there’s a long slew of attempted cures, none of which were successful obviously; now it’s about making sure he’s comfortable whatever that means.

“All right, let me know if run into any trouble.” Her supervisor is already starting for the door.

“Um — what about — I know his treatment is maintenance, but can I…?” Ginny’s not sure what she’s trying to say exactly. Harry Evans has seen a lot of Healers if the list of attempted cures is any indication, but she gave up Quidditch to become a Healer in the long-term spell damage ward specifically because she wanted to do something.

Her supervisor gives her a rueful smile.

“Stick to maintenance. Harry Evans is a special case.”

Ginny turns back to Harry, who is facing her again, looking painfully innocent.

Somehow she doesn’t need convincing that he’s special.

since feeling is first who pays attention

This was a gift for the Harry/Ginny Discord Incognito Elf exchange. I managed to finish in time to gift it, but I want to take some additional time to rework it before posting. It is missed moments over the years as Ginny and her feelings for Harry evolve.

Ginny presses her face against the wall, peeking between the stair spindles. Her bright brown eye lands on the two boys hunched over a chessboard. Her brother Ron and Harry Potter, who, despite appearing to be losing, doesn’t look the least upset.

Harry Potter.

The Harry Potter is in her house. Looking comfortable on their couch despite the faded, mended cushions. His face crinkles in laughter at something Ron says, his green eyes bright with contentment. Ginny doesn’t miss the occasional look of awe at the things she’s always taken for granted. It’s almost as if he can’t believe he is really here.

He isn’t what she expected – isn’t what she imagined he would look like after all those years listening to Mum recite her favorite bedside story, about the heroic Savior of the Wizarding World. She had pictured neat hair, a dashing smile, someone who would recognize a comrade in her and take her on all sorts of adventures. He would be different, he wouldn’t discount her dreams of flying and doing everything her brothers could and more.

Instead, Harry Potter has the messiest hair ever, a sheepish smile, and clothes that he nearly swims in. Oh, and he has somehow missed the memo and found the comrade in her brother Ron instead.

Her fingers curl around the spindle. Not for the first time, a spike of envy shoots through her. If only she were a little older or a boy. Then maybe she would be the one playing chess with Harry. Maybe she would be the one to hide under his invisibility cloak and battle trolls and face You-Know-Who with him.

Ginny presses her face a little closer and lets out a sigh.

But Harry Potter is kind. He ignores all the times she has made a fool of herself. And he has the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. They are as green as those glowing jars of pickled toads at the Potion ingredients store Mum had taken her to. Pretty and kind and not dismissive of her patched clothes or her glowing red face.

Harry Potter. If he likes Ron, if he looks like he actually likes the Burrow, if his face grimaces at the attention at Flourish and Blotts, could it be possible that one day he could like her too?

Muggle FWB

Hah, so this was the first idea that I rambled off to my beta, which ended up with long, long emails back and forth on this idea that I never wrote! Here’s a snippet of that exchange:

Harry thinks he only see Ginny as a little sister, so when she suddenly proposes that they become friends with benefits in uni, he’s floored and says they’re practically family. Blinded by her anger over the rejection, she kisses him so that he knows what he’ll be missing. Of course, he then realizes his attraction to her. As their physical relationship progresses, they develop feeeeeeelings (gasp!). But Ginny thinks she only wants a physical relationship and once they have sex, it'll get out of her system. Harry has to work to convince her that she actually wants more.

But the backdrop is that Ginny doesn't think she wants more than sex is that when she was 11, she was kidnapped by Tom Riddle for as a kid (they met at the park a lot, and none of her brothers/Harry/anyone realized he'd been "befriending" her). Kid Harry figures out where Riddle took her and saves her.

Ginny wasn’t molested but she/Harry/everyone else is deeply affected by this event even though they don't realize it. Ginny thinks she's overcome it, and she's still a BAMF some the books but she's not fully over it as shown by her fear of being emotionally involved with Harry. It's why Harry refuses for a long time to think of her anything else outside of a brotherly way.

Ginny has a really bad sexual experience (though it doesn't go all the way), and as a result she's disgusted by men (not scared), but doesn't feel any revulsion with Harry. After not being able to get close to any boy for a long time, she decides to proposition Harry. Harry, being noble, absolutely refuses at first, but she kisses him, he's very attracted to her, and is convinced by her that he's helping her get over this tick. So it's FWB but it fits their personalities, and still stays true to the Ginny is subconsciously afraid of a real relationship/intimacy with Harry, who realizes he wants more but doesn't know if just getting to be physical is more than he'll ever deserve and he wants what he can get if not real love from her - until, of course, he realizes he can't do it anymore and she has to decide if she's brave enough to actually let herself feel.

HAHA omg I’m reading over my emails and I talk about getting into The Changeling and only sleeping 4/5 hrs a night and then the exchange ends with my coming up with my alternate dimension idea of Harry getting thrown into the BWL!Neville universe. So you guys can see why this story never went anywhere despite several thousands words between me and my beta.

–

Whew, long post. Hope that satisfied your curiosity!

I’m honestly not sure there are any left, but let me know if you have any other wip asks! Though note that I will be rather absent in the near-future because of life.

#wip title game #anonymous #healer!ginny story #st. mungos #since feeling is first who pays attention #muggle au fwb #languishing wips #i'm not gone for good but will be gone for a little while #just popping my head in now and again #because life #hinny #harry/ginny

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4stars-uswnt · 4 years ago

Text

A Champ and a Superstar [Emily Sonnett x Reader]

requested by anon: could you do a emily sonnett where the reader is her gf and doesn’t play soccer but supports emily and meets the team for the first time :)

You make your way to the private box, guided by a couple of security guards. Taking your seat, you unbutton your black blazer, straighten out your jeans, and take off your sunglasses. You had just arrived at the SheBelieves Cup to watch the US take on Japan, but more importantly, you were there to watch your secret girlfriend, Emily Sonnett.

—————

For the past six months, you had been on tour all across the country for your first album, only seeing your girlfriend through the screen of your phone. But you had decided that in between shows, you’d stop by to watch and support her. Although you were still a small up and coming artist, your debut album had become increasingly popular in not only the states but around the world; there was even talk of a few Grammy nominees in your near future. Therefore, due to your newfound fame, the overwhelming amount of attention you’d received from the paparazzi, and the fact that you were an extremely private person, you and Emily both decided to keep your relationship under wraps for the time being, only telling your family and your manager.

—————

It was about twenty minutes before kickoff, when you receive a text from your publicist, letting you know that US Soccer and Fox Sports had found out about your presence and they wanted a quick interview. You sigh and lock your phone, knowing you won’t be able to get out of this one, as you knew your appearance would be a big deal not only because of your ‘celebrity status’ but also because you had been a huge public fan and advocate for the team.

A few moments later, a woman with a microphone and a cameramen enter your box, upon approval of your bodyguard. She explains to you the basic outline of her questions, and then signals for the camera to begin.

“Thanks, Julie. Today, we’re joined by singer and song-writer, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). How are you?”

“I’m doing good. Pretty excited to watch this match and support the team.” You respond with enthusiasm.

“Yes! I’ve seen your tweets. You’re a pretty big fan of the national team. How did that start?”

You continue to answer her questions, varying from your new album to your thoughts on the team. Meanwhile, down on the field, many of the USWNT players had noticed your interview playing on the big screen. Being big fans of you and your music, they were all surprised and freaking out that you were here watching one of their matches.

“Oh my gosh! Is that (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” Kelley points.

“Holy crap, it is.” Ashlyn gasps, and Ali rolls her eyes at her wife’s childish behavior, even though she was a huge fan of you herself.

“Her music makes me proud to be gay.” Pinoe smirks triumphantly, proud of the fact that she had been the one to introduce your album to the team.

By now, there were murmurs amongst the team of their favorite new artist sitting in the stands.

Rose pokes Emily on the shoulder, interrupting her juggling session.

“Hey, did you see (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is here?”

Emily immediately lets the ball drop to the ground and turns to her friend, eyes wide open.

“What!?” She exclaims. “She’s here? Like in the stadium?” Why hadn’t you told her you were coming?

“Yes, dummy. Right up there.” Rose points at the big screen, where you were just ending your interview. You give the camera one last smile, before the screen returns to the regular scoreboard.

Emily scans the stadium, searching for you. As soon as she sees you in your box, she finds you’re already looking at her. The defender gives you a small smile before tilting her head sideways, silently asking you what you were doing here. You only smirk and wink at her, before she has to return to the huddle, as the game is about to start.

—————

You sit back and relax, enjoying the play of both teams, occasionally checking your phone and responding to some emails. You clap and cheer at each of the three goals from the US, finding yourself getting emotional over Christen’s goal. As the game is coming to an end, and the US has clearly won, 3-1, you see Emily waving at you, calling you to come down to the field. You beam with excitement, turning to ask your bodyguard to escort you.

On your way down, you are stopped to sign some autographs and take some pictures, as you were easily recognizable, especially after your interview. But once the final whistle blew and the celebrations began, the crowd’s attention turns elsewhere, focussing on the stage where the award ceremony was starting.

Once the trophy was lifted, the players disperse across the field, some still celebrating with confetti, some taking pictures and interacting with fans, and others greeting friends and family. Emily Sonnett was one of the latter, as she made a beeline for you. You lean down over the railing, as your girlfriend approaches.

“Hey there, champ.”

“Hey there, superstar.” Emily smirks, knowing your disdain for the title. She watches as you roll you eyes, but before you could respond, Emily decides to make a bold move. She reaches up to cup your face, bringing you in for a chaste but sweet kiss. You bring your own hands up to the blondes face, caressing her cheeks, as the two of you pull away. Leaning your forehead against hers, you let out a small giggle.

“Did we just do that?”

Emily hums. “We just came out.”

Your smile widens, finally feeling truly happy.

—————

While you and Emily were stuck in your own little world, the rest of the USWNT watched on as the defender started talking to you, their jaws dropping, as the two of you kissed.

“Worms! How does your son know (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?!” Alex turned to Kelley, who was just as baffled as everyone else.

“I—I have no clue.” The freckled woman stutters.

“Wow. Sonny has more game than we thought.” Pinoe exclaims, Ashlyn nodding along in agreement, as the team continues to watch you and Emily.

—————

Your joyful bliss comes to a halt, as you peek over your girlfriend’s shoulder and see all of the players with their eyes on you.

“Ummm… we have a little bit of an audience.” Motioning towards the group of women, disregarding the hundreds of fans in the stadium and the thousands watching on TV.

Emily turns around to face her teammates, cringing at the looks they’re giving her. She looks back at you, nodding her head towards the team.

“You wanna meet them?”

Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets, and a knot forms in your throat. “Um, what?”

“C’mon, they just saw us kiss. They’re gonna wanna meet you.” Emily explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You nod in agreement, too nervous to actually speak. You had been a huge fan of this team and many of the players, like Alex Morgan, Christen Press, Megan Rapinoe, and Tobin Heath, since you were a young girl. These women were not only your idols but also some of the most important people in your girlfriend’s life, so it was no surprise that it felt as you were about to throw up your nerves.

Emily guides you down on to the field, your security not far behind, as you make your way towards the locker room. Walking down the hallway, you can hear the familiar tune of your most popular song, “Never Giving Up,” blaring from the room you are about to enter. You feel your face flush in embarrassment upon hearing your own lyrics. Your girlfriend rolls her eyes at her teammates purposeful choice of song, as she runs her hand up and down your back, trying to soothe your nerves.

“Don’t work yourself up, babe. They’re gonna love you. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re already pretty big fans of yours.” Emily kisses your blushing cheek.

As you enter the USWNT locker room, all conversation quiets, all dancing stops, and the music pauses, as all eyes were now on you. After a moment of silence, with no one really knowing where to begin, you hear Kelley whisper into Alex’s ear.

“Holy crap. That’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N). We’re in the presence of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Alex gives her best friend a slap on the shoulder, effectively silencing her.

“So you’re all probably wondering how I know (Y/N).” Emily starts, addressing her teammates and even the coaching staff, who are now listening. “Ummm, so here’s the thing… it’s just…I didn’t mean to keep this from you guys… but we agreed to keep it private…so don’t be too upset—”

“We’re dating!” You burst, unable to listen to your girlfriend stumble over her words any longer. At the confirmation of their suspicions, the team is left stunned into silence once again.

Lindsey breaks the stupor first. “Wait, let me get this straight. You, Emily Sonnett, the woman who face planted after tripping over nothing the other day, are dating (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the most popular singer at the moment who is undoubtedly up for a Grammy this year?”

Emily, who had been mentally following her friend’s words and connecting the dots, nods in affirmation. “Yup.” She exclaims, beaming pridefully, as she wraps her arm around your waist, kissing your temple.

“How?” Kelley blurts out, receiving another slap from Alex.

“Hey!” Emily protests, while you let out a snicker, poking your girlfriend’s side.

“Wait!” Ashlyn interrupts, and she narrows her eyes at you. “Even though we are big fans of you, and always have your album playing in the locker room, and we appreciate your support, and you’re part of the gayng…wait… I’m getting off track.” She shakes her head. “What are your intentions with our dear Sonny?” The other women, also curious, turn to you, awaiting your answer.

“Uhhhh… well I… ummm.” You struggle to form a sentence, as the gaze of the twenty-two women, many of whom you look up to, crumbles your confidence. It isn’t until you feel your girlfriend squeeze your waist and give you an encouraging smile that you find the appropriate words.

“I love her.” You state honestly, ignoring the look on Emily’s face, as this is the first time you’re saying those words. “Even though we’ve only been dating for a couple of months, I think I’ve known ever since our first date, despite Em almost ruining it by spilling wine on my dress.” You chuckle fondly at the memory before continuing. “She makes me laugh even when I don’t want to, and she comforts me when I’m sad. I’ve honestly never been happier than when I’m with her.” You reveal, and you take a deep breath. “So I guess my intentions are to love her, and exude the same light in her life as she shines in mine.”

Next to you, you see your girlfriend with misty eyes. She buries her face in your neck, peppering you with many kisses beneath your ear.

“I love you too.” She whispers for only you to hear, as she pulls away to gauge her teammates reaction, hoping for their approval.

“Well no wonder she’s a singer and song writer. That was freaking beautiful.” Ashlyn calls out.

“Yeah. No kidding.” Kelley huffs out, wiping her eyes of what you can’t tell to be real or fake tears.

Megan approaches the front of the room, now standing in front of you. “Thank god you’re a good one, kid. We liked you before, but now we absolutely love you. Some more than others.” She smirks at your girlfriend, before she boasts pridefully, “Y’know I was the one who introduced the team to your album.”

You tuck your head, almost not believing that Megan Rapinoe actually enjoys your music. “Thanks.”

“Well, now that your dating Sonny here, you’re officially part of the fam.” She looks back at her teammates for confirmation. “Right guys?!”

You hear a collection of ‘yes!’, ‘duh!’, ‘hell yeah!’, and ‘of course!’ come from the group of women.

You can’t help but beam at the thought of being accepted by the team.

“Thank you.” You whisper, snuggling further into Emily’s chest.

Looking down at you, she sweeps the hair out of your face. “For what?”

“Loving me.”

She softly grins, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnett imagine #emily sonnett imagines #uswnt #emily sonnett

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babi-correia · 4 years ago

Text

You’re My Sunshine

From Anon:

Hey girl! Would you mind doing another Jay Halstead pr maybe Jesse Lee Soffer imagine/one shot*? Maybe being the hidden girlfriend? Thanks hun!

Words: 2147 Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, canonical violence Pairing: Jay Halstead x Officer!Reader A/N: This ask has two viable one shots, actually. I did this one now, but I’ll probably pick up the JLS sometime in the future. Hope you like it, hun!

Deep down, both of you knew this day would come. The day when Voight barked out to bring a uniform up for an undercover stint, and the Intelligence member brought you up.

Jay tries to interfere and go with Adam as he goes to get one of the officers down at the lobby, but Voight quickly shuts him down, remembering him that Adam knew the suspect's type better than Jay. His jaw clenches and his hands close into fists as Adam goes down the stairs, already knowing you are going to be the one he brings up.

The two of you have been dating for a few months, and Jay liked having you to himself. By hiding your relationship, not only are the two of you not in the public eye for dating each other - the last thing you need is someone calling you a badge bunny and saying you're sleeping with Jay to climb the hierarchy - but you are also out of the line of immediate danger that comes with dating a law enforcement agent, inevitably becoming a target.

At first, Jay wasn't very keen on the idea of you: a new cop with shiny eyes and hope in the world; he knew you would be shattered by the job, and he didn't want to watch it. But then he started warming up to you. He couldn't pin down what you had done exactly, if it was how you refused to drop your kindness with Platt, or how you could offer an input that he hadn't seen, or how you would charge in, gun in hand with unwavering intent when someone's life was at risk... it was probably how you didn't try to take pity in him or treat him like a baby when you saw him having a particularly nasty flashback that made him freeze in the middle of the locker room. You had just grabbed his hands in yours and gently coaxed him out, giving him the visual help of the "Chicago Police Department" badge on your vest - you would never know how much it meant to him.

He had seen your determination falter over the time, but he always tried to make you get back up on the positivity horse; secretly, it kept him going too, the idea that someone could see so much good in the world and still believe in the best possible outcome. It was something rare and precious, in your line of work.

So, when Adam comes back to the bullpen with you in tow, Jay feels like punching him. He feels like going out on a solo manhunt and face the consequences of it, if it means that you won't be brought into this case. But he watches you walk into Voight's office and nod after the Sergeant explains what he called you up for. He knows that you would never refuse the opportunity to help other people - that's why you had become an officer in the first place.

He sits in his chair, resigned, as he watches you and Voight leave the office.

"So, officer (Y/L/N) will go undercover as an immigrant that needs help getting the rest of her family inside, no matter the cost." Voight says, pointing at the board. The pictures of 7 women are pinned in, their faces stuck in an eery, eternal smile, unknowing of the atrocities that committed against them. All they wanted was to give their families a better life.

Jay meets you in the locker room after he makes sure that no one saw the two of you entering, and crosses his arms.

"There's no chance I'm talking you out of this, is there?" He asks, his voice small and defeated. You turn back, already wearing your civilian clothes, and give him a reassuring smile as you lay your hands atop his forearms.

"I'm a good cop, and this will be over quickly." You say, lightly rubbing his arms. "It has to be done, they can't keep killing these women."

"What if something happens?" He asks, his brows furrowed - you don't quite grasp the seriousness and danger of this, and it worries him deeply. "It's more dangerous than you think."

"Jay... I've been a cop in Chicago for a while. A beat cop. I'm cussed at and thrown things at for existing. There, I'm going to be a girl that they're going to underestimate. The only way this can go wrong is if they figure out I'm a cop, and that's a risk every undercover takes, and that you have also taken several times." You grab his face. "It's going to be ok."

Unintentionally, you had jinxed yourself in your conversation with Jay. Not in a thousand years would you have thought that the measly drug dealer you arrested a couple weeks ago would be involved with a human trafficking ring, and when he saw you, you knew it was over. He shouted to everyone how you were a "pig", how you were there to arrest them all. You had stood your ground, unwavering, claiming you had never seen him before in your life and had no idea what he was blabbering about, but no one bought it. They ganged up on you and you knew that resistance was futile and would only hurt you further.

And now, 3 days later, here you are. Bruised, bloody, sweaty, laying on the cement floor of an abandoned warehouse somewhere by the river, in between torture sessions. The big boss doesn't know who you work for - all he knows is that you're with law enforcement. He's too paranoid and knows that CPD isn't the only one after him, and even though he knows you're CPD, he has no idea if you're working directly for them or if you've been "scouted" by a bigger agency.

Your mind rarely leaves your memories of Jay, trying to isolate and disassociate yourself from the prodding metal and angry fists connecting with the several different parts of your body. A small part of you hangs on to hope that Jay and the rest of Intelligence are coming for you, but the bigger part tells you that they either won't make it in time, or that they think you're already dead.

The footsteps in the hallway drag you out of your thoughts and you raise bloodshot eyes to glare at the grunt in front of you. He hastily pulls you up by one arm and drags you into another room, different from the one you had been beaten in. There's a hook hanging from the ceiling, but there's also a chair and some blades arranged neatly by the chair. The thing that jumps at you is the camera standing in the corner of the room, hooked to a computer, and aimed at the hook and chair. The grunt stands with you by the door as the boss walks into the room, walking with his usual swagger towards the camera.

"Since I don't know who my little toy is working for, here's what is going on: to whom it may concern, this bitch is at my mercy, and either her employer comes forward, or I'm going to kill her." He says darkly as the grunt drags you into further inside, near the hook.

You put on your best brave face as he hangs you in the hook by the bindings on your wrists. Your shoulders scream at you but you refuse to show pain. The boss sits on the chair next to you and the grunt leaves, making it just the two of you in the room. He grabs a small, yet sharp blade from the assortment and turns to you, smirking darkly.

"So, I'll ask you again. Who are you working for?"

"Your mom." You spit at him, biting your tongue to not cry out when the blade cuts across the skin in your stomach.

The mug in Jay's hand hits the floor the second he sees the screen of his computer taken over by a video of a dark, grimy room, with you hanging from a hook and a slimy-looking guy in a suit passing around you with a large blade in hand.

He knew to fear something bad when they stopped getting the daily debriefs from you, but part of him had been influenced by you into thinking it was the best-case scenario: maybe you had gone deep to the point of not being able to contact them, but were about to resurface with enough evidence to nail every single interferent in the trafficking ring. He feels his heart sink to his stomach and his legs threaten to give out as his gaze fixates on the screen. Your face is bloody and bruised, along with the rest of your body, but your expression is one of stubbornness; whatever the guy is asking of you, you're not complying.

"This would all be over much quicker if you told me who you're working for." The guy snarks, and your expression remains unchanging.

"We both know you're going to kill me either way, just get it over with. Besides, I already told you I'm working for your mom." His fist connects with your ribs and you give out a pained chuckle. Jay's fists close up as anger begins to boil and cloud his head. "Or maybe for Brutus over there. Maybe you're his Ceasar, and he's waiting for the right chance to stab you in the back thirty times. Now seems like a good time, Brutus."

Voight bolts out of his office, vest on one hand, and a post-it note on the other.

"A contact of mine got me an address. Let's role." He barks out sternly. Jay bolts out behind him and the whole team gets in the armory, putting on their vests and grabbing their choice of weapon before getting into the cars and driving towards the address Voight's contact had given him.

Jay checks his three guns yet again: one Glock 19 in his hip holster, one Glock 17 in his thigh holster, and an AK-47 in his hand. He knows every moment from breach is going to count, and the longer they take to get to you, the worse the outcome can be.

The car comes to a stop and he turns off the security in the AK, rolling his shoulders as he steps out of the car and stealths towards one of the entrances. He peeks through a window, seeing two grunts. He gestures what he saw towards the rest of the team and prepares for breach, kicking in the door when Voight says so.

He feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins and doesn't stop until he's passed the guarded area. The hallways are silent and he strains his ears, trying to pick up something, anything that will guide him to you.

In the room, you're still dangling from the ceiling when the loud noises snap the guy from yet another monologue about how it would be easier for you to just give up and blah blah blah. Honestly, you had started to tune out the moment he opened his mouth, already knowing some variation of what was about to leave his lips.

"Go check out whatever that was!" He barks at the grunt, making you focus on the door as the other man exits through it. Before you realize what's happening, a shot rings out and the grunt falls back into the room, making the boss jump in fright. You see Jay slowly stepping over the body, AK steadily trained on the suited guy standing by your legs.

"If you move another inch, I'm blowing your brains out." Jay growls out as the other man tries to reach for the gun on the chair. "My finger is feeling very, very trigger-happy, and I just need you to give me a reason to give it what it wants."

You feel tears prickling at your eyes, both of joy and of pent up frustration and fear, flinching when you see the man moving towards his gun and Jay delivering a clean shot to his chest, dropping him to the floor instantly.

The AK hits the floor with a clatter before Jay rushes to you, unhooking you and lowering you to the floor before wrapping you in a bear hug. You feel yourself starting to sob as you hide your face on his neck, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped by Jay and his scent surrounding you.

"I would die happy if I died like this." You mutter into his neck, feeling him chuckle as he pulls away.

"You're not dying anytime soon, I'll waltz in and save you every time." Jay says, retrieving his AK and slinging it over his chest before he picks you up. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me."

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years ago

Note

Wait, so if Jasper and Squishy get together, and Squishy becomes Jasper's guiding light, is Squishy the one to make Jasper aware that animal blood's an option? So Jasper never joins the Cullens, and he just hangs out with his tentacle monster lover? I mean, if they happen to come across the Cullens at all, I can only imagine Edward's reaction to Jasper and Squishy, and their everything. Would Edward think even more lowly of Jasper, for being with and fucking a tentacle monster? I bet he would.

Anon's referring to this post. In which I noted that in the right circumstances that, yes, Jasper would not only fuck a tentacle monster named Squishy but fall in love with it.

Apparently, anon wants details.

Jasper Meets Squishy

Well, Jasper's not doing too hot. He's utterly miserable, near suicidal, and is now routinely starving himself so as to avoid the pain associated with eating humans. The man's not doing good and everyone knows it.

Now, ordinarily, this is where Alice would have stepped in after waiting some twenty odd years. However, in this universe, Alice doesn't see Jasper in her future because Squishy inevitably will get to him first.

While in a starved daze, Jasper accidentally wanders through a tear in time and space (as one does), and comes across Squishy who, for the sake of this, must be able to telepathically communicate.

Well, this is all very strange and all, but Jasper just takes it as a sign of the end. He lies down to die, and perhaps be eaten by a tentacle monster, he doesn't even know.

Well, Squishy feels just awful about that, and decides to feed Jasper some of the other Lovecraftian denizens of this eldritch dimension Jasper's currently in. This works, it's not quite as good as eating people, but Jasper feels a) fractionally better b) didn't feel the emotion of his victims.

My god.

Squishy and Jasper then get to talking and Squishy tells Jasper he doesn't have to live in utter agony and can become a better person if he tries.

Jasper and Squishy become fast friends and fast lovers. Jasper doesn't question this.

So, yes, Squishy gives him the diet.

Does He Join Up with the Cullens?

Could go either way. Now emboldened and in love, Jasper may seek out others potentially on the diet. Squishy could also have some gift of prophecy and point them in Carlisle's direction or they could just come across them while wandering around these United States.

Jasper doesn't need it though the same way he did in canon and Squishy certainly doesn't need the Cullens, so it's not a high priority, but it could happen.

What Do the Cullens Think?

Jasper is now the only vampire outside of the Denali to have discovered the diet independently and stuck to it. Carlisle's thrilled. It's Christmas.

However, on the other hand, he sleeps with a tentacle monster he calls Squishy. That's...

You know what? Carlisle can look past that. He looked past the Denali eating their lovers for a thousand years, he can look past this.

SO GLAD TO MEET YOU, JASPER, AND SQUISHY, SURE JOIN THE COVEN.

Edward, of course, is utterly appalled. On the diet or not, this Jasper fellow is a reprobate and utterly vile. Not only was he the most vampiric vampire one could find for many decades, only turning away from blood because of his gift, but he's actively committing bestiality with no hint of remorse. This man is disgusting.

Jasper doesn't give a fuck what Edward thinks.

Or any of the others for that matter.

(Rosalie, for the record, is nearly vomiting every time she sees Squishy, Emmett tries and fails to be cool with it and nearly cries when Jasper tells him about his sex life, and Esme keeps feeding Squishy cookies.)

I imagine Jasper debates leaving, but Squishy seems to like it here, and he enjoys watching the Cullens squirm. When Bella enters the picture, Edward desperately tries to pretend Jasper doesn't exist. This, of course, fails when Jasper personally introduces Bella to Squishy.

Bella, being the strange person she is, is totally cool with that. Edward tries to tell himself that this is proof that Bella's even more saint-like than he imagined. For she can look with kindness upon even Jasper and... Squishy.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #jasper whitlock #squishy #jasper/squishy #meta #headcanon #opinion

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