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gyuswhore · 11 months ago

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Remembrance of Ice

"Fear does anything but land with precision."

PAIRING: ice king!xu minghao x fem spy!reader

SYNOPSIS: Xu Minghao rules over a land where the sun never rises and crops never grow, shunned by the world for their nature so ruthless it has them caged within their borders.

That is, until you land straight into the dragon's den to find the story untold.

CONTAINS: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, kinda lore heavy, reader and minghao are in a perpetual spat, talks of military and political power, manipulation (not by minghao), ft. chan

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

masterlist

[AN]: MIKA DAY MIKA DAY MIKA DAY except im a day late bc I don't know how to time manage ANYWAY mika my love I hope you enjoy this you mentioned villain hao that one time and I stuck to it praying this is good ksjgnvrkjgn @toruro

id love to turn this into a longer, more detailed fic in the future, I really like this concept and theres loads more I could do with it. lmk if you'd like to see it hehe

edit: had to repost a couple times cuz it wasn't showing in the tags. it still isn't but idc anymore if this only reaches mika then so be it sgnkrtjg

The cold was the worst.

Your iced pride had been swallowed down to accept the flimsy cloth the guards that pushed you into this stone dungeon had given you. Not that it was doing much to help you, the thin fabric acting as more of a permeable layer than your gear.

Huddling into yourself, you breathe out warm exhales in the hopes that it’d do something about the face you couldn’t feel anymore. With the sight of your discolouring fingernails, you hope the people in this wretched place would decide what they wanted to do with you before you succumbed to the cold. There’s a bad taste in your mouth at the thought of dying a death like this – that the cold would become your ultimate demise.

The croning of the metal doors of your prison wrench open in what feels like a deafening sound, the screech having you throw the flimsy blanket off your body in haste. You would not be seen taking advantage of their supposed kindness.

The two guards that trudge in are quick to tell you to stand. You nearly laugh at the prospect of doing anything they ask.

“What do you want?” your voice has eroded to a brassy sound.

“Stand up,” the guard repeats, his face covered in the black balaclava that wraps around everything but spares his eyes. Cold, dark, soulless.

Your pride screamed to refute. But you were at a dead end, and perhaps it was time to accept it. Eyeing the weapons strapped to both their waists, moreso the lack thereof of your own, you make the first attempt to pull yourself up. It’s difficult, you find, needing a moment to regain your senses before pushing up completely. You tried not to show it, not wanting to look weak in front of the very people you need to show strength.

“Hands,” the other guard gruffs out.

You hesitate before bringing your shivering wrists forward, cursing yourself for not being able to control your own body. The cuffs they bind to your wrists are somehow even colder, and you have to consciously bite back a cursed wince.

Your resolve begins to truly thin when you struggle to simply take a few steps forward, the muscles in your legs frozen like everything else in the room. You manage to not fall. A commendable feat when your goals went from overtaking a couple of (very armed) guards to simply not falling over like a newborn fawn.

You feel them lightly shove you out the gates, something you should not have struggled to recover from from, but alas, you can only grit your already ground teeth as you try to not tip over entirely. The halls of the dungeons are made of the same gray concrete as your cell, the tight corridor leading you out into an only slightly larger hall with a single door at the seemingly dead end.

The large brass handle with the distinct reptile circling its expanse stares at you. You are forced to consider the idea that these may be your final breaths.

One of the guards squeezes out into the hall and approaches the door, three sharp knocks to the wood before you hear a muffled “come in.”

Your feet remain planted to the floor as you feel another push of the guard that remains behind you, urging you forward as the other one stands at the door, expecting you to walk inside. Perhaps some would classify this as a moment of weakness, especially when all you’ve been taught is to face death with anything but fear. But it seeps into your bones regardless.

You wonder if all those stories you were told of fearless soldiers and sheilds of humans were as lionhearted in their final moments as the storytellers claimed, as brave as the legends that followed.

You considered yourself one of the best in your field, most of your peers agreed. And yet, that moment of hesitancy in the face of potential death caged you in an unimaginable retaliance. What on Earth was wrong with you?

And so you moved forward, one foot in front of the other with resilience fueled by pure outrage at your own feeble mind. You would do as you were taught, you would march into the mouth of the dragon because you were not allowed to fear death. You refused to meet your end as a coward.

The cuffs that encase your wrists burn at the skin as you walk into the room. It’s small, small enough to force you and the two guards to shift closer to keep from the man that stands across the room.

You almost don’t notice him, which alarms you immensely. Regardless of the stark black attire that matches the dark, gloomy atmosphere of the tiny room, the man seems to blend into the shadows, becoming part of the walls. His back faces you as he looks out the window, like he’s invigorated with the snow that drifts to the earth.

It’s nighttime. It’s always night time here.

“The prisoner, sire,” the one in your left gruffs out.

The man at the window turns to face you, the sight of his face causing you to bite back a gasp.

His skin is the same colour as the snowflakes that fall behind him, near glistening white. It seems to make every other feature of his face stand out in earnest; the black of his eyes, the crimson of his lips, the dark of his hair.

He’s gorgeous, you decide, but you also decide that you may be about to die at his hands.

There’s also the matter of how he was addressed by the goons that flank you. Unless sire means something else in this godforsaken land, you should have realized who this is by now.

Xu Minghao’s expression remains unchanged, the mild disinterest evident as he barely glances at you before taking a seat at the makeshift office area in the middle of the room. He leans back against the plush, finally regarding the other people in the room with words.

“You can leave.”

You hear the guards begin to file out the room.

“Ah—take off the restraints before you go. And shut the door.”

You want to describe what his voice sounds like, and while indifferent to another, it’s like a million icicles plunging into your eardrums. It isn’t until the guard blocks your view to unlock you that you realize how strained your eyes were, like it was draining to simply look at him.

When both guards have left the vicinity, doors closed with a deep thud, you set yourself in steel. Just because he was about to kill you didn't mean you were about to make it easy for him.

You wonder why a king was meddling to discard a mere enemy officer, but if you knew anything of their bloodthirst, this was a form of amusement.

“Well?” you say, your voice still bare-there.

“Take a seat.” He means the lone chair that stands on your side of the table.

“No,”

His eyebrows shoot up, “No?”

You stare at him, and it's the first time he’s looked at you for more than three seconds.

“No,” you reiterate. “If you’d like to eliminate me, I’d suggest we cut to the chase. I don’t want your bleak hospitality.”

“Are you offering your head?”

“I’m asking you to quit the niceties. We know what you are.”

He studies you for a moment before continuing quietly, “Who is we?”

Your jaw is set as you calm yourself down, “The people who keep coming into your barren lands, only to never return. My people.”

“Your people that keep invading this barren land, only to find out that actions have consequences?”

“The mere thought of us is a consequence for you vermin,” you spit.

“Your people, you had said?” There’s a strange hint of jest in his voice, and it only infuriates you even more.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Your people who have not once attempted to negotiate your release from us vermin, I thought your people were known for your camaraderie. Especially for such an important soldier, do they truly consider you that disposable? ”

The low fester of embers had now ignited into a full flame, the rage becoming near indescribable. Aside from how heinous, you had underestimated how infuriating his kind could be.

“You know nothing of me!” your voice is loud, your own shade of venom that laces your tongue.

And then he says your name.

You falter.

He shouldn’t know that. You don’t have a nametag, nothing to identify you on any record, anywhere. And yet, you know what you’ve heard is your name that fell from his lips, undeniably so.

He continues with the faintest sneer, “Captain of the SUN team, first in line from your peers for a promotion, and of course, right hand of your idiotic General of the Army.”

You can't be sure if you’re shivering from the cold or the rage that courses through every vein in your body. Perhaps it was the latter as you feel your mind shortcircuit at the sight of his smug face.

And, of course, with the way you lunge.

It takes barely a second for your numb fingers to reach his pristine throat, curling with the need to rupture his airways beyond measure. It also takes him barely a second to step out of the way, causing you to thud into the table, fingers faltering as they grasp onto nothing.

The air is knocked out of your chest, and you don’t realize what’s happened. He’s quick, and you’re out of shape. He’s on the other side of the table, hands in his pockets as he stares at your weak attempts at regaining your bearings.

“This is the problem with your people. Why must your first response to any confrontation be to fight to the death?”

Leaping over the table, you attempt to corner him against the wall, only to find him leap over to the other side of the table when you advance, switching your initial spots. It might have even been laughable if you weren’t so heated, like children running around in circles in a lethal game of tag.

He takes advantage of yet another moment of weakness you’ve shown, pushing the separating table directly into you, forcing you back as you stumble to hit the window. The opening is just enough to fit your waist, with no room for your legs to leap back over, locked in at the sides of the table that effectively cages your body between wood and glass.

Your first instinct is to push the wretched thing back, but you realize very quickly that you can’t. It shouldn’t explain how he was able to cage you in a place like this, especially with his scrawny build. Unless he’s locked it in place somehow, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“What the fuck?” you gasp out to mostly yourself.

“You’ve weakened, little soldier. I heard you were better than this.”

“Let me go so I can prove it to you then,” you spit, still fruitlessly struggling against your prison.

“Had your chance,” he states, hands in his pockets, an eyebrow cocked. “Of course, fear does anything but land with precision. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“What makes you think I’m scared of you?”

“Oh, you are such a simpleton,” he narrows his eyes.

“You haven’t been talking about anything of substance for someone who doesn’t claim to be scared. What’s holding you?” you gruff.

He stares for a moment like he’s studying you. For some reason, your struggling falters, his piercing gaze leaving you wondering what he had up his sleeve.

“You know you are weak. Your strength isn’t nearly where it had been when you arrived. I’ve also been told you’ve been starving yourself.”

“I said I don’t want your hospitality!”

“You were supposedly indifferent to everyone in the room, including the guards, but you kept your eyes on me like a hawk. The first mention out your mouth was of death.”

“Was I supposed to expect compassion?” you mock, but the desperation lingers in your voice.

“Can’t be helping knowing nobody is looking for you,” he finishes.

“Because you would’ve sent me on my way home if they were? Don’t make me laugh.”

“Quite right, yes.”

“Like you did with the other soldiers that seemingly disappear in your lands?”

“Nobody asked, so we did not deliver.”

“Lies!” It comes out as a near scream.

You think of all the stretched months that turned into inevitable years trying to retrieve your lost manpower. Of course, your higher-ups asked for hostage negotiations, did everything in their power to bring them home.

Fitting for the man in front of you to deny it, but infuriating nonetheless.

“And you’re wildly defensive,” he sighs. “You’re scared. Of being in enemy territory, of dying, of being alone. One or the other, that’s for you to decide.”

You want to scream again.

“They lied to you, soldier. And I may be a villain in your self-written history books, but you will come to know of the harsh truth, from me or anybody else. You should know what exactly it is that you’re fighting for.”

“What are you yapping about?”

He turns back around, moving to the door before rapping a knock. The guards re-enter the room.

“Take her to base.”

“Chan?”

He stands at the entrance of the tent, speaking to somebody in armor with a solemn expression. He turns around at the sound of his name, catching sight of you walking up.

He breaks out into a smile at the sight of you, eyes going wide as he excuses himself to sprint over. You’re not quite sure if the fatigue is causing you to hallucinate, but with the way his face becomes clearer with every step he takes, you have to convince yourself that you’re not.

As appropriate as it is to slam into him in a hug, considering you thought he was dead mere seconds ago, you can’t see yourself caring.

“They told me it was you that arrived,” he says.

“Oh my god, I thought you were dead. Everybody thought you were dead. How are you here?” you breathe into his ear.

He pulls away slowly, and you note how he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Chan?”

“There’s a lot to unpack here. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”

A lot to unpack there was, you realize, as the guards leave you with Chan when said to. The questions doubled when you entered the significantly warmer tent to find it swarming with familiar faces, busy working on tables littered with charts and papers, military symbols drifting overhead.

Chan is quick to let you know that none of the ‘fallen’ soldiers were missing at all. In fact, were stationed here at this military base.

Your gaping mouth renders no response as he fishes you both through the hustle and bustle of the industrial canopies, destination unknown. As much as you’d kick yourself for your lack of vigilance, you find yourself trusting him to take you wherever, your mind preoccupied with trying to absorb every detail of your environment.

If this was what sensory overload was, you’re not sure you like it blocking your thinking capabilities this much.

He lets you into another tent, littered with trunks and equipment, lit with a couple hardworking oil lamps. He goes to rummaging in random trunks as you watch.

“What is this place?”

“Inventory. Clothes and a bunch of other stuff,” he says as he throws you a pile of fabric. “Here, change into this, it’s warmer.”

He leaves you alone in the tent to change, which you do quickly to meet him again outside. Moving the flap of the tent away, you find him out in the snow waiting.

It isn’t until you’ve adequately cornered him that you can ask. “Chan, are being held here against your will? Is everybody here—”

“Wait, hold,” he holds a hand up to silence you. “Just—let me explain.”

You’re rendered silent in a corner of this base camp, albeit a little warmer than when you came in with the effective coat you’re now shrouded in. Other than being lost in a mine of confusion, you notice the calculated expression on Chan’s face when you bring it up. Like he didn’t know how you’d react.

“There’s been a lot of lies our entire life. One’s that we didn’t realize till we landed here,” he starts, facing the endless plane of snow to the East.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” you ask, keeping your eyes steady on him.

“These people aren’t cruel, nor are they the animals we’ve been told they are,”

“Chan, what is wrong with you?” you take a step back in mild exasperation.

“Listen, this sounds insane, but it’s only because we’ve been brought up to believe anything the government told us, anything our superiors drilled into our heads. I’d started having doubts while we were still home—”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Nobody wanted to tell you anything. You were more loyal to the General than you were to yourself!”

“I—because…” you falter. He was right.

“They’ve taken advantage of the way this land refuses to retaliate. We’ve been in the wrong this whole time.”

“I don’t know what it is that they’ve been feeding you for so long, but this isn’t the Chan that left home all those months ago.”

“You’re right,” you hear, but it’s not Chan.

Whipping your head around, you find the overlord himself walking to where you were.

“Apologies for interrupting, but I think you’re needed back there, Chan,” Minghao informs him as he regards him.

You whip back around to Chan, “Wait, you can’t just—”

“Listen, it’s going to take you a little bit, but I promise you’ll see what I mean,” he reiterates.

“This is absurd—” you start again but are cut off by him again. He lurches forward, grasping both your wrists in his, forcing you to pay attention to him.

“Do you trust me?”

“W-what?”

“Answer the question. Do you trust me?”

You stare at him, stumped for a moment. Did you trust him? Five months ago, before he left, you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. Yet, now you find yourself hesitating.

“Yes. I trust you,” you decide out loud.

“Then give it time. You’re shaken, you’re exhausted, you’re confused. You’ll make your decision yourself when you see for yourself.”

He watches your shoulders droop ever so slightly, a clear sign of your surrender. “Fine.”

“Good.”

You turn back to find the other man long gone, the vast expanse of snow and darkness engulfing the plane that leads to the congregation of tents. Chan begins to lead you back, mumbling about how he needs to get back inside.

It’s during your trudge that you realize there’s something that still bugs you, supposing you’d get your answer if you asked him.

“What’s the king doing meddling in military bases and war prisoners?” you begrudgingly ask.

“He’s very… hands-on, I guess. He cares about what happens around here, his land, his people.”

“Like a normal ruler?” you mumble in annoyance.

“When was the last time you saw the General leave his office?”

You haven’t.

A month. That’s how long you’ve been at this base camp.

Enlightenment may be an understatement to what this place is giving you, absurdities that they call the truth. Absurdities, as you may have called them a moon ago.

This barren country did not have a military, you were told. These makeshift headquarters were made to keep up with the endless external aggressions from the other side.

“They’re all people given the choice to stay. We needed the manpower. Military precision was never our forte,” Minghao explains.

You hate how he has an answer to every critical question of yours, how you’ve gone past thinking this was some elaborate, well-thought-out story to put your guard down, to put everyone’s guard down.

Sitting at this wooden table with maps and charts littering the surface, he looks you down from the other end. Chan remains silent next to you, knowing that if you asked, he would’ve given you the same response.

“So you’re trying to build an army? To what, retaliate?” Your arms remain crossed over your middle.

“We cannot retaliate,” Chan says.

“The difference in military power is too much, anyway. We can’t fight something that fights us in different ways,” Minghao finishes. He looks stressed, pinching the bridge of his nose. You watch him drag a chair to sit down.

The majority of camp was resting for the day, leaving the base relatively empty save for the three of you.

“Different ways?” you question.

You watch him close his eyes, running a hand over his face. “Chan, you told me she was smart.”

“She’s having a harder time adjusting than I thought she would,” he chuckles humourlessly in response.

“Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to take another month to figure it out on my own?” you snap.

“What have you been told about our borders? Why is this land the way that it is,” Minghao starts.

You don’t have an answer because you’ve never been told. The general was forever adamant that a land and its people were interconnected, that Minghao’s nation was as ruthless as the land itself was.

“What about what you thought?” he tries again.

“Nature’s weird, I don’t know,” you huff.

“You were so loyal to a man that had no rhyme to his reason. How blind did you have to be—”

“Keep to the question,” you monotone.

He exhales before continuing. “This land is the incarnation of balance. It might not look like it, but we play the most important role in making sure your nations remain stable.”

“Regular communities cannot survive in this weather, the livestock perishes, and crops cannot grow. Everything that makes humanity thrive remains absent here.” Minghao places his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “But it remains like this here so the rest of the world can foster humanity; that’s the purpose of this land.”

“A sacrifice of sorts,” Chan adds quietly.

“My land remains lifeless so others may thrive,” Minghao finishes.

“Why…why this land?” you question after a few beats.

He leans back against his chair, “I don’t know. Perhaps my ancestors were cursed. Perhaps this is just what this land was made to do. All I know is that my mother and father left me the job of ensuring this place is protected, as their mother and father taught them. All for the sake of keeping balance.”

It was wildly ironic that a place that was the definition of extreme was seemingly also harboring the balance to this world, but you found no jest in his words. You had also learned that it was the more unbelievable things here that would turn out to be most true, so you let yourself believe in whatever lore you had just unlocked.

“So you can’t retaliate,” you echo.

“Not if we wish to keep the peace, no.”

Chan chimes in this time, “This is all really just a misunderstanding that’s fallen into the wrong hands. The General’s a bloodthirsty fuck; this is just an excuse for him to retain power and satisfy all his sick fantasies.”

“How do we fix this then?” you dare to ask.

“We can’t,” Minghao says. “Not right now, at least. If we want to make a move, we have to grow as an entity. What your General doesn’t understand is how he’s feeding his own enemy whenever he sends some poor soldier our way.”

“That’s what everyone’s been working on. The SUN team is nearly complete with you here. We need to equip everyone here with skills more than anything,” Chan says.

“And then?”

“And then we let the General know who’s side we’re really on.”

Xu Minghao had a very peculiar way as King.

Other than remaining in the same bunkers as the rest of the population, you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone besides the guards address him as sovereign. He sat with everyone during mealtimes, spoke to everyone like a friend, yet remained the one in charge.

Over the months, you remained the last newcomer of the bunch, learning slowly but surely of your new truth. That was, until your sixth month.

It happened during breakfast, walking out into the dark sky to greet the person Minghao had told you was the newest aggravated prisoner. You knew her from headquarters, having seen her multiple times as she trained, but never learned her name. Her brows unfurrow slightly at the sight of you, recognizing you immediately.

You try to stay as others who remain familiar to the newcomer speak to her, adding where your credibility was due. You underestimated how difficult it would be, not because she was being frustrating, but because she was frustrated.

With every surge of exasperation she showed, every snarky remark to words of reason, you saw yourself. A strange, heavy feeling sets itself in your chest, making it difficult to speak, difficult to simply stand there as you watch her ideologies rendered as lies.

So you excuse yourself, moving out of the way into the snow you’d learned to make a confidant instead of an irritation. It wasn’t strange to find somebody contemplating alone in the snow, the constant darkness ready to keep everyone company.

You aren’t sure what it is that you want to contemplate, but simply sitting in the snow helps, allowing you to remain unstimulated. The weird feeling remained, but what also remained was your brain's inability to distinguish one from the other.

You don’t know how long you had been sitting there, but are aware of the lighter sheen of blue that the sky has turned into when you hear trudging behind you. You turn to find Minghao approaching, halting a foot away.

“Did you see the newcomer?” he asks.

“Yeah. They’re handling it, she’ll be fine.”

It falls silent once more. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t warmed up to the man in the past months, perhaps even enough to call yourself friends. Chan had quite the role to play in that.

He invites himself to sit next to you in the snow, letting out a deep exhale that fogs the air. “I wanted to ask if you were okay.”

You’re stumped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well…” he chortles. “You’ve been sitting here for a good three hours, so I only thought it was natural to assume.”

“It’s not good to assume.”

“And that you can’t be doing too well seeing the newcomer.”

“...Got me,” you whisper, still gazing into the far-off mountains.

“You can talk about it if you want,” he offers.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you sigh.

“Or is there too much to talk about?” he raises a brow.

You’ve turned to look at him at this point, making out his facial features with the low light of the lamps that burn in the distance.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Know what I’m thinking about.”

“You’re easier to read than you think,” he chuckles. “Why? D’you think I’m reading your mind?”

“Seems like it sometimes.”

“Do you miss home?” he asks, albeit a little cautiously.

“I do. I miss what it meant to me. I don’t think I could go back and feel the same way, though,” you answer. If he was trying to get you to open up, he was succeeding.

“Why’s that?”

You snort, “Obvious, isn’t it? Can’t call a place full of lies home. I can’t believe I let them manipulate me to that extent.”

You think of the mental turmoil on the girl's face.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were doing what you taught.”

“Other people found holes in the story, though. They saw the beginnings of what was really happening. I was so blind, they couldn’t even try to talk me out of it.”

“You can’t keep blaming yourself. It was the General’s job to be conniving. What use if his right hand could see through it. With how long it took you to come around, it only shows how dangerous he is.”

You remain silent as you absorb his words. There was truth to them, but you find it hard to dissolve it into your mindset.

“What matters is you're here now, that you chose the truth despite what you’d grown to learn.” He’s staring right at you when he says it, something you find as you look up to do the same.

There’s a lurch in your stomach, one that has your cheeks burning despite the temperature.

“How do you not hate any of these people? How do you not hate me? We’re the reason your people are so detested,” your voice comes out shaky, yet thick with a weird mix of emotions.

“I hate the ones that choose to be like this despite knowing what the truth is.”

“Like the General?”

“Like the General.”

It’s silent as you watch him gaze into your soul, an uncomfortable feeling yet one that stops you from looking away.

You want to kiss him.

The thought alone has you jumping in place, shaking off the way your body seems to have seized up. You move your knees away in blatant ignorance, looking at anything but his face.

“What?” he asks at your sudden change in behavior.

“Nothing!” you say, a little too loud to be considered casual.

“Why’d you move away?”

“I didn’t!” Of course, you realize how stupid you sound. You huff as you continue, “Just—I don’t know!”

“You don’t know what?”

“Goodness, you need to learn to drop things.”

“Not when it involves me,” he says.

“Who says it involves you?”

“Do we need to go over this again?”

You look at him in question, only to realize he could read you just as well as he could at any other instance.

“You’re not gonna like it,” you finally say.

“Try me.”

“Would you hate me if I said I wanted to kiss you?”

He pauses for an agonizing few moments, ones that make you feel like erupting into a ball of fire that could melt all the snow in the land. Your numb fingers fidget with each other, hating yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth.

Minghao uses his mouth in ways other than words when you feel it against your lips. It takes you a moment to realize what’s happening and another to let your body take control.

He’s kissing you so painfully slow it has you wondering if you’re imagining it, the feeling of his surprisingly warm lips on your frozen ones. You pull away for a moment, a question ringing in your mind.

“I’m not making a mistake, am I?” you breathe into his mouth.

“Absolutely not,” he says, diving back in with a force not present before.

You throw your arms around him in instinct to keep yourself from falling back onto the snow in his newfound enthusiasm. Not that you can find yourself complaining, especially not when his tongue prods against your bottom lip, urging you to open up for him.

You let him pull you closer, let him explore your mouth, let him hold you as you give yourself up to the feelings that now, after so long, have finally boiled over.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, remaining in each other’s arms as you gain your bearings.

“Figured it out, did you?” he asks with the slightest smirk.

Of course, with every passing instance that he’s reminded you of the mental walls you don’t seem to have with him, this was perhaps his end goal. You want to ask when he figured out you liked him before, wondering if he had known before you had in the first place.

He doesn’t let you, though, as his smiling lips meet yours again, chasing the feeling that's come forth after months of waiting.

You’ll find out the run down soon enough. For now, you give into him, believing in your ice-cold heart that Xu Minghao would never lie to you.

Taglist: @weird-bookworm @rubyreduji @vampirexlotita @simqly-yunjin @tomodachiii

#AAAA MIKA ILYSM IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE IT #the lore was a shot in the dark I'm happy to see it pay off lmao #i would do anything fo yew hush 😔#em.mika

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hedgehog-moss · 11 months ago

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In previous years I've tried uprooting small fir trees in my woods to use as Christmas trees, making sure to be gentle in the process and keep as much of their root system as I could, but when I replanted them in the woods later it just never worked. The trees didn't appreciate being treated like this, so last year I didn't even try replanting my Christmas tree and just fed it to the llamas (who did appreciate.)

I meant to do the same this year, and on my to-do list this week I had "cut a Christmas tree" and "get rid of 10m2 of broom plants" (this is on my to-do list in perpetuity. They grow so rampantly, if I didn't fight back there would be no pasture left.)

^ But then after I went and cut a bunch of horrible brooms I thought, well this is absurd, I'm going to kill a perfectly nice fir tree that I have no beef with, to have something green in my living-room for Christmas, when I could humiliate my plant nemesis by festooning its slain offspring with tinsel? I mean, shrubs are green. They fit the bill. I bet with a star on top they could pass for a Christmas tree.

At first I tried to cut a tall and large broom, then poke holes in its trunk with my drill to stick smaller broom branches in there like this: \o/ to give it a rough Christmas tree shape. It didn't work. Brooms as it turns out are extremely dense and fibrous and my drill didn't like drilling into them one bit.

So I lowered my expectations, and started gathering a big bouquet of younger brooms (the only positive aspect of broom invasiveness is that I have an infinite number of shrubs to experiment on. I cut a half dozen of them to try and drill holes into them and by the time I gave up, another two dozen had grown back in their place). I tied up my broom bouquet into something vaguely reminiscent of a fir and, I mean, with a star, it sort of looks the part?

I had to do the tying-up part several times, because the pretty and festive golden string I initially used was too weak. This bouquet of broom branches may look placid and easygoing in photographs, but when tied together tightly, it is determined to free itself.

But I managed to tame it using hay bale string. It didn't look happy with its fate, but I mean, it's a broom shrub. Its only ambition in life is to conquer as much pasture territory as possible and add it to its broom empire. It does not want to be a decorative plant in a living-room.

Take any historical figure who was mainly known as a ruthless conqueror and try to picture turning him into a Christmas tree. He won't look happy about it.

I ended up making two Christmas Brooms, one for the greenhouse and one for my living-room. The greenhouse one was originally meant for the living-room, but it was made up of particularly obstinate Pampe-like branches and I was worried one of my cats would poke it and the "tree" would suddenly break its chains in an explosion of vegetal triumph and traumatise the cat.

It may look like a peaceful Christmas Yew in the below pic, but don't underestimate its very strong desire to free itself from even the tough hay bale string, which forced me to use my garlands to tie it up some more, wrapping them around the "tree" less loosely and festively than usual. But I put my biggest star on top and that means it looks like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree with a restraining order.

This tree is held together with tinsel, threats, and Christmas magic.

In the dark and from afar you really can't tell it's a bunch of unruly invasive shrubs tied together <3 And here's the much thinner and therefore less angry version in my living-room:

It was tilting to the left somewhat worryingly so I put a heavy stuffed hedgehog at the bottom to stabilise it, and a mountain goat at the top to dissuade it. All hands on deck. They both look somewhat petrified, like they are begging the faux-tree to remain a tree for the duration of the holidays...

Thus ends my Christmas Broom journey. It was a bit of a pain to set up but at least an innocent fir out there got to escape a grim fate (devoured by llamas), and a small gang of invasive shrubs get to be looked at with approval and joy for the first time in their life. It's a win-win.

#crawling along

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eddiestightywhities · 17 days ago

Text

also on ao3 HERE

“So, I overheard this guy in the line at the coffee shop this morning talking about name meanings—”

“Of course you did,” Eddie interjects, not unkindly.

Buck turned up with beers about a half hour ago, and has had his head in his phone for the last, what, twenty minutes? Something like that.

This is the first thing he's said since Eddie let him in and he sat his ass down on the couch in silence, looking like he needed Eddie to just allow him to.

Eddie did.

“—and I thought I'd look up ours.”

He's chewing on his bottom lip like it tastes good.

Eddie surprises himself by wondering if it does.

“I'm guessing you already know what Christopher means.”

Thinking back to when Shannon asked if he liked the name, Eddie smiles.

“Means 'Bearer of Christ', or something, right? We chose it because was Shannon's grandfather's name, though. He was Greek, and she adored him.”

Searching fingers instinctively find his pendant. It's positioned to the left, sitting right over his heart.

He misses his son like he'd miss a lung.

Buck looks up at him and smiles back, and Eddie feels glad the release he'd found dancing 'round his living room earlier isn't going to suddenly disappear down the bathroom sinkhole, along with his moustache.

“So, tell me, what does Edmundo mean, oh scholarly one?”

Buck's eyebrows try to meet his hairline.

“You don't know?”

Eddie tips his head back against the couch and scrunches his mouth up into nose.

“I have sisters, man, of course I know what it means. But that doesn't mean I don't want you to tell me.”

Buck seems somewhat happy with that.

“Well, it's a derivative of the Old English name Edmund, which is a combination of the words ēad and mund. The first part means prosperity, or riches, which is a bit of a bust, sorry man,” and he tries for a grin. It almost hits.

“But the the mund part means protector—which is pretty spot on, I reckon.”

Buck's eyelashes are kind of blonde, and kind of pretty. Eddie's thought it before, but there's just something about them in this light, in Eddie's house, on Eddie's couch.

“It's actually a real pretty name, Edmundo. Don't know if I've ever told you I think that.”

“Don't think I've ever told you your eyelashes are kind of pretty, so that makes us even, I guess.”

Eddie smiles at Buck, big and genuine, and somehow it's so easy.

Buck smiles back. Looks a little confused, or pleased, or both. Eddie's not sure, but either is okay with him.

“Um, thanks?”

Eddie bites his tongue between his teeth in a poor effort to stop his grin turning positively goofy.

Buck takes it for what it is, and bats his eyelashes at Eddie, silly, and laughs.

His whole demeanor then changes as he finally settles properly into the couch and gifts his lungs with what might be the first proper breath he's taken since he arrived.

“Anyway, Evan is the worst of the three. It means yew, like the tree? Which is—it symbolises, like, spirituality, and rebirth and shit like that. 'S not really, uh, me, you know?”

“You mean like Evan isn't really you?”

Buck bites at his red, red lip again.

Eddie decides it'd taste like cherry Chupa Chups.

“Yeah. But it's—my name.”

“Except it isn't though, it's it?” Eddie reminds him. “You're name is Buck, Buck. You decided that.”

“I don't know why he always insisted on calling me Evan. Or why I just—let him. It was kind of weird.”

Tommy.

"Called? Past tense?” Eddie flips his tongue in his mouth. Breathes a little more deliberately.

Buck looks at his phone again before he's slowly placing it down on the couch between them.

His fingers are touching the outside of Eddie's thigh, and Eddie's suddenly acutely aware that he still isn't wearing any pants.

Buck leaves his hand where it is.

“He, uh, he dumped me. Because I—”

Buck sucks in oxygen, a lot of it, and holds it in his lungs before puffing out his cheeks as he makes a show of blowing it back out again.

“I asked him to move in with me.”

Eddie was not expecting either of those statements.

"Ouch.”

Buck's fingers twitch against Eddie's skin, and Eddie feels it travel right down his leg and into his toes, which curl involuntarily into the carpet.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, kind of knowing Buck doesn't. He will when he's ready.

“Not really.”

Eddie licks at his lips. They taste like beer, and a little like confidence.

“How about Buck?”

Buck looks at him, perplexed.

Eddie's leg is starting to cramp a bit.

He doesn't move it.

“A Buck is another name for a stag, right?” he continues. “And the stag symbolises strength and purity—

“Don't forget fertility” Buck is looking at Eddie, and it feels like something.

Eddie snorts. “'Course, don't wanna forget fertility.”

Buck smiles the first proper Buck smile of the evening, and Eddie's feels it in his chest.

“Hey, hang on, how come you know so much about stags, Edmundo?”

“You did that project with Chris about the forest.”

Buck blinks at him.

“Dude that was, like, years ago. And, as you said, I was the one learning all about the woodland creatures and different types berries and toadstools, so how do you—”

“Because you told me,” Eddie shrugs a shoulder.

Buck blinks some more.

“And you—remembered that?” he asks.

In this moment, Eddie couldn't blink, nor look away from Buck, even if somebody were to pay him.

“I remember everything you tell me.”

It's weird but it's like the air itself is crackling as they sit here, just staring at each other.

They look at each other for what feels like a long time. Or maybe it's just a single heartbeat, Eddie can't really be sure.

He watches as Buck swallows, his Adam's apple a calling card.

Eddie isn't entirely sure of why he thinks of that.

Until he is.

When Buck moves his hand, it's to slide it fully onto Eddie's thigh to just sit there, right at home.

Eddie's suddenly blinking so much he's a little worried he might be stroking.

He doesn't mean to say, “Can you smell toast?” but finds himself saying it anyway.

Buck smile is both crooked and adorable.

“You worried you're having a stroke, old man?”

“We'd have been at the same school at the same time, Buck. I'm not that much older than you.”

“You are old and I am young and everyone and the universe knows this,” Buck claims, cocky and sure of himself once more.

Eddie licks at his lips again.

“I, uh, I think I finally believe you.”

Buck now mirrors him, licking his own lips.

Cherry Chupa Chups.

“You mean about the universe?” he's asking, like he doesn't almost always knew what Eddie means.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

Buck waits.

Just as Eddie is thinking he really should go put some on some sweats or something, Buck must get impatient because he replies, “I think it always wanted you to believe.”

Eddie doesn't have a clue what time it is, or whether he had dinner or not, or how he got so damn lucky.

“I'm gonna choose to believe, because you believe—and I believe in you, Buck” he says, somehow both sure and unsure of absolutely everything that is to come.

At long last, he finds he is totally okay with that.

“Anyways, I can hear it now,” he tells Buck, “and I'm listening.”

unedited; pls be kind!

edited version now found HERE on ao3 if you'd like to pop across and leave me a comment xp

#this just happened #buddie #buddie fic #911 spoilers #911 #911 fic #coda for s08e06: confessions #evan buckley #eddie diaz #pov eddie #after the phantoms of your former self #fanfic #queer fic #queer writer #qww writes #queerweewoo

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cheolhub · 1 year ago

Note

YOUR MINE AND I TAKE CARE OF WHAT BELONGS TO ME + CHEOL

Also happy cheolhubversary <333 IM NOT YET DONE READING UR POST i just ran as fast as i could here when yew said ure only taking the first 5-10 reqs hajdjdjsk

12:37 a.m. — choi seungcheol

prompt. “you’re mine and i take care of what belongs to me.”

wc. ~1.4k

warnings. established relationship, frat boy!cheol, cheeky!reader, slight possessiveness, choking, pet names [baby, angel], doggy style? (idk, it’s against the door 😅) dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie – MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so ik i said my limit was 1k for these drabbles, but plz understand i can’t hold back when it comes to cheol. ANYWAY!! kai <3 thank u for sending an ask !! ^^ i know this is kinda… meh,, but i hope u enjoy it a little bit anyway >< (def not proofread… sorry)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash! ࿐ྂ

seungcheol dragging you through a sea of sweaty bodies was the last thing you wanted.

well, no actually… it’s exactly what you wanted. your plan worked out just the way you knew it would.

your attempts to get cheol’s attention at the start of the night proved to be futile as he had to make sure tonight’s party was in order. “the frat might get suspended if another one of our parties gets out of control,” he’d said. you could care less about the frat. not with the way your panties were glued to your needy, needy core. “i just gotta make sure everything is okay. just mingle for a bit, ‘kay?”

and you definitely weren’t the happiest when he told you to wait till the night was over, so you did what you do best.

piss him the fuck off.

by the time the party was in full swing, you’d asked at least 3 of seungcheol’s frat brothers the same question. “this party is so lame,” you’d said through a sad sigh. “can you do something for me?” the question always came out so…suggestively. it was obvious you were plotting something and looking for someone to do the dirty work.

but soonyoung was too drunk to comprehend your words and wonwoo knew the second you’d walked up to him with a frown on your face. he said he’s not getting in between you and seungcheol after the last time he fell for your antics.

but vernon… vernon was the perfect prospect. he would get the job done perfectly.

“nonnie,” you pouted, much too pretty for his liking. “will you do me a favor?”

and vernon, ever the sweet angel, replied with, “anything. what’s up?”

you leaned in and ghosted your lips over the shell of his ear, “will you tell cheol that this party fucking sucks?” you felt his body vibrate against yours as he let out a soft laugh. “and tell him that if he doesn’t come fuck me, i’ll find someone that will.”

vernon pulled back and wearily raised an eyebrow at you.

“i’m not actually going to,” you explained through a laugh. “but if i tell him, he’ll know i'm bluffing. but if you tell him while also mentioning you heard this from wonwoo and soonyoung, then… you know. i get what i want and everyone’s happy.” you corrected yourself, “well, i’ll be happy.”

the thing you love the most about vernon is he doesn’t ask very many questions. you could ask him to help you bury a body and he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye, just do as you ask with a nod and a careless shrug.

he went off and did exactly that. and you didn’t regret making him do it at all.

how could you when seungcheol was seething, practically shoving everyone out of his way to find you after hearing that you needed someone at this shitty party to fuck you? you’ll have to find the loose-lipped vernon later and thank him for relaying the rumor to your busy boyfriend.

honestly, you weren’t expecting him to drop everything– to stop running the party which was the whole reason he left you hanging in the first place– just to pull you into his room, wrap his hand around your throat, and slam you against the door.

“you’re a little slut,” he chuckles, obviously amused. you smile back at him cheekily, eyes glazing over. “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”

“what ever do you mean, cheollie?” you ask innocently, still smiling like a devil in disguise.

he leans in, lips ghosting over yours as he asks, “i mean, you really think anyone at this party can fuck you like i do? make you cum like i can?”

his voice is low and hushed and it’s making your head spin. even over the booming music from outside his door, all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his slight pants.

“you’re mine.” he says without a shadow of a doubt. “and i take care of what belongs to me. got that?”

you don’t have a chance to reply when he’s tightening his grip around your throat and smashing his lips against yours. he laughs against your mouth when you let out a choked moan into his, easing his hold on you.

his free hand finds its way under your skirt, rubbing your cunt through your embarrassingly wet panties. seungcheol moans when he feels it. the lace growing wetter with every movement.

he pulls back, observing your glassy eyes and the way your wet, swollen lips part to emit a whine. his cock can’t help but twitch under the confinement of his jeans. “don’t even need me to prep you, do you, baby?” he breathily asks. “you’re soaking my hand through your panties, poor thing.”

you shake your head fervently, “just need you inside of me. please.”

“i know you do, such a needy baby. going around and telling everyone how you need someone to fuck you.” he coos, fingers catching your clit and rubbing into the sensitive clothed bud. your hands grasp at the hem of his shirt, trying to gyrate your hips for more, but you fail miserably. “impatient, too.” he hums.

“fuck, cheol, please!” you whine desperately.

he groans, ripping his hands away from you entirely before spinning you around and pressing your front against the door. you softly gasp as your cheek smooshes against the wooden door.

you hear the clanking of his belt and the zip of his zipper and you can barely contain your excitement. you flatten your palms on the door, arching your back and wiggling your ass in front of him.

he grunts at the sight, flipping your dress up and pulling your panties to the side. he slots his heavy tip between your lips and runs it through your drenched folds.

a mewl erupts in your chest when you finally feel the fat head of his cock slip into you, stretching you open as he pushes himself deeper and deeper till he’s fully sheathed inside of you. he grazes right against your spongy spot and it has your hands clawing at the door.

seungcheol lets you adjust to the sheer size of him for all but a minute before he’s pulling out and thrusting back into you.

and when his arm wraps around your middle, fingers diligently rubbing into your clit, you can’t hold the cry back. his name leaves your mouth rather loudly and you’re starting to feel grateful for the rambunctious party.

his laughs airly, “this what you wanted, baby? wanted to get fucked, yeah?”

pained pleasure shoots through your body with every thrust, every bump to your cervix, every dirty word he grunts into the hot room, and it feels fucking fantastic. you clench around him, velvet walls squeezing him tight as if they’re trying to mold to the shape of him.

“cheol!” is the only coherent thing that you can get out as his balls lewdly and rapidly slap against your cunt.

“getting close? you ‘bout ready to cum for me?” he groans, mercilessly driving into you. you probably can’t hear him over the sounds of your moans, so he just rubs circles deeper into your clit, feeling you clamp around his cock for the nth time.

you sob, a coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter before you jerk. your walls flutter and pulse around him as you let go, creaming his dick just like you’ve wanted to all night long. you practically go limp in his arms, orgasm turning your entire body to jelly.

he groans, both of his arms now around your middle as he uses you till he reaches his own high. he’s moaning out your name as he shoots his load into your battered cunt, his warmth overflowing inside of you.

and when he draws out of you, still panting and on a high, he pulls your panties back over your cunt and stands you up straight.

you look breathless and dazed and he can’t help but grin at you.

“now why don’t we go back downstairs and enjoy the lame party?”

#[ birthday bash ! ]#seungcheol smut #scoups smut #[ ⭐️: mutuals ! ]#[ 🌷: kai ! ]#[ 🍒: seungcheol ! ]

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philistiniphagottini · 4 months ago

Note

hope you’re having a wonderful day nagi 🫂 let us know what you’ve been up to recently, and please please share the ideas you mentioned with chubby reader ꒰ ˊᵕˋ ꒱

i’d love to hear them ٩(˶˃ᗜ˂)و and i also have a request fur yew if it’s something you’re interested in. i’m always running back to re–read your domestic bliss event fic w childe, and so... 🙇‍♀️ could i request some more fluff / comfort with childe and fem. reader please? (chubby reader if you wanted ❤ )

‘was thinking fluffcomfort sharing a bath with him because soft nudity <33 just melting back into ajax, and fem. reader expressing her insecurities about not feeling pretty or worth enough. maybe with a hint of head massages.. or soft sweet teasing 😣😣 thank you sm nagi, keep taking care of urself dear pookie ෆ

Hey miauamy! I see your pfp has changed again and it's really cute! I'm so happy to see you back I hope you have been well since we last spoke. I always get so excited to see you, your ideas are always so lovely. And if you have anymore, please share them I'm always happy to hear them ^3^

Thank you for letting me indulge a bit with this, I low key self-projected, but I love the comfort of sharing a bath I need to do it for more characters it's a lot of fun. And oh my god I loved my domestic bliss event it was a lot of fun to write so much fluff. Guys, please let me know if you want me to do it again. I was thinking about doing it during August, because that's when my birthday is, and I wanted to do something special for it. Anyways, enough yapping I hope you enjoy~

cw. fluff, comfort, bathing, nudity but no smut, chubby reader, female reader, 1.7k words

“Hey Childe, can I ask you a question? And be honest with me.”

Childe hummed in response as his body sank further into the warm waters of the bathtub, fingers tangled in his hair as he flicked out the stray beads of bubbles that had managed to somehow knot in his hair. His gaze flickered over to you as you huddled yourself on the opposite end of the bathtub. Your knees were pulled to your chest, arms hugged tight around them as you stared absentmindedly at the wisps of steam stemming from the surface of the water. Copious amounts of bubbles obscured your plump figure beneath the water’s surface, the suds clinging to your skin like a second layer.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, tongue wetting your dry lips as your eyes continued to flick between Childe and a random spot on the light’s fixture dangling above your heads. He patiently waited for you to speak as you tried to pick the right words out of your head, turning them over and over as his gaze became lidded in contented bliss. This hot bath was doing wonders for his aching muscles and it felt like he could start to drift off as his eyes drooped. But your voice snapped him right back to attention as you asked the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind for far too long.

“Do you think I’m fat?” you asked, a hint of hesitance lacing your tone.

As soon as the words breezed past your lips, you desperately wished you could snatch them back and shove them down your throat. You shyly peered up at Childe beneath thick lashes as they fluttered over your hot cheeks, a fresh wave of embarrassment eating away at your nerves when you took one look at Childe’s face. His eyebrows had shot up to his hairline as he gave you an incredulous look like you had just slapped him across the face, the hit dazing him and still stinging even after he took a few seconds to process what had been said. Childe cocked his head to the side, his single earring gently clinking as the ruby gleamed under the soft light.

“Why the sudden question?” he asked cautiously.

You shook your head, knees pressed tighter to your chest as your heart threatened to jump straight out of your throat. You swallowed it back down with a shuddering breath, pulse pounding in your ears like the loud beat of a drum as an immense wave of guilt sank its icy fangs into your bones. You shouldn’t have said anything. You should have kept your thoughts to yourself. You hated how such a simple question was already sending your mind into a tizzy, crystalline tears pricking in the corners of your eyes as you fought them back. Being this vulnerable certainly wasn’t as easy as shedding a few layers of clothes. You took a deep breath and you hated the little sniffle that grated against your ears as you tried to let the scent of expensive oils curl in your lungs and calm your frantic nerves.

“Forget I said anything” you stammered.

Childe hated the way your nose scrunched up and despite his rugged looks and haggard body, he felt the overwhelming urge to coddle you. He raised his hand and beckoned you to come closer.

“Come here” he softly cooed.

You shook your head as you dabbed your fingers under your eyes, trying to stem your flow of tears. You planted your feet firmly on the bottom of the tub and refused to budge.

“No” you defied, yet there was hardly a trace of fight in your voice.

“Come here” Childe urged, his voice turning into sickly sweet honey.

You hesitate and that’s when Childe choose his moment to strike. The moment your tense muscles relaxed, his hands shot out and wrapped around your ankles. You barely had time to react, your loud shriek echoing off the tiled walls as his strong hands curled into your skin and you were pulled into his direction. Water sloshed and spilled over the lip of the tub as Childe caught you in his grasp, strong hands gripping your plump hips and soft stomach as he dragged your naked body into his lap. The tips of your ears burned red hot as your knees fell beside his hips and you squirmed, but he was not letting go of you that easily.

“What’s wrong love?” Childe asked, cooing your name softly.

You pressed the seam of your lips into a tight, thin line as you shook your head again, tussling the stray beads of water out of your hair. You placed your hands on his chest, gently shoving him away to create some distance between you. You must be heavy sitting on top of him like this and you would hate it if you caused him any amount of discomfort. You refused to look at him, a small pout tugging at your plump lips as your cheeks puffed up.

“Nothing” you lied.

A soft chuckle breezed past Childe’s lips at your defiance, a patient smile stretching his lips as he brushed the hair out of your glassy eyes and tugged the long strands behind your ears.

“It’s obviously something if you’re being a pouty baby about it” Childe countered, gently prodding at you. “Come on, tell me.”

You squeaked as he bounced you in his lap, legs shifting beneath you to better hold you closer. You could feel his thunderous heartbeat dance beneath the palm of your hand, the tips of your fingers tingling as they pressed against the deep scar that was slashed across his ribs.

“It’s nothing” you said. “I’m just fat and ugly.”

A sharp hiss whistled through your teeth as Childe pinched your round cheeks with his calloused fingers, tugging on your skin until you started to make a fuss. There was a small pinch between his brow, but his expression eased when he next spoke.

“No one is allowed to speak ill of you” Childe reprimanded. “And that includes you.”

You weakly swatted at his hands until he decided to relent. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment but you couldn’t find the strength in yourself to move away from Childe. It was nice, being pressed this close to him as he gently eased your worries with each passing moment. You stuffed your dry lips between your teeth, idly chewing on the cracked and peeling skin as you softly sniffled.

“Be honest. I am fat” you muttered, letting go of your bruised lips as a dejected sigh blew past your lips.

“You are not” Childe immediately responded.

The nasty thoughts itching at the back of your skull paused in their relentless onslaught as your ears perked up. His voice sounded so genuine and sincere that you were inclined to believe him. But the seeds were already so buried deep within your heart and soul that just a few words of affirmation weren’t quite enough to simply uproot them. Childe squeezed your soft stomach into the palms of his large hands until the soft pudge spilled between the splayed digits. You squirmed from the attention, not quite used to having your love handles squeezed so fondly.

“You’re like a little chubby bird” Childe said, plucking words out of his head as he looked thoughtful. “They’re round and cute. How could you hate such innocent, soft creatures?”

A disgruntled noise bubbled up your throat as you buried your flushed face into the crook of his neck, hiding your unshed tears as you nudged your head into his damp skin.

“Stop” you complained.

Even if you grumbled about it, your body was completely relaxed around him and your words were starting to lose its bite. Since you were content to keep your face pressed so close to him, Childe thought it was the perfect opportunity to reach for the shampoo bottle sitting perched next to him. He swiped it from its spot and popped the cap to it, briefly pressing it to his nose as the scent of passion flowers tickled his senses. You nuzzled your face deeper into his neck as Childe massaged his fingers through your hair, lathering the shampoo into your locks as he gently teased the tangles out. Your eyes slipped close in the silence that followed, the nasty thoughts that had bubbled to the surface finally sinking back into the abyss where they belonged. Your ears pricked forward as Childe decided to speak again, letting the thoughts in his head flow out without rhyme or reason, yet done with so much practiced ease that you felt like he had said them over and over again.

“You know, I sometimes wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You’re beautiful. Even if you gained weight, you’d still look gorgeous to me. You’re healthy and perfectly fine with just the way you are. And I’ll keep telling you and proving you wrong no matter how much you bad mouth yourself. You’re my sweet girl and nothing is going to take you away from me.”

It took you a long moment to process his words as he continued to rub his fingers along your scalp. You melted into his touch, a contented purr rumbling in your chest as your body thrummed with content. You smiled softly as you pressed your cheek into his shoulder, looking up at him with eyes just as dazed as your mind.

“Has anyone ever told you how much of a sweet talker you are, Tartaglia?”

He shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant roll, forcing you to move your head as you pressed closer to him. His lips brushed against the tip of your nose as he chuckled softly, the faintest hint of sparkle in the depths of his azure gaze.

“I’m a debt collector, sweet talking is part of the deal.”

You hummed softly as you poked your fingers into his side, your fingertips tickling his ribs as you idly traced the dips of his scars. Not even that was much of a distraction as he finished lathering your hair in sweet scented shampoo, the tips of his fingers already pruning from how long you had both been soaking in the tub for. .

“Feel a bit better?” he asked.

You hummed in agreement. “A bit. Thank you.”

You briefly pressed your lips to his cheek. When you pulled back, your nose crinkled.

“I think you should wash your hair too. It smells like a battlefield.”

#my writing #request #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin childe #childe tartagalia #childe x reader #x reader #x chubby reader #fem!reader

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alexxncl · 5 months ago

Text

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 42 SPOILERS‼️

...you're quite literally among the 10 most popular/elite demons in the ENTIRE devildom wtf are you talking about 😭 ofc they'd send you here

lucifer thinks he's funny (he is)

OH THAT MAKES SENSE

bc that twitter notification threw me for a loop 🫠 i thought they killed karasu or smth idk

anyways i want blacjak to get a little picture thingy like the ones they have for cerberus and henry and the little d's

BYE HE'S AN ASSHOLE 😭 ik he meant no harm but i audibly laughed at this i love asmo sm

the extortion is crazy /j

sn i love seeing big brother levi in action

...nvm i take it back. why are you yelling at ME when i went out of MY way to help YEW like dpmo

i hate it when my family does this 😭 watch me never help you again. then what

levi :(((

the sad music in the background made this hurt more than i thought it would ngl. like he already has low self-esteem and self-worth so being shut down like this after trying to help HAD to hurt him

but i also get that asmo probably doesn't like being mediocre/bad at something, especially since it's levi we're talking about. asmo's the world's biggest flirt, levi gets a nosebleed if mc smiles at him. levi is anxiety-ridden and introverted (levi 🤝🏽 me), asmo is outgoing and extroverted. in asmo's eyes, he should be able to easily learn from levi since he's already leagues ahead of him in other areas, but it's frustrating that he's not understanding a lick of what levi's trying to help him with

what's funny to me is brothers being all concerned about them making up and lucifer's just like "they'll make up once they get their heads outta their asses" SHDHJSHDJS

some real sibling shit right here

at first, i couldn't figure out if this was levi being petty or levi wanting to wait until asmo's ready to talk to him, but i'm like 99% sure it's the latter. he's only ever this petty with mammon if we're being honest, and i wouldn't put it past him to already know what's going on in asmo's head

ok i was kinda right but this is better than what i was thinking

big brother levi makes me so happy i love him sm :(

i'll beat a bitch ass don't play

honestly i'm glad they made this an easy to solve conflict bc i wouldn't want something like this to drag into the next lesson 😭 but whoever did this to asmo can suck my dick from the back

...no way they ended the lesson like that

obey me devs when i catch you

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thestarstoasun · 2 months ago

Note

I need the Michael Yew brainrot, just him shooting Luke and yelling at Lee like "why the hell do you keep fucking that?!"

Please tell me about this AU, I'm completely normal and sane about TA Lee

THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I IMAGINE WHEN I THINK OF THEM.

○ When Lee first brought his siblings to the darkside - sometime during SoM while Percy & co are on their quest - Michael literally slaps him across the face when he tells them they aren't going on a camp field trip, but going to join the titan army.

Michael: "I know you're stupid, but I hoped there was a brain in that head somewhere."

Lee, smiling and holding his bow: "Luke is well aware what will happen if any of you so much as get a scratch. Kronos himself won't be spared."

Kayla: "So- no field trip? What a bust! You have to get us snacks to make up for this utter betrayal!"

Austin: "Yeah!"

Will: "I'm just happy to to wherever Lee is"

• Michael, Will, Lee, Austin, and Kayla go back to CHB as infiltration & basically recruitment sects. There was a lot of Leeluke debate about this because of the involvement of Lee's siblings.

• You know Gods send dreams to demigods and mortals? Kronos does this to Lee whenever Luke starts to be insufferable

• Luke slowly actually "corrupts" Lee to the cause by pointing out actually valid points

• Michael is absolutely insufferable on all fronts about this arrangement. He literally can't believe he's been dragged into the titan army all because he's an apollo kid & Lee has attachment issues.

• Michael is very on-the-fence about being in the TA and has a crush on Jake Mason - he won't admit it, but everyone but Jake knows.

• Luke tries very hard to get along with Michael, and meanwhile Michael is flipping him off, making the most passive aggressive comments known to man, rolling his eyes, whole 9 yards

Luke: "WILL YOU STOP SHOOTING AT ME!? I DIDN'T EVEN DO ANYTHING!"

Michael perched on a lamppost, glaring: "You're literally the reason I'm here right now."

Luke: "I wanted my amazing partner. I didn't realize I got a ferret as a package deal."

Michael: "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING A FERRET!?"

This has taken so long because I'm still undecided whether I wanna take a page outta SoSF and let Bianca live with the consequences of someone else dying on the TTC quest, but it would also change the entire trajectory of canon & I don't want to receive hate if I put Annabeth in the Hunters 😔 I wanted to add a secret detail and couldn't decide LMAO

#chasms ta lee au #really its more the apollo cabin but we focus on Lee 😭#Michael is the definition of a menace in this au #im so sorry it took me so long to finish getting around to this 😭😭😭#pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #apollo cabin #lee fletcher #michael yew #sunforge #michael yew/jake mason #leeluke #luke castellan #answered

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hymnserendipity · 4 months ago

Text

Iwaizumi parenting

Fluff, mention of She/Her pronuns

Since today is Iwaizumi's day off, and you are at work, he decided to not bring your four years old daughter Sakura to the kindergarten, instead he decided to spend the whole day with her.

After breakfast, noticing Sakura was starting to wake up iwaizumi went to her and picked her up.

"Sakura, we are going to go jogging. Be a good girl for a while."

"Nooooo noooo"

"Shhhh... We will be back soon!"

But the little one decided to tuck herself under the blankets out of protest.

"Wake up now or I'm tickling you."

"Noooooooo nooo i wannanaa stay homwe plweese"

"Nope, we are going jogging." He look at Sakura for a moment and started digging through her closet to look for a sport clothes for her.

"papa bad" She pout.

He chuckled and smirked, then found a jogging clothes and throw it on her little bed.

"Oh cmon."

He changed his tone to softer one and he pats her head.

"You think your papa is bad?"

"Yews"

"Then how about you say sorry to papa?"

He says in soft tone, while handing her a waffle. He definitely doesn't want his own daughter to dislike him.

"No , no jogging then good papa"

He sighed, realizing that he can't really win against a four-years old kid.

"Fine, we won't jog then... But you have to be a good girl while papa exercise outside, ok?"

"No" He sighs again. Iwaizumi is now stuck in the room with his four years old daughter that is being stubborn. He sat down on the floor and thought how to entertainment her.

"Then... Do you wanna play with your toys or do you wanna watch your favorite tv show?"

"Papa TV with me"

He knows he's losing to a kid as he gave up and let out a sigh.

"Ok ok... I'll watch tv with you... What do you want to watch now?"

"Change mind.I wanna do hair"

"Do... Hair..?" He repeated after her, a bit confused at her choice of entertainment, but he lets her do it anyways. After all, the time he spent with her is the most important thing to him.

"Alright, sure. Do my hair then."

As she start, iwaizumi chuckled at her soft touch on his spikes hair. He sat there and just let her do whatever she wanted to his hair, not minding the situation at all. He even put a smile on his face.

"See? I'm better than mommy, huh?"

He had a bit surprised look on his face as he felt she put his hair in pony tails. But he doesn't stop her, and instead, just let her continue with it and keep a smile.

"Hmph... I look stupid, don't I?"

"No, papa pretty"

His heart melt a little at the compliment. He let her finish doing his hair and turned his head towards her.

"Yeah? You think I'm pretty, hm?"

"Yews"

He chuckled at her little cute words. He then picked her up and put her down on his lap.

"I love you, you know?"

"Love papa"

His heart melt again at her cute words. He softly pat her head as he smiled at her.

"And papa loves you too, a lot."

"Now papa maleup"

"Maleup?"

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow.

"You mean makeup?"

"Yews"

He had a bit surprised look on his face when his four years old daughter asked him to use makeup on her. He didn't expect it at all but, well, he can try.

"Um... sure, but I don't know a lot about makeup, so you gonna have to be a little patient with me, ok?"

Iwaizumi let out a chuckle as he let her draw on his face with her mom's lip stick. He couldn't help but to find her adorable. He even kept sitting down, letting her paint his face while he smiled at her little action. He patiently waited for her to finish painting his face. It's messy, of course, but he doesn't mind. All that matters is that she's happy.

"Hmph... There. Done."

He chuckled, but secretly, he hopes that you won't mind your lip stick being used by their 4 year old daughter.

"Yews" she say nodding. Iwaizumi chuckled at her action, putting her down gently and checked his reflection on his phone. He had messy red colored marks on his face while it's still obvious that the makeup was not done by a professional, judging that it's painted by a toddler.

He laughed at the ridiculous sight on his face, before turning his head back to her.

"Heh... How do I look?"

"pretty papa" He looked at the time and realized that it's already lunch time. He stands up and picked up Sakura.

"Ah, thank you, dear."

He replied to her.

"Are you hungry? Let's prepare lunch then."

Yews"

"Ok... What do you want to eat, hm?"

He carried her to the kitchen and put her on a stool next to the counter. While still holding her in his arms, he started to look for ingredients for their lunch in the fridge.

"ICE CREAM" Hajime let out a huff as he heard her answer. Of course, she wanted ice cream. He turned his head around to her and put a frown on his face.

"Ice cream for lunch? Come on... we have to eat something healthy too." But she look at him mad. Seems like he can't win with her today when it comes to food. He let out a sigh and started to pull out some ice cream from the freezer.

"Alright, fine. I'll let you have ice cream. But only this time tho, understood?"

"Ehehe"

He shook his head slowly as he chuckled a little. He then let her pick the ice cream she wanted and put it down on the counter so she can start eating a bit.

"Now sit there and wait patiently, ok? Papa will prepare the rest of our lunch."

He start chopping the vegetables while checking on Sakura from time to time, making sure she's not going anywhere. As he cut the last vegetable, he then started to cook them on the pan. He's definitely not the best cook, but hopefully he can make something edible.

"Noooo nooo green"

Hajime let out a sigh as he heard her complaining about the vegetables. He turned his head around to her and put on a little frown on his face. Seems like the battle against her eating vegetables has begun.

"Yes, green... You need to eat your veggies too, you know?"

"No veggi"

He let out a huff. Seems like he can't win this.

"You have to eat your veggies, don't just eat the ice cream. Just a couple of bites, alright?"

"No"

He groaned. She can be so stubborn sometimes. He decided to stop arguing with her and focused on preparing the food instead.

"You're so damn stubborn, you know that right? Ow!"

He flinched in surprise when she suddenly bit his arm. He quickly puts her down from the stool and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Why the hell did you bite me?"

Then the little girl smile. "Oh u said bad word"

He froze for a moment when he realized he said a curse word in front of her. Damn it. How is he going to explain that to her?

"Ah... I'm sorry for that, ok? That's a bad word that you shouldn't say. Promise me you won't say that word, alright?"

"I tell mummy" He froze for a moment as her words. Oh right, she can tell you that he said a curse word in front of her.

"No, don't tell mommy... Please?"

He pleaded and put on a pathetic face. Seriously... He can't let her tell you that he said a bad word.

"Then no veggie"

He thought of it for a moment. He can't believe that he has to make a deal with a toddler over eating vegetables... He sighed before speaking.

"Fine... I won't make you eat veggies if you don't tell mom that I said a bad word. Deal?"

"Ehehehehehehe" He chuckled as he saw her being happy about it. She's definitely a smart kid, but he just wishes that it's not used against him in a situation like this.

"You're so annoying..."

He says jokingly as he pinched her cheek.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff

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a-998h · 7 months ago

Note

How would the Stardust Crusaders react to a vampire reader with a Cockney accent who wants revenge against Dio for turning them into a vampire? At the the fight with Dio, reader immediately cusses him out in full Cockney and nobody, except Dio, could understand a single thing they're saying lol

Joseph: Are you an agent of Dio?

Reader: Neva in me loife would I eva work for that bloody wankah! Look wot that bloke did to me!

I'm american and have never heard a cockney accent in my life.... I tried writing it as best as I could

Jotaro Kujo

Oh fuck

The first time you meet... he tries to murder you

After you explain you're harmless sort of

He has no trust in you because... vampire, but your accent makes things off too

He isn't around a lot of British people back home, and decades in America has evened out Joseph's accent... and the only person Joseph knew with a cockney accent was Speedwagon, who's dead

That, combined with the rhyming slang that is used by those with a cockney accent...

Jotaro: So, are you with us or against us?

Reader: I'm with yew koid

Jotaro: The hell are you saying?

He tries his best but he still doesn't understand you

Weary of you because of your vampiric nature

Keeps an eye on you so you don't attack them

Tries to figure out your slang

Jotaro: Why did you work for Dio?

Reader: Oi didn't willingly work for vat Hampton wick!

Joatro *confused*

Reader: Wot, yew don't understand me?

Bonds with you over other things

Starts to like you after you try to protect him

He now understands fully that you want to drown Dio in holy water

Starts picking up on your slang... and he hates it

When you curse Dio in full cockney... he silently cheers for you

Smirks and says he's proud of you for cursing out Dio

Oldesph

Joseph: Are you an agent of Dio?

Reader: Neva in me loife would I eva work for that bloody wankah! Look wot that bloke did to me!

Yeah, after that his Britishness returns

He starts to pick up on your slang, and it bonds you two

Is basically a sort of translator between you and the group

Sometimes, even he can't understand you through your accent

When his accent starts to show, he jokes that it's your fault

You two bond over your hate of Dio and being British

Asks you about his grandfather if you were turned during Phantom Blood

He tells you about Speedwagon, cause that is the only person he knows with a cockney accent

Joseph: You have a Stand?

Reader: you can't Adam and Eve it?

Joseph: Don't get brassed off at me!

Tries to explain American things to you and it's fun to watch

He is not happy about being a translator when he sometimes can't understand you

When you all get to Dio and you go full Cockney... he gives a 👍

Laughs and cheers you on as you curse out Dio with all the British slang and cockney rhyming slang you know

Pats you of the back when you're done

Hopes the Speedwagon foundation can cure you of being a vampire

Jean Pierre Polnareff

He might have heard some cockney tourists when in France

Knows you from when he worked with Dio, so can vouch you're harmless... to the Crusaders

Polnareff: Oh Reader, it's good to see you're free mon ami!

Reader: Polnareff! Oi haven’t seen you for donkey’s!

Polnareff: I still can't fully understand you, but I've missed you

He works with Joseph as a translator for you to the others

He has taught you some French slang and you've taught him cockney slang

Likes your accent

Will defend you if people mock you due to your accent

Has written translations for the others

Hopes to get you cured of being a vampire

Teaches you french... which confuses more people

Polnareff: Do you like kabobs?

Reader: Yew bloody eejoit!

Polnareff: *confused* I'm not an idiot, I just asked if you wanted food!

Helps you talk with the locals in towns

😁👍 <- face he makes when you curse out Dio

Know your anger transcends any language

So happy you vented before helping in Dio murdering

Noriaki Kakyoian

Also knows you from when he was a Dio servant

He never could grasp your accent or slang

Tries his best to understand you

He asks Polnareff to explain to what the hell you're saying

Reader: Kakyoian, let me give yew a lump of ice.

Kakyoian: We don't have any ice

Reader: I don't mean actual ice.

Wishes to have a book of your slang

He starts to pick up on slang you use

Also let's the others know you are harmless... kind of

Thinks rhyming slang is cool

Starts to pick up on your slang, just uses things wrong sometime

Sometimes he uses the slang which leads to funny situations

Kakyoian: Want an oily rag Polnareff?

Polnareff: An oily rag?

Reader: *laughing like a maniac*

You have to explain what so slang means

When you all face Dio... he just stares in shock as you go fully cockney swearing

At some point he starts laughing at the sight

Muhammad Avdol

The most confused out of all of them

Outside of Joseph, he hasn't met a lot of British people

He is the most on edge with you, being a former servant of Dio

Once he warms up to you, he is still confused about what you're saying

Your slang is confusing to him...

Relies on Polnareff and Joseph for translation at some points

Can understand you when you aren't using the rhyming slang

The concept of rhyming slang is cool to him

Might pick up on some slang, but uses it wrong

Avdol: I saw something tumble down the sink.

Reader: *stares in confusion* maoite....

Avdol: I'm asking for a drink.

Reader: Vat.. Vats not wot vat means

You two bond over other things

Is shocked when you curse out Dio

Knows you hated Dio, but damn

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cursecuelebre · 29 days ago

Text

The Anglo-Saxon Rune poem.

Now this isn’t the only rune poem in existence there is Norwegian and Icelandic rune poems. Now I prefer Anglo-Saxon and believe it to be more accurate but there’s nothing wrong with reading the Norwegian or Icelandic and choosing it. But these said poems won’t have all the runes associated with the poems even some extra Runes or less than of the traditional Aetts. But right now I’m focusing on a the Elder Futhark which is all included in the Anglo-Saxon poem at times different names and translations.

This poem is also Galdr and speaking the poems you’re essentially invoking and evoking them. Runes are very powerful letters and magical symbols that must be treated with high respect. Some can be dangerous to use like ᚦ. It’s also used for anyone who wants to study and learn the runes in depth, reading the poems can gather your own interpretation of them. Also the Anglo -Saxon includes a few extra runes. I recommend if you were to use the actual Anglo Saxon Runes look and study the runes because yes it is describing the same rune some don’t look like the Elder Futhark, for instance Ansuz (Elder Futhark) and Aesc (Anglo Saxon) are the same rune but different name or meanings. Anglo Saxons did recreate the Ansuz rune but just putting it out there just because I'm putting the Elder Futhark runes doesn't equal to what that Anglo Saxons used.

ᚠ᛫ Feoh or Fehu - Cattle are compensation for everyone though each man shall greatly share his if he will be awarded honors from his Lord.

ᚢ ᛫ Ur or Uruz - Aurochs is brave and has horns above, this very firece animal fights with its horns, a great wanderer of the moors, it is a proud creature.

ᚦ ᛫ Thorn or Thuriaz - Thorn/Hawthorn is exceedingly sharp for every servant seizing it is evil, and it is extremely harsh to each man who rests among it.

ᚨ᛫ Os or Ansuz - The God is the creator of all language, wisdom's foundation and consolation of sages and everyman's joy and trust.

ᚱ ᛫ Rάd or Raidho - The Ride up to everyman's hall is comfortable and very fast for he who sits high on a mighty horse over the miles.

ᚲ ᛫ Cen or Kenaz - Torch/Pine is a tree known by all for its flame, shining and brilliant it often burns where people relax within.

ᚷ ᛫ Gyfu or Gebo - A Gift from other it is an honor and praise, a help and of worth and for sojourners everywhere a benefit and presence that is otherwise missing.

ᚹ ᛫ Wynn or Wunjo - A Joy possesses him who knows little want, illnesses, sorrows, and himself has prosperity and happiness and also a sufficient dwelling.

ᚺ ᛫ Hagal or Hagalaz - Hail is the whitest of seeds it's circling comes from the lofty sky, it tosses in the wind's shower, it then becomes water after words.

ᚾ ᛫ Nied or Nauthiz - Need is oppressive on the heart although it often befalls this affliction of men to help and to heal somewhat, if it is heard beforehand.

ᛁ ᛫ Is or Isa-Ice is extremely cold, very slippery, it glistens clear, like precious gems, a floor wrought by frost, fair thing seen.

ᛃ ᛫ Gear or Jera - Year is mankind's joy, when the God bequeaths, ruler of the sacred sky, the earth offers splendid crops for the wellborn and poor.

ᛇ ᛫ Éoh or Eihwaz - Yew is a rough tree on the outside, hard and secured in the earth, keeper of the fires, sustained by deep roots, it is a pleasure to have one one's land.

ᛈ ᛫ Peorth or Pertho - Gaming is always sport and laughter where boastful, they sit to make war in the banquet hall cheerfully together.

ᛉ ᛫ Eolk or Algiz - Elk-sledge is native to the marsh, it grows in the water, it can wound cruelly, the blood of any man burns who in anyway seizes it.

ᛋ ᛫ Sigel or Sowelio - The Sun for sailors is always hoped for when they depart over the fishes' bath, until their ship carries them to land.

ᛏ ᛫ Tir or Tiewaz - The North Star is one signal, it holds faith well with nobles, it is always on track, throughout night's darkness it never deceives.

ᛒ ᛫ Beroc or Berkana - Birch is without fruit it bears even so, it bears shoots instead of fruit, its branches are beautiful, high in the treetops decorated attractively, laden with foliage, lofty passage.

ᛖ ᛫ Eh or Ehwaz - Horse is for lords the joy of the aristocracy, horse hooves boastful, where around the hero, prosperous in respect to horses, it exchanges discourse, and its restlessness is ever to help.

ᛗ ᛫ Mann or Mannaz - Person with joy is beloved of his kin, even though each one depart away for moreover the lord wills his fate, the destitute flesh be delivered to the earth.

ᛚ ᛫ Lagu or Laguz - Water seems of endless length to people, if they must venture on unstable ships, and the sea waves terrify them exceedingly, and the ship does not heed its reins.

ᛜ ᛫ Ing or Ingwaz - Lord Ing was first seen among the east Danes it is said, until he later went back over the sea, his chariot following after, thus the brave men named that hero.

ᛞ ᛫ Daeg or Dagaz - Day is the god's ambassador beloved of men, the great god's light, Mirth and also hope, prosperous and poor, all enjoying it.

ᛟ ᛫ Ethel or Othila - Home is very dear to all people if there they have the opportunity to for justice and honesty while enjoying prosperity in the dwelling most often.

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

Additional runes to the Elder Futhark set

Ac - Oak is on Earth for the children of men, meat-animal's fodder it travels often over the gannet's bath, the sea tests whether the oak possesses noble truth. (The rune looks like F but the small arm on top is hooked like a check mark or small v and the bottom one is slanted like Ansuz.)

Aesc - Ash Tree, is lofty, glorified by men stiff in its trunk, it holds its position exactly, although it fights against many men. (I explained at top, this rune looks exactly like the Elder Futhark Ansuz - ᚨ)

Yr - Bow is for noble men and warriors everywhere joy and a more of distinction upon a fair horse, steadfast on its course , a part of the war gear. (This Rune is ᚢ but with a small line in between the legs)

Ior - Beaver is a river fish, and although he resides there, he forages there on land he had a fair dwelling, water surrounding that place he joy fully holds dear. (This rune is a straight line vertically with a X in the middle of the line)

Ear - The Ground is loathsome to all men, yet certainly the body will e set upon there, the corpse grows old, the soil accepts its pale bed-fellow, it leaves fall, pleasure depart, men cease to be. (This rune looks like ᛏ but the two small arms are hooked that look like small Vs or check marks)

And that’s it! I do recommend reading other translations and the other rune poem, at times different translations can be worded much better and help to understand a lot better. If you don’t really like the rune poem on this blog there’s nothing wrong either checking out Norwegian or Icelandic rune poems and to see if it will help you better!

#paganism #norse witch #norse paganism #norse pagan #norse runes #anglo saxon paganism #witchcraft #traditional witchcraft

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