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peepawispunk · 10 days ago

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An Inch Away (From More Than Just Friends) - Chapter 2

Your first month of teaching passes quickly, and before you know it, you're heading for the airport to start your trip.

Pairings: You/Mr Ben

Rating: Teen, later chapters will be Explicit.

Warnings/tags: Romcom logic, age gap (reader is late 20s, Ben mid-late 30s), former student/teacher dynamic, but no romance until student is late 20s, flirting

Word count: 3K

Series masterlist AO3 Main masterlist

Chapter 1

The next week passed fairly quickly, as you set up your classroom and curriculum. You'd also had lunch with Ben every day, discussing the trip and what it would entail.

Mr Grant, the teacher that usually organised the trip with Ben, had handled the accommodation before he left, and Ben had handled the itinerary, so you spent working lunches together creating two itineraries - one for the students and their parents and guardians, and one for the teacher-chaperones, with further details.

Before you knew it, the first day of classes rolled around, and you found yourself more nervous than you'd expected as you entered the school parking lot, pulling into your dedicated space.

You double checked your appearance in the mirror on your sun visor, brushing some stray hairs back out of your face from where they'd stuck to your lip balm. You realised you looked as nervous as you felt, and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I can do this." You told yourself, then pulled a face. It had always felt weird to repeat affirmations to yourself, and today was no different. You huffed a frustrated breath, smoothing down your sundress and grabbing your bag from the passenger seat, before getting out of the car and locking it. You took another deep, steadying breath, closing your eyes to ground yourself.

"First day jitters?" Ben's smooth voice asked, startling you into dropping your bag on your foot.

"Fuck." You hissed, jerking your foot out from under it, turning to face Ben. "That obvious, huh?"

"Just a little." He teased, shutting his car and locking it, before crossing the space in between your cars. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?"

"I only wounded my pride." You joke, bending to pick your bag up, heaving it over your shoulder.

Ben reached out, motioning for the bag. "There's no way that didn't hurt, give it here. The least I can do is carry it for you."

"Really, Ben, I'm fine." You protested, face growing hot with embarrassment. "I don't want to be a bother."

His gaze turned stern at your protests, and he put his hand on his hip, using his best teacher voice. "You are no bother at all. Hand over the bag."

You felt heated for a whole other reason now, your brain scrambling as you lost the ability to protest further.

"Okay." You squeaked, handing it over to get the whole embarrassing moment over with.

"Good girl." He said jokingly, shouldering the bag. "Jesus, girl. What do you keep in this damn bag? Rocks?"

"Close. Textbooks." Your face was even hotter now. He'd called you a good girl in a totally innocent context. You knew he meant nothing by it, had no idea what those words did to you.

Ben nodded in understanding. "Ahh. Must be the Complete World History Series, then.”

"No just the European one.” You deadpan, making Ben laugh.

You started walking to the building together. "Did you forget your bag?"

Ben laughed. "Honey, I'm too old to be lugging textbooks around every day. I do all my work here."

"You might have the right idea there." You conceded, foot throbbing where the corner of the hardback history text in your bag had hit it.

"You'll soon learn, young padawan."

"Twenty six is not that young." You protested. "How old are you, anyway?" He was making a thing about your age, and you weren't sure that you liked that.

"I don't think I want to tell you." Ben said, his tone serious even though his face was amused.

"Come on. It can't be that much older than me."

"Oh, it can."

"Just tell me. I'll share my cookies with you if you tell me?"

"What kind of cookies are we talking?"

"Homemade chocolate chip."

Ben paused for a second, weighing his options as you unlocked the door to your classroom. "Okay, but I want the cookie now."

"It's eight in the morning."

"And I skipped breakfast. This will go nicely with my coffee." He set the bag down on your desk with his free hand, holding up his travel mug to emphasise how much he needed this cookie.

You reached into the bag for the container inside, opening it and offering it to him. He deliberated for a second, finding one with a good helping of chocolate chips, and plucked it out with nimble fingers. He took a bite, groaning at the taste.

"Hey, we had a deal!" You reminded.

"I always keep my word." He sighed playfully. "I'm thirty nine." He took another bite, washing it down with his coffee.

"Wow you weren't kidding when you said you were pushing forty. Now I can make all the old man jokes I like."

"Mm, worth it." He said, heading to his own classroom across the hall. "Thanks for the cookie. And hey - you've got this. If you need anything, I'm right here."

"You're welcome." You put the lid back on the cookies, setting them on your desk. "And thanks."

Ben slipped into his room with a wink, heading to his desk, and you turned back to your bag, fishing out your lesson plans for the day.

Of all the classes you'd taught so far today, your favourite was the senior class. The class was full of students that wanted to be there, ancient history being an elective for the junior and senior years rather than compulsory like it was for the younger students. You'd introduced yourself to them, explaining that Mr Grant had left for another job. They'd been a little disappointed - from what you could tell, Mr Grant had been a great teacher, passionate about history, and friendly. That was okay though; you were too, and you were determined to prove it.

"Miss, if you're replacing Mr Grant, does that mean you're coming on the trip to Europe?" A girl with dark brown hair asked, once you'd introduced yourself.

"Yes, I'll be going." You answered with a smile.

"Have you been before? What's your favourite place there?" Another boy towards the back of the room asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they slipped down.

"It will be my first time in Europe, so I'm afraid I can't tell you much about it, but Mr Ben has been there a lot, so maybe you can ask him. He and I are going to host an information night next week to go over the final itinerary. We'll be sending notes home for you and your parents tomorrow."

A wave of excited chatter spread out through the class, and you smiled, their enthusiasm infectious. You were pretty damn excited to go, too. You let them spend a minute talking between themselves before you called their attention again.

"I'm excited too, believe me! But let's get some work done, yeah? The more we get done now, the less we have to do while we're over there. And I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to be doing any unnecessary work when we could be enjoying ourselves."

The class reluctantly agreed, and you launched into an explanation of the unit of study for the semester. "This semester we'll be focusing on Rome - specifically the eruption of Vesuvius in 79AD. We're going to focus on what happened, when it happened, and how we know it happened. We're going to look at primary sources from the time, and findings from the digs in Pompeii and Herculaneum, to piece together what life looked like for them, and how it ended."

The class remained as engaged as you could expect from them, considering it was their first day back and their minds were elsewhere. You didn't mind, starting them off with some easy activities to familiarise themselves with ancient roman terminology that would be relevant to their studies later on in the unit. Finally, it was lunch time, and you dismissed the class, heading down to the staff room with your bag in hand - no textbooks inside it this time.

Ben was already in the staff room when you got there. He was drooping by the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish brewing.

"Long day?" You asked, setting your bag on the table you'd taken to sitting at in the past week, sitting down to retrieve your lunch.

Ben just groaned in response, rolling his sleeves up as he turned around, leaning against the counter. "I have three freshman classes back to back today."

"Oof." You winced sympathetically. "Cookie?" You offered, sliding the container across the table towards him.

He perked up at that, crossing the space to snag one. "You're the best." He opened the container, snagging a cookie at random and taking a huge bite.

You watched him with amusement as he closed his eyes, eating the cookie. The tension seemed to melt from his shoulders as he let out a pleased groan.

“I might have to start keeping cookies on me at all times.” You joked. Ben opened his eyes, his gaze finding yours.

“You’re kidding, but I wouldn’t hate it. My waistline might, though.”

“Oh, please.” You scoffed, shaking your head.

Ben laughed, heading back to the counter. “You want a coffee?”

“Yes please.”

He grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set about fixing you a coffee the way you liked it, pouring himself one too before rejoining you at the table.

“So, how’s your first day going?” He asked, settling into the spot across from you.

“Better than I thought, so far. But it’s early days yet.”

“You’ll be fine. They give you the most trouble when you’re new.”

“I’ve had no trouble yet, so hopefully it stays that way.”

“Well, you get any troublemakers, feel free to send them my way.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The month passed in the same easy fashion as you got your head around your new role as a teacher and helped prepare for the trip. By the time September had rolled around, you were feeling more confident in class, and you had developed a friendly working relationship with Ben. The dynamic shift from student to colleague had been as natural as breathing - Ben made it easy to feel comfortable around him, his presence reassuring and steady as you found your footing.

When the creepy Phys Ed teacher had taken a liking to you, Ben had made a point of timing his walks over to the staff room with yours, an unspoken thing that you appreciated.

“I’m sure he’s harmless.” You’d said, after Ben had rescued you from him the second time, with a fake itinerary-emergency that needed seeing to right away.

“Probably,” Ben had said, “But you’re uncomfortable. That’s a kind of harm, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is, yeah.” You’d conceded. It was the first time you could remember a man understanding how this kind of thing affected women, rather than downplaying it.

Before you knew it, you were finalising the packing of your suitcase, making sure you had everything you were going to need for the month-long trip overseas.

Tomorrow was the day of your flight, and it was an early one. The flight left at 5:30 am, so you’d need to get there at 3:30 to have enough time for everyone to meet up and check in. That meant an early night tonight, so here you were in the late afternoon checking and double checking that you had everything you needed. You’d stash a spare outfit in your carry on, just in case, too.

Your phone lit up with a text as you zipped your suitcase up, and you picked it up to check whether it was important or you could leave it til later.

Ben

Just checking in that you’ve got everything you need, and that you’re still okay to share an uber from your place to the airport?

The first leg of your trip was a flight to New York, where you’d be getting on the international flight that would take you to London. You were trying not to think of the fact that this time tomorrow you’d be on your second flight of the day.

You

Just finished double checking everything, actually. Yes to the Uber. I’ll book it if you like?

Ben

Yes please. I’ve never actually used Uber before, so it might be better if you do that.

You

No problem at all 😊

Ben

Thanks :) See you bright and early tomorrow!

You laughed to yourself at how dad-like he sounded, typing out a reply.

You

See you tomorrow! Good night 🌙

You set your phone down on the bedside table, where it immediately buzzed, lighting up with a phone call.

Aubrey Calling

Your best friend since middle school was calling. You hadn’t spoken in a while, so you didn’t hesitate to answer, putting the phone on speaker so you could continue to wander around your bedroom, finishing up last minute things for the morning.

“Hey Aubs.” You said, setting the phone back down.

“Hey yourself! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were working with Mr Fucking Ben now?!?” Her indignant voice shrieked through the tiny phone speaker, making you laugh. She must have seen your Instagram story from earlier.

“Last time we spoke you were caught up on that guy, it seemed unimportant.” You said honestly.

“Are you kidding me?! You’re working with your high school crush and you didn’t think that was big news? Tell me everything, I need the tea, sis.”

“There’s really not a lot to tell.” You said, sitting on the bed to look through your drawers for your passport. “Oh, except I’m going to Europe tomorrow for the class trip… and Ben is one of the other chaperones.”

“Girl what?! And oooooooh, he’s Ben now? ‘Not a lot to tell’, my ass.”

“It’s not like that, we’re colleagues. He’s been really great, helping me settle in and get my head around everything.”

“I bet you’d like to get your head around something.”

“God, Aubs. What does that even mean? He’s not interested, he’s just a genuinely nice guy.” You said, finally finding your passport in your underwear drawer.

You picked the passport up, finding the small bullet vibrator underneath it. Fuck it. It’s not like you were going to be getting any on this trip, anyway. And Ben had been unwittingly driving you crazy the last few weeks. You picked the vibrator up too, slipping it into a pair of socks and shoving it into your suitcase. Your passport went in your carry-on, along with your plane ticket.

“Pack the condoms, too.” Aubrey advised knowingly, making you startle.

“How the fuck did you know?” You sighed, eyeing the foil sheet of condoms in your drawer.

“I just know these things, babe.” She said cryptically.

“I’m not exactly going to have the opportunity to use them. How would I even meet anyone while I’m chaperoning?”

“You’ll need them. Trust me.”

If there was one thing you’d learned in all the time you’d known Aubrey, it’s that she was never wrong about these things.

“Is this one of those gut-feeling things?”

“Yes. Pack them.”

You did as you were told, tucking the condoms into your toiletries bag, trying not to let your mind wander too much about the implications. You weren’t packing these with anyone specific in mind.

You weren’t.

“Fine. I packed them.” You said, reorganising your suitcase to fit your toiletries inside.

“You’ll thank me later.”

“We’ll see,” you laughed. “I gotta go, I have to be up really fucking early.” You said apologetically.

“All good, babe! Keep me updated! I wanna hear all about your trip.”

You promised you would, wishing her a good night and ending the call. When the call ended, you saw a new notification on the screen.

New Text Message (1) From Ben

Ben

Night 🌙

You smiled to yourself, putting your phone on charge and getting ready for bed.

The next morning had you waking up to your blaring alarm at 2am. You needed to be at the airport in an hour and half, which meant your Uber would be arriving in 45 minutes. You groaned, rolling out of bed and shuffling to the bathroom sleepily to get ready.

You’d decided to choose comfort over fashion for the flight, picking leggings, a comfortable top, and a sweater. You slipped them on with only a minor tremor in your hands - the nerves of flying finally hitting you now you were about to depart. You took a steadying breath, reminding yourself that everything would be okay.

You’d just done your last check of your place to make sure you’d left everything turned off and locked up when a text from Ben flashed up on your phone again, letting you know he was leaving now and would be there in a few minutes.

Deciding now was as good a time as any, with your Uber due in about ten minutes, you decided to wait outside with your luggage, locking the house up and sitting on your porch swing. The night was quiet and still, so you heard Ben’s car approach well before you saw it pull into your driveway.

He shot you a friendly smile as he shut his car off, then gathered his things from the trunk, his arms bulging under his sweater as he lifted his suitcase out. He set his suitcase and carry on next to the car, locking it up and tucking his keys into his pocket as he crossed the grassy lawn to join you on the porch.

“Morning,” He greeted, his voice sleepy but his face bright with anticipation. “You excited to get going?”

“Not exactly the word I’d use. Nervous? Yes. I’ll get excited once the flight is over.”

He frowned sympathetically. “Maybe we’ll get a few drinks for you once we take off. A bit of liquid courage.”

“My doctor gave me a valium,” you admitted, not sure if you wanted to take it when you were around your students.

“Even better.” Ben said. “You might find you’re okay once you’re up there, though.”

“Maybe,” you agreed. “I might see how I go. I can always take it on the flight if I freak out.”

“That’s the spirit.” Ben said, clapping you on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

Before you could formulate a response, the Uber was pulling up, the gravel of the street crunching quietly under the tyres as it came to a stop alongside the curb.

"C'mon. You ready?" Ben said, grabbing your suitcase for you and taking it with him as he descended the porch steps.

"As I'll ever be." You muttered, grabbing your carry-on and following him.

Taglist/people who enjoyed the last chapter: @shessweetsour @behomewhenthestreetlightscomeon @half-moon16 @brittmb115 @thischarmingmandalorian @amyispxnk @tuquoquebrute @titlee78 @foreveratlantica-blog @indiegirlunited @pedrit0-pascalit0

#mr ben fanfic #mr ben x reader #mr ben snl #mr ben x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #teacher ben snl #teacher ben x reader #teacher ben x you #an inch away from more than just friends #aiafmtjf

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snailsgoingdowntown · 2 years ago

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Guilt Tripping - Yan! Diluc

Yandere Diluc x Fem! Reader

part 1 of the “Baby Trapping” series

Warnings: Toxic relationship, general yandere themes, guilt tripping (I think), emotional manipulation, slight victim blaming (I think?), drugging, implied future physical violence (Not towards reader), possessive and obsessive thoughts and behavior, overprotectiveness, overbearing actions, controlling actions/mindset, unhealthy and toxic mindset, paranoia, implied Yandere! Albedo (Towards a different reader of perhaps the same mini-series of this).

Not sfw warnings: Baby trapping, dub-c0n/non-c0n, unprotected sEx, cumming inside without permission, unconsensual and unethical use of aphrodisiacs, vaginal fingering, clothed grinding, loss of virginity (both parties and totally didn't forget to add this warning until now)

Diluc is straight up gaslighting himself in this. He’s aware of how awful he is but keeps justifying it lmao.

Please tell me if I missed any warnings that are needed.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT condone any of the toxic behavior and thoughts that may take place in this work of fiction. None of this should be romanticize or even considered normal as it is very toxic and very dangerous. If you find yourself in such a situation, please seek help if able to.

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

WARNING: DUE TO TUMBLR’S SHITTY TAGGING SYSTEM, NOT EVERY TRIGGER WARNING WILL BE TAGGED, SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS THAT ARE WRITTEN ABOVE. THANK YOU.

MINORS AND AGLESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. THANK YOU.

Unedited.

Word count: 5134k

===

Diluc was aware that he could be… overbearing, at times. He’s aware that his presence can be suffocating, that he can be a bit delusional at times, and that he’s a bit controlling when it comes to you. But be doesn’t mean to do that on purpose – you just manage to bring out both the worse and the best out of him.

Whether or not you’re aware of that fact is up for debate.

He’s been preparing for the day you snap and talk back, or to take some ‘much needed’ space from the relationship. He can’t deny that your sanity is slowly withering away the more you deal with him. Again, he doesn’t mean to make you so stressed.

He just wants what’s best for you, as long as you come back into his arms. There are understandings at times, where you listen instead of charging away like a bull. He knows that you know he cares deeply for you, loves you to the moon and back. That he’d be willing to do almost anything for you.

Anything but this.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

One sentence, five words, is all it takes for his words to come crashing down around him. ‘I need a break’ implies you’ll be back after a week or so. It’s happened once or twice throughout your entire two years of your relationship. And it never lasted more than a week, max.

Diluc can feel the thin thread snapping like a nose around a neck. He swears that the world comes to a halt at your words, seeing nothing but white. Is he undergoing shock? Perhaps he heard you wrong. Yeah, that’s it – you must have said something else. A prank maybe? Or maybe you mixed up your words.

“What… what do you mean?” He hates the way his voice cracks, how shaky his hands become, even when they’re clenched hard enough to snap metal into two. Your facial expression doesn’t show any signs of playfulness.

There’s nothing playful about this situation.

You let out a sigh, fingers massaging your temple. “I said… I’m breaking up with you. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t deal with you anymore.” Your voice cracks, and there’s a silent sob. There’s a huff, an intake of air.

You’re trying your best not to break down in front of him. And he’s doing the same, fists clenching and unclenching as he thinks of something to say. What should he say? That you can’t leave? It’ll only make things more complicated, making you hostile towards him.

He can’t have that. He just can’t. but even so, he finds himself about to utter those words out loud. He bites his tongue.

“…I thought I was good to you. While… I do understand that I can get overbearing at times… I thought I was a good lover to you regardless of.” He tries to keep himself in check. Diluc was nothing but a good gentleman in your eyes, so he acts as such. Although, that illusion may be gone now.

“That’s the problem! You think you’re a good boyfriend. But you’re not. you’re so… overbearing and controlling. I can’t even talk to people you don’t approve of!” Your own thread had seemingly snapped, leaving nothing more than rage behind. Quite, dull rage that’s too exhausting to come out at once.

“You say it’s for my own good… that I need your protection…”

“I never said that- “

“You implied it. Every. Single. Time. you always imply it.”

There’s nothing but silence. There’s a guilty conscience. He can’t ignore it, but he won’t address it. Because that means he’ll have to let go. And he won’t, not even in death, where hell will surely drag him down. He’ll drag you if he has to.

“We can… let’s just talk about this, okay? No need to make any rash decisions.” He’s talking out of his ass right now. “It’s… been a stressful week. It’s late and we both got out of work not too long ago. Let’s just… how about you come over?”

You don’t say anything, not at first. A glimmer of hope. Yes, everything will go back to normal, over a glass or two, ending with you being a whimpering mess as he grinds against you. Just like always.

“No. I can’t… I won’t do that. It always has the same outcome anyway. We never ‘talk’, you just sweet talk your way out, and it ends with some type of sexual activity.” You shake your head, taking a step back. He takes a step forward.

It feels wrong for you to stand so far away. Alien. You should be next to him, no, in his arms as he soothes you. Reality and fantasy don’t mix well, he realizes. “Please,” he tries again, choking on air.

It can’t end like this. It can’t end at all.

“Diluc… I can’t. I just can’t. I know it may be hard for you to understand but, whether you realize it or not… you treat me like a doll. A pretty, fragile, glass doll.” You don’t look him in the eyes, probably can’t.

To be fair, it felt worse on your own end. You loved this man. You wanted to marry him. But it’s in past tense and you’re not sure if you can keep up this happy façade. He’s nothing but controlling at this point, overprotective, suffocating. You can’t live in denial anymore.

Another sigh, another sob. With every step he takes towards you, you take one back. There’s an invisible wall between you, too hard to shatter. At least completely.

“Hey… let’s talk again in a week. When the steam blows off, okay?” You try not to break, he sees it. The way your body tenses, the slight tumble. He makes an effort to not point it out. “Please?”

And you cave, breaking down, wailing like a child. You don’t move away, only flinching as he closes in on you, gently and slowly wrapping his arms around you. his grip on you is loose, not wanting to chase you away. Gentle, he must be gentle.

It’s always worked in the past. He just needs to tweak a few things to guarantee victory. Anything for you, no matter how shady it may be. His morals become dubious when it comes to you.

A few minutes pass before you answer.

“Alright.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to go, your resolve going down the drain whenever it came to you. But you had already promised you would, weak in that moment. But he knew. He knew that you would eventually succumb to his wishes. It happens every time.

And it ends with heated kisses, hands exploring each other’s bodies, promises to wait for the full act after marriage huffed into your ears. Despite the bulge straining in his pants, hazy eyes that kept looking at your kiss swollen lips, he never did anything you were uncomfortable with. And for that, you were grateful. But it doesn’t excuse his other behavior.

Something didn’t feel right. You were nothing short of tense, weary of what’s to come. Would he try to pull something? Or procced to guilt trip you once more, as unknowingly as usual? You could never tell with him, despite dating for two years.

Two years and he became a different person.

No. Beneath that gentlemanly exterior lies a control, obsessive and possessive freak. And you fell for it, the charm, the words, the looks. You dug your own grave without even knowing. And now it’s time to dig your way out, no matter how painful it may be.

You just hope your resolve will stay strong.

It must.

Diluc was nervous. It was more common these days, a nervous Diluc. He can’t help it but to be nervous around you. You were just so pretty, adorable, irresistible. And there was a time where you thought the same, where you couldn’t even take your eyes off of him. And yet, you don’t anymore.

He’s aware why. It’s because of him. But you need to understand was for your protection. He has too many enemies, there’s too much danger in the outside world. Surly, you would come around eventually, right?

Wrong. He was so, so wrong. He should have kept up with the gentle approach, no matter the amount of years it might have taken. It’s not too late to restart… right?

Just act the way you always portrayed him as. His mask has slipped too much too quickly. And now, he needs to fix everything as quickly as possible. The question is how to.

He glances at the wine bottle. A little drug as curiosity of Sir Albedo… a new and up coming drug. An aphrodisiac is what he called it. It was still in its developmental stages, but harmless. He was even given the right dose.

A questioning look in the alchemist’s eyes, no concerns were voiced. Most likely thought it wasn’t his business. And besides… even the esteemed Alchemist Albedo Kreideprinz had skeletons in his closet. Likeminded people must stick together, right?

And thus, the aphrodisiac was handed to him under the table, and now in this ‘new’ and ‘unopened’ bottle of wine. The cork was a new one, the previous one hastily thrown into the trash, covered with other discarded things. Not a smooth cover-up, but one you wouldn’t notice. And, if you were to ask for juice, he even drugged that beforehand.

He flinches slightly when a servant comes up to him, announcing your appearance. He takes in a deep breath before grabbing the bottle and two glasses, making his way to the study. When he gets there, he pauses. Would he be able to pull this off?

If you do ask for it, he has your consent, right? Yes, you wanted to save yourself for marriage but…

He shakes his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. He’ll back down if he thinks about too much. So, he takes a deep breath, straightens himself. His feet feel heavy as he walks into the room. He keeps the door open.

“(name). You came.”

You jolt at that, whipping your head around to see his figure at the doorway.

“Yes… just for a bit. This isn’t a casual visit, after all.” You built a wall around yourself, trying to smile but failing. He doesn’t comment on it.

“Ah. I suppose that’s… right.” Awkward silence, your hands tightly clasping together. His own grip on the glasses and bottle are tight as well. Swiftly, he places the objects down on the table in front of you. Everything has to be perfect. This night needs to end on a good note.

“Wine?” he asks, eyeing the way your jaw tenses as you hesitate to answer. You want to say no, he can see it, feel it. And hopefully, you won’t. His legs are already shaking like a newborn foal’s.

“I… sure.” A quiet sigh of relieve, and he opens the bottle, a loud ‘pop’ echoing in the room. You don’t take your eyes off of it. You’re weary of him. And he doesn’t have the right to complain or even feel offended.

Because you were right to be weary. To be weary of him.

He pours you a glass and himself one. He’s going to take the drug with you. God, he’s already silently regretting this. Not because he’s tricking you (although that’s part of it), but because he’ll have to explain, in detail (something he dreads, but a favor is a favor) of the results. He hates himself for being used a test subject and ragging you into it.

He can’t feel bad, considering he was the one who chose this route.

“Thank you…” you say as he passes a glass to you. He sits in front of you, the plush chair soft against him. He takes a sip.

“So… about our relationship… do you truly want to end it? We can work through this together.” He croaks out, trying his best not to ramble. He takes a deep breath, calming his nerves. He can do this.

“… I’m not sure if this relationship is savable. Two years and you’ve just gotten… worse. Much worse than you have gotten better. It’s like you’ve been possessed.” He can see your eyes water up, but you don’t let them fall.

He wants to wipe them away.

“What do you mean?” He’s never felt so scared in his life. He hates this. He hates himself. “It’s just… I know I can get overbearing, and I promise that I don’t do it on purpose-“

You cut him off, “That’s the problem. You don’t do it on purpose. It’s harder to resent you that way.”

Resent him? What do you mean by that?

“I don’t… I don’t know what to do. You’re… you used to be a good boyfriend. Someone I wanted to marry… but you’re not that same person anymore. And I’m not sure if we can fix this… if you can fix yourself. I’m not a therapist… yet you treated me as one for years.”

Your shoulders slack and you don’t make an effort to look at him. You don’t make an effort to drink the wine either.

He can feel his heart breaking. What should he do? What can he do? Crying (a rare sight indeed) won’t do anything. It’ll only prove you right if he cries and begs for you to reconsider. He needs you to drink the wine. A good amount of it.

He takes another swing, enough to the point the glass is almost empty. Too much at once, he hasn’t even eaten yet. He wants to eat you. But not when you’re crying like this.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that I was that… inconsiderate.” Ever so slowly, he takes small steps towards you. You don’t resist when he gets on his knees, gently placing his head on your lap. His arms wrap around your legs. And, almost as if it was natural, your hand comes town to thread fingers through his hair.

Even when you ‘resent’ him, you still comfort him. You really were too good for him. But it’s because of that he doesn’t want to let go. No. he’d never let you go. He’ll drag you to hell if he has to.

“… To think the esteemed Diluc would beg on his knees… hah,” a humorless laugh that shakes him through his core. You sound tired, so, so tired. You’re really going to give up on him. Was he really that bad? Sure, maybe he overshared, at times, and was a bit controlling, but…

He never hit you. Never raised his voice at you.

He’s in denial. He doesn’t want to admit to his mistakes right now. He’ll do it (probably) after you two make up. He’ll do it once you say you won’t leave, that you won’t give up on him, on the relationship. You’re all he has left.

His father’s dead, his ‘brother’ is a spy, he can’t really get along with anyone on an emotional level. Anyone except you. You know this, so why are you putting him through this? Can’t you see he needs you?

God helps the poor soul would dare take you away.

“… I’m sorry. I really am,” useless, he’s so useless right now. Helpless, he hates himself, he hates you. “I… can’t lose you. I love you, you know that, right?” Like he wasn’t the one pushing you away with his behavior and actions.

He’s a horrible person, a dreadful and emotional abusive boyfriend. The naked eye can’t see it, but a trained one can. Likeminded people can. The victim can.

“Diluc… sit down, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick,” you run your fingers through his red mop of hair before retreating it. No, no, no, you can’t do that. You just can’t.

You have to drink the wine. You need to understand he’s protecting you. You need to understand he needs you. So, stay, please.

Don’t make things even more complicated.

“… do you love me?” He looks up, eyes glossy and he watches as your strong façade crumble. He was your weakness as you were his. You’re perfect for each other, however toxic the relationship may be.

“I… I don’t know anymore. I feel like I love you, but I know I shouldn’t.” Shaking your head, you gently push at his shoulders. The effort is weak, almost meaningless. He gives a squeeze before getting up and returning to his seat.

It’s when he sits down, head falling into his hands, when you take a swing. He hears you slam the glass on the mahogany wood. Hope lights up in his chest, but even so, it feels so wrong. But he needs to do this. For him. For you.

How selfish of a person he was.

“… I can’t promise I won’t fall back into the habit, but –“

“You said that last time. And here we are, again. You say you’ll do better, that you’ll listen. Sure, you do, but only for a week. And then the cycle repeats.” You sigh out, now crying, finally breaking down despite everything.

Sobs, ugly sobs that he hates to hear. He’s not sure when he got up, or how long he’s been hugging you, but he knows that you need comfort. Maybe not from him, but he’s the only one here anyway. The servants are outside, cleaning the yard, tending to the grapes, shooing of pests.

Just you and him. No-one will hear, and even if they did… who are they to question their boss? Money talks.

You stay like that, for a while. Crying in his arms as he strokes your hair. He’s not sure when you had stopped, and completely forgotten about the drug.

He only remembers it when his body starts to heat up. And the same must be said for you, as you’re quivering in his grasp. The way you quiver whenever he drags you across his crotch, erection making contact with your clothed pussy.

Like right now, your hips rolling against his as he practically dragged you to the couch in the study once you started to kiss out of pure lust. You’re panting above him, eyes shut tight. Maybe you didn’t want to see him. He hates it, but that’s okay. As long as you’re here, with him, and not thinking of another man.

“Fuck… my body’s hot. I’m scared yet I can’t stop… did you put something in the drink?” You question him, voice broken and breathy as you keep rolling your hips. Harder, faster, more friction, you need him as much as he needs you. He’ll get you, and you’ll have him.

Like it’s supposed to be.

“Are you… mmh… that weary of me?” You’re far too gone to properly hear him, chasing pleasure above answers. His gloved fingers tug at your skirt, wanting it off. He wants to see you bare. Patience... patience, he tells himself.

A squeal, mouth open and he can’t help but kiss you. saliva everywhere, any pretense of a breakup gone. For now. And yet you both don’t care, delving into the pits of pleasure that’ll never be enough. He bites your lips hard enough to draw blood, you claw at his neck deep enough to see crimson.

You hurt and take, hurt and take. You break his heart, he’ll break your mind on his cock. Just… be good.

“Diluc… wedding… I want to wait – oh! – but… ah… not sure if I can…” you’re groping yourself, thumb ribbing at where your nipple would be. Too many clothes, hot, clit throbbing while grinding against him like there’s no tomorrow. Diluc takes this chance to tease you, just a bit.

“Wedding… you still want to marry me?” There’s a slight teasing to it, and he proceeds to kiss your neck. Gently, gently, so gentle you want more. He wants to drive you crazy. “But, of course, if you want it now, I won’t say no…”

Another moan, another messy kiss. Your lips are raw by now, and you’re not sure when he dragged the front of your shirt down, sucking on the bare skin before him. He bites your neck, leaving marks, he gropes your breasts, your hands now tugging at his hair.

He hisses at the sting, but it only drives him to do more. His free hand dives under your dress, the skirt of it wrinkled now.

“Diluc… please, fuck, I need you,” you breathe out, grinding against his hand as he teases you through your underwear. Slowly, he brings his hand back, using his teeth to take his glove off. Almost, he’s almost there. He needs to loosen you up. Hopefully, hopefully this drug will help with the pain.

Ah. Blood.

He needs to do this in the bedroom, easier to change the sheets.

You’re naked in no time, and despite the drug running through your veins like fire, you’re still scared. Very scared, and he feels so horrible about it. and yet, yet he can’t stop himself for shit. He’s horrible, shitty, controlling, obsessive, possessive, and desperate. Paranoid to a fault, he plans on tying you to him via family.

It’s hard to raise a child on your own. Reputation is important, and everyone would lose respect for you, for a good while at first. And besides… they would know who the father was. If they inherit his features, be it the red hair or ruby eyes, they’ll know. They’ll blame one of you, both of you, taking one side or the other.

Thus, it’s just overall easier to stay together, avoiding controversy. A horrible and risky plan. But you would need the support, the funds, the father. It’s harder, nearly impossible to run away from him in such a state.

“Hey… it’ll be okay. I’ll take it slow, alright?” He reassures you, smiling down at you gently. He’s always imagined you like this – a panting mess, lips kiss swollen, hair sprayed around his pillow and your hair. Bite marks everywhere, nipples tendered from being sucked on so much.

He’ll make a mental note to be more gentle next time. But for now, he trails down his hand, fingers ghosting over your burning skin. Shaky breaths, and he can’t take his eyes off of the way you stare downwards. He’s naked too, his own hickies littering his neck like a necklace.

“G-gentle…,” you breathe out, legs shaking in both fear and anticipation. You can’t wait, and neither can he. So he doesn’t, tracking your slick slit once before slowly entering. A gasp, and h looks up to make sure you weren’t in too much pain.

Instead, he’s met with the sight of you biting your lips, pleasure written all over your face. The drug works, it’s helping with the pain. Making things far easier than he thought it would be. He’ll make sure to thank Albedo to the moon and back.

“Diluc…” He’s brought back to reality when you whimper his name, and he softly shushes you. If you say his name like that one more time, he might just slip in without any prep. Without any consideration.

“Shh… there’s no need to rush. Let’s try to take our time, okay?” He kisses your forehead, finger curling slightly inside you. The way you arch your back is heavenly, the drug making you far more sensitive. “I’ll take good care of you. Promise.”

Nodding, you relax, allowing him to add a second finger. It feels rushed despite his words, but you don’t comment on it. You can’t, not when he’s curling them oh so deliciously. And he knows this, he’s not completely lost in lust just yet. He needs to drown you in pleasure, drive you crazy with it before he succumb to his own desire completely.

Just a bit more.

The squelching echoes in his room, bouncing off the walls. His ribs had become a drum, his heart the stick. Small, needy breaths that leave your lips, crying out when he curls his fingers at a certain angle. Oh. He found it.

Your g-spot.

He’s heard of it, and thought it was rubbish at first. Until Adelinde smacked his head when he suggested such a thing. The Head Maid made sure to educate him on sex that day, showing diagrams and pictures, along with books written about the subject. He’s almost entirely forgotten about it.

“There?” he asks, repeating the action once more. You nod your head several times and in quick succession – too lucid to properly beg, too desperate to fully think it thoroughly. “Such a needy little thing,” a third finger elicits a hiss from you, causing him to pause. He waits until you give him the green light.

“It – it feels weird… but good at the same time. Is this normal?” Croaking, you’re croaking out sentences now, and Diluc resists the urge to kiss you until you run out of breath. Your fingers grasp at his shoulders, trembling slightly. He can’t tell if it’s from fear or pleasure.

For his own sanity, he hopes it’s the latter.

“I’m… not sure. I think it is. Just tell me if it’s too much, and I’ll slow down.”

He didn’t say he would stop.

Diluc sees the worry in your eyes, the questions he won’t answer, and he feels guilty. It’s far too late to stop, and even if you were to ask him of it, he wouldn’t be able to. So he gives you the illusion of choice, and from the way your eyes travel down to where he’s fingering you, he can only guess you chose to ignore the reasoning in your head. What a good girl you are for and to him. Like always.

“Diluc… Diluc…” your eyes shut tight, breathing heavier as he fastens his pace, fingers pumping in and out while curling all the same. You need this too, right? He can’t force you if you were the one who asked for it.

Your belly tightens, and hips grind against the hell of his palm. You’re almost there, he thinks. You’re becoming wild, all pretense of rationally gone with the wind. He’s there, he’s there, you’re there, shivering in the palm of his hand. Like you should be.

“Ah, ah, fuck!” One more buck of your hips and he feels something wet. Upon looking down, he notices something red, very thing and small, mixed with a clear liquid. Did you cum? He feels bad for making you bleed already*.

Your chest heaves, and for a moment, he’s afraid you’ll come back to your sense. You’ll hate him for sure. But his own body is burning, cock twitching, and he’s going to die if you resist. Please, just make everything simple and easy. Please, for both of your sakes.

He gives you time to recover despite the urge to fuck you silly. Patience, patience, at least pretend to be a gentleman he tells himself. Anything and everything for you. Except letting you go.

“Do you need a breather?” gently, gently he removes his fingers, trying his best to treat you nicely. He tries not to grit his teeth when you nod your head. He’s already doing something awful. He needs to make you comfortable, at the very least.

A few minutes before you calm down, laying flat on your back, hands leaving him and choosing to grip his sheets instead. You’re distancing yourself from him. A bit lucid, but enough to resist.

“Alright… please be gentle,” closing your eyes, your arousal is still there, you still need him as badly as he needs you. He doesn’t wait a second to hover above you properly. His place, this is his place, you’re his and will always be his. You signed your faith the moment you appeared in his life.

“Gentle…,” he tells himself, taking in a deep breath. It stings you when he pushes in, slowly and gentle like he promised. Hands grip your hips, and he leans back on his heels a bit. You gasp, from pleasure mostly, and he stills. Be a gentleman in appearance, at least.

One second, two seconds, and at ten he starts to move. a deep sigh of pleasure from you both, yours higher than his. The tone was different compared to when you dragged your hips across his, clothes separating you. But now, now he can feel everything – the thought of a condom never having crossed your mind once. Good, everything is sailing smoothly.

“You’re, ngh, tight… fuck, you’re driving me crazy angel.” Unexpectedly, you mewl at the nickname, and without meaning too, he gives a hard thrust. Fuck, you’re going to be the death of him. One thrust, two thrust, and you’re begging him to fuck you harder at the fifth one, legs wrapping around his waist and hands clawing at his chest.

He loves you like this; he wants you remain so needy for him. “Diluc! Fuck, don’t stop!” Both blood and slick cover his cock and make a mess on his bed. He’ll have to give you a warm towel after this, a glass of water. And a lie about cumming inside.

“It feels good, fuck why did we wait so long?” His hips can’t stop moving as he questions you. You don’t answer, you can’t when you’re moaning like a whore. And he loves it, he loves the fact that only he can make you this way. He loves the fact that he’ll be your first and last partner.

He might hurt a man who would dare to attempt to do the same.

It doesn’t last long, neither of you do. He makes sure to circle your clit with his thumb, wanting to bring you more pleasure. You needed to finish with him. You needed to be distracted from the feeling of his cum painting your womb white.

And when he does, he lets out a low groan, your squeal music to his ears. he holds you tight until his balls are empty. And ever so slowly pulls out, careful to not alarm you. His goal was done, and hopefully, this’ll be enough to get you pregnant.

If not, he’ll come up with other plans.

“I love you…” one of his hands comes down to wipe away the sweat from your forehead. Your skin is sticky, eyes dazed. It’s a sight he’ll never forget.

You don’t answer, not at first.

“I… I love you too.”

A soft peck and he’s up to soak a towel in warm water. You’re too tired to check your lower half, eyes closing against your will. But it’s okay, it’s Diluc after all. Surely, he wouldn’t do anything… right?

As for Diluc… he’s already coming up with baby names.

===

A/N:* - tmi but the very first time I got fingered, I bleed a bit lmao. I don’t know how it is for everyone else, so I just used my own experiences. Seriously though, acting like Diluc in this fic is fucked up. Please don’t do that.

#Yandere #tw:yandere #yandere genshin #yandere diluc #yandere genshin impact #yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc smut #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #diluc x reader

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kiwiana-writes · 4 months ago

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

A big ol' fuck you to @rmd-writes for the tag xoxo

1. How many works do you have an AO3? Lol. Lmao even. 289.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 914,620 on AO3, but that includes co-writes as well as things I've podficced where the fic and pod are in the same work. My actual personally-written wordcount, per my Batshit Spreadsheet, is 771,819.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Mostly RWRB these days, though most of my back catalogue is Schitt's Creek. Also The Pairing and various other things scattered about.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Kinda think that I might be his type aka Alex and Bea fake date coming in at the top spot, which will never not bewilder me. Don't get me wrong, it's a lovely fic!! But I am always surprised that it was a few hundred more kudos than:

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest), the Much Ado actors AU. My magnum opus, my beloved.

We were supposed to find this - baby's first soulmate AU and my first RWRB fic. The brainrot really took hold with this one lmao.

All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers, in which Henry takes 'open mouth insert foot' to a whole new level.

Warm like the glow that you feel head to toe, the age gap fic with older Senator Alex and younger Prince Henry. This is probably the only one in my top five that really surprises me, considering age gaps are... divisive.

5. Do you respond to comments? Always always always.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I mean I did write that one MCD fic in Schitt's Creek, though I maintain the other five parts in that 5+1 are in fact angstier than the MCD ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Uhhhhhhh, the rest? The Doylist answer is any of my fics where the HEA is literally forever rather than 'till death do us part'; so, the Schitt's Creek afterlife AU and the RWRB zombie!Alex AU. (Is that all? Am I forgetting one?)

8. Do you get hate on fics? Yeah, sometimes. Weirdly, more through tumblr anons than on the fics themselves? A lot of them I just delete, sometimes I'll give them a bit of a public scolding etc. Frankly at this point if you come into my ask box to be a cunt on anon I'm going to assume you have a public humiliation kink and will indulge you accordingly.

9. Do you write smut? Who's to say.

10. Do you write crossovers? I'm more inclined towards a fusion than a crossover (love a good media fusion) but I did write a short RWRB/The Pairing crossover for VoiceTeam.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope. Someone did ask recently, so we'll see!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? HEAPS. @ships-to-sail is an ongoing collaborator, but I also did a bunch of "each write a chapter" type collabs in Schitt's Creek. Currently co-writing something truly fucking incredible with @indestructibleheart.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? IDK if it's a WIP by the strictest definition, but every day the likelihood of the SC kink!verse series being completed slips further away lol.

16. What are your writing strengths? Rae, you're the worst.

Smut, I guess? Giving people new kinks, apparently. Character voice. Also a very specific type of world-building where I explain nothing because the characters already live in that world and let y'all infer how it works, which came up a LOT on one of this year's Kinktober fics in particular and led to my spouse saying "okay so you're basically the Brennan Lee Mulligan of tree fucking", which is sure not a sentence I expected to ever be directed towards me, but here we are.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Anything original, apparently. Good thing I didn't quit my job to be a writer or anything OH WAIT.

(In all seriousness, though, I am genuinely shit at, like, plotting. And action sequences.)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If it makes sense for the character, sure! I'm enlisting someone who speaks it for anything more complicated than, like, a pet name - I've seen what Google Translate tries to spit out for my second language and therefore don't trust it lmao.

19. First fandom you wrote for? terf queen mcgee's property.

20. Favourite fics you've written? The RWRB fic specifically based on the episode The Husbands of River Song from Doctor Who. Hands down the best thing I've ever written.

I also fucking LOVED the Much Ado actor AU. My love letter to Shakespeare and theatre and queer joy.

Tagging @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517 @cricketnationrise @firenati0n @getmehighonmagic

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart @inexplicablymine @notspecialbabe @orchidscript

@piratefalls @sherryvalli @sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play!

#20 questions for fic writers #kiwiana-writes

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gingergofastboatsmojito · 4 months ago

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"After stuckness comes unstuckness"

Reasons why we won

Been working on this meta for 3 days now, but it's worth it.

This confirms what I have been saying in my #Gingerpovs all along. Remember to follow that tag if you want to have a more comprehensive and historical perspective about my meta (and Sydcarmy predictions that have checked out so far), here's what I curated so far in preparation for S4, or as I always called it: The Sydcarmy ENDGAME season.

But first: Let's not forget that Landgraf is a Disney employee and so is Storer.

Here we go, please watch:

Source: Ringer Movies

“You’re at the point now where if you want more than one season of pickup, we can do it. And it may help you because you have actors that are movie stars now; they’re going to want to go do other things, and you can figure out when you’re going to make the shows and when to release them.” And they said, “No, we can’t work that way. We only want one season.” So we picked up one.

What Landgraf is not saying is that this convo he's referring to happened right after S2's amazing numbers started coming in, back in 2023.

Before the Grand Slam happened in Q1 2024:

So this "change of heart" that Storer had when he called Landgraf back once he already got to work on S3 to accept the 4th season that had previously been offered and turned down, took place right after DISNEY FX offered him an obscenely higher amount of money to reconsider, right AFTER THE GRAND SLAM. So Storer had material for a 4th season but ONLY IF he made S3 the LEGERDEMAIN season it ended up being, meaning if he saved for later THE MEAT THE SYDCARMY ENDGAME. And even then Storer said: "I can split the material I have in 2 seasons but only if I have total creative freedom for S3 and can make of it what I please", which BTW was never off the table, but he specifically agreed under that condition because he wanted to deliver a season that he knew was gonna be heavy on the 'stuckness' and mental health breakdown and how the road to recovery from trauma is not linear and it affects everyone else around, like in his real life, aka: an unpopular season.

So instead of delivering a final 3rd season that was 50%/50% (50% blue period / 50% rosé and ending on a happy note), he went for the 3rd season we all watched (100% blue) and a 4th and final season where all that "Stuckness" is gonna get unstuck, as Landgraf is SPOILING (The rosé period where they are gonna win the Star, which I think will be the scenario where Sydcarmy will blossom, because by the time they rotate to the SPRING MENU, the star will be announced, seeing as the spring menus are typically the Masterpieces of all Michelin starred restaurants, so they will most likely win it with it)

But the scripts for S4's last lap (THE SERIES FINALE) are still in the WR as we speak, the reason being that by the time that "double season pickup" was agreed upon (when Storer was offered more money) and that's why he changed his mind, HE DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH MATERIAL FOR A 4TH SEASON, HE HAD TO YET COME UP WITH IT:

He may have had a 4th season in mind like I have at least 4 more FF I wanna write and have already been thinking about, some of which I have already plotted, sure! But no, I don't have them yet. So that was a white lie or a literary license Landgraf took when telling this story, TIMING MATTERS.

How will Storer go about that "unstuckness"?

Like this:

Please note that Screenrant used to be a C person stand when Storer was still trying to make that character happen. Now they don't seem to remember her name :)

It all points to Syd, as I always anticipated:

Moreover, it all points to Sydcarmy:

Check the Bonus Track please:

And there is more that Screenrant article is spoiling with complete and total greenlight of Disney and Storer themselves because if you think that Bear S4 INFOMERTIAL was published on the same day as the 2025 Disney promo, S4 teaser and just a couple of weeks after Landgraf said, and I quote:

"THOSE THAT HAVE STAYED WITH IT, THEY'RE GOING TO BE REALLY WELL REWARDED."

think again.

He is in other words saying, all those things you have been bitching about, aka: LACK OF SYDCARMY, LESS CALO, STUCKNESS, and more stuff I went over here, WILL BE TAKEN CARE OF and it's NOT GONNA BE ANOTHER "UNPOPULAR" SEASON. JUST BE PATIENT.

So, that means that we, truthers, may end up having to thank Donna for being THE plot device who brings Syd & Carmy together. Let's not fall into the red herring's trap Storer set for us in that teaser. She's not a DANGER as we all first thought, this new Donna, is a bridge that will connect her son, once he buries the hatchet with her and Syd together. If we think about it, one of the main reasons why Carmy and Syd are not together yet is his trauma, and Donna and his troubled relationship with her are the root cause of it, so once Carmy heals that trauma, having a healthy and loving relationship with a woman, any woman, will be attainable. AKA: BYE C / HI HELLO SYD (which would finally make the edition of the scene below make total sense).

Scratch the "could" because we already know she stayed and signed the agreement as I have been announcing since FOREVER and not just because I'm a truther but because it makes sense plot-wise in terms of Carmy's redemption arc.

Bonus track: UNDER THE TABLE SYDCARMY PODCAST 20TH EP For more details about S4 and more predictions and theories, etc, please listen to our podcast on Mixcloud.

Shoutout to @unladyboss for the YT vid.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

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hongjoongspoetry · 1 month ago

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hongjoongspoetry's tumblr wrapped, 2024

Thank you @bvidzsoo for the tag!! 🩷

2024 review

2024 was the year I really got into writing for ateez. I've been writing fanfics since middle school and used to be in a lot of different fandoms. I used to post on wattpad, but was never consistent or managed to finish any of my stories. Ateez is the first group/fandom that I've really kept writing for a long period of time and not lost interest in, plus I've also managed to write complete oneshots and am almost even done with my first series (ever)!!!

Total statistics of 2024

- no. of fics: 8 - wc: 151.3K - no. of wips: 9

Genres explored in 2024

Horror, action, romance, dystopia, historical, sports fiction, slice of life, comedy, pirate fics (that one's in the drafts but it was written in 2024), can't forget the golden trio of fluff, smut and angst!!

first fic of 2024: Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches

- posted: feb 17th - pairing: Idol!San x F!Reader - comments: I believe this was my first ever ateez fic and it was actually "self indulgent" too. As stated in the author's note, I have a fear of giving birth and it's known in my primary family, but no one takes my fear seriously. So, back then, wrote the things I needed to hear in the moment and it was to have someone be understanding of my feelings.

longest fic: Bones, Blood and Teeth Erode

- posted: oct 8th - pairing: non idol!Yunho x F!Reader - comments: I never imagined to write something pushing 40k words!!! I'm actually amazed and proud of myself for finishing it. It was certainly a challenge as BBATE wasn't anything I've written before.

last fic: A Love Written in Gold | Chapter 1

- posted: nov 8th - pairing: Proletarian!Hongjoong x Nobility!Reader - comments: I'm so excited for this fic and everything I've planned for it!! I was originally not going to post it until Cold Hands, Warm Heart was done, but I couldn't hold myself from writing lmaooo.

top 3 most popular fics of 2024

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches

- posted: feb 17th - pairing: Idol!San x F!Reader - comments: so this is getting quite repetitive 😭 it is what it is lmaoo, im just happy people could find comfort in my writing. Back then, I didn't expect it to get the attention it did or that people would reach out and tell me how much they feel seen.

Too Sweet

- posted: apr 24th - pairing: Upcoming rockstar!Yunho x F!Reader - comments: This fic is entirely inspired by Hozier's Too Sweet. I was obsessed with that song when it came out and I think I listened to it on REPEAT. I just had to write a fic to it and at the time, it was the longest fic I had eve written!

Baby, Love Me Lights Out

- posted: sep 21st - pairing: Idol!San x GN!Reader - comments: okay so this one, I just wrote it for shits and giggles 😭 that was the day I learned just how much atiny love drunken san lmaooo.

mina's personal picks

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

- posted: jun 3rd - pairing: hockey player!mingi x figure skater!reader - comments: this is my fav fic (series) from 2024! I've always wanted to do an ice sports fanfic, but never really had the time nor like "knowledge" to do it when I was younger lmao. I have so many ideas for this fic and this universe overall because the other boys will have their own stories later on, so they are all connected!! AND we get small cameos/easter eggs in each series of what the other boys' fics will be about! Although there are a lot of readers who liked CHWH, I'm still a bit sad it didn't get more recognition as I did put in a lot of thought behind it, but I'm still happy its almsot done. Mainly because it's my first ever series and well, I just love the characters I've created

A Love Written in Gold

- posted: oct 8th - pairing: Proletarian!Hongjoong x Nobility!Reader - comment: Okay, so season 3 of bridgerton really sparked this idea of writing a bridgerteez fanfic and I just had to write something for my bias! I'm a sucker for the forbidden love trope so this was the perfect fic to use it for lmaooo. No, but this is also a fic I have so so so much to planned for and I really can't wait to share it with you!! It's also really fun to write, which I can say I don't feel the same for some fics. If you have time and love bridgerton, I advice you to give it a chance!

2025 goals

One of my goals for 2025 is to write more and publish more fics than I did in 2024, but I don't know if I will achieve it as I'm swimming in work from uni hahah. If not, then I at least wish to finish my series cold hands, warm heart and a love written in gold before 2025 ends. I also want to start writing the next instalment Puzzle Pieces!

No pressure tags: @ennysbookstore @solaris-amethyst @seongwars @desirehorizon @everyonewooeverywhere + anyone else who wants to do this! 🩷

#[🏷️] tag games #ateez

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svmjaeyvn · 1 year ago

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love maze, s.jy.

chapter two pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER TWO: INTOXICATING

previous masterlist next

word count: 1.9k

warnings: alcohol, partying, mentions of yeonjun for funzies, jake thinking with his dick even after what just happened so sort of questionable???

a/n: bare with me i’m trying to build the plot a little bit

YOU DIDN’T KNOW how you ended up back at the frat house. Truly, the party was in full swing and after dealing with the encounter that you did, it would've made the most sense to go home and cry it all out, maybe eat some ice cream for dinner and watch a few romcoms. But that wasn't the case due to Yunjin sending you a text saying how she wouldn't be coming home for the night, the date seemingly going well and you didn't have it in you to ruin her night by telling her of yours.

Thus, uncomfortable with being left alone, you opted to go the other route and surround yourself with as many people as possible. Though, the boys hadn't wandered far, keeping you in sight at all times and Jay particularly staying by your side no matter how many times you told him to still enjoy himself knowing how much of a social butterfly he was a majority of the time. Your work uniform was disregarded in his room, changed into a spare pair of flare jeans and lacy top to fit in with the party, courtesy of the few clubbing nights you went to with him and ended up spending the night, leaving your clothes in his dirty laundry after stealing large hoodies and sweats.

All bad things could be washed away with alcohol, or so they said. Thus, you were on your fourth round of shots in the last 30 minutes with a random group who made their way in the kitchen, never one to have been a lightweight but typically better at timing your drinking. Jay was growing particularly antsy by your actions, knowing you were acting out of the need to forget but he didn't want to let you drink irresponsibly.

"Why don't you slow down a bit, yeah teeny?" Jay asks, leaned close to your ear for you to hear over the loud blaring of music. Attempting to take away the can of Twisted Tea, something you typically hated by the taste but tonight didn't seem to care, while you pull it back with a pointed look.

"I'm fine," You emphasize, words clear and steady, the alcohol not hitting you yet much to your relief. Glancing around, you make eye contact with the umpteenth girl who had been shooting daggers your way for keeping Jay occupied thus far. "If you don't go away I'm gonna end up getting jumped tonight by your fangirls," You add with a small snort.

Jay followed your gaze, turning to the girl who's face morphed from a glare into a sickenly sweet smile as she waved at him with a bite of her lip, attempting to be seductive but he merely snorts at the gesture. "Pretty sure she got chlamydia from a dude in the drama department,"

You scrunched up your nose, finding the information one you didn't need to know. "At least you know better than to fuck anyone that offers," Taking a long sip of your drink once more, the slight burn in your throat becoming easier to bare. "Alright, I'm gonna go dance. You go do anything else,"Jay shakes his head almost immediately causing you to send him a bored look. "I'm fine dude, honest. You need to stop worrying so much. Nothing actually happened,"

"You're not in the right headspace," He protests but you let out a small snort.

"Jesus, dude, you act like an overprotective brother,"

"I am!" Jay defends while you shake your head.

"We're not even related!" You shoot back but his jaw drops in offense.

"We were born a week apart, our moms have been friends since high school. We're basically twins, I know you better than yourself," He lists off, deeply concerned by the way you were disregarding your twins in another life theory that your families always joked of since you were young.

"I'm definitely not your twin, you know why?" You start, standing up from the kitchen island with a small smirk playing at your lips. Your head began to feel fuzzy, the start of your buzz coming and the tension from earlier leaving you slowly but surely. "I'm hotter," You finish, a cocky look playing at your features while Jay rolls his eyes.

"Right, and which one of us gets laid?"

"Hey!" You hiss, waggling a finger in his direction. "I don't hook up by choice. Y'all are nasty,"

"And because you're a hermit who doesn't see the light of day," He snickers causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

Decidedly having enough of the banter, you merely spin on the heels of your feet. "Bye Jay!" You call over your shoulder making your way toward the living room which was lively and loud, body's meshed together and dancing to whatever song that was blaring through the speakers that sounded through the house.

Jay let out a sigh of defeat, pulling out his phone to do a headcount of where everyone was. Thankfully, Heeseung and Jake were in the general area you were, him asking them to keep an eye on you for the time being and getting a thumbs up in response.

Heeseung was on the dance floor, a random girl he never met before tonight swaying herself pressed up against his hips. He looked lively, a few more shots in and just wanting to mess around for the time being. You spotted the tall boy momentarily in the jumble of people who nodded over to you ensuring that you were okay, a nod you returned reassuring him and he took it as enough to go back to his business.

Meanwhile, Jake was on the sidelines, leaned up against the wall as he spotted you the moment you walked over. Far too caught up with the events from earlier, he found it hard to enjoy himself, feeling partially sorry for you but also having an unpleasant pit in his stomach, not necessarily angry but he couldn't exactly pinpoint it.

He continued to sip at the cup of punch Jungwon had conducted up, only drinking it due to how excited the younger boy was of his creation but it was entirely too strong for anyone to stomach more than one cup.

His eyes continued to glance over you, taking in each of your curves that was showed off by the tightness of your jeans. They hugged your ass in the right places, emphasizing the perky shape before beginning to flare out from the knee down. The lacy black top was cropped, showing a good portion of your stomach due to the mid rise of your pants, the deep v-plunge neckline providing more to the imagination in seeing your breast that were pushed up with your bra. The shiny gleam that came off of your naval piercing catching Jake by surprise, having to do a double take to ensure he was seeing things correctly.

You were attractive, that was obvious enough. Although slightly shameful, he couldn't help but rake his eyes over you, thoughts filling his head imagining what it would be like to have you under him, staring up with that daze-y doe eyed look that would make him bend to of any of your desires.

But there was a problem with that. He wasn't the only one with eyes, able to see you and the way you swayed your body to the music, your tiny waist and full thighs that he wanted to die between if so lucky. Jake took note of the few guys who's glances began to wander toward you, even ones who had already claimed their fuck buddies for the night and danced alongside them all while drooling at you who danced by yourself.

He watched as a familiar face make his way toward you. Choi Yeonjun, cool dude to be friends with, horrible guy to date. His reputation preceded him in more ways than one, notorious for stringing girls along week by week and the worst part was they knew of his doings. It was embarrassing how they fought to be his newest toy for the day, a sort of achievement to the girls he's strung along to say they've ticked hooking up with Yeonjun off their list.

Yeah, not happening. Jake didn't know if it was due to him still feeling protective due to you unintentionally calling him for help, or rather the more sinful thoughts that passed through his head moments ago and not wanting to sit and watch you to become a new trophy to a guy like Choi Yeonjun.

Picking himself up from where he was leaned back, Jake took a large swig of his now lukewarm concoction of liquors. Weaving his way through the crowd, he pushes his way to you just as Yeonjun stops in front of your view.

Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, Jake leans close to your ear. "Go along with it," He whispers, catching you by surprise as you were previously engrossed by the music in your own little world, unaware that two of the most lusted over guys at the party were having a silent debate over you at the moment.

Feeling the alcohol now coursing through your bloodstream, you obliged by Jake's words. Continuing on without a word of protest, though you did take the red solo cup from his hand and took a sip from it as you adapted to dancing with him now. Scrunching up your nose upon the drink hitting your tongue, you look at Jake with an incredulous look of disgust in his beverage choices causing him to laugh.

"Jungwon made it," He explains with a small shrug, leaning dangerously close to your face as his breath lightly fanned against your lips. Peering over your shoulder, a small smirk plays at his features seeing as Yeonjun had disappeared from your sight, decidedly giving up on any sort of chance he was attempting to have with you for the night.

"It sucks," You respond back and yet still take another sip, this time longer as you quickly swallow it without time for it to settle on your tongue. Jake's smile turns into one of amusement, watching as you handled the alcohol as if it were nothing before you placed the cup back in his hold. "You either dance with me or go away, your pissing contest with that dude is over now,"

Jake raised a brow. "Pissing contest?"

"You know, marking territory that's not yours," You shoot back, a bored look sent to him as he sheepishly shrugs. "I don't need you being protective like Jay. For one, we barely know each other and two, I'm not that much of an idiot to hook up with Choi Yeonjun no matter how badly I need to get laid. So you either shut up and dance with me or you go away,"

Already rather blunt as it was, the second you got alcohol in your system you tended to be more unfiltered than necessary. Jake finds amusement in your confession but your eyes seem so certain. Though the slight gleam in them as you looked up caused his stomach to do a flip, one that caused him to not think clearly.

Jake didn't respond, instead his arm slips down from your shoulders down to your waist, snaking around and encasing your body against his own. A small smile perks at your lips, sighing blissfully at his lack of commentary and rather allowing you to do as pleased.

"Good choice," You mumble out, breath fanning against his neck as your arms lazily drape from his neck, brining your bodies dangerously close to one another though neither of you minded.

After all, having a little fun with a hot guy never hurt anyone, right?

#enhypen jake #jaeyun x reader #jaeyun smut #jake sim #enhypen #sim jaeyun

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lanitalay · 1 year ago

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Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 7

a/n Hiiiii, new chapter yay. Last post I got a request for a tag list, let me know if you're interested in something like that! Also, I'm going to try to keep up the writing schedule I have now so you can expect new chapters every 2-3 days.

word count: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of a knife and throw up

Other chapters

Hot, humid breath fans the back of your neck as someone or something holds you tight. You struggle against the restraint to no avail. Whatever is holding you has canines that nick and poke at the back of your head. You stiffen as you feel hot liquid rolling down your back, unsure if it's sweat or blood. You’re being pushed and dragged by this monster. It’s a familiar forest, a universe away. Claws press into your hips and you cry out as you feel them press through skin and scrape against bone. You wake mid gasp. Nightmare. That was just a nightmare. It had been a while since you thought of that forest. It was a trap. You had no proof but also no doubt. The lack of light seeping through the curtains let you know it is way too early to start your day. So you focus on breathing hoping sleep takes over soon.

When you went to breakfast the next morning you were relieved to find the dining room empty. After last night you didn’t know how to interact with Azriel, having told him things that not even your closest friends from home know. So you eat in silence and try to forget about last night, the nightmare and the dread that threatened to spill over whenever you were undistracted for longer than fifteen minutes.

When you walked into the library Gwyn approached you immediately “Y/n! I’m so glad you are back, yesterday we found something and waiting to tell you has been tortuous” blood drains from your face and you swear your heart stops for a few beats. “What do you mean?” She walks over to a table with at least twenty books sprawled across it. “There is this book that talks about opening portals with a series of symbols, they are extremely intricate and the portal working depends on making the symbols perfectly but it’s totally doable. Then in this book there is a description of different realms that have been accessed by these portals. So, in theory we would just need to figure out which symbols lead to your realm” she finishes and looks at you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a face. “I… that’s incredible Gwyn, thank you”. You are terrified to get excited about the news. If it doesn’t work… But if it does then that means a way home. “Don’t thank us yet, we still have to figure out the combinations for your realm but I think it should be done by the end of the week”. Jesus, that’s soon. You spend the rest of the day in a daze, fetching books, picturing your life back home and coming up with explanations for your absence.

By the time dinner rolls around you are starved. “Oh, hi” Azriel half smiles at you “hello, y/n”. You sit in your usual seat across from him, “I’m starving”, fill your plate and begin eating. “How was your day?” You pause your chewing and look at his eyes for the first time since last night “oh, it was alright” you take a sip of water “Gwyn told me that they found something on portals, I could be going home in a few days”. Telling Azriel you’re leaving was hard, goodbye suddenly on the horizon. He takes a few beats to reply “are you happy to be going back?” Right now, you are regretting everything you told him last night. You take a bite and nod. He continues, trying to fill the silence “I’m not surprised Gwyn found a solution so fast. She’s one of the most talented researchers in the library” you nod again. It was true, Gwyn was brilliant, but you didn't appreciate the jealousy that flashed through your chest. That’s something to unpack later. “How was your day?” He looks a little surprised by the question, having accepted that you weren’t in the mood for conversation “it was… productive. Training was good and I got word from one of the spies on the Continent”. You never know what to say when Azriel talks about his position as Spymaster, he didn’t offer details and you didn’t want to pry. You had a feeling that asking too many questions would make you seem suspicious and since you depend on the mercy of the Night Court for food and shelter you thought minding your business was the prudent thing to do. “I haven’t seen Mor in a while, what’s she up to?” His shoulders relax a bit “she’s in the Court of Nightmares for a few days”. Right. The Court of Dreams and Court of Nightmares dichotomy. “And Cassian?” you try to hide the little smirk that will give away your plan to annoy him. “He’s in Windhaven until tomorrow”. He’s so serious. “And Elain?” “Probably at the River House” “And Lucien?” “Somewhere in the human lands, maybe the Spring Court” “and Amren?” “I actually haven’t seen her since last week”. “What about Eris?” He stills. “How do you know Eris?”. His face hardened at the mention of the heir of Autumn. “He came to talk to Lucien at the Manor, I thought I had mentioned it” “you didn’t”. Pivoting, you ask “Nesta?” He runs his hand through his hair “uhm, tonight is girls night so she’s with Gwyn and Emerie getting drunk and gossiping”. That sounds fun. “You know, I meant what I said about teaching you how to use a knife. I could teach you a few self defense techniques before you go” your mind goes to the knife you’re still keeping in your boot “I’d really appreciate that, Azriel. I’m so tired of being easy prey, I wanna be able to put up a fight”. “Great, meet me here at dawn” he gets up “sleep well” and walks away. Dawn?

You’re tired, but there's too much on your mind. So after dinner you find yourself at the library where Nesta keeps all of her romances. “I swear Cassian steals my novels and uses the smut as inspiration” their three distinct laughters fill the room. You chuckle as Emerie goes to pour herself wine but Nesta snatches the bottle before and pours a glass for herself. “Do you mind if I crash your girls night?” the Valkyries look at you, not having noticed your presence and you hear an excited “eeek” as Gwyn tackles you. “Beautiful y/n of course you can join us! Here, have some wine” she hands you a glass that’s full to the brim and you take a few healthy sips “we were gossiping about the boys”. Nesta raises her eyebrows “y/n, be careful with that wine, it’s not meant for humans” you gulp. “Oh god, what’s gonna happen to me?” Nesta laughs “nothing, it’s just really strong. Anyway, he thinks I don't notice but last night he basically played out the bath scene from that novel we read last week” all of you giggle “lucky girl” Emerie teases. “What about you, y/n? Any good gossip to share with the group?” You sip the wine, already feeling light headed “not really”. Nesta’s eyes glitter with something you can’t quite place as she says “has anything happened with Azriel?” she wiggles her brows and you choke. Seeing her this playful is unusual and the idea about you and Azriel is so absurd “no, he’s just been a friend” “I’m sure he wants to be more than that…” you shake your head, sipping more wine. “Not even one kiss?” Emerie asks “not even a hug” she frowns “bummer”. You feel pressured to tell them something interesting so you say “you didn’t hear it from me, but I think there’s something going on with Vassa and Jurian”. The hours fly by between the wine, the stories and the speculating. It is almost dawn when you knock on Azriel’s door.

“Y/n?” his sleep laced voice echoes in the hallway. You hiccup “Azriel there is no way I can train with you”. “You joined girls night” he states “you spied on us?” He crosses his arms across his chest “it’s my job”. “You are just nosy,” he yawns, “can I help you with something?” “I’ve been keeping a secret,” you whisper. The dim hallway conceals the way his face pales at your confession “what do you mean?” You look around, double checking nobody else is here and step closer to him. He’s tall, much taller than you so you grab his shirt and he leans forward to meet you at eye level. He’s pale and stiff as a board as you move your face closer to his, until your lips are just about to touch his ears and in the softest voice he’s ever heard say “I think it was a trap”. He pulls away slightly to look at your face, maybe you’re messing with him. But the worry pouring from your eyes lets him know you are not joking. “I think whoever opened the portal used me to test it out”. He’s wide awake now and your eyes are droopy. “Why do you think that?” You yawn and rub your eyes. “I need to get to bed” he grabs your forearm and asks again “y/n, why do you think that?” Your eyes are basically closing themselves and you mumble “cause, there were no sounds and-” another yawn cuts you off. Azriel straightens up and leads you to your room, he’ll ask more questions tomorrow. He pulls the covers from your bed and you collapse on top of all the decorative pillows. Azriel places the covers over you and lets you sleep.

You feel the pounding in your head before you even open your eyes. After a few minutes you open your eyes and close them again. A couple of more minutes you open them again. It takes a moment to build up the courage to move to a sitting position. Once you do, your gut flips and you bolt to the bathing room, emptying the contents of your stomach. Cold sweat coats your forehead and your back. You sigh, defeated. Slowly, you splash your face with cold water and return to your bed but stop when you see something on your bedside table. A note, a smokey looking beverage, bread and butter. You pick up the note and admire the precise calligraphy “Drink this tonic for your hangover. The lesson has been moved to after lunch. Meet me on the terrace. Bring the knife. Azriel”. You don’t really remember your conversation from last night but you guess you were drunk enough that Azriel figured you would not be getting up for the lesson. You take a few bites of the bread and sip the concoction and gag at the foul taste. Then, you collapse on the bed, having a few more hours to sleep before your lesson.

You feel much better when you wake up the second time, managing to tie your hair with a ribbon and putting on your old leggings, a fleece tunic and your boots. When you walk onto the terrace you shiver. The wind lets you know that Autumn has fully set in. “Good morning” the shadow singer greets with a teasing smirk. “Thank you for the provisions” you approach him, rubbing your arms for warmth “maybe we could have the lesson in an ice box, it would be less windy”. “You have to be prepared for the elements, y/n. Where’s the knife?” You pull it from your boot “right here” and wave it around, pretending to attack him. “So, the first thing to know is to not wave it around like that” he’s serious now. I hate when he gets all monotone. “Let’s start by seeing what you would do if you were immobilized”. Fast as lightning he lunges towards you and grabs you, pinning both arms to your sides. You shriek, not expecting that “Azriel this is ridiculous” he doesn’t let up “didn't Lucien drag you across an entire forest while you tried to get away?” You huff “that’s not fair, I would have gotten free but he knocked me against a tree”. “You were too slow, you have to learn to react on instinct. Now, try to get away” you swear he gripped you even tighter. You begin to thrash, trying to headbutt him, biting, scratching, pinching, screaming, but nothing works. Until you begin to kick your legs wildly and knee his groin. He groans and his hold on you falters for a second. You bring your hands to his chest and push him away while ducking. It’s messy but you get away. Until a calloused hand grabs your shoulder and your back meets his chest again only this time there's a blade pressed to your neck. “And then you’re dead” you roll your eyes “I think I did a great job” he lets you go and you immediately miss his warmth “I think we have a lot of work to do”. You stay on the terrace until nightfall and by the end of the lesson you are able to use the knife, more or less.

You’re walking towards the dining room when Azriel asks “do you remember what you told me last night?” Oh god what did I say? “No, things got hazy half way through Gwyn’s story about some ribbon cutting ceremony… or something to that effect”. He stops walking and lowers his voice “you told me you think the portal was a trap, is that true?” Your throat goes dry and you nod. “I’m sorry I woke you up for that, it’s just a thought I had” he insists “why?” You let out a breath and explain your reasoning. The dead air, the lack of life around the circle, the mist that caged you in and the feeling of being watched. He nods, taking all of it in. You feel embarrassed. He probably thinks I’m crazy. “I’ll contact my spies to see if they’ve seen anything recently” you appreciate it, you really do but you can’t go down this spiral again “can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m starving”. You reach the dining room and are greeted by the smell of food and Nesta and Cassians conversation. “Y/n! Glad to see you on two feet, Nesta was worried you died after last night” you roll your eyes and sit down. “How did you feel today?” Nesta asked “I threw up when I woke up but Azriel left me a drink that helped with the hangover” you pretend you don’t notice Nesta’s raised brows.

The following morning you return to the library and see Gwyn writing notes in a notebook. “Hi Gwyn”. “Oh, hi y/n.” she doesn’t look up “I’m copying the symbols we think might lead to your realm. If you’d like we can try it out right now, we just need to find an open space and some paint” A few minutes later she finishes and frowns when she sees your expression “what’s wrong?” “Do you think this could actually work?” She looks unsure “maybe”.

#acosf #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #acofas #acotar fanfiction #lucien vanserra #jurian acotar #acomaf #rhysand #acotar #reader x azriel #reader x eris #eris vanserra #eris acotar #slow burn #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #mutual pining

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fandomfluffandfuck · 6 months ago

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Have you seen the movie gifted? It never fails to make me cry, Chris does so well in it and so does Makena god that girl knows how to act.

Honestly one of my favourite movies to date, father daughter duos are my fave. Chris acting as a parental figure is so sweet!! And who doesn't love a rough exterior guy who's good with kids.

It always loops me around to thinking about Steve having a kid dropped on him and having to navigate being a father, maybe a one night stand turned baby mama 9 months later who wants nothing to do with a baby.

Steve would be such a good dad too, I know he'd want the best for his kid. He'd have a big freak out initially and struggle but once he gets used to it a bit more he just loves it. He loves his kid and he knew that as soon as he laid eyes on the kid but now he actually has time to sit and just FEEL it. His little baby has his eyes and it makes him want to sit and cry.

One winter soldier saga later, Bucky is back and finds out Steve has a kid, maybe 2 or 3 at this point. Bucky is nervous staying with Steve while he's healing to begin with but with a kid in the house? No way. Steve manages to wrangle him to stay and Bucky and the baby actually form a little bit of a cute connection.

When Steve and Bucky find their romantic side again and Bucky is free from the hydra shit in his head, they really form their own little family. And god the domesticity of it all makes me want to cry and sob and cry. They'd both be such good dads and sooo protective, the best protected kid around I'm sure you can imagine.

I can totally see Steve and Bucky being the type of parents to be anxious messes when their baby starts school and their kid is as confident as ever, not even looking back as they run off to find friends.

Ragggh it just makes me wanna cry.

Parent Stucky for life 💔💔‼️‼️

I haven't seen Gifted (note my tag "watch? party?" lol). But, from the clips/gifs on Tumblr, it seems really sweet and like, yeah, they both do wonderfully in it!

Even though I haven't seen it, it's still wild to me whenever I realize just how old McKenna is now, haha. Like, she's still acting, but most often, because I'm not an avid consumer of movies/TV/series, I come across her in the music scene and like... when did this little girl turn into a teenage punk rock icon? 💀💀

I love it.

"And who doesn't love a rough exterior guy who's good with kids."

I have no idea! I don't even want kids personally, or really like kids all that much (I didn't grow up around younger kids and so they're a total mystery to me, lol) and it still gets me, lmao. Especially when it's Chris and/or stucky.

Steve would be such a good dad, yeah!! He'd take after his mama and be great at it <3 Definitely an adjustment, too, but he can handle it.

"He loves his kid and he knew that as soon as he laid eyes on the kid but now he actually has time to sit and just FEEL it. His little baby has his eyes and it makes him want to sit and cry."

I am so amused by the idea that Steve either continues to have accidental children with one night stands because, one, that's just funny to me, two, how carried away can you get, wouldn't you learn your lesson after one misstep, no matter how much you love your baby, wrap that super dick up, Steven, and, three, not so funny, but I can actually see that happening because if this is canon Steve, why would people stop at trying to steal his blood? They'd probably also want his super serum babies, too. Then, maybe it's not that he's forgetting to wrap it before he taps it, but those pretty gals are poking holes in his condoms, acting as more heads of HYDRA 👀

So, my addition to this is me saying more kids. Not just one. By the time Bucky shows up, I want him to have two or three, haha. Like, Bucky is so fucking confused. He's like, there is one child... okay, there are two?... wait. THREE?! STEVEN, I TOLD YOU TO NOT DO ANYTHING STUPID UNTIL I GOT BACK. WHY DO YOU HAVE THREE OFFSPRING. AND--w-without me? 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh my god, though, yeah, Bucky is reeling from that. He doesn't know what to make of it. He is very much refusing at first, but I think it would end up being really good for him.

Besides, it's cute. Steve feels very, very domestic with a kid (or two) and Bucky in his house.

Exactly! The domesticity! Just their little family. Adorable <3

Oh, for sure, they're anxiety ridden parents. They both got to therapy ('cause god they need it), and they go to therapy together, and their therapist is constantly, gently reminding them that they shouldn't be so overprotective or helicoptering their kid(s). Like, sure, it's logical for the kid(s) of Captian America and The Winter Soldier, but it's only logical to a certain extent. Their baby needs to be able to have alone time and develop their own independence, too. They're teaching their kid(s) and learning themselves, too.

If you're still in the mood for kid fics, might I suggest:

"Setting: In A Honeymoon" by me

and

"you will always be my favorite form of loving" by thiccbuckybarnes

and that's it because I don't normally read kid fics myself, haha

#asks #watch? party?#anon provided writing #fic rec #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #au #parent stucky #kid fic

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chirp-a-chirp · 2 months ago

Text

Transcendence

Plot: A song about unconditional love has profound meaning for two of Rhodolite’s princes. A series of six stories featuring Clavis and Leon (and their eventual partners, Cassandra and Carla) and how this song is interwoven throughout their lives.

Alternate Twist: The song is Calum Scott’s Biblical. This piece of fiction reimagines Clavis’s mom Lady Leticia writing the song for her son. Song lyrics referenced are indented throughout the stories.

Characters: Clavis Leouch; Lady Leticia; Leon Dompteur; The Fourth Prince; Carla (OC for Leon); Richard Demandeur (Carla’s Dad); Cassandra (OC for Clavis)

Tags: Angst and Feels; fluff; unconditional love (romantic and non-romantic); OCs; mentions of slavery, terminal illness, and death of parents; route spoilers for Clavis and Leon; sparkles...lots of sparkles

Tags Part 2: @wistfulwanderingone @ikeprinces-stuff @reborn-elven-spirit Hope y’all like this! @wistfulwanderingone thank you for letting me write this piece featuring your lovely OC Cassandra! (Seriously folks, check out her blog to learn more about Cassandra and Clavis!)

Note: There is list of characters & character pictures (OC pics thanks to neka) for each story. While each story can be read independently, the stories interweave and connect. If there's a callback to a previous story, it will be in bold red/purple font.

Word count: 6 stories ranging from ~450 words to ~1600. ~6700 in total.

Song

Characters: Lady Leticia and (young) Clavis

Word Count: ~450

Synopsis: Lady Leticia gives Clavis a precious gift.

...

“Come dear, I have something for you.” A woman with flowing lavender hair and golden eyes led a boy of eight up a manicured path amidst the blooming rose gardens. She stopped at a clump of bushes and creeping ivy trellises near the palace.

“But it’s not my birthday!” Little Clavis radiated excitement, his sparkling eyes darting at every rose bush as if a present would magically materialize.

“Do I need a reason to give the joy of my life something?” Lady Leticia smiled. She was always smiling of course, but this smile was special—like the entirety of her happiness was concentrated at her son. “Now sit down like a well-behaved gentleman.”

“But how will I open my gift if I do that!?” Despite his question, Clavis sat on the grass, practically vibrating as he hugged his tucked knees.

“It’s not that kind of present darling. Just listen to what I wrote.” Leticia stood a few feet away, her simple lavender and white dress billowing in the breeze. And then, she began to sing.

Didn't know that I'd fall so hard Then my feet left the ground Gravity don't make no sense when you're around

Clavis sat mesmerized. Sure, Chevalier might be the son of the queen and a once in a generation genius, but he didn’t a song written for him. He didn’t have a mom that loved him best. No one did. It was Clavis’s one advantage over his brothers.

Leticia sang with a grace that transcended the realm of the ordinary. Her words seeped into Clavis’s veins, filling him with joy.

I slip and wonder what I'd do If you never found me and I never found you I don't know what I'd do Well, I don't wanna see So won't you give me tonight And the rest of your life? I wanna have it all with you I wanna have it all with you

Clavis wanted it all. And with his mom, he had it.

“I just wanted you to know I love you.” Leticia stopped singing and stepped towards her son, bending down to put both hands on Clavis’s cheeks. “But if you ever forget, remember this song and I’ll come back to you.”

“I’d never forget that mama!” Clavis propelled himself off the ground, throwing his arms around her in a fierce hug. “You’re always here.”

“My good, kind-hearted boy.” Leticia tucked a few flyaway lavender hairs behind Clavis’s ears. “I’ll always love you. No matter where I am.”

“Can you sing it again? And again, and AGAIN?”

Leticia smiled, the picture of radiance. “OK, my dear. One more time.”

(Leticia would sing the song ten more times that day. Not nearly enough for Clavis.)

Promise

Characters: The fourth prince and (young) Leon

Word Count: ~850

Synopsis: Two boys talk about the future, with Leon making a promise that’ll reside in his heart for years to come.

Note: This story takes a premise mentioned in Leon’s Curse of Love Arc Bonus Ending and expands on it.

...

A boy peered with wide-eyed curiosity at the singing woman, his breath fogging up the windowpane he pressed up against. His companion chuckled good naturedly.

“If you lean any further, you’ll fall outside.” A sickly boy whose wild dark tresses and amber eyes mirrored the boy at the window smiled complacently.

“I-I’m not interested at all.” The boy murmured to himself, moving quickly from his perch to return sitting at the foot of the bed. The window was partially open, the air carrying the woman’s melodious singing into the room.

“That sounds like Lady Leticia. That’s your brother Clavis’s mother Leon.”

“You mean YOUR brother’s mom.”

“Clavis will be YOUR brother when I’m gone remember. That makes Lady Leticia your stepmother. She’s the nicest mom in the palace.”

“Your mom loves you though. Lots.” And it was true. Leon knew the fourth prince’s mom would do anything for her son. Including bringing a dirty look-a-like slave into the palace to replace him. But what she couldn’t do was look Leon in the eye. To acknowledge Leon would be for the fourth prince’s mother to acknowledge—

“Yes, but I’m leaving her soon.” The prince seemed to read Leon’s thoughts. “And while mother loves me, Lady Leticia is the only mom that is nice to everyone.” The sickly boy patted to an open spot beside him on the bed. Leon scooted so that he and the prince sat side by side, their legs under thick purple and red quilts. The boys craned their heads as Leticia’s voice floated in the room.

And when you open your eyes I'll be there by your side I wanna have it all with you I wanna have it all with you I wanna have it, I wanna have it all 'Cause your love is biblical It's biblical, it's biblical

“It must be nice.” Leon said under his breath.

“What?” The fourth prince turned his head towards his companion.

Leon’s cheeks turned light red, half in embarrassment, half in anger at himself. He needed to control his feelings better if he was going to really be a prince. But this was his friend—if anyone deserved what was honestly in his heart, it was him. The words were whispered, as if divulging his deepest secret. “To…to be loved like that.”

The fourth prince tilted his head curiously. “You speak as if you don’t know what love is.”

“You know what my life was like before I came here!” Leon’s voice shook in barely repressed anger and anguish. His fingers curled into tight fists, fingernails leaving deep marks on his palms. “It was absolute Hell! Day after day.”

“Before then. Before you were a slave.”

“Before?” Leon grazed a hand over his chest, his index finger rubbing over lacerations covered in ointment underneath his white tunic. The last lashes Leon received before coming to the palace had been especially punishing, tearing through skin so deep there had been concern he would not make it due to blood loss. But that was typical treatment for slaves. They were replaceable, after all.

“How could you recognize Clavis being loved if you hadn’t experienced it yourself?” The fourth prince inclined his head slightly, his bearing wise beyond his years. “You don’t remember everything that’s happened to you, when you were really young, right? There’s a good chance you were loved before. Even if you can’t recall it, your heart already knows what it is.”

Leon chewed his lip. It was a lot to take in.

“You don’t look like you believe me Leon.”

“I WANNA believe you.”

“That’s a start then.” The prince placed a pale hand over top of Leon’s. “You want to be a prince that’ll bring happiness to others. Be a good person. Love ties all that together. You know that instinctively. I don’t need to teach you that because someone else already did.”

Leon furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t understand.”

“If you’ve experienced love before, you can do it again. You’ll love the people as a prince. It can happen to you as well.”

“Me? A former slave with a borrowed name?” The words were detached yet filled with doubt.

The fourth prince pulled Leon into a hug, his arms tightening with surprising strength. “Yes, you. My friend.” There was a slight crack in the prince’s voice. “My only friend.”

Leon returned his embrace before pulling away, not wanting to overwhelm his sickly frame. The prince laughed quietly. “See, you chose to be kind even now.”

“Because you taught me—”

“I taught you politics; philosophy; names of important people. I did not teach you kindness.” The prince squeezed Leon’s hand. “When you find love again Leon, tell me what it’s like.”

But Leon thought that love would be for you through me. No one would ever actually love ME.

“You’ll find it Leon.” The prince’s voice was quiet but resolute. “Promise you’ll tell me when you find it.”

His friend would not ask him something that was impossible. However improbable it was. Leon squeezed his hand back. “I promise.”

Loved Best

Characters: Clavis Leouch, Carla (OC) and Richard Demandeur (OC). References to Cassandra (OC)

Word Count: ~1,600

Synopsis: Clavis prepares for an extraordinary performance. Carla and her dad reminisce about the past and discuss the future.

Note: The male choir mentioned in this story sing the song “Biblical” like Johns’ Boys

...

“Forgive me, I know my handsomeness makes everyone stare, haha!” A pair of golden eyes gleamed through the haze.

Carla coughed repeatedly, bending over her knees. “Ack, the smoke cannon didn’t work as expected Clavis!” She stood back up, frantically waving smoke away. Carla smoothed her billowing skirt, squinting at the fabric before exclaiming in exasperation. “Did you put sparkles in the cannon?!”

“A sparkle cannon.” A man with gray hair and a neatly trimmed goatee raised an eyebrow. “THAT is what my daughter was helping you with?”

“I DIDN’T know—ack, ACK!—sparkles had been added.” Carla hacked up a few shimmery pieces of paper.

“You speak as if that weren’t a noble task for my seeker, Richard!” Clavis clapped a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

The trio stood on an outdoor stage near an orphanage in the town of Leouch. Richard, one of the orphanage’s directors, had arranged for a performance to raise much needed funds. Clavis had promised to host an unforgettable event, with Carla assisting him.

As Clavis’s seeker, her official job was locating items Clavis was too distracted to find himself—gears for cannons; chemical compounds; rare spices for Clavis’s…creative culinary pursuits. However, Carla found other things as well: books for the orphanage; jobs for the unemployed; sanctuary for refugees fleeing into Rhodolite. Carla was a seeker. A seeker of connection; of people; of hope. Many of the orphanage’s children (and other citizens of Leouch) had escaped or been spirited away from Obsidian. Where formal Rhodilitian policies did not provide protection for these refugees, people like Carla and Richard filled in the gaps—with shadow assistance from Clavis.

“Impressive, is it not?” Clavis gestured to the cannon now that the smoke had (mostly) cleared.

Richard kneeled, sweeping away sparkles before placing his knee on the ground. His rust-colored eyes squinted as he inspected the canon and nearby diagrams of the contraption. “If you made it 20% smaller and didn’t choke it up with your nonsensical glitter paper, it would be quite effective.”

“But the sparkles make it—”

“If you say the sparkles make it sparkle, I will shake you.” Richard’s words were sharp, but Clavis beamed unrepentantly. Richard knew when young people pretended to not care. Prince Clavis presented an irreverent façade, but Richard knew he craved positive affirmation more than most others. However, sometimes a firmer tone was required.

“I AM a prince, remember.”

“You only pull rank when you know I’m right,”Richard retorted. He returned his gaze to the diagrams, examining them with a thoughtful hum. “If you shrunk this cannon so it could be hand-held, Carla and I could take it on our next mission to Obsidian.” Richard got up from the ground, writing notes next to the diagrams with suggested modifications. The orphanage always had something that needed repair—fixing things was second nature to him. “We could use the cannon to fill a room with smoke or obscure a path.”

Carla nodded excitedly. “The smoke bombs you gave us last time were GREAT, but once we throw them, we can’t use them again. Imagine a mini cannon we can use repeatedly!”

“Your beloved prince will see what can be done.” Clavis smiled. A handheld canon would inspire much mischief.

“NO sparkles though.” Richard narrowed his eyes. “It would clog the smaller chamber too much.”

“How boring.” Clavis pouted.

“I know someone who WOULD appreciate a sparkle cannon though.” Carla’s eyes…well, sparkled, with humor.

“Hmmm,” Richard murmured.

Carla “whispered” conspiratorially to her father, ensuring Clavis could hear her. “The…enchantress.”

Clavis’s eyes gave off a mysterious shine, his face turning pink.

“Am I EVER going to see Cassandra?” Carla jabbed Clavis lightly on the shoulder. “She’s met Cyran and your seneschal. I’m starting to think this lack of introduction to me and papa is deliberate.”

“I’m starting to think this Cassandra’s mythical,” Richard muttered to himself. "Transcending reality."

“I would be delighted for you two to meet her! When the time is…appropriate,” Clavis intoned, plastering a smile back in place. Richard and Carla were forthright, honest individuals. They would get along famously with Cassandra. And they would quickly ask how she felt about him—really felt about him. And—

He was not prepared to hear the answer. Someone like her did not deserve a fool like him.

“And when have you cared about appropriateness?” Carla chided mildly. She chose to not press further when Clavis remained silent, his smile shaking slightly. Carla and her father exchanged a look. “We’ll be here when you’re ready to introduce us.”

“In the meantime, maybe the choir could start practicing,” Richard suggested as he left the stage, urging Carla and Clavis to follow. “NO SPARKLE CANNON though.” Clavis pouted again as Carla wheeled the cannon away.

A group of thirty—some male Leouchian citizens, the rest boys and staff from the orphanage—gathered on stage in lavender, gold, and white choir robes. “What song did you pick Clavis?” Carla tilted her head as the trio sat towards the back of the outdoor theater.

“Just wait and see!” Clavis answered dramatically. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

The other orphanage’s co-director walked to the stage with a conductor’s baton. As the choir began to practice, Richard turned a golden ring on his left hand. He sighed wistfully. “Your mother would have loved this song.”

“I’m sure papa.” Carla quietly held her father’s hand.

And when you open your eyes I'll be there by your side I wanna have it all with you I wanna have it all with you 'Cause your love is biblical Biblical, it's biblical

“There’s no rule that says we can’t talk about the deceased.” Clavis spoke with unusual mildness. “She sounds like a remarkable person.”

“She taught me how to love. I have continued the lesson with Carla. And the children I look after, of course.”

“And you have always taught this lesson alone?” Clavis asked sympathetically.

“When you have experienced love like that, nothing else compares.” Clavis flinched, feeling like he had intruded on something he should not have. “There was life before my wife died and life afterwards.” There was an air of finality in the older man’s statement, as though if he did not end the conversation now, he would break in front of them.

So won't you give me tonight And the rest of your life? I wanna have it all with you I wanna have it all with you

Out of nowhere, Richard spoke again. “Your mother loved you best.”

A flicker of shock ran through Clavis. He envisioned the rose garden where his mother first sang to him. I haven’t forgotten mama Clavis thought. If I weren’t a mediocre fool, I could have saved you. And you could have still loved me.

Even if you loved me second best.

Clavis’s thoughts were interrupted by Carla. “That’s not true papa, mom—”

“I don’t say that to make you feel guilty. Your mother’s dearest wish was to see you born. She got that. I just wish...”

I wanna have it all with you I wanna have it all with you

“I wish she had had more time with you.”

“And you, papa.” Carla leaned her head against her father’s shoulder. After a few moments of silence, Carla murmured. “I wonder if I’ll ever have what you and mom had.”

“You will. One day, your heart will beat for another. Someone worthy—someone will be the hero for you that you are to others and to me.”

“So, don’t settle for less than perfection?” The corners of Carla’s mouth lifted in a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. Papa always wanted the best. He couldn’t be anything less than protective and sentimental.

“I didn’t say that firefly.” Carla’s smile became warmer hearing her papa’s nickname for her. “Heroes are human. And vulnerable. When you allow yourself to be vulnerable, and he with you, that’s love. You’re bad at that.”

“I’m as bad as you are!”

“See, you deflect again. You’re nearly as bad as the purple disaster!” Richard huffed, pointing to Clavis.

Clavis blinked and smirked to cover his scrambled thoughts. “If I’m the worst, it means there’s no one worse than me. I rather like the sound of that.”

Carla rolled her eyes. “That’s NOT a compliment.”

“Oh, papa didn’t complement his darling girl? How rare.” Clavis waggled his eyebrows.

“You’re impossible!” Carla slapped the palm of her hand against her thigh, eyes flaring in irritation.

“Impossibly handsome and clever, yes.”

“CHILDREN.” Richard evoked the stern voice used at the orphanage when the kids were unruly. Clavis was one of the few individuals that could goad Carla into her more petulant, combative moods. “I meant don’t compromise on love. You’re too good for that, firefly. You too, despite your best efforts to hide it.” Richard gestured to Clavis with a jut of his chin.

“Has old age made you senile?”

“My daughter may be stubborn, but she will not run when she finds her match. YOU, however,” Richard looked the third prince in the eye. “It will take years of patience and care to remove the walls you’ve built up, brick by brick. But eventually, someone will remove enough bricks to allow an opening into your heart. And they will love you as you deserve. And that love will be so strong there will be no room for even YOU to doubt her.”

A pair of enthralling emerald eyes materialized in Clavis’s mind. A small hole pierced in Clavis’s heart at the vision, allowing a modicum of warmth to seep through. Just as quickly, the hole was patched up.

Not yet. I must be sure Cassandra will stay.

Story

Characters: Leon Dompteur and Carla (OC)

Word Count: ~1550

Synopsis: Leon and Carla unveil their deepest secrets/pain.

...

“I miss him. So much.” Carla sobbed, her head buried in the folds of Leon’s black shirt.

Loneliness. It was something Leon knew well. He had traded the dismal dreariness of a slave’s tunic with the refined radiance of a prince’s robe. But the loneliness remained the same. He hated that Carla was feeling that now.

Leon pulled Carla closer to him. The pair sat near a half-finished Clavis pit in the palace rose gardens, feet dangling off the muddy edge. The sun was setting below the Castle’s pristine white walls, the sky’s pink and golden hues slowly transforming into inky blues and violets.

Leon felt useless, utterly useless. There was nothing for him to do. Carla’s father was gone. Grief for a beloved parent did not come with an instruction manual. But he could hold her—offer warmth, a semblance of security, when Carla had none.

Carla turned her head from Leon, wet cerulean eyes looking down into the pit. “If I fell into darkness, would you catch me?” Carla flinched at her own words and their warbled inflection. What was she saying? Why was she saying it? Why couldn’t she get her father’s final moments out of her head even after all this time?

An arm encircled tighter along her waist. Calloused fingers traced slow, soothing circles below Carla’s ribs. “If you allowed it.” A huff of breath rumbled against Carla’s copper and ruby locks.

“No, that’s a lie. I’d do it regardless, even if you hated me for it,” Leon murmured. He tugged himself and Carla away from the pit, placing Carla’s curled form in his lap, arms enfolding her. Without conscious thought, Leon spoke the words from Lady Leticia’s song he heard all those years ago.

If you evеr go to pieces Fall between thе thunder clouds I will put you back together, I won't let you down

“I won’t fall to pieces Leon.” Carla hated how pathetic she was acting, nestling her face against the crook of his neck, hands clinching the fabric of his shirt. Leon's words recalled bittersweet memories of her and her dad with that song. She didn’t want to show the trail of tears dripping down her cheeks (she was sure he could feel them dribbling down his skin, but Leon chose not to comment on it). “And I could never hate you. You’re too kind a person for that.”

“You make me sound nicer than I am.” A low-throated rumble transformed to a rueful laugh. Dark hair tumbled over Leon’s face, tickling her forehead.

“No, I’m not. Take the compliment for once,” Carla sniffed. She found herself wanting to touch Leon’s dark locks—soft, gentle, free. She wanted to bind herself to something beyond the swirl of grief enveloping her.

“Maybe it would help if you talked about your dad.”

This is just like Leon. Always listening to people’s burdens. What about him? Carla blinked a few tears away, her head moving slightly from Leon, eyes averted from his gaze. And then she saw them—for the first time, really saw them.

Scars.

They were faint, but still visible with the setting sun. Two angry lines ran across the top part of Leon’s chest that peeked out from his partially unbuttoned shirt, their fury lashing out. Smaller scars were interspersed with callouses on his hands. Carla was all but positive there were others hidden beneath layers of cloth and the casual but glittering confidence Leon projected.

“Kindness should go both ways.” Carla’s voice shook. She raised her head and straightened her back, turning slightly in Leon’s lap so she faced him.

“You are kind, Carla.” The pad of Leon’s thumbs wiped away falling tears.

Leon will always redirect attention from himself. Unless…“I’ll make you a deal.” The corner of Leon’s mouth lifted at her attempt to bargain with him. “I’ll share stories of papa…”

When you allow yourself to be vulnerable…

“…if you share how you got these.” Carla’s fingers grazed a path of a scar on Leon’s chest.

When you allow yourself to be vulnerable, and he with you, that’s love. Even now, her father’s words guided her.

Leon caught his breath, his smirk evaporating. Arms that always seemed so strong trembled slightly. He couldn’t bring himself to lie, not to her. He didn’t regret his decision to live as the fourth prince, but he despised the taint of deceit that always followed him with that choice. And the distance he was forced to keep from his heart to enforce that choice. For once, he didn’t know what to say. Leon buried his head against Carla’s shoulder to avoid her look.

He silences himself when he’s meant to roar. For several moments, the only thing heard was the intake of breath. “Thank you for not lying to me,” Carla whispered, her hand cradling the back of his head.

“I didn’t say anything though.” Leon’s arms tightened around her, as if afraid she’d disappear from admitting even this.

“You could have claimed they came from battle. But you didn’t. And that’s not where they came from, is it?” It was less a question and more a statement.

Leon raised his head, his expression giving away nothing. “What makes you so sure?”

“They’re too old looking for them to have happened to you as a soldier.” Carla’s voice was calm at first, but rose in volume, anger creeping in. Anger at whoever inflicted these wounds on him. “And most soldiers don’t carry whips as weapons.”

“Why do you think they’re whip marks?” Leon did not contradict her previous remarks. Carla’s heart lurched at that.

“Papa and I helped people who’ve been in Obsidian slave camps. I know what whip marks look like.” Carla continued, her eyes watering again as she envisioned Leon bracing himself against the lash of rawhide. “And if those scars didn’t happen when you were a soldier…” Carla gasped at her train of thought. “They happened when you were a child.”

A deep, bone-weary sigh escaped Leon. “You’re too perceptive for your own good.” He sounded apologetic, as if Carla had stumbled upon a burden she now had to carry.

“If you don’t want me remarking on your scars, consider buttoning up your shirt more.” Carla sniffled. Leon’s arms loosened as he tried to move away. Carla quickly pulled Leon back towards her, fingers gripping his upper back. “Don’t you dare let go. Please.”

The please got to him. It was as much a demand as it was a plea—for them both. Leon’s eyes widened and then closed in stark relief, his arms coiling around Carla’s back. “Most folks don’t get close enough to notice.”

“Because you don’t let them.”

“Consider it a Carla-exclusive perk.”

Carla’s heart fluttered at his words. “Whatever your truth is, I won’t think less of you for it.”

Leon tilted his head upwards, staring at the sky—a movement so habitual, it was practically automatic. He then looked back down at Carla, his amber eyes burning intensely. “It’s…quite a long story.”

“Good thing there’s no reading involved then.”

Ahhh, you really are too much Carla. “Hey, your deal was a story for a story. I won’t hide from this if you don’t.”

A moment’s hesitation flickered in Carla’s expression. Leon caught her gaze and held it. If Leon can be brave, so can I. With a fortifying breath, Carla released her grip from Leon’s shoulders and began.

“Once upon a time, there was a girl who held the world in her hand. That world w-was—” Carla stuttered to a stop, her throat catching. “That world was her papa. The pair lived alone, but with papa, the girl was never lonely.”

Carla’s mouth trembled. Not trusting her voice, Carla shook her head. Leon placed a finger on her lips. “We can take turns if you like.” His eyes softened when she nodded.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy with no name. Maybe he had one, but it’s been lost to history.” Carla’s body stilled entirely in his arms. “The boy’s first memory was holding bark in his hand. He was hungry, and there was nothing else to eat.”

As the night wore on, Carla was in awe. She held in her arms a man who had been hurt so much but refused to be hardened. She saw a man who reflected light because he did not want others to feel encroaching darkness like he had. She grasped Leon’s hand, as if she could reach out to the little boy who held nothing but the peeled remains of dying trees.

Leon’s hand grasped back, fingers curling against hers. And then, an image flashed in his mind—several berries being placed in his hand alongside the bark.

I’m sorry dear. It’s all I have.

Leon desperately tried to place the disembodied voice with the fragment of memory but couldn’t. But he knew one thing. The voice ached for him. And he had been loved before.

Leon’s fingers moved towards the berries, but instead found something more. His fingers were entwined with Carla’s, her hold tender, but refusing to let go.

“When you find love again Leon, tell me what it’s like.” The fourth prince’s words rang in Leon’s mind. And finally, after all these years, he had an answer.

Love left him breathless. It left his heart searing with warmth, seeking light that had long evaded him.

It left him free.

Enchanted

Characters: Clavis Leouch and Cassandra (OC)

Word Count: ~1450

Synopsis: Clavis surprises Cassandra with an unforgettable night.

...

A gentleman must always entertain his audience. But allow me to surprise you.

“Close your eyes, enchantress.” Clavis’s endearment fell from his lips, a melody that caressed Cassandra’s ears. She wished she could hear her name spoken again in such tender tones—a refrain that, if granted, would make her heart soar.

“Isn’t that a tad excessive?” Cassandra retorted playfully. She could easily picture a breathtaking smile brimming with wonder. Each time they were together, she felt an unspoken harmony between them, one that resonated deep within her. “Afterall, I’m already wearing a blindfold.”

“Two blindfolds dearie.” Clavis bopped Cassandra’s nose twice, his index finger lingering on the tip of her nose with the second bop. Cassandra instinctively leaned forward, missing Clavis’s touch when his hand sauntered away. He had a way of lingering in her thoughts, his teasing mischief inspiring her to enjoy the moment.

Speaking of inspiration…Cassandra heard something moving, her heart thrumming with anticipation. She sat on a bench, in a location within the palace rose gardens she rarely explored. Yves and Licht had warned her this area of the gardens was where Clavis experimented the most with his pit traps (and the 5th and 6th princes had the dirt-stained clothes to prove it). Not that they needed to caution her on this—besides Chevalier, Cassandra was the only person at the palace who hadn’t fallen into one of Clavis’s traps.

“Move it a little more to the left.”

Even with multiple layers of cloth, Clavis could envision Cassandra’s delicate eyebrows lifting wryly as she spoke. And her eyes—shiny emeralds that captivated with grace and tart humor, were ones Clavis could easily get lost in if he allowed it. “Do I need to add a third blindfold?”

The force of Cassandra’s tinkling laughter moved the blindfolds just enough for her to see the faint flush of pink on Clavis’s cheeks. She quickly readjusted the cloth to cover her eyes as to not ruin the surprise Clavis had put his heart into producing—whatever it was.

“No, you need to move whatever it is you have to the left.” Cassandra’s feet shuffled in anticipation. When she didn’t hear Clavis move, Cassandra decided to spur him to action. “You know, I bet Carla would agree with me. Maybe that’s why you won’t let me meet her.” Cassandra had heard many stories from Cyran about Carla—Carla procured most of the items for Clavis’s traps and experiments, a job Cyran was very grateful to not be saddled with. Between collecting things for Clavis and working with former Obsidian refugees, Carla seemed like a fascinating individual.

Not as fascinating as Clavis, Cassandra thought. No one is.

A quick, sharp burst of jealousy tore through Clavis at the mention of his seeker’s name. He did NOT want his enchantress to be thinking of anyone else besides him in this moment. “You will meet Carla when it is…appropriate.”

“Do you know what appropriate means Clavis?” Cassandra murmured.

Oh Hell, Cassandra and Carla would get along all too well. Clavis had thought this more than once in his life. Both ladies had remarked on Clavis’s questionable perceptions of appropriateness. But while he and Carla bickered with the familiar but fierce affection akin to siblings, he and Cassandra danced an elusive tango of delicate flirtation.

Cassandra gave him everything—her laughter, her patience, her impatience. She was the first person in two decades who made him feel like he was enough. After years of banter, they had built a rapport with one another—one where Cassandra felt free to drop her walls and the lofty expectations placed upon her by her family. Over time, Clavis had seen a glimmer of defiance from her noble upbringing, and it had become a powerful beacon that shown within.

Moreover, she stayed with him. And she seemed all the more delighted for it.

“This performance is for your eyes only. But, as a gentleman, I will move your surprise as requested. Which left should I move it towards?”

“There’s only one left!”

“My left or yours?”

“Why don’t you pick then?”

“I thought there was only one left I could choose dearie.”

Cassandra was delicate like fire, her words playful, hinting at the ability to scorch if truly provoked. Yet her essence was all warmth. “Why don’t you pick the left that is…appropriate then?”

With a chuckle, Clavis wheeled his new and improved cannon from behind a pink rose bush. The cannon was designed smaller per the recommendations of Carla’s father. Clavis winced subtly at the memory of Richard. He was gone far too soon. The one specification Clavis did NOT adhere to—he kept the sparkles. Cassandra deserved the best after all.

“Clavis, are…are you sure I deserve this?”

Clavis turned his head upon hearing Cassandra’s hesitant tone. Her question was not a feeble ploy of feigned doubt disguised as flirtation like many noble women were taught. Clavis knew Cassandra would occasionally throw a spark of doubt at herself, a spark that could rage into an inferno quickly. Who better to diagnose crippling doubt than a mediocre fool like myself?

“Absolutely. No one is more worthy.” Clavis spoke seriously, prepping the cannon to be ignited.

Cassandra bit her lip, her thoughts scattering at Clavis’s sincerity. In moments like this, when the carefree mask of Clavis was gone, and their light banter pushed aside, it was impossible to ignore how she needed him. Before Clavis, Cassandra lived within the shadow of her family and what they permitted for her. Without Clavis, Cassandra forgot how to live, how to find joy in the unexpected and the unimagined. But now…

Cassandra lowered her face. Even while wearing blindfolds, she could feel the intensity of Clavis’s gaze. She then spoke with quiet reverence.

I slip and wonder what I'd do If you never found me and I never found you I don't know what I'd do

“How…how do you know those words?” Clavis blinked in astonishment. His hand slipped from behind the cannon, unaware that he had now lit a rather shortened fuse. “Surely you haven’t heard that song—"

“Song, what song?” Now it was Cassandra’s turn to be confused. “I…merely spoke what’s in my heart when I think of you.”

My God, Clavis thought. She’s an enchantress. She’s an ACTUAL enchantress. I really MUST—

BOOM!

There was a cacophony of sound—a cannon explosion, feet shuffling and stumbling, Cassandra coughing as smoke billowed all around, and Clavis yelling in shock before—

THUD!

Cassandra yanked the blindfolds off, coughing as lavender smoke sprinkled with golden sparkles swirled in the air. She suspected the smoke wasn’t supposed to be this pervasive. Her eyes widened once she saw an outline of a cannon through the haze, and widened even more when she didn’t see Clavis.

“Ugggh…”

Cassandra walked past the cannon, squinting through the smoke to see a half-finished pit trap. At the bottom was a disheveled, slightly dazed Clavis. Clavis raised his head, waving his hands to clear his vision, and at the sight of Cassandra, wholly wished he could bury himself alive. He sighed inwardly, trying to not unravel each flaw before her.

“Are you OK?!”

Clavis could only nod. To do anymore would break the control he tried desperately to hold onto.

And then, the most remarkable thing happened. “You DID promise me a surprise. You certainly delivered that.”

There was no mockery in her statement. With one fell swoop, Cassandra managed to both unsettle and sooth him.

“I’m touched. No, really Clavis. No one has ever done something this extraordinary for me before.”

Extraordinary? You really think so? Clavis couldn’t believe it.

“CASSANDRA?!” Yves’s voice pierced through the air. “I heard an explosion!”

The lavender haze still obscured Cassandra from Yves’s line of sight. Without thinking, Cassandra jumped into the pit, fumbling a bit until she was laying down next to Clavis.

“Well, you finally fell into one of my traps dearie.”

“I don’t think it counts if I willingly jumped in.” Cassandra leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Oh, I suppose so. I’ll just have to double my efforts then.” Clavis bopped Cassandra on the nose, his playful demeanor almost completely back.

“Can we stay here a little longer? Before Yves finds us?” Cassandra dared to ask. She did not want the night’s adventure to end. “We could watch the stars.” Clavis did not point out the impracticality of this with the smoke.

“Oh look. Hehe!” Cassandra’s laugh was unguarded and full of joy as the wind carried numerous golden sparkles that floated into her outstretched hands. At the sight of her laughter, Clavis remembered his mother’s singing.

I come up against myself when Demons in my head get loud I don't know how you do it, but you turn them down

“It’s like the stars have come to us!” Cassandra took the sparkles and placed them in the third prince’s hand. “Thank you Clavis.”

Clavis smiled softly. No, thank you, enchantress. For thinking I’m worthy. For caring for me. For loving—

Maybe you do love me best.

Transcendence

Characters: Clavis Leouch; Leon Dompteur; Carla (OC); Cassandra (OC)

Word Count: ~800

Synopsis: Sparkles. Lots of Sparkles. And six stories connecting together.

...

“Blindfolds, again Clavis?” Cassandra murmured in amusement. “This is starting to feel like de ja vu.”

“Clavis blindfolds you on a regular basis?” Carla tittered, her copper locks swaying lightly. She and her dear friend Cassandra sat in a rose covered gazebo within the palace gardens, their eyes concealed with golden blindfolds. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s on a regular basis…”

“Tut, tut, tut!” Two fingers encased in a white glove lightly touched Cassandra’s mouth, tracing her lower lip. Clavis tilted Cassandra’s chin so he could better view her rosy face. “Don’t give away our secrets my lovely lover!”

“I AM surprised at how you’ve corrupted Leon!” Carla turned her head towards the direction of Clavis’s voice.

“My little brother is quite the mischief maker beneath his golden image.” Clavis preened with pride. “He didn’t need much convincing.”

“I did say your night was gonna change forever.” Leon grinned shamelessly.

“When you told me to take your hand, I didn’t think I would be blinded later.” Despite her grumbling, Carla was thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Blindfolds can add a little spice to things,” Cassandra chimed in.

Carla chuckled. “I bet Leon has a giant smirk on his face.”

“Hey Clavis, you got another blindfold? I think my lioness can see us.”

“Ha! I think Carla can see through YOU.” Clavis smacked Leon on the back. “And no, no more blindfolds. But I DO have rope if a certain seeker is being naughty.”

“I am NEVER procuring you rope again Clavis!” Carla stomped her foot on the ground. “I know Sariel, Yves, and Licht would be thrilled!”

“Ropes ALSO can add a little spice to things…”

“Don’t talk about spices Cass. I just had to buy the oddest seasonings for your prince—do you know how difficult it is to find purple—Hey!” Carla giggled as she was lifted from her chair. Her hands looped around Leon’s neck as he sat down.

“There aren’t enough chairs. Guess we gotta share.” Leon’s voice nipped at Carla’s ear, his nose nuzzling against her cascading locks as he placed her in his lap. “Don’t let go. Keep your eyes on me.”

“That’s kinda hard to do with—!" Carla gasped as the blindfold was pulled down towards her neck by Leon’s teeth.

“I’m pretty sure there are plenty of spare chairs in the Castle.” Cassandra replied, smirking.

“Shhh!” Leon and Carla placed a finger on their lips. They turned, and upon seeing their expressions mirroring one another, burst out laughing.

“And Clavis, would a gentleman keep his lady—”

“You’re absolutely right, enchantress.” Clavis removed Cassandra’s blindfold with a theatrical flourish before placing his hand back in her lap. “Just wait everyone. My brother and I have a grand surprise.”

A group of ten men appeared in front of the gazebo facing the two couples. Carla’s eyes widened as she recognized the lavender, gold, and white choir robes the group wore. Suddenly, twin explosions erupted nearby, lavender and red smoke rising in the air.

“The cannon!” Cassandra exclaimed in delight. “Two of them!”

“You got it to work! And with the sparkles!” Carla beamed, glittering paper cascading all around.

Clavis grinned at their reactions, his excitement infectious. “With a few modifications, nothing is impossible. Plus, Leon helped.”

“Actually, one of my soldiers has a brother who’s a weapon-smith helped out.” Leon combed his fingers through Carla’s hair to remove sparkles.

“Sparkles as weapons. And entertainment.” Cassandra laughed, her eyes dancing.

“Oh, there’s more to enjoy.” Clavis gestured as the choir began singing.

Didn't know that I'd fall so hard Then my feet left the ground Gravity don't make no sense when you're around

Each person watching the performance was caught in their own thoughts and memories.

Carla’s eyes shimmered with affection, her hand grasping Leon’s. Once upon a time, there was a girl who held the world in her hand. She did not need words to tell the story that was in her heart.

Leon held Carla close, basking in her warmth.

“Love can happen to you as well.”

“Me? A former slave with a borrowed name?”

“Yes, you. My friend.”

She would always be there for him, regardless of who he was.

Cassandra caressed Clavis’s cheek. “You really are the best, love. Never forget that.” I merely spoke what’s in my heart when I think of you.

Clavis brought Cassandra’s hand towards his lips, kissing her palm.

I love you. But if you ever forget, remember this song. He would never forget. Cassandra was here to stay, her love healing the fractured parts of his heart.

So won't you give me tonight And the rest of your life? I wanna have it all with you I wanna have it all with you

And the two pairs knew that they always would.

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