#Carden x reader
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𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝑯𝒄𝒔



Sleeping;
Feel like he's sometimes annoying when he sleeps
He's not like other book bfs where he's just clingy and cuddly,
No no, this man will probably be snoring one second and then a cute, little, cuddly, menace, the next
He'll snore sometimes, but softly (not too loud bc I can't have one of my fav fictional characters giving me the ick)
He'll just be sprawled across the bed, gripping your hand in his sleep, snoring softly, and just saying a bunch of shit that doesn't make sense (incoherent queen 😩🥺)
Poetic bastard;
Mr. "By you I am forever undone", has some tricks up his sleevessss
He'll randomly try to rizz you up with his Shakespearean ass vocabulary when you guys are finally in a established relationship
I can't think of anything poetic he might say so I'll leave it at that for now
So cute and demure in the human world;
He wouldn't really know what anything is when he visits,
So you'd definitely need to teach him,
But strangely enough he knows random ass shit like Lana deal Rey and Taylor Swift
He'd be like "Yeah, ig these mortals have tolerable music",
Meanwhile he blasts Red (Taylor's Version) at any minor inconvenience
Like ok, Mr. "Well maybe this thing was a masterpiece till you tore it all up"
Like yeah ok, Mr. "Perfectly fine" after you guys have a small ass disagreement and he's already halfway through Norman Fucking Rockwell
I love him.
These were random ass headcanons and I was gonna do spicy ones but idc bc it's almost 3 am
Let me know if I should do spicy headcanons bc I already have some creative ideas that include his tail...
#my writing#writeblr#fanfic#headcanon#heacanons#carden greenbriar#bookish#booklr#fictional men#fantasy#fantasy novel#fae#fae folk#faerie#the cruel prince#Madoc#jude duarte#high king cardan#high king of elfhame#high queen of elfhame#Elfhame#sjmaas#throne of glass#Carden x reader#greenbrair carden#when he has a tail#the wicked king#the queen of nothing#men with tails#Carden Greenbriar x reader
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"His eyes were alluring, though his features and soft wrinkles on his forehead and face showed his age. Yet, you could still see that he was quite charming and attractive. He had an unconventional allure, but a subjective attractiveness nonetheless."
#the band ghost#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#ghost#cardenal copia#papa copia art#swiss ghoul#popia#popia copia#papa popia#cardinal copia art#copia emeritus#copia x reader#ghost copia#papa copia#copia my beloved#copia#copia x oc#ao3 fanfic
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Must you be so cruel?
Cardan Greenbriar x fae!princess!reader
a/n: this concept was most requested so here you are. warnings: swearing, no smut (unless y’all want a part 2 with some😏lmk), not proofread I have like six more to write
As your steads stop for water, your mother approaches you.
“We are almost there.” She grins excitedly.
you roll your eyes as you fix your riding skirt.
“yay.” You say, unenthusiastically. Your mother had arranged a ball with the High Court, you suspected she was trying to marry your older sister off to one of the princes. But you dreaded seeing a particular prince with a stupid rat tail.
“Don’t take an attitude with me, y/n” your mother warned, “we need to be on our best behavior. We mustn’t insult the High King or Queen.”
Your mother made you changed once you made it to the Palace. Your dress was black as to not outshine your sisters. As you walked into the Throne room, you spotted the king and queen but no sign of that dreaded prince.
You make your way to the King and bow as your parents exchange pleasantries.
After your mother turns to you “Go grab your sister some wine.”
“Why? She has legs.” You said as you smooth down the ruffles of your skirt.
“She is talking to Prince Dain. I will not interfere with the makings of an engagement.” Your mother said sternly.
you sigh, “yes ma’am.”
As you make your way to the banquet table, you look around at the folk dancing. Trying to shield your eyes from the naked folk, you grab a glass and have a servant fill it with wine.
You look back and see your sister dancing with Prince Dain, and you smile to yourself. Even though your mother made you come here and has been driving you crazy, it’s nice to see your sister radiant smile light up the dance floor.
The glass being rather useless now that she’s dancing, you start to down the drink when someone clears there throat.
“It’s unlady like to chug wine 30 minutes into a ball.” Nicasia said sharply. “You filthy half breed.”
you turn dreading facing her. When you look, she’s wearing a body hugging blue dress and a face of pure disgust.
“Mermaid style dress? That’s a bit on the nose isn’t it?” You say continuing to sip from your glass.
“Why are you even here?” She spits, seemingly losing her patience even though she approached you.
“She was invited unfortunately.” A voice behind you called.
You freeze. God damn it. You turn around to find Cardan’s gold rimmed eyes staring back at yours.
“Cardan.” You acknowledge, turning back to watch your sister.
“Y/n. Is your mother trying to push your boring sister onto my brother?” He asked as Nicasia laughs moving to link arms with him.
“Must you be so cruel?” You ask, annoyed.
“Only to you.” He replied.
“I’m not completely sure of my mother’s intentions, I haven’t asked.” You say, finishing your glass. “Afraid of your reputation if you become related to a half mortal?” You ask, motioning for a servant to get you another glass.
“I’d be disgusted to be related to you.” He says as Nicasia laughs.
A grin spreads across you face as an idea comes to your head.
“Why?” You ask with an innocent grin.
“must there be a reason? That’s a reason enough.” He replied.
“Yes, I’m curious. Why would you be disgusted to be related to me?” You ask.
“Most far find the existence of half bloods disgusting.” He said brushing if off
“Yes most of the folk. What about you though? What’s your real reason for not wanting to be related to me?” You smirk.
His smirk momentarily drops before regaining his composure.
“My opinion of you.” He says before grabbing Nicasia’s hand and pulling her to dance. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving.”
you laugh to yourself as a servant puts the wine glass back in your hand.
—————————
Later that night as the ball is winding down, your Mother asks you to retrieve your sister.
You look around the dance floor to no avail, no sign of her.
Walking out of the hall, you make your way into hallway. Looking around and opening seemingly endless doors, grew tiresome.
As you give up and walk back to the banquet hall, you feel a hand on your shoulder.
“Your boring sister is in my brothers room.” A drunken voice called.
turning to see Cardan with the gold juice of fae fruit smeared on his lips while the smell of wine on his mouth. He looks at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before.
“Oh.” You say, realizing you’ll have to explain to your mother that your sister is spending the night with the prince. But then you realize Cardan has not moved his hand from your shoulder.
Quickly pushing his hand off you, he stumbles grabbing ahold of your arm to stabilize himself.
“Cardan how much have you had to drink?” You asked annoyed.
“I lost count after 12 glasses.” He said as he focused back on your face. “And why’d you have to shove me?” He whined.
“Oh you’re such a baby.” You say, using your arm to support him as you guide him to walk.
“Where are we going?” He asked leaning on you.
“Your room, you need to be put to bed before you hurt yourself.” You say dragging him through the corridor.
“But I left my wine goblet.” He says trying to pull you back to the alcove he emerged from.
“If you go back for it, I’ll leave you there and you can pass out on the floor for all I care.” You say letting go of him.
“Fine.” He huffs.
As you reach his room you open the door and close it behind you. You push him onto the bed and he laughs looking up at you.
“That’s not how I imaged it.” He laughs, eyes glazed over.
“Imagined what?” You asked as you move to leave.
“You pushing me onto the bed.” He replied as if it was common knowledge.
You mule over the words in your head. He seems more honest when drunk. Before you can stop yourself, you find your self asking.
“Why would you hate it if we were related?”
“My thoughts of you would be considered inappropriate. The thoughts I don’t want to have.” He relied his eyes getting droopy.
“What do you think about me?” You ask.
“The thought of you in my arms.” He said as his eyes shut.
You stare there for a minute, processing this new information. You wait until you hear soft snoring before opening the door and turning to find your mother.
~~~~~~~
#carden greenbriar#holly black#the cruel prince#carden greenbriar x reader#Carden#the cruel prince x reader#cardan greenbriar x reader#cardan greenbriar
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@warneraaronanderson @kenjik1shimoto
@highking-cardan
#shatter me books#incorrect shatter me quotes#shatter me spoilers#shatter me fanfic#shatter me#bookaholic#books & libraries#bookworm#aaron warner x reader#aaron x reader#aaron warner anderson#aaron warner#kenji x nazeera#kenji kishimoto#kenji#nazeera ibrahim#juliette ferrars is a sweetheart#juliette ferrars#carden greenbriar#foryou#fictional characters#mutuals#tahereh mafi#holly black#lyhfml#ignite me#shatter me x reader#restore me#reveal me#the cruel prince
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Chosen




It wasn't supposed to end this way;
With heavy betrayal hanging in the air.
One year and a single day,
This isn't something I think she can bear.
🖤
A thousand promises broken.
Trust isn't a common currency here.
Soo many feelings unspoken,
And that's how it'll remain for the next seven years.
🖤
You wanted power,
You wanted safety and revenge.
You achieved it all with your soul devoured;
A black heart, unable to repent.
🖤
I didn't want it to end like this;
With him betrayed and you broken.
I had put all my hopes on a kiss,
But you chose the choices you've chosen.
~🖤~🖤~🖤~🖤~
~My pov~
Hello loves, my exams are finally rounding up and I can breathe. I have soo many poems I wanna share with y'all and insha'Allah I will. This is inspired from the first book of the folk of air series; CRUEL PRINCE🖤
Hope you like it. Tell me if you'd like poems from the remaining books yeah?
Next poem: Juggler
My cruel tag list: @jayrealgf @think-through-pen @think-inpoetry @unforgettable-sensations @timeflieslikebanana @jordynelectricboogaloo @jordynhaiku @moonandbackprincess @moonlitpoems @mk-ranz @haikudude @hauntedjellyfishtraveler @hollyblack
#poetry#cruel prince#folkofairseries#folk of air series#readers pov#poems from bookd#poems#literature#writing#poem#poems on tumblr#poet#poetic#poets on tumblr#animals#carden*jude#jude x cardan#carden x jude#the cruel prince#carden greenbriar#jude duarte#loved this book sm#love#tfota#tfota poem#holly black#love poetry#rhyme poetry#imaginative poetry
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My fanfiction info~!
Whattup! I'm Barrett and i write fanfiction!
I currently write for:
Pete Wentz
Patrick Stump
Joe Trohman
Andy Hurley
William Beckett
Adam Siska
Mike Carden
Michael Guy Chislett
The Butcher
Ryan Ross
Jon Walker
Dallon Weekes
I will write:
Fluff!!
X readers/ocs!!
Angst
Romance
Platonic
Family
I WILL NOT write:
Smut
Ships
Basic dni stuff
Anything that makes me uncomfy :/
My requests are OPEN!!
My masterlist:
#fall out boy#fall out boy x reader#patrick stump#patrick stump x reader#pete wentz#pete wentz x reader#joe trohman#joe trohman x reader#andy hurley#andy hurley x reader#the academy is...#william beckett#william beckett x reader#adam siska#adam siska x reader#ryan ross x reader#ryan ross#jon walker#jon walker x reader#mike carden#mike carden x reader#michael guy chislett#michael guy chislett x reader#the butcher#the butcher x reader#dallon weekes#dallon weekes x reader
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D’Arcy Carden Masterlist
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Read at your own risk, although there will be warnings at the beginning of my fics!
smut: **
general masterlist | taglist
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Greta Gill

Christmas Morning **
Red Wine Supernova
Red Wine Supernova Part Two (Coming Soon)
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you’re making a post with cardan and it’s a wholesome garden date? 🥹🥹🥹
yes I am! I’m not sure when it’ll be finished though because I’m also working on other stuff 😔
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The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 24

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Story Summary:��Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.
Chapter Title: The Baker And The Monk.
Notes: Looking back, I'm surprised how big this story got. Wasn't my intention lol.
Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.
Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!
Word count of this fic: +250K
Chapter: 24/47
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The others were still asleep in the morning when you had gone downstairs in the inn to drink some soup and enjoy a peaceful quiet moment alone before having to face the Monk again. Where to go from here? What with Percival, did he still have parents or was the boy on his own? There were a lot of things to think about and it was hard to come to a solid decision or plan. Your peaceful moment alone was interrupted when a man approached the table you were sitting at.
“I noticed you are sitting alone, care for some company to talk to?” He seemed rather friendly.
You were in doubt. “I fear I will not be very talkative.”
He did not give up just yet. “I’m quite the opposite, if you wish to offer a listening ear I might entertain you?”
It was starting to intrigue you. “What would you speak of?”
The man was an open book. “My successes and failures as a baker.”
“Fine.” You decided. “Take a seat. Start with the failures.”
He chuckled and took the chair opposite of you. This baker, whom was named Charles, was a friendly fella that loved to chat with anyone who would listen. Hearing how the life of another was so different compared to yours was refreshing. There was no talk of paladins or the war. It was just a baker speaking of his occupation with an enthusiasm not many still had. For just a moment, you forgot about your own situation and let yourself be carried into the story of another. That lasted until you saw the man look at something behind you, the Monk had came down the stairs and his attire was drawing attention. His attention however was solely on you, and how quickly you were to get to your feet and hurry over to him.
“Your surcoat!” you quietly scolded. “Do you want everyone to know we are hiding in this inn?!”
As you pulled at his arm to lead him back up the stairs, the innkeeper caught your eye and beckoned you over. With a small heart you went over to her.
She was drying off a tankard. “I was under the impression that you didn’t want anyone to notice he was here.”
It was a correct assumption. “You’re right, I’ll talk to him.”
“He’ll bring trouble in those clothes.” She nodded in his direction.
The Monk was watching the conversation, still waiting for you by the stairs. You were aware it was pulling attention to him. “It’s not our intention to-”
She put the linen towel down. “Follow me through the kitchen. I may have something in my quarters, he looks the size of my late husband.”
That was an offer you did not reject, you made eye-contact with the Monk and tilted your head to call him over. He understood the silent request and crossed the large room to where you were waiting.
“The innkeeper may have some less holy clothes for you.” you told him.
Before he could react to the jest, the innkeeper spoke up.
“The name is ‘Amelia’.” She proceeded to lead you through the kitchen of the inn, another door was opened and led into her large quarters. Amelia went to the large wardrobe and opened it’s doors. “Pick out a couple of clothes. Come back to the inn when you’re done.”
You thanked her as she walked past, she murmured something about how her late husband wouldn’t need them anymore. Her generosity was surprising, perhaps she had not always been as fortunate as she was now. The Monk had not set one foot in the direction of the wardrobe.
“Go on. See if you can find something in there for you.” you encouraged.
Slowly he walked to the wardrobe, and tentatively touched a shirt. “It was not my intention to cause you trouble. I had not considered that my clothes would be so noticed here.”
You strolled around the room somewhat impatiently. “A monk in an inn will always draw attention.”
He hummed in agreement. “I had not even noticed.”
That was strange to hear considering how perceptive he could be. “That isn’t like you, often you were the first to notice something out of the ordinary.”
The truth escaped him when he picked up a light grey shirt that interested him. “When I woke and saw that you were no longer in the room with us, my only concern was finding you.” The weight of his confession hit a second later, he almost looked in your direction but stopped himself just in time. A black leather jerkin caught his eye next and he took it from under the stack of clothes on top of it.
“You thought I had run off again.” you stated what was so obvious now.
He swallowed hard and shook some dust from the jerkin. “Yes.”
“I would.” You crossed your arms over your chest, finally daring to face him. “But you did not arrive here alone, there is a child up in that room who needs someone to look after him. Where are his parents?”
The Monk told you what the boy had mentioned to him. “They’re gone.”
It wrangled at your heart to hear it. “What now?”
Not even he seemed to know what to do, it wasn’t like he had experience with raising and looking after children, because even though Percival acted mature for his age he was still just a boy under that hardened character.
He walked towards the bed in the room and put down his choice of clothing, then began to take off his cloak. “He picked up a sword to fight the Trinity Guard, to save me. I will do all that is in my power to ensure he will be safe.”
“How?” It slipped out.
His hands slowed down on their task, his voice got quieter. “I had hoped to not be the only one watching over Percival’s well-being. He could use someone gentle of heart.”
It clicked right away what he was suggesting. “Using a child as leverage to keep me with you?” You scoffed and turned to head towards the door.
He caught you by the arm to stop you. “What must I do for you to forgive me?”
You pulled yourself free from his hold. “Stop trying to stop me every time I want to get away from you, that would be a good start! If you let me be free, I might be more inclined to seek out your company.”
It was something he would need to learn, to let what he was so protective over run free in this world full of dangers he had hoped to shield you from.
His hand moved along your arm until it could take hold of your hand. “It does not have it’s roots in trying to have control over you. I-…” A long pause fell. “I felt the loss of you for a day and it was worse than any punishment forced upon me. Hate me, scream at me, harm me… I surrender to your will. But I beg you, stay.”
You were hoping he could not feel how your body was trembling in response to his plea. “Lancelot, I don’t know if I can after what happened.”
He knew why you were so cautious towards him. “I needed no order from Father to wish for your trust. I meant what I said to you once, you are important to me.”
“Because I was the key to achieving Father Carden’s praise and love for you.” It came out bitter.
“No.”
“No?”
He stepped away. It wasn’t until he continued to dress down that you noticed how much his hands were shaking. “Your presence brings me solace.”
You crossed your arms again, hugging yourself for some comfort. “I hope this is not some elaborate plan to regain my trust and take me back to the paladins.”
He almost looked over his shoulder to you. “Do you think so low of me?”
Your eyes turned cold. “Why do you think that is?”
He swallowed his tongue.
You sighed. “But I trust Percival to be truthful.”
Not him… of course not.
You hated how you couldn’t help but look when he bared his torso and let the ruined clothes drop to the floor. “Your wounds look better than they did last night.”
It was as if he had already forgotten them when he looked down at his healing injuries. “I owe it to your kindness. I doubt you had ointment at hand to use.”
So he knew you must have went out and searched for herbs to make the ointment. It told him you still must have felt a form of attachment towards him. “You’re lucky I know how to make one.”
He slipped the shirt on and inspected its fit. “Indeed.”
To distract yourself, you strolled around the room a little. “Just so you know, I will be referring to you by your actual name in this place. It is best we do not draw attention to ourselves. I hope others here did not figure out already that you are a monk, it would starts rumors and rumors can spread to the paladins and lead them here.”
He had not a single objection to that. “That is alright.”
Suddenly he winced, a pained sound escaped him when he had tried to put the jerkin on.
You approached him right away. “Let me help.”
Again, he had not a single objection when you began to close the leather belts of the jerkin. When you gave a stronger tug on one of them, a chuckle fell out of him. “Is this an attempt to murder me?”
You rolled your eyes at the jest. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
The smile remained on his lips. He almost seemed to enjoy the slightly rougher handling.
“What happens now? Will Father Carden not wish for you to return?” you asked.
He was not sure what to expect. “I do not know. But returning will not be possible, news will have spread of my heritage by now.”
You finished closing the last belt and took a small step back. “And if they were to want you back…?”
He shook his head. “With broken faith? And after what I did? The only reason they would want me back is to kill me.” His eyes locked on your face. “Besides that reason, I know that if I were to return to them you would never forgive me.”
It was a correct assumption. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”
He gave a nod. “It goes without saying that we should stay out of the sights of paladins. And I will try to see if I can find us a place that will be safer than here.”
Easier said than done. “Won’t be simple. We have not much more than horses and the weapons you carry.”
“We have coin.” He said oh so matter-of-factually, as if you knew what he was speaking of.
“What?” you blurted out.
He was confused for a second. “I-… I always have a pouch of coin with me as I travel. One never knows when it is needed.” Upon seeing your expression change, he asked, “Were you concerned there was none to survive on?”
Him having coin did not mean it would help you too. “Well, it’s your coin. Not mine.”
A frown creased his forehead. Realization hit. “Do you truly think that I would not share what I have with you? What is mine, is yours. You are my wife.”
You took a step away and handed him back his cloak. “Our marriage is nothing but an arrangement that has benefited everyone but myself.”
He held the cloak in his hand, feeling frozen in time and place. “Then it is time I prove what benefits this arrangement will provide for you.”
It had you mildly intrigued, but you didn’t dare to show it. “Put your cloak back on. I hope Percival is still upstairs in the room.”
He did as asked. “He was still asleep when I came to find you.”
You headed for the door to the kitchen, him speaking your name made you stop. He came closer again, stopping right in front of your nose. He intended to take hold of your hand but you moved it back a little and it made him abandon the idea.
He spoke in a quiet manner, “If it would put your mind at rest, I will go and fetch the coin from Goliath’s saddlebag and put it in your possession?”
You blinked. “Maybe you should fetch that pouch from the saddlebag before someone else does?”
His expression changed instantly, as if he had not even thought about the possibility of someone stealing it. “I-… One moment.”
Lancelot walked out of the room, through the kitchen and the inn, to outside. After everything, it was not strange for it to be forgotten or overlooked. It was also somewhat amusing to see him hurry out of the inn because of it. You on the other hand went back up the stairs up to your room after thanking Amelia and asking her for two bowls of broth. When you went inside, you found Percival starting to wake up. The scent of the broth was enough to wake him up fully.
“Good morning.” You handed him a bowl.
Percival mumbled the same in reply and went towards the bed. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he saw you point at the table. With a small sigh, he took place at the table to eat his broth. Just as he sat down, Lancelot entered the room and he went straight over to you. A pouch was put into your hand before you could even think to protest it.
Percival eyed you curiously. “What’s that?”
He told the boy the truth, “Coin.”
Percival’s eyes fell on the pouch again, slightly widened and very interested.
Lancelot noticed it right away. “She has a satchel to carry it in.”
The idea he fed was clearly aimed at you, but you were still a bit taken aback by the weight of the pouch that he had put into your hand. Never had Aldith or Cassian let you carry this much coin on you, they were quick to take it if they knew you had some savings. And for it to just be put into your hands now like it was nothing…
Even the boy had noticed the strange familiarity between you and him. “Are you friends?”
Your attention snapped to Percival, who was looking between you and Lancelot like he was trying to figure it out. Lancelot did not answer, he was looking at you to see what you would say. The last thing you wanted to do was alarm the boy by telling him that the friendship between you and Lancelot had come to a sour end not long ago, Percival barely knew the two of you and it would make more uncomfortable questions arise.
“We are.” you said, and noticed how relieved Lancelot looked.
“How?” Percival looked at Lancelot. “You killed the Fey, then how come you’re friends with her?”
Again he looked at you for an answer, but this time you gave him a look back that let him know that this was his answer to give. Lancelot struggled to explain it. “Father made an exception for her.”
The boy fired another question, “Why?”
He kept looking at you for help in this. “Because she is Ash Folk, as I am.”
“He only let Ash Folk live?” Percival frowned.
“The broth is getting cold. Eat Percival.” You turned to Lancelot. “The other bowl is yours.”
Lancelot was quick to ask, “Have you eaten?”
You gave a nod. “I had soup before you came down to the inn.”
Only then did he take the offer of the broth and took place opposite of Percival. You stashed the pouch of coins into your satchel.
You sat down on the bed for a moment, then let yourself fall back onto the mattress to look up at the ceiling. “You could use some more of that medicine I have given you, Lancelot. Charles told me that the market in this village is available for wares here everyday.”
His spoon stilled midway to his mouth. “ ‘Charles’?”
“The baker I was talking to before you came down the stairs.” you informed.
He continued to eat. “You wish to visit this market then?”
Your eyes closed. “I think it is necessary, that medicine will dull the pain for now, but when it wears off…”
“It would indeed be wise to be prepared.” He agreed to the idea. “Shall we go after this meal?”
Percival gave a ‘yes’ with his mouth stuffed full, earning a scolding look from the Ash Man.
“That’s fine.” you stretched your arms behind your head, enjoying the soft bed. Humming contentedly. A slight cold chill crept over the skin of your waist where it was exposed by your clothes that had moved up a little, it was not bothersome.
“Don’t you like the broth?” Percival suddenly asked.
You turned your head to look at the table and saw how Lancelot turned his head towards the boy. Percival was looking at him curiously, and perhaps hopeful that he would get the other bowl of broth for himself. Lancelot cleared his throat, and took a spoonful of the broth in his mouth in response to that. You smiled at the hint of disappointment in Percival’s expression and made a mental note to make certain the boy would have a proper set of meals every day as long as you could provide him with such.
~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~
The walk to the market was rather odd, you had to keep a focused eye on Percival who showed a tendency to wander off alone. Lancelot did not seem all too comfortable among the busy crowd, he was constantly looking around himself.
“Try to be calm.” you told him. “You’ll hurt your neck if you keep turning it so much.”
He picked up on the jesting tone. “How can you be so calm?”
You stopped at a stall with small curiosities. “I’ve spend days living among the enemy. It’s nothing new.”
It was a small lie. Being among a crowd was causing you distress but you did not want to draw attention, so you pretended all was well.
Lancelot noticed Percival had taken an interest in a stall a little further away and caught the boy by the vest before he could disappear in the crowd. “Remain in my sight.”
“It’s not my fault if your eyes are bad.” Percival bluntly said.
He took on a more firmer tone. “Stay.”
Percival rolled his eyes and came to stand a little closer to you, looking down at all the small bits and trinkets on the stall. Visiting a market was something you had not done in quite some time and it was the first time you weren’t doing it alone.
“I can see a stall further up ahead that is selling medicine.” Lancelot informed you.
He leaded the way to the stall, a friendly old lady was selling some basic necessities for those who dabbled in medicine. There was a certain set of herbs that you needed to make more of that ointment you had made but the seller had no stock of it. Another trip into the forest for them would be warranted. Fortunately she did have a few vials of medicine for when Lancelot’s fever and pain would return. When it was time to pay, for the first time you found out just how much there was actually in the pouch of coins. The small gasp from you made the others look.
Lancelot came closer, noticing your startled reaction to the contents of the pouch, by doing so he blocked the view others could have on it. “May I?”
Was he truly asking if he could use his own coin to pay for the medicine? It was such a ludicrous thing. “Of course.”
He took two small coins out and handed them to the seller whilst putting the pouch back into the safety of your satchel, then put the vials into it as well. Your attention was pulled away from him when Percival lightly tugged at your sleeve.
“Can we get a sweetroll?” The boy asked so very carefully.
Out of reflex you looked at Lancelot for an answer, before reminding yourself that he had said that the coin was yours just as much as it was his. “I believe we can?”
A sweetroll, after how brave the child had been to step into the Trinity Guard fight with him? It was the very least he could give in return.
Lancelot noted the doubt and put your mind at ease. “Yes.” He relied on his nose to find what the boy was asking for. “Over there.”
For you it was still hard to distinct all the scents, especially in a place so filled with all sorts of kinds.
Lancelot gave Percival an encouraging nudge against the back once at the stall that sold the sweetrolls. “They are fresh.” Then he looked at you with a knowing look. “Can you tell?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“No?” he asked curiously.
There was no ill intent behind his question, you could tell. This was just him being curious how well your sense of smell was now.
Percival pointed at a sweetroll, one that looked a little larger than the others of course. “I want that one.”
Lancelot hoped to improve Percival’s manners and corrected his way of asking for something. " ‘May I have that one?’ "
Percival did not pick up on what was being gently taught to him. “I saw it first.”
You turned your head, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.
“I meant-” Lancelot sighed, but he did not want to make this more confusing. He would speak to the boy about this later. “Alright.”
Percival became far more cheery when he could eat his sweetroll on the way back to the inn. On your way there, the path got more crowded with people, and after having been alone so often the crowd felt overwhelming. Seeing a threat coming felt impossible like this. People were almost walking against or into you constantly, the many voices flooded your ears, you began to lose sight on where you were and where you were going. Your heart was beating too fast, there was not enough air getting into your lungs. What on earth was happening…
“Are you alright?” Percival suddenly asked.
No. No, you were not. “I…”
Just before someone else could walk into you, Lancelot placed himself close to you, using his form as a barrier against the crowd. “What is wrong? You look unwell.”
It felt embarrassing to say it. “There’s too many people.”
Lancelot looked around him for a moment and spotted a smaller and less crowded path. “We’ll take that path instead. Come.”
You barely registered that he had placed a hand on your back to guide you along. The second you were out of the crowd, you leaned against a wall to recover.
Percival looked so very worried. “Are you sick?”
“No. I’m not used to being around so many people so closely anymore.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask why that was. “I can’t even see if there’s paladins around.”
Lancelot spoke. “Do not worry. I will notice them.”
He saw the look in your eyes change, it twisted a dagger into his gut. You did not trust that he would warn you if he saw paladins…
The boy touched your arm to comfort you. “It’s alright.”
No one expected for Percival to offer you the last bit of the sweetroll, it instantly made you feel a bit better.
“No, thank you.” you refused the sweet offer. “Did that sweetroll make you so sweet, or were you always like this?”
Percival’s face flushed a little, especially when he saw the slight grin on Lancelot’s face who saw it happen.
Lancelot came closer, supporting you by the arm to see if you were stable enough to walk. “Are you certain you do not wish for something to eat or drink?”
You pried his fingers loose from your arm. “I’ll be alright. Let’s get back to the inn before we run into paladins.”
The Ash Man kept a sharp eye on you whilst the three of you walked back to the inn. Percival and him picked out the lesser crowded paths and at some point you ended up on a narrow cobblestone street. Houses were build left and right in a long line and at the end of that street was a blacksmith working at his forge.
Lancelot came to a halt. “Do you mind stopping here for a moment?”
Of course he would be curious to see what sort of weapons this village had to offer. “Go ahead.”
He gave a grateful tilt of the head and approached the blacksmith, you and Percival followed suit.
“Good day.” The blacksmith gave a greeting nod and halted his work, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“Good day.” Lancelot greeted just as polite. “Do you have wares for sale?”
“I do.” The blacksmith pointed at the house beside the forge. “My daughter keeps charge of the shop. Feel welcome.”
Whilst walking the short distance to the shop, you discreetly handed Lancelot the pouch. “In case you need it.”
He tucked it under his sword belt, in those few seconds Percival had already walked into the shop and reminded you both that this child would walk right through fire if there was something he wanted on the other side. Lancelot followed him inside immediately and grabbed hold on the back of the boy’s jacket. One look at the boy and Percival knew that Lancelot was serious about staying in sight.
A woman who looked your age was cleaning one of the many swords inside the store, she halted her task right away when she saw Lancelot. “Hello, is there something you seek? We have many weapons a man such as yourself would love to have.”
You noticed how it took her a little too long to even notice you were in the store too, not that she seemed to care, her eyes were glued to Lancelot from the second he had stepped inside. It irked you, a feeling you suppressed, this woman had done you no wrong.
“A sword.” he answered her.
She gestured for him to follow and leaded him to a wall with swords on display. “See something you like?”
Oh, it could not be more obvious that she was not talking about the swords then. Even Percival noted an undertone in her voice and looked up at her questioningly. The Ash Man said nothing, his gaze waved over the wall of swords and then he picked one off of the wall. He created some distance and spun the sword in his hand a few times.
“No.” he said, dissatisfied. The sword was placed back and another was put to the test, and another… and another…
You were watching the picky twit, starting to feel embarrassed for how he turned down sword after sword. “What exactly are you looking for?”
He smiled at the slightly annoyed tone. “Balance.”
“Balance?” Percival parroted. “It’s a sword. You just have to hit someone with it.”
He inspected the crossguard of the sword whilst explaining it to the boy. “A sword must have a good balance to control it well. It must be strong, not just the blade but the pommel and crossguard as well. A blade alone will not offer much aid in a sword fight without a strong pommel.”
The blacksmith’s daughter approached him now that he was just looking at the details of the pommel. “Spoken as a true swordsman. You are in need of a new sword then?”
She placed her hand on his lower arm, he looked at her hand right away. The sight of it bothered you, it shouldn’t have, not after all that had happened.
“No.” He finally read her intentions from her face. “It is for her.”
You saw him gesture your way and stared back at him in surprise. A sword, for you? Truly?
“Oh… I see… of course.” she stammered and stepped back.
When he beckoned for you to come closer, you became very aware of the sets of eyes on you. It felt a little awkward to approach him.
Upon seeing the reluctance, he approached you himself. He stood at your side and placed the sword into your hands, with your state from earlier in mind he behaved as gentle as he knew he could be. “See? Perfectly balanced steel. The right length for you to wield, a strong crossguard that can be used as a weapon in itself.”
The enthusiasm with which he spoke was infectious, if someone knew what sort of sword was good it had to be him. And with the way he was touching your arm and hands, you struggled to fully focus on the details of the sword he was explaining about.
He stood half against you. “What do you think? Do you like it?”
“Yes.” It flopped out, as if air decided to flee your lungs before the rest of your body could.
He looked at the shopkeeper. “We’ll take the sword.”
“Very well.” She sounded a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in the other matters that she had wanted to offer.
He made an observation. “She needs a belt and sheath for it.”
“Of course.” She went to a hook on the wall that held multiple sorts of belts and helped you pick one out, then she attached the sheath to it.
Lancelot approved of the ensemble and was seemingly wondering if there could be more added to the belt that would be useful. “A small pouch for it?”
That sure sounded handy to store small things in. “I’d love that.”
With a polite gesture of his hand, he told the shopkeeper to add it to the ensemble. Then there you stood, with a proper weapon belt and a sword at your hip, the joy it brought was refreshing.
“Will that be all?” The shopkeeper asked.
Percival piped up, “I want a knife.”
“No.” Lancelot denied that request.
The boy fired back. “Mine was stolen! By the people you lived with.”
The way the child glared at him and gave him a warning look… It was a blessing that he had not referred to them as paladins.
Lancelot looked at you for advice. Was it proper to give the young boy a knife?
You mistook the look he gave. “If the sword is too costly for Percival to get a knife, I will manage without a sword.”
He sighed and looked towards the shopkeeper. “Do you have something appropriate for one of his age to use?”
“My ‘age’ ?” Percival glared at him. “What’s that got to do with it?”
You snorted a laugh, curious how Lancelot was going to talk himself out of this one. And apparently he considered it wise to not answer Percival’s bait for a battle. Thankfully the shopkeeper sensed the mood of the boy shifting in the wrong direction and quickly handed a knife to Lancelot.
He inspected the knife before giving it to Percival. “Good?”
The boy got very cheery instantly again, and with a wide grin he nodded up to him. The sword and knife were paid for and the shopkeeper bid you all a good evening. Indeed evening had arrived over the land, there were far less people on the streets now. With a sword that you could rest your hand on, you felt more at ease. Had this been Lancelot’s intention, for you to feel less threatened by the crowd? It worked.
~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~
Before entering the inn, the three of you stopped by the horses. They were indeed being fed and taken care of, the innkeeper was one of the better ones out there it seemed.
“I miss Bear.” you said quietly whilst brushing the coat of the horse, that you had stolen from the paladins, with some straw. Lancelot was beside you, tending to Goliath’s coat.
Percival had heard it too. “Who’s ‘Bear’?”
“My own horse.” you told him. “This is the one I stole from the paladins. He’s sweet too, but he’s not Bear.”
The boy pouted a bit. “Where is Bear?”
You sighed. “Still at the paladin camp, I think.”
“He will be alright.” Lancelot reassured. “A good horse is always valuable, they will treat him well.”
You hoped he was right about that. “I hope so.”
After tending to the horses, you headed into the inn. The scent of warm potatoes and vegetables hanged inside the place, it was a warm welcome to your nostrils.
“I’m hungry.” Percival said the second you walked into the inn.
“I will ask the innkeeper for meals. Do we eat in the room?” you asked them.
“Yes.” Lancelot was quick to reply. The visit to the market had been enough risks for the day.
He did not have the heart to remind the boy that he had eaten a sweetroll not long ago, considering one of the ways to win the war against the Fey had been to burn their mills to cause famine amongst them.
As you walked towards the bar, he took Percival up to the room. Amelia was already looking at you, awaiting the interaction whilst she brushed a stray lock of her curly black hair behind her ear.
“That is a fine looking sword.” She nodded down at the sword resting at your hip. “Went to the market then?”
The wish for small talk was shared. “Yes. I needed more medicine for my friend.”
Her eyes narrowed for a blink. “That man you are with is your ‘friend’?”
Friend… it was the only way you could describe him that wouldn’t draw attention.
You worried what her reaction meant. “Yes…”
“I thought he was your lover.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And the boy?”
Rumors could be born so easily… at least Amelia was not afraid to ask for the truth. “Percival’s parents died, he only has us now.”
She hummed and filled some plates with the stew she had prepared for those at the inn. Her voice was just loud enough for you to hear. “Not many know what the Weeping Monk looks like, the people speak of him as if he is a ghost. Those who have not seen his face, or heard the stories, will not recognize him. But I have heard the stories. So tell me, should I be concerned?”
Your hands got clammy. She knew… she knew… “He is not a ghost, nor a monster. He will do you no harm.”
At least you hoped that was true, and that this was not some elaborate plan of his to get your trust back and return you to Father Carden.
She stared you down for a second, then gave a nod and placed the plates in front of your nose. “Be careful. Someone like him must have dangerous enemies, do not find yourself in the midst of it.”
If only she knew that you were already standing in the midst of it all. You took the plates to carefully carry them up the stairs. “Thank you for the meals.”
“You’re welcome. And once your ‘friend’-” she truly enunciated the word, “-feels better, do ask him if he could be so kind to move some of the lumber from behind the inn inside for the fireplace. There is no rush, but I would appreciate the help.”
It was a small favor to ask for in return for the hospitality she had shown. “I will ask. And he is truly just a friend, that is already complicated enough as it is.”
Her voice got a little louder, as if she meant to embarrass you in a playful way, “Perhaps it is complicated because he keeps imagining all the sins he would commit if he were to get you into bed.”
It caused your cheeks to burn. You tried to hush her. “What?! No! Of course not! He’s not like that-”
She arched a brow after you said the last part. “He’s not?”
Doubt was dripping off her tone and her expression, it only got you more flustered. She was such an open personality, unafraid to voice her thoughts and opinions and you found yourself at their mercy.
“He’s not.” you said firmly. Aware that your expression did not match the confidence of your voice.
A cheeky laugh escaped her. “Alright, don’t get so nervous. Who would I be to judge you for seeking some comfort in the arms of a monk?”
You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, carrying the plates in hand to carry them up the stairs. “You should write a book with that kind of imagination, Amelia.”
A laugh rippled through her chest and the sound followed you up the stairs, it wasn’t until you were in the room and had closed the door that you finally stopped hearing it. You placed the plates of stew down on the table. Percival was at the table not a blink of an eye later, Lancelot was more patient in his approach. He did not sit down yet when he saw you ignore the meal to attach your dagger to your new belt as well.
You finally noticed once you were done with the task. “Go on, sit. You don’t have to wait for me, you need your meals to get healthy again.”
“So do you.” he said whilst taking seat beside Percival.
You took the remaining plate of stew to eat on the bed. “How are your wounds? Is that ointment still working?”
“It is wearing off I believe.” He took a bite. “The vials will bring some relief.”
Those vials were good for fever, but you were not sure how well it would work against dirt getting into the wounds. “But you need ointment to protect you from infections, and it helps to quicken the process of healing. I’ll go search for what I need after the meal.”
He shook his head. “Tomorrow is better.”
You frowned. “But-”
He would not hear it. “There is no need to scour the woods for me at night. I will not perish within hours. You should concern yourself over your own health more, have your own bruises even healed yet?”
“ Fine, I’ll go tomorrow.” you agreed to it. “And they’re almost gone.”
“How did you get bruises?” Percival asked with his mouth full.
���Paladins.” You spared the boy of the darker truth, drank the last of the broth that was left of the stew and put the plate down on the bed.
Lancelot scolded the boy for the lack of manners. “Do not talk with a full mouth.”
“Why?” Percival asked with his mouth still full.
“It is not proper.”
“Why?”
Lancelot sighed when the boy kept speaking whilst he chewed. “I can see right into your mouth. It ruins the appetite.”
Percival rolled his eyes and finally swallowed the food down. “Then don’t look.”
Those two conversing was so entertaining to watch. Lancelot trying to help the boy learn some manners, whilst the boy reacted to it as if Lancelot was exaggerating. The patience he had with the child was admirable. You watched their entire interaction, and Percival proved quite talented at trying to change the topic when it was most convenient for him.
An unexpected question of the boy derailed their entire conversation. “That man that talked to you before you fought those masked paladins, why did he ask if I could smell the Fey? Can you smell who is Fey?”
Lancelot had finished his plate not long after Percival had, and confirmed what the boy believed to be true. “Ash Folk have a strong sense of smell. Fey kind gives of a different sort of scent than Manblood.”
The boy looked somewhat confused. “Different how?”
He leaned back into the chair. “Imagine it as a cloak hanging over them at all times, a fresh scent much like young grass. It is different for all Fey, but it always smells similar to what one can find in the woods.”
You had never been able to put the scent into words, but his description made complete sense. “It prickles the nose.”
His attention turned to you. “Yes.”
“But not in a bad way.” you assured Percival. “I can’t pick up on scents as good as he can, but his description fits.”
Lancelot was glad to hear that you experienced it in a similar way. “I can ignore most scents, it would overwhelm my senses too greatly otherwise. But I will always notice the Fey scent.”
“Because you used it to find us?” Percival was starting to piece the puzzle together again.
Lancelot gave a small nod, aware how even the boy must have realized how terrible it was that a Fey had used his abilities against his own kind.
It lead Percival to chase the truth. “Why were you with them? If you’re Fey, why did you fight against us?”
You didn’t want this to end in trouble. “Percival-”
“It’s alright.” Lancelot said to you. “He has a right to know.”
You rose from the bed and approached Percival, leaning onto the back of the chair with your arm as Lancelot began his story. He told the boy how he ended up in the hands of Father Carden, what was expected of him and why. Percival had not been so quiet in quite some time, often a look of confusion set in his eyes to which Lancelot explained a little more.
“Do you really think we’re damned?” The boy asked.
Lancelot got quieter. “I do not know what to believe anymore.”
Percival looked down for a second, chewing his lip. “But you won’t hurt the Fey anymore?”
That was at least one thing he was certain of. “No. Not unless it is to defend us from danger.”
To the boy it was an agreeable condition. Percival still had some questions that were a little less hard to answer, mostly about how monks lived and how they prayed. You did notice that Lancelot was careful not to mention how they used the scourge on themselves. The memory of the wounds he had inflicted upon himself the last time he had done so was etched into your mind, you doubted those were not still hurting him even just sitting there.
“Alright.” You grabbed their empty plates. “Whilst you two talk further, I’m taking these downstairs before it attracts flies into the room.”
They barely acknowledged the announcement, Percival was too engulfed in what Lancelot was telling him and Lancelot was too concentrated on not saying something that the boy was too young to hear about. So you headed down to the inn, Amelia was sweeping the floor and gave a grateful nod when she saw you carrying the plates down.
“To lessen some of your workload.” You held the plates up. “Do I put them in the kitchen?”
“Please do. Thank you.” She continued her task of cleaning the inn for the night.
The baker, Charles, was still up and sat at a table alone, you had to walk past him to go to the kitchen. “Care to offer a listening ear again, or perhaps accept one for yourself?”
You walked past him. “My ears always listen. I’ll put these in the kitchen first.”
Once you returned from the kitchen, he was awaiting your presence and leaned over the table to move the other chair so you could sit. Again he told of his life, about how before he became a baker he dreamed of being a bard, and when he offered to play on his lute you had to tell him that those already asleep in the inn upstairs might not appreciate the music at that hour. He was rather sweet, it was nice to listen to him talk. He had some quite amusing stories to tell about how some patrons would empty out a loaf of bread and try to return the shell of it to get their coin back.
Charles leaned a little closer over the table, his hands wrapped around the tankard that was long since emptied. “And you, what sort of stories can you tell me?”
It made you get evasive. “I’m not that interesting.”
He tsk-ed. “Nonsense. I see stories in those beautiful eyes.”
“‘Beautiful eyes’?” A chuckle escaped you. It had been a while since such flattery had been aimed your way.
“Not used to flattery?” he sounded surprised. “Hard to believe from someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” You had a cheeky grin.
“I enjoy your company and would love to enjoy it for the rest of the night.” Charles made no secret of his intentions, especially when he reached over to place a hand over your own.
A plate was put down on the table between you and Charles, who jolted back in his chair from the loud clattering it made. You reacted the same way, your heartbeat spiked. It was not Amelia who had put the plate down on the table, no, Lancelot had brought down your empty plate that you had forgotten upstairs in the room.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Charles asked rightfully irritated.
"Her husband.”
Taglist:
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#weeping monk#weeping monk x reader#cursed netflix#cursed#lancelot x reader#the weeping monk#lancelot#weeping monk x you#cursed lancelot#the weeping monk x reader
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Hiya mate again, this is the other user the requested for Tony, Stephen and Loki's fics. Well I do have other requests but let me ask this since I know you make Shelby fics you might make this aswell.
1# Dark!Cillian Murphy x Reader
Let me just say how it should start. Let's say that the Reader is an Actress that was casted for Oppenheimer (Or you can choose the movie/film). Cillian showed signs that he hates the reader but secretly loves her and because of the hate signs, the reader thinks he actually hates her and uhh just continues this fake rivarly then one day Cillian just asks the reader to come to the backstage in after hours (after work) and then maybe confront her about how much he loves her and after the reader refuses and declines his offer multiple times he ends up drugging and kidnapping the reader.
Sorry I explained the plot too much.
Thanks mate.
Okay...I may have gotten carried away and wrote a small blurb. Let me know if you guys want to see more of this.

There were no warning signs, nothing that could show your co-star’s obsessive feelings. His aloofness and borderline rudeness should have bothered you, and it did for a while, but you eventually got over it. You were a total boss, keeping your cool and staying polite with your head held high, knowing there wasn't any other way to handle it. We all know that Hollywood unfairly favors men. They can act badly with no repercussions, while women get scrutinized for the tiniest slip-ups. You did not let your negative feelings show and stay friendly with your co-stars and crew, even when they left you out of things. You knew that any drama could mess up your career at the peak of your fame. Luckily, your cast-mates made an effort to include you without upsetting Cillian. You actively avoided Cillian in get-togethers and parties because you didn't want to worsen your strained professional relationship. Since he was the lead actor and Nolan's top pick, and you were playing a supporting role, you could be easily replaced. Even though you didn't care, getting fired from a movie isn't a good look for any actor, let alone you…
Finally, after months of rehearsals, shooting, and re-shooting, the movie was done. The heavy weight on your chest lifted as you realized you were finally going home after what felt like an eternity. Nolan threw a party to thank everyone for their hard work, but let's just say you were eager to leave without being rude.
You were chatting with John David Washington and D’Arcy Carden about future projects.
Any plans now that the movie's wrapped up?”, John asked you as he took a sip of whiskey.
“I get to go home for a bit and then it's press tour time for MI,” you said excitedly.
“Oh God, press tours can be so monotonous, day in and day out, answering the same questions just in different ways.” D’Arcy sympathised.
“What could be so draining D’Arcy?” Nolan asked as he joined you along with a few other of your cast mates, including the one and only diva Cillian. You stiffened but were relieved by the buffer of people around you.
“We were just discussing what’s next for Y/N, she has a press tour coming up in a few weeks,” D’Arcy explained to the newcomers. Nolan chuckled.
“Yeah, press tours can be exhausting, but I'm still excited. I'm pumped to see Tarzan, Noah, and Zendaya! We've been so caught up with our projects that we haven't talked.” You blurt out cheerfully.
When your cast mates saw you all giddy, their smiles widened except for Cillian’s. He tightened his grip around his beer bottle, furious that you were so excited about meeting up with your friends. He wanted to be at the receiving end of that joy, that excitement, that anticipation.
“I expect the same level of excitement for the press tour for our movie.” John laughed.
“Not the same level, John, at least double the amount of excitement.” Nolan teased you.
“Well, we all have to wait and watch,” D’Arcy added.
“I promise to turn my excite-o-meter and charm to the fullest.” You jokingly promised as you side-hugged John, not noticing a set of clear blue eyes filled with rage.
Wheels were turning in Cillian’s brain. He would not let you slip out so easily, not without a fight. You were his, you just know it yet. And he was going to have to make you see that.
#Cillian Murphy x Reader#Cillian Murphy x Black Reader#Cillian Murphy x Desi Reader#Cillian Murphy x POC Reader#Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader#Dark Cillian Murphy x Reader#Dark Cillian Murphy x Black Reader#Dark Cillian Murphy x Desi Reader#Dark Cillian Murphy x POC Reader#Dark Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader#Dark!Cillian Murphy x Black Reader#Dark!Cillian Murphy x Desi Reader#Dark!Cillian Murphy x POC Reader#Dark!Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader#Dark Cillian Murphy#Dark!Cillian Murphy
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INTRO • RULES
Hey there ! My name is Carden, welcome to my writing blog ! I'm a trans man and my pronouns are he/him. I have autism and get way too indulgent in media
Keep reading for some rules~
ℝ𝕌𝕃𝔼𝕊 𝔸ℕ𝔻 ℝ𝔼𝔾𝕌𝕃𝔸𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝕊
1. General Rules and Stuff
• Most of my works will have the "T" rating on AO3. Please note that an "M" rating will denote violence and the like, not sexual content.
• If you request smut, please be over 18. I won't say minors dni with my blog entirely but please be conscious of my comfort with interacting with minors
• My masterlist will update whenever possible and will include chapter counts, AO3 links, and other useful info
• I mostly write character/character, and mostly write ships I enjoy, but on occasion I might post something platonic or something besides fanfiction
• I would love to talk with you guys about anything currently listed under "current fixations" and hear theories and other things about my work ! I have anon on for my inbox so feel free to blabber away without judgement <3
2. Requests
• I can do character/reader oneshots, but I'm gonna need pronouns and a plot from you
• When I do prompt lists, please follow the specific guidelines for that particular post
• Please don't flood my inbox asking when your request will be done, I'm a perfectionist and want to make sure I put out the best quality work ! Therefore, it will take time.
• I'll do my best to write characters I'm not as familiar with, but please don't send hate because I make a character OOC. I promise I'm trying !
3. Fandom List
• Bungo Stray Dogs
• Jujutsu Kaisen
• Honkai Star Rail
• Yuri!!! on Ice
• Sasaki and Miyano
• Pokemon X/Y
• Blue Lock
That's all I have for now ! Be sure to check this post every so often to see if anything changes because, let's be real, they'll probably update randomly. I hope you have a good time and I'll see you soon !
#writers on tumblr#ao3 writer#tumblr writers#fanfic writer#bsd fanfic#jjk fanfic#twst fanfic#bungo stray dogs fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#twisted wonderland fanfic#yttd fanfic#obey me x reader#narumitsu#klapollo#victuuri#yuri plisetsky#shin soukoku#satosugu#platonic ships#fluff#angst#requests open#talk to me !#sharkden speaks#rules#yuri on ice#yttd#yuri on ice fanfic#obey me fanfic#obey me shall we date
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The Prince of Never by Juno Heart
Book Stats:
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐(3/5)
Spice Rating: 🌶️🌶️🌶️(3/5)
Tropes: Unexpected pregnancy, enemies to lovers, He falls first
Publisher: Indie
Review:
So, one day, Lara falls into the world of fairye. Right into the lap of the cursed Black Blood prince, Ever. Who is cursed to rule due to the black blood running thru his veins. If he does not find his queen, then the black blood will kill him due to this family curse. but then Lara falls into his lap, and suddenly everything gets messed up.
First off, to me this book reads like a cruel prince x beauty and the beast novel. Lara does not give me Jude vibes but Ever does give me Carden vibes.
The world building is very unique. Not a concept I have heard before. With communities like booktok and bookstagram, I feel like the enemies to lovers fantasy trope is getting very congested, and this book I think brought something different to the trope. The plot wasn't your typical enemies to lovers plot. The leads also had ton of chemistry.
Not going to lie, the pregnancy trope thru me off a bit. Like most readers, I don't like it. That being said I do understand why it is there. It's written into the world building.
I didn't love it but didn't hate it.
#book of the month#book quotes#book review#booklr#bookish#books#books & libraries#books and reading#bookstagram#bookworm#bookblr#book blog#book reveal#book recs#book recommendations#book reading#book reccs#book release
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His eye 🫠 ✨
#the band ghost#cardinal copia#ghost#papa emeritus iv#papa copia art#cardenal copia#swiss ghoul#popia copia#popia#papa emeritus copia#cardinal copia art#copia my beloved#ghost copia#copia emeritus#papa copia#cardinal copia sex#copia#copia x reader#copia fanart#papa popia#ghost impera#prequelle#i love them#them rats#rats#life eternal#cirice
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why is there no Oak Greenbriar fanfics?!???
even so, why is there no wren x oak fanfics?!?
the fandom really dropped the ball on this smh. girlies imma feed you, send me request. My goated (haha) prince boi and my feral Smurf queen needs some love.
Requests are open pookie
#oak greenbriar#oak greenbriar x reader#the stolen heir#the prisoners throne#oak x suren#oak x wren#jude duarte#carden greenbriar#oak duarte#queen suren#wren#wren the stolen heir#queen wren#Wren tsh#holly black
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Blue & Grey. Capítulo 38
Warnings/Advertencias: canon divergence, violencia típica del canon, posible mención a muertes, heridas, manipulación, esclavitud, temas sensibles como abuso... Posiblemente más cosas pero no recuerdo ahora mismo :|
Pareja: Obi-Wan Kenobi x jedi! fem!reader
Word count: 2.8 K
Simbología: ⎯ ⁘✦⁘⎯ (espacio temporal largo), ⎯ ✦ ⎯ (espacio temporal corto), "abcd..." (visión de la fuerza), "abcd..." (pensamientos), “abcd…” (pensamientos enviados a través de la fuerza), <<abcd…>> (mensajes datapad), °abcd...° (recuerdos).
Nota autor: Último capítulo de los borrados de forma misteriosa. Espero que lo disfruten mucho, no se olviden de rebloguear y compartir. Nos leemos pronto :)
Anterior / Siguiente
Masterlist Blue & Grey
◞────────⊰·•·⊱────────◟
-Bastante grave, el problema es. A la maestra Starlight y su padawan enviaré, como apoyo a su misión – indica Yoda.
-Entendido, maestro – responde Obi-Wan ante el mensaje.
En el momento en que la transmisión terminó te pusiste de pie antes de reverenciar a los demás miembros del consejo.
-Si me disculpan, tendré que partir de inmediato.
Todos se despidieron con asentimientos de cabeza. Con cada una de las cosas que pasaban quedaba en claro que el pequeño balance se estaba rompiendo y tenían que actuar con mayor rapidez, pero no encontrabas al maestro sith porque no tenías tiempo de siquiera descansar más que un par de horas en Coursant antes de tener que partir de nuevo a otro planeta para intentar ganar una batalla. Esta vez tendrías que ayudar en un caso de esclavos y si bien estabas segura de que entre ambos podrían fue una orden directa así que sólo tenías una opción, cumplir.
Viorica levantó su mirada del datapad que tenía tiempo de estar estudiando.
-¿Otra misión? – preguntó cansada, el hematoma de color morado en su mentón te hizo cerrar los ojos. La misión anterior no había salido exactamente bien, las heridas de ambas lo dejaban en claro, pero a pesar de todo, tendrían que volver a arriesgar sus vidas por la República nuevamente.
-Desafortunadamente, tenemos diez minutos para estar en el hangar.
El suspiro que dejó escapar repicó por todo el dormitorio y sin detenerse ni un segundo prepararon lo necesario para la misión. En un par de minutos ambas estaban listas, caminando al hangar mientras conversaban en voz baja sobre la misión a la que se dirigían.
Mientras Viorica pensaba en cómo disminuir el verdugón en su piel tú pensabas en cómo intentar que Obi-Wan no notara que te habías fisurado un par de costillas y te dolía respirar un poco a pesar de que el bacta te estaba salvando increíblemente de la mayoría parte del proceso de recuperación.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ✦ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Al aterrizar dentro de la nave clase venator de Obi-Wan fueron escoltadas por Cody hacia el puente y él tragó con fuerza al ver el adorable verdugón que tenía una amplia gama de colores en Viorica y como intentabas ocultar con tu manga otro cardenal en la parte donde el borde de esta no alcanzaba a cubrirlo todo.
-General, no es de mi incumbencia, pero… ¿están en condiciones para esta misión?
-Cody, por favor no digas nada, en especial frente al general Kenobi… Estamos bien, son solo golpes que obviamente no han terminado de sanar – admites con tranquilidad, pero él notó que respirabas con cierta dificultad.
-Intente respirar de forma más ligera, general, se notará menos que se lastimó un par de costillas – señala y se volteó justo cuando la puerta del ascensor se abría hacia el puente.
Lo intentaste, seguiste su consejo y avanzaste siendo seguida por tu aprendiz que no tenía ninguna opción para ocultar sus heridas.
-Escuché que necesitas mi ayuda Skywalker – dijiste y él rodó los ojos hasta que se posó en tu brazo y corrió por bloquear ese verdugón del campo de visión de Obi-Wan.
-Dioses, Y/N, ¿tenías que venir así de lastimada? – pregunta en un susurro mientras te encogías de hombros e intentaste contener un quejido de dolor – ¿También las costillas?
-No digas nada, será peor.
-Lo sé, quédate cerca para que no lo vea… Viorica no tendrá la misma suerte
-No se preocupe maestro Skywalker.
-¿Qué pasó, Viorica? – pregunta Obi-Wan y volteaste la mirada hacia la voz de uno de los generales más reconocidos en toda la galaxia.
-No es nada maestro Kenobi, le aseguro que estoy en perfectas condiciones.
-Deberías estar descansando no en misión, ¿realmente era necesario traerla?
-Intenté persuadir al maestro Yoda, pero como puedes notar no tuve mucho éxito – señalas apuntando a Viorica.
-Bueno, para suerte nuestra con sólo Ahsoka será suficiente.
-¿A qué te refieres? – preguntas, confundida
-Me vestirán de esclava para infiltrarnos en el palacio y encontrar la ubicación de los habitantes desaparecidos.
-¿Ahsoka? Estás loco, no pienso dejar que vaya sola.
-No irá sola, estará conmigo en todo momento – reclama Anakin cansado
-Ni pensarlo, siempre sale algo mal, no irá sola. Si vamos a posar como esclavos, desafortunadamente tendremos que dejarte en la nave, mi querida padawan.
-Lo sé, maestra. No se preocupe, de seguro el comandante Cody y yo podremos ayudar cuando sea necesario – el clon asintió y sonreíste. Cody parecía muy serio, pero en realidad tenía un gran afecto por Viorica, como si fuese su hermanita menor y tuviese que asegurarse de que estaría bien en todo momento.
-No pienso dejar que vayas como esclava, es demasiado peligroso.
-¿Y a Ahsoka sí? No, ni hablar… Las dos o ninguna y tendrán que buscar otro plan – ordenas y Anakin negó.
-No, definitivamente otro plan no, ambas irán entonces. Estamos por llegar, vengan a cambiarse.
Anakin tuvo cuidado en elegir un traje de esclava que fuese a cubrir los verdugones de tu misión anterior y le agradeciste profundamente porque no dejarías de escuchar a Obi-Wan si se enteraba.
Al salir con el traje puesto te sentías casi desnuda, un poco incómoda, pero tendrías que aguantar. Primeramente te habías colocado un traje ajustado de color transparente pero que estaba completamente decorado con diversas piedras preciosas, encima habías colocado el vestido, el cual consistía de una tira de tela muy larga que se acomodaba cubriendo tu pecho derecho daba un giro por tu cuello para bajar y cubrir el pecho izquierdo y el resto de la tela caía a tus costados, sin embargo ambos extremos estaban unidos en tu espalda desde la cintura hasta el ruedo que llegaba casi al suelo, todo con el fin de poder cubrir tu trasero aparentando por detrás que se trataba de una falda decorosa. Además, tenías un trozo que salía de la unión del cuello para caer en un estilo de hombreras que dejaban a la vista la punta de tus hombros y cubría justamente la zona donde tenías un verdugón en el brazo izquierdo, para finalizar, una tercera tira de tela se unía a los costados de tu busto en una ligera división, pero el resto era lo suficientemente gruesa y nacía desde la altura de tu ombligo cubriendo el frente de tu cuerpo.
Al salir de la zona que habían destinado para cambiarse la ropa estabas acomodando una tira para ampliar la zona cubierta de tu pecho un poco molesta por la poca ropa que tendrías que llevar encima.
-¿Acaso no podías encontrar algo más completo en la zona del busto, Anakin? – preguntaste terminando de acomodar la tela logrando tu cometido, al no escuchar respuesta, levantaste la mirada preocupada.
En la sala solo estaba Obi-Wan y su expresión provocó que te sonrojaras – ¿Tan mal me veo? – preguntaste de forma genuina.
-No, estás… - aclaró su garganta luego de haberse atragantado con sus palabras – Estás preciosa.
-Maestra, se ve hermosa, lástima que sea un traje de esclava.
-Gracias, ¿podrías ayudarme con el cabello, por favor?
Viorica tomó una tira larga de pequeños cristales acomodados en una forma que recordaba a una enredadera, la cual enredó en tu pelo luego de haberlo dispuesto en una trenza muy desordenada. Te veías hermosa, pero al mismo tiempo no demasiado perfecta, como si hubieses luchado un poco y el cabello se hubiese salido de un peinado elaborado.
-Listo maestra.
-Gracias, padawan querida – respondiste y ella asintió
Anakin apareció a la distancia con dos capas grises que cubrían sus cabezas y el atuendo por completo, lo que agradeciste, entre menos personas te viesen vestida así, sería mejor para tu conciencia. Lo que más detestabas de tener que trabajar encubierta era tener que utilizar vestimentas que en situaciones normales no usarías, como estaba pasando en esa ocasión. Definitivamente no utilizarías ese traje de esclavo por voluntad propia.
-Dado que estamos listos, pongámonos en marcha.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⁘ ✦ ⁘ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
La misión definitivamente no estaba saliendo como querías y mucho menos según el plan. Cuando se habían encontrado en la sala del trono la reina había observado con algo similar a la adoración tu cuerpo y te sentiste demasiado expuesta, pero gracias a que pudiste controlar los impulsos de cubrirte diste la impresión de ser alguien dócil y la reina ronroneó al verlo.
-Creo que le agradará a mi esclavista favorito – dijo pasando un dedo por tu cuello sacándote un temblor de desagrado que terminó por complacerla mucho más.
-Claro que sí, majestad. Por complacerla le daré a mi mejor esclava humana como un regalo, en señal de mi adoración hacia usted.
El collar que te colocaron te hizo sentir un poco desesperada, pero seguiste a tu nuevo “amo” hacia la habitación donde te dejó porque tenía cosas más importantes que hacer. Lo agradeciste, pero ahora estabas completamente incomunicada con los demás. No tenías la más mínima idea de lo que sucedía en el exterior, te estabas poniendo ansiosa así que tomaste el comunicador que tenías oculto y lo activaste esperando poder hablar con alguien que te dijera lo que estaba sucediendo.
- ¿Anakin? – susurraste y esperaste unos segundos, al no recibir respuesta volviste a intentar – ¿Anakin, me copias?
- ¿Y/N? – respondió una voz que denotaba lo sorprendido que estaba y eso sólo te indicó algo, Anakin no estaba cerca de los demás y de paso Obi-Wan comenzaría a preocuparse demasiado por tu seguridad al saber que no estabas con su antiguo padawan.
-Obi-Wan… - susurraste con tono cansado – Estoy bien, nos separamos, pero estoy en un lugar seguro. Me entregaron como regalo al esclavista de la reina. Creo que puedo conseguir información estando aquí – respondes tranquila por el comunicador, pero sabías que no se iba a tranquilizar específicamente.
-Si nos ponemos a pensar en definiciones, no te encuentras bien. Es demasiado peligroso. Envíame tus coordenadas, iré por ti – ordenó.
-Obi, tranquilo… que esté desarmada no significa que no pueda defenderme si tengo que hacerlo. Además, si lo ves con objetividad, siendo esclava del guardián aumentan las posibilidades de que logre encontrar la colonia de Togrutas antes de lo que planeado. Necesito que confíes en mí – respondiste con un tono que esperabas sonara tranquilizador y que le inspirara la confianza que no tenías.
-Yo confío en ti – respondió completamente seguro –. Pero no confío en las demás personas cuando se trata de ti – admitió y sonreíste. De no ser porque no tenías idea de cuantos clicks los separaban lo podrías haber besado en ese momento, un sonido en el pasillo te hizo reaccionar.
-Está regresando, me tengo que ir – respondiste rápidamente
-Cuídate, por favor – en su tono lograste escuchar un tono similar al pánico en su voz, definitivamente temía por ti, lo podías escuchar y curiosamente, también sentir a través de la Fuerza.
-Lo prometo – respondiste antes de cortar la comunicación y ocultando el aparato entre tu ropa.
Cuando la puerta se abrió te encargaste de recibir a tu “amo” con una ligera sonrisa. Agradecías aparentar ser más joven de lo que en realidad eras porque si bien tu cuerpo dejaba en claro que no eras una jovencita en desarrollo, no era el cuerpo usual que esperabas ver en una mujer según la sociedad, lo que te dejaba ventaja.
Él tiró de ti hasta que terminaste por sentarte sobre sus muslos, una de sus manos viajó a tu espalda baja para aportarte soporte y otra se detuvo en tus piernas. No lograste evitar comprimir la sensación de asco al sentir su mano deslizarse por tu muslo mientras mencionaba un par de cosas sin sentido hasta que mencionó algo con distracción sobre un cargamento nuevo antes de que se disculpara por haberte abandonado tanto tiempo.
Subió más su mano y con el otro brazo te acercó más a su cuerpo. Sólo atinaste a colocar una mano en el hombro de él, lista para noquearlo de ser necesario
– ¿Tienes algun nombre, cosita? – pregunta enterrando su rostro en tu cuello, inspirando tu aroma. Estuviste a punto de tensarte, pero controlaste el impulso en el último minuto.
-Para usted, amo, puedo tener el nombre que guste – respondiste de forma coqueta, ¿quería jugar? Lo tendría.
Te empujó complacido hacia la cama con más fuerza de la que hubieses deseado, pero te mantuviste expectante.
-Uhm, veo que eres muy complaciente, cosita… Ahora me puedo imaginar un par de nombres – murmura mientras comenzaba a subir sus manos por tus muslos nuevamente, querías quitarlo, de verdad. Pensaste en cómo estarías reaccionando si no estuvieses enamorada, cómo podrías estar jugando con él, intentando sacarle información a través del sexo, pero no podías. Tener sentimientos tan profundos por alguien provocaban que no pudieses pensar en opciones más bajas para sacar información.
Comenzó a subir sus manos hasta casi tocar tu intimidad, lo sentiste bajar su rostro y besar tu cuello. Justo entonces perdiste el control, con un solo pensamiento lo dejaste fuera de juego sobre la cama de la cual saltaste con la respiración acelerada intentando poner distancia. Sentías sus manos y labios encima y no podías evitar sentirte sucia, sin embargo; no tenías tiempo.
Saliste de la habitación y con pasos acelerados comenzaste a buscar el cuarto de control. Lo encontraste con cierta dificultad, abriste las puertas, pero al no encontrar a nadie te detuviste con los sentidos alerta, era una trampa. La presencia a tus espaldas lo terminó de confirmar, te volteaste y en el marco de la puerta se encontraba el esclavista con una expresión que sólo dejaba en claro el odio profundo que sentía al verte.
Levantaste las manos en señal de rendición y sonreíste dulcemente – ¿Ups? – dijiste con una pequeña sonrisita – Creo que me has descubierto – respondes pero el dolor que recorrió te hizo lanzar una maldición antes de perder la conciencia.
Definitivamente estabas destinada a seguir siendo electrocutada a cada oportunidad que los aliados de los separatistas tuviesen contigo. La lista seguía haciéndose más grande y te molestaba.
Caíste al suelo con un golpe sordo, tus costillas se resintieron por el golpe y perdiste la conciencia no sin antes haber pensado en Obi-Wan y en lo mucho que detestabas ser electrocutada. Lo que no esperabas era que tu pensamiento terminase por alcanzar al jedi provocando que se alterara al saber que no estabas segura en donde fuese que te encontraras.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⁘ ✦ ⁘ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
La oscuridad que sentías rodear tu mente remitió, lo que permitió que inconscientemente te removieras intentando encontrar una posición más cómoda en la cual dormir, pero al no sentir el piso duro y frío, sino, calor y comodidad abriste los ojos de golpe completamente asustada. Desde arriba te devolvió la mirada cargada de preocupación Obi-Wan, su rostro estaba lleno de marcas que de seguro habían sido resultado de puñetazos y tu mirada también se cargó de dolor.
-Soy yo, estrella – lo escuchas murmuras y asentiste antes de levantar tu mano con la intención de acariciar su rostro. La manera en que inclinó su cabeza para permitir que tu mano entrara en mayor contacto con su piel te hizo intentar levantarte, pero el dolor proveniente de tus costillas te hizo quejarte.
-¿Te duele algo?
-Estaré bien, creo que me lastimé un par de costillas.
-Debí insistir en ir a rescatarte.
-Estoy bien, esto no es lo peor que me ha pasado.
-Si ese imbécil se atrevió a ponerte las manos encima me voy a reprochar mucho el no haberlo matado con mis propias manos – susurró sin dejar de mirarte, pero en sus ojos se podían apreciar los sentimientos de odio que tenía hacia el esclavista; desafortunadamente no pudiste evitar bajar la mirada.
- ¿Él te…?
-No, claro que no… Me encargué de detenerlo antes – admites y él negó antes de inclinar su rostro para unir su frente con la tuya buscando una fuente de apoyo, se sentía débil, pero era por la cantidad de emociones que fluían en su alma en esos momentos.
-Te amo – susurró para que sólo tu fueses capaz de escucharlo y sonreíste.
-Desearía poder besarte sin levantar sospechas, Obi… También te amo – susurraste cerca de sus labios y ambos cerraron los ojos disfrutando del contacto sin notar que a la distancia dos personas los observaban atentamente.
-Espero que por fin hayas aceptado tus sentimientos, maestro – murmura Anakin a lo que Viorica jadeó sorprendida.
-Maestro Skywalker.
-No digas nada, Viorica. Creo que lo mejor sería actuar como si no lo supiésemos.
-Aunque no me lo hubiese pedido lo haría de todas formas. Cuando está con el maestro Kenobi son de las pocas veces que la veo feliz.
-Puedo decir lo mismo de él.
-Bueno, con usted también se ve feliz.
-¿Y/N?
-En menor medida, pero me refería al maestro Kenobi – Anakin pareció un poco incómodo lo que le sacó una risita a Viorica y negó antes de voltearse –. Creo que lo ve como un hermano, maestro. En todo caso, iré a ayudar a Ahsoka, con permiso.
#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars clone wars#star wars fanfiction#obi wan#obi wan kenobi#obi wan kenobi x jedi! reader#obi wan fic#obi wan x reader#obi wan x y/n#obi wan x jedi#anakin skywalker#padme amidala#anakin x padme#the clones wars#padawan oc#the clone wars#ahsoka tano#clone wars ahsoka
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begging for cobra starship and the academy is requests, also fall out boy <3
#cobra starship#the academy is...#fall out boy#gabe saporta#vicky t#nate novarro#ryland blackinton#william beckett#adam t siska#mike carden#the butcher#michael guy chislett#fall out boy x reader#cobra starship x reader#the academy is... x reader#pete wentz#patrick stump#joe trohman#andy hurley#ALSO#I JUST GOT HOME FROM MY WWWY TRIP#FUCKING INSANE/POS#I WAS THERE THE SECOND DAY
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