#LOL the story of their meeting is not Canon I just thought it would be funny to be like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

space-blue · 4 months ago

Text

Fixing Vander and Silco's story (a bit)

Using canon events! Sadly we can't actually fix it, but I hope this makes it a little better. I make my own edit proposal at the end that changes the bar scene to include Felicia without issues.

They meet in the mines, and meet Felicia and her partner there too. They end up together somehow (I think we can put the brotherly allegations to rest now, eh?) and one of them (or both) inherit/buy a bar.

Although Vander is the barman, there is no indication Silco doesn't own or co-own the place. After all he comes to take it eventually as his own, and he's still not bartending. That's just not his gig.

It's implied that Vander and Silco made it, as in, got away from the mines, while Felicia clearly didn't, as she comes home to both her daughters with mining gear and gloves.

So despite Vander and Silco building the Lanes together, the mines aren't closed, and the work "isn't done".

Felicia says they've done it, and Vander is happy to celebrate their success. Meanwhile, Silco has his "NoZ" Nation of Zaun book in which he's scribbling, still planning.

Vander's first memory that Viktor sees even has Silco holding that book.

Later, in season 1 episode 3, we see that Vander tells Silco that he had Vander's respect, the Lanes' respect, but it "was never enough".

There's also this fakeout moment in the memory at the bar, where Vander says they're done, and Silco replies with "You're gravely mistaken". And I thought he was going to go all zealous and say "We'll only be done when we have the Nation of Zaun", but no, he claims he's Bozo 1.

And imo, he is probably right. He calls out Vander in act 1 saying "I trusted you and you betrayed me", and Vander does not contest this. It makes the most in character sense as well that Silco is the brains of the operation while Vander is the brawn.

And we can conclude that Silco's goals were always "bigger" and that the Lanes were indeed not enough.

Years pass, during which we can only assume Silco keeps building his Nation of Zaun and Vander happily bartends and manages the Lanes with Silco. Felicia keeps working the mines and raises Vi, then Powder.

Vi is at least 11, if not more, by the time she's on the bridge. This is just consistent with her model, but also to make her 18+ by the time of act 2.

It's a long ass time for Vander and Silco to be running a bar and the Lanes together. Even assuming Vi is more 8 or 9yo, Vander and Silco spend all that time being together.

Sadly, their models aren't aged very well.

We are also forced here to make some unfortunate assumptions.

It's not a problem, IMO, for Silco to know Felicia and be close to her. It's a problem for him to not be close to Vi and Powder too. Close enough to recognise them at least.

It's easy to say, "Well, Felicia went back to the mines and raised her kids and wasn't super involved with Vander and Silco, who lived much higher up in their bar." Adult friendships and all that.

IT MAKES SENSE, but then it makes zero sense that Vander would murder his life's partner, a man he's been with 10 years at MINIMUM (fuck knows how long they were together while in the mines), over the death of a friend in a revolt they allegedly BOTH participated in.

The memories also imply that Silco is responsible somehow, for throwing a molotov. And yet the molotov doesn't kill the enforcer.

But Vander is shown in the opening of Act 1 season 1 pummeling one to death himself, long after the rest of the revolt has died down. That enforcer wasn't getting back up lol

So whatever we pick, because the writers made Felicia and Silco close, they create a plot hole either way.

Either Vander is whacko and murders his husband over a dead friend at a revolt he set up (since he repeatedly apologises for what he did, and claims he "lost his head after she died" and had that guilt on his hands too)

Or Silco and Vi and Powder spend ALL of season 1 acting like they don't know each other at all. Then Silco takes in Powder and somehow never comments on the fact he was friends with her mom.

Everything being triggered by Felicia's death also means that Vander's emotional thematic moment dropping the gauntlets after seeing what his violence led to is then followed up by a horrible attempted murder on the love of his life, which is... you know. Bad writing.

So I propose that they indeed drift apart. Silco knows of Felicia's kids, and they hangout a bit, but they aren't that close. She's busy mining and being a mom, and Silco is busy making the safe Zaun he promised to deliver.

The creation of that Zaun leads them to act out revolts and uprisings. Vander is happy to follow. He's angry, like he tells Vi. And this manifests in violence. Silco points his violence. It's how they create the Lanes and the moniker of Hound of the Underground. A hound usually has a master, after all.

Vander is Silco's hound, and I think, in Vander's mind this absolves him of some of the consequences of his actions.

So when his friend dies on the Bridge, even if they haven't been that close in a while, well, it's easy to put the blame on Silco.

Since we're following the new canon timeline... we'll have to have him go back with the girls, ready to turn a new leaf.

I think the best way here is to have him either dropping them at an orphanage, or back at their home (trusting Vi to look after Powder for a while) or with friends.

That way, Vi and Powder aren't immediately in Silco's legs back at the drop.

Then Vander and Silco take part in the "clean up" at the bridge. They go get bodies, and since they have no real estate in the fissures, they commit them to the sea (we have canon monsters in there, so I'm sure it all gets gobbled up).

That way, we explain why Vander is weirdly shaved, and why Silco and him are at in the Pilt: they just commited the bodies of the fallen to the waters.

There may have been many others, but Silco and Vander stay there, in the shallows, as they talk.

Vander is done. He doesn't want more of this. He thinks Silco went too far with pushing this one to the bridge. Piltover got defensive and they lost too many people.

Silco doesn't get it. Where he goes, so does Vander, but Vander is his own man, he decided to come too, and he killed enforcers too. Felicia's death is tragic, but as he later will tell Renni about the death of her son: at least she died fighting for the cause, and not some petty infighting, or worse, an accident at the shitty mines.

Vander, the Hound, is not only mad with grief, he refuses to carry the blame of his own actions. It's a character flaw and that's fine! The angry man channels that anger with violence, the only way he knows how.

Silco is probably shocked, and may not say the right things to calm Vander down.

Silco is under the assumption that Vander BELIEVES IN HIS DREAM. That he's a true believer of the Nation of Zaun, like Sevika turns out to be. A true believer would understand sacrifice. A true believer would understand too, that stopping now, after Felicia's death, would make THAT VERY DEATH POINTLESS.

So maybe he screams at Vander! What do you MEAN abandoning the fight? What do you mean, being content with the Lanes? How dare you? You'd make her sacrifice meaningless! You'd make Felicia die a pointless death!

And Vander would bellow that it's over. No more death. No more bloodshed. He rescued her kids from that bridge, and they don't deserve to die too, they don't deserve to see more death.

And Silco screams back that it's their job to create Zaun so these children won't have to see more death. Vander is just delaying the struggle.

And then, perhaps, Silco may even mock him. Say that Vander can't change like that. That he's not that sort of person, to just hang up his gauntlets and go peaceful. That Felicia's blood is on his hands too, and that the only way out is through more blood, more sacrifice.

It would be a horrible point to make, if then Vander truly loses it. Silco runs, and Vander's hound comes out, just grabbing Silco and trying to drown him.

It would be poetic, because then Vander goes home in shame. Gets his arm patched up, hides the scar under a brace, collects the kids and tries to pretend like HE CAN BE THAT MAN. Even though he surrendered his gauntlets and metaphorical violence, and tries to lean into the bartender chill persona, there's what he did to Silco.

And later he'll tell Vander "I'll show you what you really are". Because Silco knows that Vander's promises of being a peaceful good dad are flimsy at best.

Anyway, Vander goes home, and eventually the impact of what he's done really hits him. He's single now, and with kids, and the Lanes to run, and nobody knows where Silco is.

Vander slowly realises Silco was right about one thing. Just because Vander followed, doesn't mean he wasn't behind that event on the bridge. Becoming the solo leader of the Lanes has to have hammered that home for him. Suddenly so much responsibility thrust on him.

So Felicia's death was on him too, and his actions against Silco are the proof that he is indeed the sort of man Silco said he was. At any rate, surrendering violence as his first reaction to any trigger will take a lot of work.

He goes to their old hideout and leaves a letter for Silco.

In the happy AU, Silco finds it, and returns to Vander BEFORE ever meeting Singed. There is no glowing eye, no shimmer, and no cannery.

In our AU, Silco never finds the letter. He finds Singed instead. Starts helping him develop shimmer.

I've been thinking that since the goal of shimmer is a form of "keeping alive" and also "bringing back to life", then it's possible that Silco's glowing eye is a byproduct of shimmer experimentation.

And that the only way to keep it alive and function is more shimmer injections. It would otherwise be grey and dead like in the Nice AU.

So Singed is also a factor here. He gives our Silco a real way to deal scary violence to Piltover. And this changes our Silco. He's more radicalised, and more opposed to Vander, having discovered that Vander works with Grayson to keep Zaun under Piltover's boot (basically making sure the boot stays, but doesn't press down too hard).

Vander is, as always, the enforcer of the status quo.

And though this works for them timeline wise, it sadly doesn't change the fact that Silco should know who Vander's kids are.

Vi and Jinx can be excused for not recognising him, what with him being one of their mom's adult friends, and scarred. But Silco doesn't have that luxury. His great friend Felicia had two very distinctive kids, ONE OF WHICH VANDER FUCKING NAMED! And her death triggered his husband so badly he tried to kill Silco over it. If anything, Silco would be hyper-aware of Felicia's kids.

And no amount of alternate fix-its changes that. It's permanent damage to season 1's Silco.

I feel like we can fix Vander's side of things by inventing an entire scene at the Pilt as I did above, but we can't fix 10 years of knowing your friend's kids and then a lifetime of acting like you don't know them.

I think it also cheapens the found family aspect of both Vander and Silco's adoption. You're left to wonder if they took in the girls only because they were friends with the mom.

Silco's adoption of Jinx and co-dependence with her was great because it spoke of the similar shape of their traumas, and how unexpected their bond seemed.

But now it's redolent of friendly obligation. And lies.

How would I fix it by keeping Felicia in the picture?

I would fully remove Felicia's one-on-one with the boys. That night at the bar? It's a party. Young Sevika is here too!

Felicia and many others are there, all congratulating Vander and Silco over the creation of the Lanes. Eventually Silco tires of the social niceties and goes to write in his notebook at the bar. Or maybe there's a montage of the night as the crowds thin.

In the end, Silco is writing, and Vander is still socialising. He talks to 3 people--Felicia, her husband, and a random person. They thank him for all his work. They've done it! And the conditions in the mines are so much better now thanks to XYZ!

Vander is beaming, he's just so pleased. It's clear for him this is the end goal. Felicia asks him, pointing to Silco, if he's okay.

Vander laughs, says Silco is fine, but he's already got his head back in the clouds. You see, Silco doesn't just want the Lanes, he dreams of a free Nation of Zaun.

The other 2 laugh, but Felicia sobers up. She rubs her belly, thoughtful. Then she says "Sounds like a dream worth fighting for."

I don't think she even needs to say anything about being pregnant, but she could go on with something like "I'm expecting. A girl, I think. I know. And I would love if she could grow in a safe city. I'm so scared she'll have to live the way I did, growing up.'

And Vander smiles sadly and tells her, 'We've gotten this far, and we're not going back. We'll make Zaun safe for your kiddo, I promise you that.'

And that's it.

Vander knows OF Felicia. She is a community member. He knows her enough, maybe from Lanes meetings, that eventually he can recognise her children. But they're not friends, and SILCO definitely isn't friends.

And the disagreement after the bridge is fully about where to go from then on, and Vander deciding he wants to run the Lanes and keep them safe, that what they have now is good enough, while Silco wants "more".

That disagreement can turn nasty, and the fact Vander tried to drown Silco becomes a statement about how violent and temperamental he is as "The Hound of the Underground". Something he'll regret soon enough and spend the next few years working hard to try and change.

What do you think?

#vander #Silco #arcane #arcane meta #zaundads #vanco #vi arcane #powder arcane #jinx #felicia arcane #zaun #arcane 2 #arcane s2 #arcane spoilers #arcane silco #arcane vander #long post #meta

1K notes · View notes

sugarcoated-lame · 2 years ago

Text

Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

read part two here

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family.

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy.

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things.

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?”

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice.

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner.

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar.

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ.

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots?

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you.

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you.

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why.

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor.

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony.

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception.

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too.

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated.

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you.

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed.

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered.

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff.

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot.

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question.

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people.

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It��s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy.

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress.

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced.

God, he wants to kiss you.

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention.

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you.

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look.

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them.

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride.

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.”

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom.

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne.

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.”

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights.

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back.

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you.

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room.

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling.

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face.

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again.

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him.

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers.

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile.

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him.

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine.

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between.

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him.

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust.

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high.

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better.

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense.

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.”

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute.

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room.

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip.

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket.

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom.

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom.

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming.

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake.

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely.

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words.

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you.

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute.

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint.

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

Thank you for reading! x

Part two

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x female reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x you #glen powell #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin x y/n #jake x lil bradshaw #my writing

4K notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month ago

Note

Now that all the main cast's unique magic has been shown, can you make a ranking on your favorite unique magic from most to least favorite? Would be favorite unique magic from each dorm but felt some feels unfair especially Ignihyde when Ortho is confirm unable to have his own. You can include the other characters like Chenya, Rollo, Skully, and Fellow.

Originally I was gonna ask about your top favorite dreams, overblot boys' dream outfit, and chapter 7 SSRs (excluding the main Diasomonia uniforms), but there is chance there will be more dreams in upcoming chapter since some people theorize that we might see both Silver's and Malleus's now that Ace's UM is shown. Even a possibility of Silver having an SSR card. So I will be holding this question once chapter 7 is over.

[For a complete compilation of known unique magic (including name, incantation, first use, effects, and limitations), check out this post!]

To briefly explain what is mentioned in the second ask and the second paragraph of first ask, some fans theorize that with Ace’s new UM (which seemingly allows him to borrow, copy, or swap UM with a target?), he could use Malleus’s magic against him or on other characters too. This could potentially allow us to see his dream and/or Silver’s. As far as I could tell it though, there doesn’t seem to be a purpose for doing this provided by theorists yet.

Aaand with that aside, here’s my personal ranking of the UMs, with explanations for each below. It’s not numerical, but rather tiers. This is primarily based on how practical or fun I think the UMs would be to my daily life, NOT based on power level or some other metric.

“Useful overall”

Snake Whisper/Snake Charmer — At the risk of sounding slightly unhinged, this would make life in general easier. Shockingly few drawbacks or limitations too. (Big surprise, the person who says they are similar to Jamil puts Jamil’s UM as at the top…)

I See You/Arrow Afar — As someone that easily gets lost while traveling and easily loses things, this UM sounds like a godsend. Just tag whatever you want to locate and you’re good to go!

Far Cry Cradle — The idea of experiencing stories by touching a random object is so fascinating. Endless entertainment but could also help with answering questions. Bonus: reminds me of the Dimensional Scream from the Pokémon Mystery Dungeon Explorers games.

“Fun to experiment with”

Doodle Suit/Paint the Roses — The simple act of being able to change the smell, taste, or texture of something would make dietary restrictions so much easier to deal with. Other applications would be nice for comfort too, like adjusting the perception of brightness or loudness just for yourself in a group setting like a movie or concert. (There’s some ominous fan works and theories about Trey being able to use his UM to overwrite others’ emotions or thoughts too, but I’m only sticking to what he is shown to be capable of in canon.)

Split Card — I’d wanna see how many clones can be made at once and what each is physically and mentally capable of. (We already know the magical power of the original and the clones goes down, so what about other parameters?) Useful for multitasking.

Joker Snatch — It's basically the same has having multiple UMs. Would fuck around and find out what this sucker is capable of. :9

Fairest One of All — Such a flexible and customizable UM, honestly. You can basically set whatever conditions you like, just be careful about the wording because the curses get pretty locked in.

Meet in a Dream — The idea of hopping around dreams and seeing what weird shit goes on in people's heads sounds so fun! Then you can embarrass them about it in the waking world :>

Not All My Head —Ultimate stealth... You can bypass into some of the most secure places in the world just for the lols 🤣 or, y'know... sneak into the kitchen to steal some snacks or something.

“Messing with the forces of nature because fuck you, that’s why”

King’s Roar — Could be used for a fight, but also to clear an area. What's that? Destruction of nature/property? Potential for murder? IT'S OKAY, JUST BREATHE IN THE SAND PARTICLES FLUTTERING IN THE BREEZE AND DON'T CHOKE :))

Oasis Maker — Need clean water to drink? BOOM. Want to water your garden? BOOM. Making a random swimming pool? BOOM. Maximum output for minimum effort.

Fae (of) Maleficence — You become a literal god of time and space. Scary amount of potential for control.

“The trail mix where I pick out the bits I like and leave the gross stuff in there”

Laugh with Me — Not really useful unless for small pranks or you + the target are in a convenient location already (since you'd have to take steps forward to get the target to do the same).

Sleep Kiss/Crimson Slumber — Can be protective (but can't seem to be cast on the self, only on others). Also useful to put people to sleep. Would like to use to send my pet or loud neighbors to sleep early instead of staying up late and bothering me :v

Living Bolt — Very good for an extra boost of speed and/or power if in a rush or in a desperate situation. Unfortunately comes with electrical side effects so that's... not optimal.

Scary Night — Basically Off with your Head but also limits your movement, so I consider it an upgrade with applications besides just combat. Wonder what happens if you cook with those pumpkin’d people or smash the pumpkin on the ground… Is that instadeath? Gruesome to think about, but unsure of since we see so little of the UM in action.

“Requires rizz”

It’s a Deal and Life is Fun — Same reasoning for both; takes a certain amount of charisma to pull these UMs off and if you lack that then this magic sucks. Would be useful if you did have these characters’ sway though.

“Fistfighting central”

Off with your Head — Could shut down a hostile party’s magic, but if you’re not as trigger happy as Riddle is then how often would you realistically use this? And if the target has no magic then this basically does nothing.

Bet the Limit/Double Down — Assuming you’re not already dead from the blows you’ve already eaten and/or you can aim properly and get that shot in before you wipe??? Okay, sure 😂

Bind the Heart — Only deflects magical blows. Physical hits will still pass. Would get my ass beat anyway.

Dark Fire — Primarily useful only for combat, which most people don’t get up to on a regular basis. Must be a true hater or be surrounded by true haters to get the most power out of this. What happens if everyone holds hands and sings a song at you? Do you just pathetically whimper and die out in a pile of ashes/j

“Not a furry, don’t @ me”

Unleash (the) Beast — The idea of a big furry... creature... charging at me makes me want to run and hide 🤢 Could have its use for strength and speed, but… I still don’t want a massive dog around.

“This could have been an email”

Shock the Heart — Nothing a reasonable amount of blackmail research cannot do. Has so many limitations (eye contact, only one use per person, target may resist/refuse anyway, etc.) you may as well need a PhD in order to manufacture plans to effectively use this UM.

“So niche it has like no practical application”

Gate to (the) Underworld — Y-You just… open and close a door to a pit of Phantoms. Discounting opening the pit to retrieve Phantoms to test or experiment on, why would you not just keep this closed all the time and just never use this UM 💀

153 notes · View notes

andhumanslovedstories · 4 months ago

Text

chapter eleven of what feels like the most soap opera ass fic I've ever written and then just a bunch of thoughts about writing it, which contains vague spoilers for my plans:

The inception of the fic basically went like this:

haha lol i'd be fun if sqq got real mad at the state of education

what would need to happen in this fic that doesn't happen in canon to motivate him to do something about it

oh shit he didn't unlock OOC so he has to figure out how to be his coddling indulgent self (which he's in denial about) while also being shen jiu

But the thing that really made the story get so much bigger in scope was when I was reading a fic with yqy coming clean to sj, and sj being like, "GASP. I forgive you." And I was "I simply do not believe that this is how it would happen." And I would have moved on with my life, but then I thought, "but like how would it happen." And more importantly, how could this conversation happen within the canon timeline but still involve Shen Jiu, the person this information affects.

The OOC idea and the need for Shen Jiu to be present in this fight scene came together to be like "what if sqq got sj's memories so he could rules-lawyer his characterization more accurately, and ends up being furious on sj's behalf?"

(This, btw, is why I knew I had to get much fonder of YQY and get a much better understanding of his character. When a pillar of your fic idea is a character getting ripped into for his choices, it is sooooooo easy to for it to come off as the author yelling their personal opinions or for it to be completely flat character bashing. Neither are interesting to read or write! Hence the crash-course in YQY appreciation, so now he gets his own emotional arc too. Everyone gets a goddamn plotline.)

Meanwhile I was also thinking about the implications of downloading another person's life into your head. If you have their memories and their body, are you them? What makes you not them? I didn't know! I sort of just kept writing and posting with the assumption that I'd figure something out, which I've finally nailed down btw. That's a relief! Also kinda the fun of WIPs where you're building the railroad track as you're on the train. I end up fanficing my own fanfic. Once stuff is posted, that's the canon, and I look at it and think, "if this was a book I was reading, what is the way I would extrapolate what's there to make a new but coherent story?"

That's why my outline becomes pretty useless after a while. The big picture doesn't change too much--I know roughly where all the major characters are going to be emotionally by the end of the story--but I discover the path I'm going to take there. Which usually means adding stuff. Liu Qingge wasn't going to get a POV, and now every chapter I'm like "fuck am I building a throuple". Ming Fan will have waaaay more a story line than I originally conceived. Early on, I was like "eh I'm not going to go too far into the brothel stuff," and can you guess what is going to be coming up prominently in the next few chapters? God help me.

Actually, there's only one major part of the outline that I cut: Shang Qinghua. He was originally very prominent early on, but turns out having the literal Word of God in a story about slowly discovering backstory is difficult to reconcile. So sadly, he doesn't get a real role. If you're curious, the original plan for him was that SQQ would realize he's a transmigrator much earlier in the canon, but the System would be like [shen jiu would not tell shang qinghua he is a transmigrator. ooc] which would lead to this series of SQQ trying to figure out how he can communicate around this. SQQ at a peak meeting being like, "do you think these DEMONS are PROUD of having made their WAY to us IMMORTALS?" while SQH is like, "AM I HAVING A STROKE?"

What's some other stuff about this fic? I've got a lot of thoughts bottled up, in part because I'm kinda snobby tbh in how I post. I'm like "*pushes glasses up my nose* the author's takes on the story should not be unavoidably present when reading the text" so I don't like to use ao3's author's notes. It's ridiculous and not a standard I hold anyone else too, but whenever I find myself wanting to address something in the notes, I know I must feel insecure about that part of the story. So either fix it or don't draw attention to it. But this is fine, you have to come here for this. This is DVD commentary.

My favorite part of writing this fic has been balancing Shen Jiu's character. As I'm fleshing out his sad backstory, I've been wary of essentially woobifying him. Reducing him to just someone who greatly suffered is so boring and flat. He NEEDS to suck. Or more accurately, he needs to be a very imperfect victim. Exasperating at his mildest, despicable at his worst. (Truthfully, I do think I can and should make him worse. Luckily this story is nothing but flashbacks to him at his worst so there's plenty of opportunities.)

This whole mental breakdown section has been an interesting balancing act because it's explicitly about how bad Shen Jiu's life was and now how bad Shen Qingqiu's is. It's the point at which I had to decide how torturous his time at the Qiu manor had been (me and Shen Qingqiu really discovered that together). On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the absolute worst saddest brutalist ideas I had for this era in his life, I'd say I settled on about a 7. Most of it is backstage in my head, but once I locked that down, I could start figuring out how much was bleeding through.

Anyway, it's been fun writing the angstfest of the last few chapters, but oh my god am I ready for a tone shift. There's usually jokes in my works, even the saddest bits, but jokes relieve tension which is the opposite of what I was going for. I didn't want any humor in the YQY conversation, then you have to keep not joking for a while to get the point across. There's still a lot of planned emotional shit, but I'm happy to not be wallowing for a while.

AND GOD AS MY WITNESS THIS STORY WILL NOT BE LONGER THAN 20 CHAPTERS. MAYBE IT'LL EVEN BE LESS!! IT IS DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO BE A WHOLE CANON REWRITE. PROBABLY!! IF TIANLANG JUN HAS ANY SIGNIFICANT SCREEN TIME, PLEASE KNOW THAT I HAVE FAILED.

#b.#svsss #my fic #this is less a promo post and more something i'm gonna link to but uh. read my fic! if you want! i'm not your boss #there's also one more foundational idea for the fic that has been a fixed point for me but it has not come up yet

236 notes · View notes

deadpcnned · 3 months ago

Text

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter one

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): none, just angst

author's note: first chapter! i didn't expect it all to be in jj's pov lol. PLEASE read the author's note here, but i want to reiterate that this fic is canon-compliant up until season 4, ep. 5. for example, in this chapter we learn there are still a few days before the court hearing regarding the maybank property. this story will not be canon-compliant from this chapter onwards!

join the taglist | series masterlist

next chapter

JJ can feel the air in his lungs running out, and the pressure from the wind and rain around him only speeds up the process. He’ll have to stop running soon; his endurance can only last so long, but until then, he needs to run. Run away from the lighthouse that Luke is maybe still shouting from. Run away from the lies. Run away from his remaining hope for the man who raised him — if you can call it that.

JJ’s on autopilot, not having to think about where he’ll go. He’s always known where his feet take him in these moments of desperation. The place has changed, ironically from the Chateau to the place he used to run from, but the reason has stayed the same. The people have stayed the same. Still, he can’t think straight. The pinching feeling in his chest is growing, and he knows what’s next. The pinch will get tighter until it feels like his weight has collapsed on itself, landing right on his weak heart. Usually, the pressure builds quickly. Right now, though, it’s a slow build. Those are always the worst. Sometimes, when the build is slow and sneaky, the pain doesn’t go away until the next day.

He can’t let it stop him right now, though. Not until he’s back at the shop with the other Pogues. It’s probably not much longer before he’ll reach the boat that will take him where he wants to be, needs to be. It doesn’t ease the pressure in his chest, but it clears his mind a bit. It lets him think just a little longer about what’s next. He’ll drive it as quickly as he can and head straight to the Pogues, then tell them what happened. They’ll help him. He knows they will.

As he steps onto the boat and starts to undock, the rain still falling steadily, he thinks of what the Pogues are probably doing right now. Wait. No, no, no.

They’re not home, not all of them, at least. The Pogues had gone to follow the clues left behind regarding Blackbeard’s treasure, but Kiara was home. She was there alone, waiting just for him, to make sure he didn’t get in any trouble he couldn’t get out of. That should’ve been enough. Knowing Kiara would be there should’ve made his path clearer, like the break of dawn in the dark, rainy night surrounding him. Yet, it is as if his hands move without permission, turning him away from his intended path. JJ turns the boat around, buying himself time before he eventually makes it back to the surf shop. For now, he just needed to think. The solitude would do him some good, let him think about the lies Luke had just tried to sell him. JJ could handle this.

He hadn’t expected to return the next day, but whenever JJ thought he was closer to driving the boat home, he’d start to reel again. He didn’t want to go back to the Pogues at the height of his emotional turmoil, especially when what Luke said was no doubt bullshit. His friends don’t have parents who are in the running for some Parent of the Year award — well, maybe Pope— but they also don’t have Luke Maybank as a parent. Their parents could be murderers and treasure hunt junkies, but they loved their children. The worst of them still took his last breaths for his daughter. Forget loving him; Luke’s only thoughts regarding JJ were about how he could get his next crash gab. He was willing to give away his title as JJ’s dad at the first opportunity of something better. It’s embarrassing– humiliating to let them see just how unloved he is by his father.

“JJ, where have you been?” JJ’s eyes meet Kiara’s as she stands up from where she is crouching in her garden. JJ looks away, training his gaze on the crops surrounding them. He can still remember how excited Kie was when she started the garden. She had spent an entire smoke sesh sprouting predictions about how far each crop would come within a three-year timeline. Now, he doesn’t even know if she’d be able to see the results of her hard work or if some Kooks would bulldoze the whole thing in a few weeks. JJ cringes, looking back to Kie. It’s easier to look at her than their withering dreams.

“Long story,” He mumbles. “Where are the others?”

“Almost here, why? What happened?” JJ suppresses his groan at her questioning. He knew his lies never got past her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try.

“Nothing, Kie,” His insistence is met with a deadpan look.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“It…” JJ runs his hand through his hair, jaw clenching. This is the part of the conversation he was dreading most, admitting that Luke was back and he never even told him. Somehow, the fact that Luke didn’t find it worth telling JJ he was back on the island was worse than the lies he had spun. “Doesn’t matter. It’s just my dad.” Dad.

“Oh shit. He’s back?”

“Yep,” JJ does his best to hide how badly this affects him. Whether it’s believable or not, he doesn’t know. “He’s been holding up at Barracuda Mike’s, I guess.”

“JJ…”

“Don’t,” JJ says, putting a hand up. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

JJ lets the silence stretch between them, debating his next words. How can he say this without sounding like he’s gone too far off the rails this time?

“He…uh…” Kie moves closer, watching her step as she approaches JJ.

“Yeah?”

“He… told me he wasn’t my real dad,” Kiara looks at JJ for a second, which feels much too long before she smirks at him.

“You wish,” It does feel like a cruel joke, but even if it’s a lie, Luke wasn’t trying to be humorous.

“Kie, it wasn’t a joke. Like, he was being…I don’t know what he was being, but,” JJ trails off, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out the crumpled letter he has been turning over in his hands every couple of hours since he received it.

“I got this,” JJ mumbles, waving the letter in his trembling hands. Unfolding the letter haphazardly, JJ extends it for Kiara to take. Kiara wipes her hands against her shorts again before taking the letter.

The sound of grass crunching underfoot pulls both their gazes toward an approaching figure. You step into view, your expression calm but with the slightest arch of a brow. You hold an apple in one hand, idly passing it to the other.

“What’s that?” You ask, your gaze trained on the letter Kie has yet to read. JJ reaches out and snatches the letter back from Kie’s hands, stuffing it in his pocket again.

“Nothin’,” JJ replies, his tone clipped. Your gaze lingers on JJ’s pocket as you take a bite of your apple. In response, you simply hum and let your gaze trail back to JJ’s. Looking between the two girls, JJ searches for a way to avoid any more discussion. “You two didn’t go with the others?” He directs the question to Kiara even though he knows she stayed behind.

“Kie said she was gonna wait for you, so I decided to stay back with her. In case she needed backup,” You shrug.

“Backup for sitting in a garden?”

“Backup for whatever trouble you’d inevitably bring back. Guess I called that one.” You nod your head at JJ’s pocket, your tone sharp but not necessarily unkind. Still, it’s a sharp contrast to the usual warmth you show the others. JJ feels that familiar itch of irritation crawl up his spine, igniting something raw within him. It always seems to happen when you are around him lately, like you merely exist to remind him of every single one of his shortcomings.

“You figure out whatever was more important than helping us?” you add.

Two years ago, JJ couldn’t have imagined he’d feel this way about you. This tension hadn’t always existed between the two of you, not until a few months ago. You had been with Cleo and their ship captain, Terrance since you were 14, which meant that you’d been with Cleo when helping John B and Sarah try to retrieve the Royal Merchant gold in the Bahamas. When it came time to decide if their alliance would shift to something more, you’d turned to Cleo for guidance. It was Cleo who decided that you two would join the Pogues from that point onwards.

When you and Cleo had first joined them on Poguelandia, it had been a wonder how effortlessly you fit in with their unconventional family. You and JJ may not have had the same heartfelt bond that was cultivated over years of knowing one another, but you and he had shared many laughs, just the two of you. Those laughs didn’t feel like they meant much at the time, but he would find himself clinging to those memories like a lifeline– a reminder that you didn’t always look at him with such disfavor.

JJ always thought you were funny in a way that went under the radar – a quiet, cutting kind of humor. You’d let out a sarcastic comment under your breath or give a look that had impeccable comedic timing. JJ was often the only person to catch these little moments, and in return, he’d get a small smirk. You were still funny, still fun, but it was like any time JJ was near you, you lost the ability to pretend you didn’t hate him. Your smile would disappear when he’d try to make a joke or suggest an activity for the group to do, albeit those suggestions were usually a little reckless. He understood that he wasn’t anyone’s favorite person right now, but he didn’t understand why it seemed like you had a personal grudge against him. Now, every look you give him feels like judgment he can’t escape, and every word seems calculated to remind him of how much he’s messed up. Can’t a man make a few mistakes without being chased with metaphorical pitchforks? Jesus.

Since Terrance’s death, you had been reeling. Your version of reeling, at least. Turning in on yourself, withdrawing from everyone else. You had seemed like a shell of the person he had come to know. At this moment, you seem to be doing better, and JJ is relieved to see it. It didn’t matter what was happening between them; if a Pogue was in pain, JJ felt it. But he isn’t relieved enough to be glad he is at the receiving end of the anger that had started to become far too familiar.

“Yeah,” JJ rolled his eyes, turning away from you. “Something like that.” If you were going to say something, you never got the chance because just then, the Pogues are pulling in with the Twinkie. JJ looks towards Kiara, widening his eyes as if to say ‘Keep this a secret, please?” Kiara furrows her brows, clearly not receiving the message, and looks to you to see if you understand. JJ groans and looks back at you. Seeming to get the message, you snort and roll your eyes.

“Relax. I’m going,” You say before walking towards the other Pogues as they get out of the Twinkie.

“Can we, uh…not tell them,” JJ sighs, looking back to see if the Pogues would be able to hear him from where they are gathered. “I mean, I just don’t want them to know how far Luke would actually go. You know, to get some cash.” Kiara nods, giving him a small smile.

“Another one of our little secrets?” JJ smirks, nodding in agreement. He takes one more glance behind him before stepping closer to whisper his next words.

“A secret for the streets and a secret for the sheets,” JJ winks, causing Kiara to groan at the cliche and JJ to burst out laughing. Suddenly, a blur of blonde hair speeds past JJ and Kiara, knocking JJ’s shoulder as it goes.

“What’s wrong with Sarah?” JJ asks, turning to find Pope walking closer to him.

“Rat swarm,” Pope says, a dazed look in his eyes as he follows Sarah inside.

Rat swarm?

“The weirdest part is other people were looking for the same thing we were looking for,” Pope’s movements are animated and his voice passionate as he recalls what he and Sarah saw in the catacomb. JJ’s trying his best to push the past twenty-four hours out of his thoughts and focus on his friends, but he keeps catching himself thinking, ‘What next?’ on a never-ending loop.

“I hate that I missed that,” He hears Kie say, but he’s not sure what she’s referring to exactly. His absentmindedness is why he takes a minute too long to respond when John B directs a question to him.

“Where’d you ghost off to, big guy?” John B asks, his expression a mix between expectant and worried. JJ stands up from where he’s slumped against the railing, turning to look at Kiara to make sure she’s not about to give anything away. But as he turns to look at Kie, he catches you staring at him. You’ve been looking at him oddly for the past twenty minutes that you’ve all been gathered on the patio, but he figured you were just at your wit's ends with him again. Now, your expression is suddenly intensified, and you look at him like you know something. But that’s impossible.

Looking at you, he replies, “Oh, I was, uh… just trying to help out the team. Quick cash grab. Yeah.” His voice seems a bit lost as he explains, but he shrugs and clears his throat. “But the plan fell through ‘cause it was Barracuda Mike.”

“As much as I’d hate to hear JJ tell us that story,” He hears you cut in, not a trace of your previous insight left for anyone to see. “We need to talk about the zoning hearing. It’s in a few days.” Was your frustration real, or were you covering for him?

“Anyone got any ideas?” Cleo asks, walking to sit next to Pope.

“Oh, yeah, let me just study up on real estate–” Pope’s quip is silenced by a single look shot at him by Cleo. “Sorry.”

JJ hears you chuckle at that, and he smiles as he looks at you. You’re generous with your laughs as long as JJ isn’t involved, but they’re always genuine when you’re watching Cleo and Pope interact. He remembers you once told him something was healing about watching Cleo and Pope together, but he’d never gotten the chance to ask you what that meant.

“How about we call people,” John B suggests, ever the leader. “The whole island’s pissed about what they’ve been doing. We get everybody over there, pack the house, and rally the troops.”

“More the merrier,” JJ nods. “I could get the surf squad out there. From the beach.”

And just like that, the Pogues are all brainstorming how they can help and who they can call. JJ hears Kiara mention something about Rafe Cameron, but he still feels a swell of hope as he thinks about all the Pogues on the island showing up to fight for the shop. He’s mistrusting of hope because of what it inevitably leads to, but he always falls for it. That low thrum seems to course through his veins and grows with each passing moment. That feeling is like the antithesis of when he feels his heart pinch. It’s better than any drugs or alcohol that he usually uses as a mask for his darkest thoughts. It also has a worse crash down to reality than both combined.

Unfortunately, it seems he won’t be experiencing the full high of hope because as the group disperses to handle their individual tasks, the last person he’d expect to willingly talk to him is standing in front of him.

“Um, yes?” JJ tilts his head at you, who’s bouncing slightly on your feet. That’s odd. You're a very collected person, more in control of your emotions than the average person. You’re so much like Cleo in that way which makes sense considering the upbringing you’ve had. So, to see you in obvious distress about something is far from normal. “You okay?”

“Yeah…” You nod, but as JJ makes a move to sidestep you, you step backward, blocking his exit. “JJ, I made a mistake.” Okay… but why are you coming to him?

“What happened?” You lift your hand, which he didn’t notice you were holding behind your back until now, and reveal a crumpled piece of paper. A very familiar crumpled piece of paper. JJ’s hand flies to his left pocket where he thought Wes Genrette’s letter was safely tucked away.

“How…?”

“Are you really asking me that?” Your eyebrow arches because everyone knows you’re neck and neck with Cleo for best pickpocket. It’s almost funny, but really it’s not. JJ clenches his jaw, snatching the letter from you. He needs to leave.

“JJ, wait,” You block his exit again, and JJ huffs, taking multiple steps away from you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was personal.”

“You didn’t know a letter I clearly did not want you to read was personal? Really?” JJ’s just grateful that no one else is at the shop right now, and he can be as pissed as he wants. “How dare you take this from me?”

“I had to make sure.” JJ doesn’t have to ask you what you mean by that. You had to make sure it wasn’t something else he’d drop on all of your heads when they were already so far under the water.

“Huh,” JJ gives a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “You had to make sure I didn’t fuck up.” You look away, but you don’t attempt to convince him otherwise. You take a moment before straightening your posture and facing him head-on.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read it, and I should’ve trusted you enough to know what was worth sharing and what wasn’t.” He knows you mean it, that you truly are sorry.

“Whatever,” JJ never claimed to be a mature guy.

“Okay…”

“Alright.” JJ waits a minute, and when he hopes the conversation is finally over, he starts to leave. But what’d he say about hope? You inevitably crash down.

“For what it’s worth,” JJ sighs, looking over his shoulder at you. “I think you should talk to him.” When JJ doesn’t respond, you clarify, “To Groff.”

JJ turns towards you, a chill running down his spine. “You do?” JJ’s compass for good ideas is in dire need of calibration, but even he feels that is obviously not a good idea.

“Yeah. You deserve to know if he’s your… or if Genrette was off base.”

“I think we both know that he’s way off base.” JJ’s arms cross with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t suit him. “Why bother asking?”

You purse your lips in thought like you’re debating whether to say what she’s thinking. He’s not sure what you decide because all you say before patting him on the shoulder and leaving is:

“Maybe. But whatever you decide, don’t do it alone.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank series #obx x reader #outer banks x reader #marriage of convenience #sealed 𓂁 ☼♒︎

167 notes · View notes

meanbossart · 3 months ago

Note

wrt cannibalism ask: i wonder if drow has really met any druids other than halsin? regular non-evil druids do eco-terrorism, hunt/eat/wear animals, and admire nature's unflinching cycle of violence too. Especially when it comes to nature being a perfect self-sustaining machine -- i feel like drow just misunderstands what druid philosophy is like, because he has more in common with the average druid than he realises

(idk if you care haha i'm just the local druid enjoyer)

No no no, you are extremely correct LOL

DU drow's worldview was shaped by the loudest, simplest portion of the population. Progressive views and social tolerance are kind of wasted on someone whose entire spiel is running a murder cult, so he easily and readily absorbed and regurgitated every common stereotype and derogatory joke. These were beliefs he found easy to buy into since he himself met very little kindness growing up and otherwise did not have very much exposure to people in general, even as an adult.

This is also why, in his canon reformed story-line, he so easily forms friendly acquaintanceships with people he meets regardless of race - because his assumptions are baseless, and he finds himself liking people of all kinds more than he thought he ever could (just look at how much he likes Jaheira), even if he keeps attributing that fondness to passing amusement or the odd exception to a rule

But, of course, for every person he gets along with there are two or four that he does not, for reasons that go from the justifiable to the totally imaginary. And whenever he meets someone he doesn't like, he immediately tries to tacking that onto a larger picture - their upbringing, their status, their friends, their expertise, their race. It's most likely that the handful of other druids he met were like Halsin, and if he ever met ones that saw eye-to-eye with him exactly he didn't give them the time of day. Not to mention he doesn't exactly give Halsin the time of day either, he just assumes his views are inferior to his own because of the man's nature, no pun intended.

I'm sure there are other things that he and pockets of druidic society would disagree strongly on, maybe they do still see things differently at their core for X or Y reason, but the main problem is definitely more so what was described above

#du drow #ask

139 notes · View notes

fathomlessgaze · 1 year ago

Text

perfect: zayne takes solace in hearing the heartbeats of those he loves deeply, which now includes one more little one

all fluff dw, husband!zayne/reader, ~.9k

warnings: reader is pregnant + called a mother, maybe not canon compliant but spoilers about mc's lore and allusions to zayne's lore (mainly myths story + maybe that dawnbreaker anecdote), zayne being a doctor + lots of heartbeat ments but i didnt research so maybe medically inaccurate, i believe in (future) girldad!zayne

an: i haven't written ff in 5ever + didn't edit on top of this so my apologies LOL im just really downbad for this ice man n wanted to write smthn rq

the soft, muffled clinking of keys and the creaking of the front door ruffle your slumber, your eyes slowly fluttering and flickering to the entryway where, sure enough, your husband steps inside. as he catches a glimpse of your, supposedly, sleeping form, a soft grin takes over his features and you think, maybe, you’d like to see where this goes.

he puts his bag down by the console table and takes off his shoes and you steady your breath, hoping he hasn’t noticed your lingering gaze under your lowered lids. fishing out his stethoscope, he hangs it around his neck as he takes cautious steps towards you, tip toeing to avoid all the creaky spots of the hardwood floors. he’s slow as he lowers himself on the couch, taking a moment to admire your curve of your jaw and the pout of your lips before putting in the earpieces.

zayne really was trying to be careful. he’d taken the metal between the fabric of his jacket, an attempt to reduce the jarring difference between its chill and your warmth, and moved as slowly and quietly as he could as he sat next to your snoozing figure on the sofa.

he watches carefully before his stethoscope finds your heart and its rhythmic beating fills his head. while it isn’t new news, the reminder that the organ that keeps you alive is perfectly well and healthy always brings ease to his own, this time given a physical form through a quiet exhale falling from his lips. clear and strong, not a single hint or vibration of the fragments that used to plague your being, your heart beats in time with his, he’d like to think. he allows his eyes to get misty, a faint smile and chuckle escaping as he tries to wipe the tear that threatens to fall with his free hand.

he stays like that for a minute more, simply relishing in how far you’ve both come. he remembers that surgery like it was yesterday, with how demanding and long it was, the aches settling in his muscles and bones by the end of it, only to jump head first into the delicate, intensive recovery you needed and he helped you through. and he would do it again and again, if that’s what it would take.

oh, how your fingers itch to brush the side of his face, cup his cheek in your palm and brush the stray hairs behind his ear. you can always tell when he starts reminiscing, how a moist sheen covers his beautiful eyes, furthering just how precious they are. but before you can move your arm from where it rests on your leg, he’s taking back the chest piece into his palms, holding it gingerly.

with one hand, he gently runs his fingers along your stomach until he finds a spot that causes his eyebrows to raise for the slightest moment, before the stoic expression returns to his face. the now cool metal in his other hand replaces his other hand, and, if it weren’t for the quirk of his lips, the soft smile and endeared look in his eyes, you would’ve been none the wiser to what had happened. he takes in the rhythmic beating in his ears. that’s…your baby, well and healthy and all he could ask for. a small sigh escapes his lips. he could stay here and listen to it for forever.

maybe you should cut the act.

fluttering your eyes open fully, you meet his tinted cheeks with a coy grin. “what’re you doing?” you ask, feigning innocence.

he brings his hand to his neck, scratching slightly at the pink-tinged skin before clearing his throat. “i–uh–i thought it would just be nice to see if we could hear her heartbeat yet.”

you lean forward, biting your lip to stop the knowing smile from escaping as you rest a hand on his shoulder and rub his cheek with your knuckles. “and do you?”

he nods, his rare beam coming to the surface before he kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger. “it’s beautiful and strong, just like her mother.”

before you can reply, he’s removing the ear pieces and fitting the stethoscope around your head, the quiet rhythm now taking over your senses. it’s gentle, delicate, but definitely there and determined.

“that’s our baby,” you murmur. suddenly emotion washes over you and you rub your eyes with your sleeves. “oh, zayne, it’s lovely.”

he bobs his head, taking one of your hands in his to hold the metal still against you so he can now use his free hands to brush the droplets from your cheeks and wrap you in his arms, snug in his embrace. with a gentle kiss to your temple, he lets out a shuddering breath, not daring to speak before he can stabilize the shakiness in his throat. “it’s perfect.”

“y’know,” you start, a small laugh escaping as you try to not cry into zayne’s button-up, “this is all i could’ve ever wanted, i think. if you told me when we met as kids this would be my life, i don’t think i would’ve believed you, but this is perfect, just as it is, you, me and her.”

he nuzzles his head against your neck, a quiet agreement taking form as a faint kiss on your shoulder. “this is the life i’ve waited years, forever, for.” he squeezes your frame slightly, holding your closer. “it’s so perfect.”

#i didnt proofread this at all i finished n was like okay thats a day LOL #zayne x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne fluff #zayne x you #zayne x y/n #love and deepspace fluff #l&ds x reader #mine

711 notes · View notes

bluesylveon2 · 2 years ago

Text

The Princess and the General

Summary: When Silver meets the princess from his father's old bedtime stories, except she is not a princess but his past lover.

Note: set in the same universe as the Leona royal au fic, fluff, slight angst, mentioned pregnancy, aged-up characters, Yuu/Reader is a fae, former General Lilia, and oc child. I saw the General Lilia card and it inspired this fic :)

Warning: not beta read, possible ooc characters, slight spoiler of past Lilia, and possibly inaccurate fae aging (just ignore canon if it was addressed in Book 7 lol).

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist: here

"Father, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

A male with long black hair and red streaks scooted closer to his son's bed, careful not to wake the green-haired boy sleeping next to him. His red eyes met big auroral ones.

The man chuckled at his son's cuteness and nodded. "Alright." He adjusted the boy so he could lay his head on the man's chest. "What kind of story do you want?"

"The one with the princess."

The man's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly cleared his throat. "You always ask for that one. It has a sad moment too."

The boy smiled. His innocent eyes sparkled. "I like the ending."

The man sighed and nodded. "Alright. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was so beautiful that it felt like the world around her would stop to stare at her when she passed by. She was very kind and loving. Everyone in the village loved her." The man felt a lump in his throat, but Silver's innocent eyes continued staring at him. "One day, she met an injured and cold-hearted knight. So, being the kind princess she was, nursed him back to health. The princess eventually grew close to the knight that she fell in love with him."

The boy began to feel sleep overcome him, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the man's voice, beginning to choke. Despite this, he continued the story and concealed his aching heart for his son's sake.

"But the knight did not feel the same way. He was cruel and only cared about returning back to the war. So he left once he felt better, leaving the princess heartbroken without saying goodbye. The princess thought all was lost until one day, while wandering around the woods around her castle, she discovered a small baby with golden hair. She felt sorry for the baby, so she adopted him and named him Aurum. The princess gave the baby all the love and attention he deserved." Lilia almost choked on his words, but he continued on. "She raised him as her own, loved him, and nurtured him until he became a king. And they both lived happily ever after."

Silver stared at the faceless crowd in thought. It has been years since his father stopped telling him bedtime stories, yet the one with the princess stood out to him. His father never described her in detail, but Silver often wondered if he would ever meet a woman like her. He often had dreams of a beautiful woman who looked to be around his father's age. Still, he has yet to meet someone whose beauty can make the world stop.

"We need food, clothes, water, and new swords. Are we missing anything else…" The green-haired boy looked up at his friend (more like a brother), but his friend's eyes stared off at the crowded marketplace. "SILVER!"

Silver broke out of his train of thought and turned to his friend. "Did you need something, Sebek?"

Sebek groaned in annoyance. "You were staring off into space again. You must stop doing that so we can return to the Young Master."

Silver sighed and closed his bag. "Father can care for him just fine, but we can head back. Let me make sure I have my magical pen, and we can go."

Once they had everything, the two walked through the Briar Valley markets and back to the castle. The walk was short, yet Silver was too occupied with his thoughts. He had a feeling that something would happen today, but he did not know if it was good or bad.

As Silver was about to exit the bustling market, a woman walked past him. Her features passed for a brief second, but Silver felt it. Sebek, who was in front of him, slowed down. The voices around him sounded like unintelligible noises. It felt like the world suddenly slowed down, and it all happened when the woman passed.

Silver immediately turned around in search of her. His eyes caught sight of her swaying hair and pointed ears. She looked young, possibly around his father's age. Silver's feet acted before he could think.

"Wait! Miss, wait!"

Sebek turned around only to find his friend not there. "Silver?" Sebek's eyes landed on Silver running away. "SILVER! GET BACK HERE!"

The woman turned around to the noise to see a silver-haired boy heading her way, followed by a green-haired boy screaming at him. Her eyes stared at the familiar uniform. It was an updated one from the one she knew, but it still had the same colors as Briar Valley. Suddenly, the silver-haired one started pointing at her.

"Miss! I need to talk to you!"

The woman immediately ran off in hopes of losing them. Meanwhile, Sebek had finally caught up to Silver.

"Silver! Why are you chasing that woman?"

"Remember those stories Father would tell us? Specifically, the one with the princess? That's her!"

Sebek looked at Silver like he was crazy. "How would you know that? We could be chasing an innocent woman?"

"She had similar features to the princess, and the world slowed down when I saw her. Trust me, Sebke. It's her."

Sebek looked at Silver with a conflicted look. They should return to the castle, but what were the odds that it was the same woman. Even Sebek had moments where he wanted to meet her.

The woman moved fast, using her fae abilities to her advantage. What felt like hours was actually minutes of running, and she was heading toward a large crowd. It would be a matter of time before she lost them.

"We need to do something!" Silver yelled to Sebek. The green-haired boy had a determined look.

"I have no choice but to do this." Sebek took a deep breath. "DO YOU KNOW LILIA VANROUGE?" The woman and everyone else stopped moving and turned to them. She stood there stunned, giving Silver and Sebek enough time to catch up to her. Even up close, her beauty was maximized by ten.

The woman's eyes widened briefly before going to a neutral expression. "Was he looking for me?" she replied, causing Sebek to groan.

"You didn't answer my question!"

Silver sighed before looking at the woman. "I apologize for my friend, Miss. It is a long story, but Lilia often talks about you."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "You're lying. He would never talk about me like that."

Silver turned to Sebek and noticed the big crowd watching them like it was a drama his father liked. The two nodded after a few moments of silence.

"I think it's best to discuss this over tea. How about we go back to the castle?"

The woman glanced around her, a hint of reluctance on her face, before nodding.

---

The three sat in Malleus' study with Sebek preparing the tea. The woman stared at the room in awe.

"The King must have traveled a lot," she whispered as she stared at the many pennant flags decorating the walls.

"They were gifts from Master Lilia to the Young Master, Yuu. The Young Master treasures them." Sebek proudly said as he set down her teacup.

Yuu thanked him and drank from her cup. She set it down and looked at Silver. "So let me make sure I understand this. You are Lilia's adopted son, and you-" her gaze turned to Sebek, "-are Baul's grandson. Lilia would tell you two stories where I was a princess, and you think it's me? How would you know?"

"He always talked about how beautiful you were and how it would look like time would slow down when you walk by." Silver explained, causing Yuu to blush.

"I think he was exaggerating."

"No!" Silver exclaimed, "It felt like the world stopped moving when we passed you in the market earlier."

Yuu's mouth opened in shock, "I see…What else did he say in that story?"

"He mentioned how you met a cruel knight, fell in love with him, and he left you heartbroken. The story ends with you adopting a child."

Yuu chuckled and leaned back, her eyes gazing at the ceiling painting. "Did you know that's how I met your father? It was a long time ago, he was a general, and I was naive. I thought he would reciprocate my feelings, but I was lying to myself the whole time. That story sounds like the life I wanted when I met him."

Sebek awkwardly drank his own tea and remained quiet. He had heard stories from his grandfather about how the mischievous Lilia they knew now was very different from years ago. Meanwhile, Silver slammed his hands on the table.

"Father may have been like that before, but he is not now! Also, I was too young to understand then, but he would always stumble and tear up when he told me the story. He may not say it, but I know he regrets what he did."

Yuu smiled sadly. "Thank you for that, Silver; those are the words I wished I heard years ago."

"Then you should stay so you can see him!"

Yuu shook her head. "I don't know if I should. I should be heading out soon before it gets dark. I'm visiting the Scalding Sands and hear it is lovely this time of year." Yuu brushed off imaginary dust off her clothes and started standing up.

Silver and Sebek stood up like they had a burst of energy. They jumped toward Yuu and pushed her back down.

"NO!"

"WAIT!"

Yuu became slightly annoyed. "What are you two going on about?"

"What is going on here?" A deep voice asked as he entered the study. Everyone froze, and their eyes turned to the newcomer.

"Lilia?" Yuu said as she stared at him. He looked handsome, but she still saw small remnants of the cold man she met before. Her eyes were wide, just like Lilia's, and her heart tensed up from seeing him.

"Yuu?" Lilia whispered with fondness that startled Yuu. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt an invisible pull towards her like an enchanted spindle. Neither of them moved and stared in silence until Silver cleared his throat.

"Father, I'm sure that you remember Yuu. If you would excuse Sebek and me, we must help Malleus." He quickly said as he grabbed Sebek's arm and dragged him out.

"Right! We must see the Young Master to help him!" The two boys immediately closed the door, leaving Yuu and Lilia alone. What Malleus needed help with? They may never know.

Yuu cleared her throat. "You know it's been a while since I've seen you, Lilia. You definitely changed." She made no move to leave the room, causing Lilia to give in to the invisible pull.

Lilia chuckled and sat down next to Yuu. "Don't I still look youthful?" He grinned mischievously.

“Don’t push it. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your back yet.” Yuu smirked, causing Lilia to gasp.

"My youthful appearance has made it through the years! Besides, who else was supposed to watch over Malleus during his youth?"

Yuu laughed at the thought. She felt her heart relax as they quickly made conversation like they were old friends seeing each other. "I guess it makes sense. I heard the King was quite the handful as a kid."

"Yes, but he grew out of it...most of it. He had a wonderful young caretaker to watch over him."

Yuu rolled her eyes and smiled. "Don't push it now. You may have cut your hair and dyed it pink instead of red, but there is more than that. You look happier and not like you're ready to murder someone. You even have a son. A human son, for the matter. The Lilia I knew before would never want to be near one, much less adopt one."

Lilia smiled proudly, his eyes briefly glancing at the door Silver had just left from with fondness. "Well, things happened, and I met Silver. He is my pride and joy, after all. I taught him everything and he has been a fantastic retainer for Malleus."

"I can tell. You raised him well. Did you know that he was the one who found me in the market? He even told me you tell him stories about me as a princess. I could not believe it myself." Yuu chuckled, but Lilia remained silent.

"Lilia?"

Lilia looked at Yuu with a serious expression. The atmosphere felt slightly tense as Yuu knew it was time to address the elephant in the room. Suddenly, Lilia got down on both knees in front of Yuu and held her hands. He gently caressed her fingers with his thumbs.

"You know, I tried to find you after the war ended. My mind was so focused on it that I did not realize what I did to you until it was over. I even returned to your house to beg for forgiveness, but you were gone." He looked up at Yuu. "Did you leave because of me?"

Yuu slowly nodded and looked down at Lilia's hands. "That was part of the reason. That house may have brought me painful memories, but I always wanted to explore the world. Your leaving gave me an excuse to do it. Despite that, I learned so much about myself from it."

"I'm happy for you, Yuu. I tried to look out for you years after, and then I met Malleus and Silver. You can see what happened next…" Lilia trailed off before continuing. "Yuu, I am so sorry for the damage I've done. If I could travel back in time, then I would. I would be the fae that you deserved back then. I was slow to realize it, but I love you and always have."

Yuu felt tears form in her eyes. "Lilia…" The former stoic man rested his forehead on her knees and began to cry.

"So please, if you could give me a chance, I will stay by your side for as long as you want. If not, then I understand. I will respect your wishes."

Yuu sighed, causing Lilia to look up and for their eyes to meet. "I still have plans to travel, but I have an idea. I will think about it, and when I come back, if you are still waiting for me, we can talk again and go from there."

Lilia nodded with hope in his eyes. He moved to sit on one knee, grabbed Yuu's left hand, and kissed her knuckles. When Lilia's lips touched her skin, Yuu felt a spark flow through her body. It was a familiar feeling, and she had missed it.

"I, former general Lilia Vanrouge, swear to wait for you, Yuu, for as long as you need until you tell me to go or death do us part."

Yuu interlocked their fingers together as a sign of comfort between them.

"I, Yuu, promise to give you, Lilia Vanrouge, my answer when I return." Her eyes shifted to meet Lilia's red ones. "Maybe I will let you propose to me properly."

Lilia smiled with all the love he had for her. "Take all the time that you need."

With those words, both knew the future would be bright.

---

Later

Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and Yuu sat together, silently eating dinner until Silver addressed the other elephant in the room.

"So, Yuu, can you cook?"

Yuu's eyes lit up in excitement. "Yes, I can! I picked up a few things during my travels, so say the word, and I'll make it." Yuu smiled, causing Silver, Sebek, and Malleus to tear up. The three ran to her and pulled her in a big group hug while crying tears of joy.

"Thank you!" They cried in relief. Meanwhile, Lilia watched them from afar with a smile.

"What a lovely family."

"Mommy, can you read me another bedtime story?"

Yuu laughed as she tucked her daughter under the blankets. "Another one, Aurie? I already told you many."

"Please! My little brother wants to hear one too!" Aurie pleaded. Her big red eyes shined with forming tears, and she put on her best pout. Yuu sighed, giving in to her daughter's cuteness.

"Okay. One more, and that's it. I don't want you to fall asleep when your father and brother return tomorrow. You know that they will be excited to see you."

Aurie smiled proudly and nodded, her hair swishing up and down. "I promise, Mommy."

Yuu smiled and ruffled Aurie's silky hair. "Now, what story do you want?"

"Can you tell me the story of the beautiful princess who fell in love with the handsome knight? I like that one."

"Alright, young lady." Yuu sat beside her daughter and let Aurie rest beside her as best as possible with her 30-week baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. One day, while out in the village, she met a knight who was in love with her from afar for years…."

A/N: Aurie means "the golden one" and comes from the Latin word aurum aka gold. It's also used as a short form for the name Aurora :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia x yuu #lilia vanrouge #general lilia #general lilia x reader #general lilia vanrouge #general lilia vanrouge x reader

1K notes · View notes

syneilesis · 2 months ago

Text

[fic] so delicate the bones

so delicate the bones

Love and Deepspace | Caleb (Xia Yizhou) x Main-Character!Reader | M | 3.5k words | ao3 link

A treatise on hunger, intimacy, and protection.

Content Warnings: character study, Caleb-centric, unpleasant and violent imagery and themes (one metaphor hints of cannibalism, several body horror/gore), obsession and possessive thoughts/behavior from a yandere character, implied pseudo-incest (mostly as a canonical context), pining, purple prose, angst(?), solipsistic narrative, spoilers.

A/N: I'm going to post this now before I lose any more confidence and chicken out. Nothing actually happens in this fic, I'm only pretentiously waxing philosophical about Caleb. I'd argue that this is tame, contrary to what the warnings suggest (arguably!), but still please heed them. This is primarily inspired by the main story. The line, "You’re only safe when you’re by my side. No one will be able to find you ever again. I’ll protect you forever." is directly lifted from the main story. This fic is just hyperfocused on Caleb's desire to protect MC and desire in general in relation to MC hence the hunger metaphor, so other plot-related characters and whatnot are ignored. However! I included the winter soldier arm because why not.

In conclusion: please be gentle? lol. Divider by @/saradika

you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth

—Margaret Atwood, Speeches for Dr Frankenstein

He is intimate with hunger. A marked emptiness hollowing the core of his being, and each step he takes it rings an echo inside the walls of his flesh, refusing to settle.

No matter what he does to fill it, it never sates, and eventually this hunger grows to eat away at his organs, down to their tissues, and, finally, their cells. It births a set of sharp teeth that scrapes everything, including his ribcage, where inside his heart beats; until all that’s left of him are torn scraps of his remains and an aching need that gives itself life, gaining claws and a voice, desperately whispering to him every nightfall so he lies in bed awake, eyes desperately wide and desperately open.

In the darkness of his room, only one word this voice whispers:

devour

Caleb turns in the direction where your room lies, the bed in it cushioning your sleeping form, always and forever unaware.

II.

He remembers the simpler things, once upon a time.

A kitchen. Silver utensils lined up neatly on the island, glinting under the summer sunlight streaming through the window. The smell of home-cooked meals wafting along his nose. You, sitting at the dining table, leaning forward with huge curious eyes, waiting for him to set down the plates.

Your gaze trailed over the path Caleb carved around the kitchen like a moth fluttering closer to a source of light. It had been like that, always, with you, a compass seeking the magnetic North, and he, stalwart in his promise of protection – and care.

A meal shared between two people signifies closeness, intimacy. Seated across each other, face to face. A direct, transparent meeting of words and actions. No secrets, just equilibrium.

You told him of your day, narrating your adventure through the arc and sweep of your hand, and Caleb listened to your tale, mind and body his own compass pointing to your own North, interjecting every now and then with affirmation and light-hearted teasing. The rise and fall of your expressions satiated him, albeit inchoately, but Caleb swallowed them all greedily in the hopes that one day the feeling of fullness would arrive.

This – what you had with him then – was intimacy, the kind that called upon the image of children running across meadows, their laughter tinkling along the sepia-tinted sky, leaves caught between their windblown hair. This was the kind of intimacy that invited soft, warm dreams, and the weightlessness of waking.

It was the intimacy Caleb had with you, but not the intimacy he yearned for. What he wanted – needed – was the kind that peels away the skin to reveal the muscles, veins, and even bones beneath. Watch the blood circulate all over the body, pulsing with life, a proof of existence. He needed to see what’s protected under the layer of flesh and all its vulnerabilities, darkening from exposure.

III.

Dying, in some ways, is a form of relief that eliminates the persistent hunger that rattles at his core. There are regrets, of course; the last image of his waking life is the memory of you crumpled with hesitation, with secrets – and that is another reminder all over again of the intimacy that you no longer shared with him. Gone are the sepia laughter that floats wistfully at the back of his neck. Though in reality and upon further examination, when it comes down to it, the hunger is stronger than the acceptance of death, because relief is not satisfaction – it is, merely, escape, something that Caleb all his life would never turn to. Secrets, yes – but never escape.

And so this rebirth, he supposes, is another form of intimacy: the unbending will of conviction, of hunger devouring itself and transmogrifying into something else – a fleshless creature pure of want. The bones are his cage that he longs to gift to you; he calls it protection. Intimacy that splinters, that lodges itself deep inside your soul.

This is the price of dying and being born again.

IV.

To everyone else a reunion is an emotional celebration that is as climactic as the peak of a symphony. To Caleb, it is altitude and freefall, the drop into an abyssal pain, all steel walls and surveilling lenses, secrets shadowed into the corners.

When you ask him, Is it really you? and the sheen of your disbelieving gaze cuts through the darkness of the interrogation room, the hunger inside him whips into life. It feels like decades since he had seen you, and Caleb is distinctly aware that you’re no longer that little girl who clung to him whenever something frightening jumped into the frame as you two watched a movie. When you attempt to figure him out it is with the hardened look of a hunter, its own exoskeleton catalyzed through suffering and experience.

It is a reminder that you truly are far from being fragile, and that is a grief Caleb has to swallow. Let the hunger settle with it, if only for a moment.

Who else would I be? he returns. A reunion like this pushes into the surface the long-buried feelings one had stamped down in order to go through each day, as if everything’s still normal. He sees that in the cracks of your posture, the fine, webbed lines that encircle your body, despair leaking out, the proof of your truth. There’s only one Caleb in your life, isn’t there?

The cracks spread until you shatter before him. Caleb catches you in his arms and the warmth seeping through your skin feels like a distant echo against his embrace. Dull, muted – an imitation of stimulus that elicits no correct response except the surge of hunger lunging inside him, overtaking his heart, clamoring for your continuous presence.

His hunger has always toed the line of danger, but now it is precariously so.

His flesh hand climbs to the crown of your head, the strands of your hair oily as he curves his palm according to your shape. It’s easy to fall back into well-worn habits. A pat on the head for praise; a tousle of hair for teasing. A stroke on the top of your head for consolation. And you – bury yourself further into Caleb’s chest, listening to the soothing rhythm of a beating heart.

I missed you, you whisper, the words felt more than heard, and Caleb reinforces his hold on your back. I missed you so much.

The correct response to this stimulus is to say the same sentiment, that he has missed you just as much, and that he’s sorry that he’s had to keep his survival a secret from you, but now that he’s returned, things will go back to normal once again.

But then again – what is normal?

Certainly not the way he misses you – a chimera of ugly limbs with dagger-pointed claws and the torso of a gluttonous beast, black tar dripping from its orifices. If you peel away the veil that hides this creature, you’ll discover the enormity of his hunger, the dense substance that will trap you like glue until it devours you feet to head. There is no escaping it after it is revealed.

And certainly it’s not the way he’s sorry. You know Caleb the best, and that is a truth. But it is also a truth that he’s lived a life full of secrets, and this is just one addition to all other secrets he’s kept from you.

The correct response is to say he misses you too, and that he’s sorry things turned out this way. But this response is not Caleb’s truth, and Caleb may hide many things from you but he has never lied to you. There’s no point in starting now.

So what he says to you in return is: I know.

It’s not their home (home is at Linkon, already reduced to charred rubble); it’s only a house, but it can be a home if you want it.

A lifetime ago, at the cusp of his high school senior year, his teacher asked the class their dreams and aspirations when they reach adulthood. Caleb’s initial answer had been a careless scribble of his first impulsive thought, and he was summoned to the office for it. Is this truly what you want, inquired his teacher, and Caleb said, Yes, I’ll take any lucrative job I’m good at.

He didn’t mention the rationale of that answer, how years before, he had already cemented his plan of providing you a place you and he could call home, and how his future earnings would be solely for you. At the time, that was how Caleb defined the idea of protection – a sanctuary that you and he shared. It’s almost idyllic, how simple his wish had been in the past.

You said you wanted to become a pilot.

Yes, because I like the thrill. Then he added after a thoughtful measure: And it pays well.

Wariness rippled across the teacher’s movements, in the sway of the hand that dismissed him, and Caleb returned to the classroom already forgetting the entire exchange.

Now, that long-forgotten memory resurfaces, and Caleb faintly smiles as you interrogate him about the state of his abode.

Why don’t you decorate your house more?

How long do you stay here until you’re called back to duty?

Don’t you ever feel lonely?

I never found it to be necessary. Not very long, just a few days. All the time, because you’re not with me.

What he says instead is: This is just a place to stay and sleep.

It’s only a house, not a home. Home is protection, precludes it, a sense of belonging and comfort, security and assurance. It’s more than a roof over one’s head; it is a sanctuary.

Your arms akimbo, a challenge in the tilt of your chin. Well, we can’t have that, can we? Just give me a couple of days.

What is a sanctuary? A place built upon pieces of one’s self, familiar and intimate in every reflection. And Caleb looks forward to discovering your reflection in the pieces of his house that may soon be called a home.

Years ago, this was his dream: a sanctuary for you and him, a place that you and he could call home.

Now: the home you will make out of his house he will fortify with his bones and his hunger. He will place pieces of himself in the hidden cracks of the walls, the threshold of each door, in the mechanism of each lock. He will leave his imprints in the foundation that sustains its sturdy structure. He will make a fortress out of your kindness and keep you there, inside, for as long as he can.

You told him, once upon a time, that you no longer needed protecting – except who else but him could look out for you?

VI.

Growing up, though part of life, tasted a little bitter on his tongue.

Sometimes, Caleb thinks that he is cursed with this inconsolable hunger, impossible to soothe despite all attempts to quell it. It only recedes into the background, a low hum that blends into everyday noise. And then it bares its teeth at the first sign of your freedom.

It feels like a long, continuous burst of snapshots – you getting older, fat and flesh and muscle filling out, inches stacking up yet still remarkably shorter than him (a sore point to you but a point of delight to him), and most of all: the confidence in the way you carry yourself, spine straight and chin up. The days when you stepped behind his protective back, when your fingers hooked into the edges of his sleeves in a coy attempt to make him stay – they’re all rapidly decreasing like a withering tree. And something in Caleb panics, the fear of his becoming obsolete in your life more tangible than the risk of death in his every flight.

Your freedom, then, becomes his shackles. Imprisoned by his hollowness. A role reversal: it is you who flies away and it is he who is trapped on the ground. He can only watch you soar high without his help. His hunger rages at that, at that devouring fear that is rooted at the very core of him. A fear that is actually unfolding in real time.

What can he do? What can he do to vanquish this all-encompassing fear?

VII.

To be human is to feel. To feel, though, requires the presence of sensation.

Rebirth comes with sacrifices, and Caleb has already paid the price.

When he tousles your hair in jest, there is only the pressure of solid object colliding with another. He has to calibrate the strength of his grip to avoid breaking things; has to mind the arc of his gestures so as to remain visually natural, not mechanical. For all the technology afforded in this era, degradation of vital functions is still explained as an unavoidably unfortunate tradeoff.

Take pain, for example. Caleb does not feel anything else, except pain. Blazing heat narrowed within fine, delicate nerves. Pain and numbness, like oil and water swirling at intervals.

In this sacrifice it is the sensation of touch that’s taken the greatest casualty. Texture is the first to go, then weight, then pressure, then pleasure. Only the memories of sensation fuel Caleb’s imagination as he drags his fingers down your cheek, conscious of the amount of force he exerts in the act. Everything now is calculated, down to the minutest of motions.

It’s only a matter of time before the loss moves on from sensation to emotion, and Caleb knows himself to be an indifferent man. Like an ascetic he does not indulge on many a thing, only religiously devoted to one constant truth. He will not mourn the absence of luxury, or boredom. Or the impatience during a wait that’s taking longer than what is originally expected.

He will not consider a loss the fear of death (he has defied it once; who’s to say he won’t defy it again?), or the panic wrought by Wanderer threats. He will not miss the thrill of the extreme, the speed, the alighted nerves like freefall sans precaution. All these ultimately do not matter to him – because he has long been living the life of decimation, a gradual diminishing of everything that he is until all that’s left are the barebones of what’s truly precious to him. Hunger, after all, when overwhelming, does not discriminate.

Consumption, then, becomes another type of numbness.

Only one thing truly matters; the rest are inconsequential.

VIII.

In the end a confrontation cannot be avoided, and Caleb must face this truth.

Betrayal casts a jarring sweep across your floundering form. The sofa muffles your desire to melt into the molecules of space, away from the cage of his arms and the desperation of his hunger. From an outsider’s perspective you and he are engaged in an intimate closeness, the kind of which raises doubtful questions about affinity. At some level Caleb relishes that impression, but on another, it is not enough. It is never enough.

A hunger that has consumed everything and still furious for more is a hunger that is raw, dark, exposed with its bloody bones and its bloody teeth, stripes of flesh insinuated between.

It is his hunger, then, that speaks when Caleb says, You’re only safe when you’re by my side. No one will be able to find you ever again. I’ll protect you forever.

It is hunger that speaks, no longer whispers bleeding into the shadows of his bedroom but a tectonic roar that shifts and upends the status quo between you and him. It is the hunger that covets the intimacy between intertwined souls bereft of bodies and worldly matter, everything pared down to their essence, to their very marrow, solipsistic in their embrace. It is the hunger that promises sanctuary made out of his bones and blood and the metal-wires-processors that convert his pain into life. His hunger speaks, because Caleb, in the end, is still a man in love, and that love is what propels his existence.

You don’t have to protect me, you say, cruel in your tenderness, tender in your rejection. I haven’t needed your protection for a long time now.

Caleb staggers, expires a shaky breath. His head sinks into the crook of your neck. The hunger still burns, but he is sapped of energy, tendrils of resignation slithering around his feet.

Why couldn’t you accept? Why couldn’t you see?

He could tell you all he had seen and gone through in Deepspace – the deafening silence and loneliness; the cavernous black that creeps into your pores and wrings out a seismic tremor throughout your body that lingers on for weeks; the grotesque forms of Wanderers that have yet to reach Earth – and claim that these are the inevitable things, like destiny, that will befall upon the world, and how would you fight them on your own?

Things were better when it’s just the two of us.

Caleb –

I wanted to be your sanctuary. I still do.

Caleb.

A pair of hands cradles his face, light, painful in its softness, and he meets your misty gaze brimming with something he refuses to acknowledge.

In this shiver of a moment, the hunger climbs up to his mouth and the acidic taste of bile scorches his throat, the words push themselves out of his lips but he resolutely clamps them shut, clinging to the last shred of his control.

Otherwise, this confession would have ravaged out of him:

I’ve held onto this hunger for most of my life; it fuels me but also destroys me, and there is no cure for it. One day it will devour me whole, this monstrous, unrepentant hunger, and when that happens I want you to build a castle out of my leftover bones, call it your sanctuary, so that whenever the world hurts you, you will find solace in the intimacy of my devotion. And when you sleep, we will meet in dreams. I will offer my heart for you to take a bite of, and my flesh hand will wipe the blood into the crevice of your mouth. Protection is the savage passion of love, and you can use every atom that makes up what I am, because what I am is nothing if not for you.

Your fingers descend on his lips, tracing their outline until your fingerpads rest over the plumpest part in the middle. The harsh breath he exhales pierces through the thick silence, and Caleb watches you inhale the very air he released – and he savors that moment of indirect union.

Unbidden, he parts his mouth until the tips of your fingers fall inside, and he shapes his lips around them, your nails brushing against his teeth. You taste of salt and rain, his tongue darting out at the point between fingernail and skin.

Not this way, Caleb. Can’t you let me go?

The fingers retreat, and Caleb swallows the arguments that formulate readily in his mind. Instead, he drags out, In what way then?

In what way would you accept the gravity of him – all his hunger and pain and numbness and dreams and wants and needs – if at all?

But you shake your head, and disappointment lances at him. You have so many secrets now, you whisper, almost loathing in its sibilance. I want to trust you, but I don’t recognize you anymore.

And that’s the crux of everything, isn’t it? Trust. Safety does not exist without trust. He cannot protect you if you do not trust him. Even without ever lying to you, Caleb supposes that he could still lose your trust – in so many other ways.

He knows a losing battle when he sees one, and this is one of them. In spite of the lacerating words – or maybe because of it – your expression collapses, and Caleb cannot endure the confrontation any longer, not with you threatening to break at any moment.

So with great reluctance he takes a step back, grants you all the time and space that you need, and isolates himself in his own room. His hunger still pulsates, but Caleb chains it until it subsides. Until it regresses into a background hum once again.

Some battles are easily won, others need tactics. A battle like this necessitates patience and care, short-term losses for long-term gains, and meticulous, meticulous strategy. This is not new to Caleb, so he will plan. Experience only requires recontextualization, but the foundation is still the same.

After all, there’s no point in stopping now.

IX.

He is intimate with hunger. A marked emptiness hollowing the core of his being, but now this hunger has mutated into a chthonic abyss that spares no one, not even the remains of him. It will gorge itself on everything that comes in its way, a savage journey that has no end in sight, no conclusion to this eternal terror.

And this unstoppable force is left to promise you one final thing:

If he can no longer protect you, then he will make it so that the world – no, the universe – can no longer harm you.

◘

Humans in love are terrible. You see them come hungering at one another like prehistoric wolves, you see something struggling for life in between them like a root or a soul and it flares for a moment, then they smash it. The difference between them smashes the bones out. So delicate the bones.

—Anne Carson

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb x you #lads caleb #lads caleb x reader #lads caleb x you #lnds caleb #lnds caleb x reader #lnds caleb x you #fic #my fic #if you did read this and finish it thank you for giving this fic a chance

92 notes · View notes

o-uncle-newt · 4 months ago

Text

OK I've talked here, I think, about my strong belief that we need a Miss Climpson's Cattery TV show to jump on the mystery period drama bandwagon- and I've been thinking about what it might look like and have some ideas

Please feel free to add some in comments or reblogs!

The overall cast structure is basically like Call the Midwife S1 (or, more accurately, S2-3)- we have a POV "new to the crew" character who is purportedly the main character (but significantly lower-drama than Jenny lol) but it's functionally an ensemble. Miss Climpson is the Sister Julienne character, aka the on-the-ground boss, and then there are a bunch of other operatives, who all show up at SOME point in most episodes but only a few of them take center stage each episode in a particular case or two. There are also the support staff/actual typists, who are fun side characters.

Wimsey is a side character, and is played by a non-super-famous actor. He only appears in a few episodes at most in each season, usually as someone who is giving work to the operatives. While he can bring in operatives to help him on his cases, he is never allowed to solve any agency cases.

Harriet is a one or two episode max character. She meets Miss Climpson and possibly Miss Murchison but nobody else (as discussed in Gaudy Night). Honestly, if they don't show her that's fine too. At most she's brought in to provide help/insight on a literary world case.

The show starts right after the events of Strong Poison, and it's discussed as a recent case among the team. That said, unless it can be fit canonically into a Sayers story without undue bother, the episodes do NOT circle around existing Sayers plots.

Miss Murchison is a significant character, and has a love interest to whom she gets married sometime toward the third/fourth year of show canon (as we know that canonically she gets married sometime before the events of Gaudy Night). It is a cute older-nerd romance and everyone ships it. There is no "drama," just sweetness.

This is optional, but it is POSSIBLE that Wimsey brings Miss Meteyard into the firm, likely not permanently but possibly on a one-case basis for her advertising world expertise. She is initially snobbish about it but soon grows out of it.

As I've alluded to above, the main rule is- Sayers canon can never be violated. There is SO much space for great story and characterization that falls totally in line.

Everything else... is totally up to whoever! And I'm absolutely up for other ideas! These are just the main things I've thought of and I may come back and make additions/edits but here we go for now.

Though... casting idea- I'm not usually very good at this but I really feel like, speaking of Call the Midwife, Georgie Glen (Miss Higgins) could be an interesting Miss Climpson. Quite different than the excellent one in the Petherbridge/Walter adaptation of Strong Poison, but still good. I'm completely open to other suggestions though, as well as casting suggestions for other characters (including just actors who you think would be good for random currently-nonexistent/hypothesized ones- it's just so open ended, there are so many choices!).

#lord peter wimsey #dorothy l sayers #the cattery #miss climpson #strong poison #miss murchison #harriet vane #gaudy night #call the midwife

112 notes · View notes

elainsgirl · 26 days ago

Note

I started reading ACOTAR in December last year so I’m very new. I noticed quite a few signs of elriel while reading the series but stupidly, I was waiting for Gwyn’s introduction because I saw so many people shipping her with Azriel and saying they’re endgame. I thought that at some point somehow elriel will end up like moriel where it doesn’t pan out and Gwyn becomes the main girl for Azriel. Thus I tried to not become invested in any of Elain and Azriel’s moments for fear of my heart breaking because they don’t work out. But that was hard as I really enjoyed anything that involved both of them. I especially loved Feyre shipping them because I internally wholeheartedly agreed with her lmao.

I also lost interest in elucien real fast as there was absolutely nothing there lol. Besides Elain’s obvious disinterest in him, I also believe even Lucien isn’t that crazy about Elain. I feel like he feels obligated to take interest in her because of the mating bond and that’s it. He’s not interested in Elain, he’s interested in a mate.

Fast forward to ACOSF (looooong after ACOMAF where already I felt like I sensed something between them after their first meeting, eg. Elain wearing a cobalt blue dress like Azriel’s siphons when they met, her looking to him to see if the dinner discussion is going well, enjoying chatting with him during the dinner despite being scared of fae and getting him to open up a bit more, SJM focusing separately on Feysand, Nessian, and Elriel respectively during the dinner scene. I could go on) and I was wondering how SJM is going to build up gwynriel in (1) book into something worth being invested in and have me letting go of (3) books of elriel build up.

Meanwhile Gwyn only gets introduced a ways into the book and Azriel barely has any notable interactions with her that indicate a future romance. Afterwards, I remember being like “why on earth is this fandom so sure they are/will be canon?” I got a hold of the BC and it literally just confirmed the obvious. Elriel is the next couple.

Imagine my shock when I see all the gwynriel blogs lecturing elriels on this and that (with the most ridiculous misinformation I’ve ever seen) and how elriels are delusional, etc.

It just bothers me that they essentially trick (whether knowingly or unknowingly) new readers into believing gwynriel is endgame, and then the new ones don’t always realize it’s nonsense so the fandom just keeps being flooded with new gwynriel shippers. While I support it as a crack ship, I’m entirely against someone trying to tell me they will be canon. Especially when these people are usually anti IC and Elain haters. I’m not taking them seriously.

Anyway my gut was always telling me I shouldn’t ignore elriel. I went back and reread every single mention/foreshadowing of elriel in the books and allowed myself to just absolutely fall in love with them. And I don’t regret it one bit

Hey anon 🫶

I read the acotar series before acosf came out and it was so obvious just by that series alone, Nessian and elriel were going to be a thing - so I went into acosf unsuprised when elriel started having an attraction towards each other and we got more of their buildup for their story. Gwynriel didnt even occur to me? I liked Gwyn but there was 0 memories interactions she had with Az that made me stop and think “ooh there is something there” I finished acosf and left the book thinking elriel was next. Got onto tiktok and kept seeing gwynriel everywhere in the comments of acotar videos so at first - I thought they were some type of inside joke or acota4 cult…I was shocked to find out people were shipping Gwyn and Az. Nothing in acosf ever alluded to them and I didnt believe an author like Mass would introduce Azriels LI so late into the series, that too a spinoff. I kept seeing gwynriels mention the Azriel bonus which I had 0 idea existed/ out of pure pettiness I didnt read the bonus. My stance was, I shouldn’t need a bonus to understand gwynriel or need it to know they’re the next couple. I should have gotten that from acosf alone and let me tell you - so many Gwynriels struggled with justifying their ship and proving its endgame when they can’t use the bonus which tells you enough.

Elriel was just naturally developed. Everything about them is complimentary and they just make sense together/ I loved Feyre for clocking onto elriel straight away and I loved reading every single one of their scenes and how much significance Mass places around it. It’s like she just can’t help herself from writing about elriel poetically, lmfao. Yet when Elucien were revealed to be mates, I was taken back but intrigued and already digging the idea of them. The roguish male paired w the polite lady? Sign me up for that dynamic any day yet when it came to actually reading about them / they felt so stale and awkward. Like mixing two different people together and its just not working. Every elucien scene was hard to read yet every elriel scene was flawless. They just matched each other and reading about them together just made sense. I wS so happy when Feyre questioned why elriel weren’t mates bcs it meant Sjm was planning on doing something w that storyline which kept me even more engaged w elriel. Come to acosf - and all thats changed is elrield attraction is confirmed and Az is basically spending the whole book pining after Elain. At no point does Mass break elriel apart.

Gwynriels know there is nothing romantic or even significant about any Gwyn x Az scenes hence why they have to downplay every elriel scene (which they use for their HCs/fics) and exaggerate what little Gwyn and Az scenes there are. Most of their ship is 55% talking badly about elriel to any poor sucker who would listen, 12% fanfics and HCs which is basically copy past of canon elriel scenes, 5% theories that are basically elriel theories that they’ve copied and 28% of gwynriel fanarts to entice people on Gwynriel.

It’s hilarious how they call Elriels delusional meanwhile they’re thinking Sjm would have Az ready to beg on his knees for Elain then get w Gwyn. Thank God thats not her type of love stories. It cracks me up at how disappointed newcomers who have heard about gwynriel are when they realise what little scenes gwyn and az have especially compared to elriel scenes. I think most jumped onto the bandwagon of gwynriel bcs they hated Elain and this way, their precious Az can be with someone they deem “better” then meek, boring Elain.

There is a reason Sjm had Feyre question why elriel aren’t mates. Had Az know what was amiss w elain instead of her mate who stood there uselessly. A reason why she had Elain call Azriels scars beautiful and had Elain be the first to hold TT aside from Az. A reason why Az went to risk his life for Elain whilst her mate was gallivanting trying to help another woman, I can go on but you get the gist. These moments weren’t used as filler scenes. They’re important to Az and Elain as characters separately and together as a couple. No author would spend that many books & important scenes to build a couple only to have them breakup and end w others.

I also dont regret falling in love with elriel 🌸🦇

#elriel #pro elriel

67 notes · View notes

wangxianficfinder · 3 months ago

Text

In the mood for...

Dec 21st

~*~

1. Hello! Today, I'm in the mood for a fic that explores the kinky love life of wangxian. I prefer it to be 40k and above.

The whole fic doesn't have to revolve around it but I would like it to be an important part of the story. I prefer it to be canon universe but it can also be an AU.

We know that Wangxian are pretty kinky in canon so I would like to read a fic that tackles all of their kinks in a healthy way and I would also like them to talk about it and communicate.

Thank you! @broodyelii

u could check out some of their fics (ScarlettStorm)

~*~

2. Hello! I hope you're all having amazing days and I'm sorry for bothering again so soon, but I just need to ask. Does anyone knows any fic about transmigrator!LWJ? I just stumbled onto the concept and am obsessed. @lostandmessedup

🔒 Once In a Lifetime - CQL-IRL transmigration shenanigans. series by Anonymous (T, 41k, WangXian, RPF, Transmigrator LWJ, Attempt at Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Crack, Crack treated half seriously, Friendship, Developing Friendships, Dimension Travel, after 14 chapters I want to clarify that LWJ is more of a dimensional traveler than a transmigrator, he didn't die. he's alive and well lol, Happy Ending, Transmigrator WWX, Attempt at Humor, Married WangXian, WangXian are married and they make it everyone's problem)

🔒 a kick-start to falling in love by wereworm (T, 7k, WangXian, Transmigrator LWJ, Modern, WWX licks blood, that's a content warning but also just a statement about WWX, LWJ is the transmigrating cultivator and WWX is the uni student caught in the rain, WangXian's intricate rituals tm, Meet-Cute)

💖 the roots by thelastdboy (E, 30k, WangXian, MM/WQ, MM/MM's Husband, Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Post-The Untamed, Canon - MDZS & The Untamed Combination, Transmigrator LWJ, Parallel Universes, Dimension Travel, Time Travel, Desperation, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Post-Canon, Heavy Angst, Mental Health Issues, Grief/Mourning, Abandonment, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, WQ Lives, Found Family, Cottagecore, Rogue Cultivator WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Bittersweet)

~*~

3. Hi, this would be for ITMF: I just finished I Carried This for Years by LadyOfVengeanceAndWar and omg, I'm obsessed? (too bad its still a WIP) I'm desperately in need of more yummeng siblings role reversal, or yummeng siblings personality swap. I guess even !ylz lwj is fine too if it's good. I prefer long fics (and preferably nothing explicit, but I'll take anything atp)! thank you!!

Keep Holding On by abCEE (M, 316k, JC & WWX & JYL, WangXian, Canon Divergence, OOC, Demonic Cultivator JYL, YLLZ JYL, Twin Prides of Yunmeng Dynamics, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, Yunmeng-Jiang Sect, Fall of Lotus Pier, JC gets the support that he needs, WWX knows what self-preservation is, Role Reversal, LWJ will do anything for his WWX, Twin Jades of Lan Dynamics, Good Uncle LQR, Gusu-Lan Sect, WangXian are married and have a son, Ghost General WQ, Sunshot Campaign, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artistic License, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Established Relationship, PTSD, role reversal but not entirely YL centric)

🔒 Tarnished Jade by AlyxRae (T, 66k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, LWJ is the Yilling Patriarch, WWX is Hanguang Jun, Not Everyone Dies, Temporary Character Death, Normal Yilling Patriarch story arc, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Slow Burn, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Demonic Cultivator LWJ, LWJ Whump, POV Alternating, Sunshot Campaign, Mutual Pining, Soft LXC, Dysfunctional Jiang Family, Good Sibling JYL, Smitten WWX, but he doesn't actually realize it, Cultivation Sect Politics, smooching, JC is Bad at Communicating)

Some Flowers Bloom Only At Night series by punisherbeauty (T, 98k, JC & WWX & JYL, JC & JL, JC & LWJ, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JYL & JL, JYL & LSZ, LJY & LSZ & JL, Female WWX, Male LWJ, JC Needs a Hug, YLLZ JC, Ghost General WN, Protective WQ, Role Reversal, LWJ & WWX Are LSZ's Parents, JYL Lives, BAMF JYL, JZX Lives, BAMF WWX, Sect Leader JYL, Fluff, Angst, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Slow Burn, Self-Indulgent, Hurt/Comfort, Protective JC, Demonic Cultivation, Demonic Cultivator JC, Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, Good Sibling JC, Soft JC, Drama & Romance, Family Drama, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Depression, Physical Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Blood and Injury, MXY Deserves Better, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Angst and Feels)

~*~

4. ITMF... Are there any fics (wangxian preferably but I'll take all recs) where the cultivation world wanted LWJ's death after the burial mounds, but LXC and/or LQR begged them to reduce it to the punishment he got instead? Bonus points if LWJ doesn't know about it. @thegertie

~*~

5. Hii this us for itmf would be forever grateful if someone could recommend fics like this snarky but supportive lan qiren about wangxians marriage hehe @bunnycoffeeumcat

in-laws hate it! get a grandbaby with this one weird trick by lazulisong (G, 1k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, although more like, its free grandbaby)

as it should be by Sienne (T, <1k, LQR & WWX, pre-WangXian, Time Travel, Drabble, Crack, Fanart)

~*~

6. hi!! for the itmf, can i have your favorite watching the series fics? preferably with no crossovers with other mxtx books

💖 The Path by Seastar98 (Not Rated, 279k, WangXian, JC/WQ, JYL/JZX, Watching the Series, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, CQL Verse, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF NHS, it's what he deserves, check chapters for specific warnings)

Teen Project to Change the World by animeloverhomura (Not Rated, WIP, 841k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Watching the Show, With a bit of the Manhua and Book thrown in, BAMF WWX, Fix-It, JGS is his own warning, Attractive WWX, Homophobia, disturbing imagery)

The Characters of MDZS Watching the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by emma_screams (M, 166k, WIP, WangXian, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Drama, Characters Watching Their Series)

unhappy stories with happy endings by Last_for_Hell (M, 30k, WangXian, Memories, Memory Fic, Kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, sexual content maybe, References to Torture, PTSD, Characters Watching Their Series, kinda, but not entirely, very light consensual non-consent)

Mo Dao Zu Shi: The Musical by Loveable_Psychopath (Not Rated, 117k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-it, Song Fic, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking)

Your Tragedy, Your Song by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (T, 42k, LQR/WRH, JGY & NHS, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Characters Watching Their Series, basically they watch their future, But through songs, exposed secrets, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Songfic, Drama, POV Multiple, the author makes use of animals to represent characters, JGS is a shit, WRH is highkey so done with WC, let LWJ take care of WWX, mild body horror, the author accidentally makes wenqi and wangxian battle for the spotlight)

~*~

7. Hellour! So, for the next itmf, i have been seeing that trend "we listen and we dont judge" everyhwere and thought how wangxian would do in it. So basically a fic where they are forced to say their fantasiesfor eachother or share them with eachother (could totally be all crack or all angst i love both)also, any era works just no wip or abo fics please @just-troy0-0

I think these work for 7, although the truth sharing happens as a result of curses or spells in all of them:

🧡 Brilliant Mistake by brooklinegirl (E, 53k, WangXian, Modern AU, Sex Pollen, Mpreg, dubcon, Modern Cultivators, Dubious Medical Science, 🔒[Podfic] Brilliant Mistake and Brilliant Love (the sequel) by raitala)

beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot (enheduane) (E, 12k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Confessions, Curses, Embarrassment, Vulnerability, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Honesty, Communication, beneath six layers of silk by darkredloveknot [podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

Rarely Pure and Never Simple by thunderwear (Not Rated, 3k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Truth Spells, Curses, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Post CQL, Getting Together)

Words Spilling From Your Lips by Hellosweetie99 (M, 4k, WangXian, truth curse, Established Relationship, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Post-Canon, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones)

~*~

8. ITMF a fic where lz is a DILF 🙏

ink and honey by mirrorofprinces (T, 1k, WangXian, Modern, Meet-Cute (kind of), Finding Love at the Farmer's Market, Rattoos, Single Dad LWJ, Support your Local Beekeepers)

Phishing by Lovewave_Aesthetic (E, 11k, WangXian, Modern, Smut, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Size Kink, Size Difference, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Enthusiastic Consent, Age Difference, Daddy Kink, WWX being bratty and verbal, LWJ being a quiet but kinky dilf, WangXian Have a Breeding Kink, Hair-pulling, Loss of Virginity, Light Bondage, Trans Male Character, Trans WWX, Hackers, Wangxian with vaporwave aesthetics, Non-Linear Narrative)

A Matter of the Heart by Nomme_dePlume (M, 54k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, Light Angst, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Strangers to Lovers, Attempt at Humor, BromCom to RomCom, Masturbation, Dry Humping, Getting Together, Love Confessions, Mild Language, Falling In Love, Time Skips, The falling in love happens during the time skips don't @ me, Road trip with your childhood hero who is now a DILF, WWXs hate-hate relationship with doing things for his own happiness, Story is an excuse for the author to write a cheesy airport confession scene)

~*~

9. Hey! First off thanks for all the work you do. Secondly, I have been itmf a fem!LWJ/fem!WWX fic with actual plot(I’m okay with E rated) without either WWX or LWJ having past relationships with other people( or if they did it’s irrelevant). Thanks in advance and have a good day/ night wherever you are!! @neverforgetyou-1

so little time and i'm way off track by defractum (nyargles) (E, 25k, wangxian, modern w/ cultivation, case fic, amnesia, dub con, fuck or die)

cold hands, warm heart by martyrsdaughter (M, 8k, Female WangXian, Post-Canon, Gender or Sex Swap,BCase Fic, Ghosts, Time Loop, Banter, Fluff and Angst, Married Life, for wx liberating ghosts is part of the domestic bliss, Vaginal Fingering, Light Bondage, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, LWJ and WWX Have a Non-Con/Rape Kink, Consensual Non-Consent, Explicit Depictions of Suicide, mild bloodplay)

🔒the dinosaur artist by varnes (T, 12k, Female WangXian, Bringing Up Baby AU)

Happy for Now by ScarlettStorm (E, 75k, Female WangXian, Modern AU, no magic, Rule 63, Cisswap, There Was Only One Bed, romance author au, Adhd wwx, service top LWJ, Pining, Smut, Comedy, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, horny yearning, furtive masturbation, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Sex Toys)

~*~

10. Hi! for the next ITMF are there any sun/moon spirit aus? like Shine Brightly, That I May Glow by TheLegendOfChel

~*~

11. Hi!! My biggest thank you to the admins for running the absolute treasure of a blog and to everyone who helps with finding fics and recommendations!!

ITMF fics where:

A) Jiang Cheng understands how disfunctional and bad his parents are towards both Wei Ying and himself and actually does something about it to protect his brother/best friend and their relationship. Kudos if it is not only about Madam Yu being abusive but also about Jiang Fengmian being avoidant and careless towards all of them, and doing stupid shit like overlooking Jiang Cheng in favor to Wei Ying in a really stupid and oblivious way. I crave clever, protective and badass brother Jiang Cheng!

B) Madam Yu understands that she is a bad paarent figure towards Wei Ying and her children and does something to make it better. Maybe someone crudely opens her eyes on her actions and words' consequences, maybe she has a moment of clarity, or some accident shows her how her children and their sect brother are beware of her / protective / ready to do anything for each other and that Wei Ying is actually amazing and has horrifyingly low self-worth. She understands that she was wrong and needs to change to save her relationship with her kids and her charge. Kudos if the way to forgiveness is difficult and painful, but at least somehow successful in the end!!

Thank you ❤️ @shellennium

11A)

The Stranger Inside My Son by Mademoiselle_A (T, 79k, JC & JFM, JC & YZY, JC & WWX, JC & JL, JC & JYL, WangXian, JC & JGY, Time Travel Fix-It, But from an outsider's POV, JC is So Done, JFM's A+ parenting, YZY's A+ Parenting, Both are not great but this is not a bashing fic, JC-centric, But from JFM's POV lol, POV Outsider)

The Threads of Fate by WaitForTheSnitch (E, 108k, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Not Everyone Dies, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, Protective LWJ, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Pining LWJ, WWX in WWX’s Body, JC & WWX Reconciliation, is it reconciliation if WWX doesn’t know they were estranged?, Oblivious WWX, WWX Deserves Better, WWX Deserves Happiness, Siblings JC & WWX, Supportive JYL, Protective NHS, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Comic Book Science)

11B)

❤️ And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together, And Time is But a Paper Moon [PODFIC] by sami, Winterstar1412, [Podfic] Cold read of And Time Is But A Paper Moon by kisahawklin, multiple translations available)

🔒❤️ the thing with feathers by RoseThorne (G, 43k,wangxian, Transmigration, Time Travel Fix-It, Illnesses, Family, Scars, Memory Loss, Angst, Fear, Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Parent YZY, Referenced Sexual Slavery, Blood and Gore, Sexual Tension, Arranged Marriage, Grief, Adoption, POV Third Person, POV Alternating, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Good Parent LQR, Clairvoyance, Butterfly Effect)

~*~

12. Hi lovelies! Long time lurker first time requester. I'm in the mood for a fic where wwx's or lwj's relatives try to keep them apart, with good or bad intentions, resulting in angst and misunderstandings. Recently I read a fic where LXC's well-meaning intervention (temporarily) broke up wangxian and now I crave that mineral. Could be modern AU or not, happy ending preferable, and ideally under 50k.

All The Years Lost by UseMyMuse (T, 26k, WangXian, Teen Pregnancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Single Parent AU, Forced misunderstandings, Forced miscommunication, Mpreg)

The Winner Takes It All by YilingSani (M, 46k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, Old Friends, One Night Stands, No Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Forgiveness, Second Chances, Inspired by Mamma Mia! (Movies) Teen Pregnancy, Mpreg, mention of miscarriage, Birth Trauma, amniotic fluid embolism) These are both mpreg. I know of others that fit the request but they're significantly longer than the requested under 50k.

hi! i was wondering if the asker of #12 in the latest fic finder could maybe tell us the fic where LXC’s well-meaning intervention broke Wangxian up? thanks !!

~*~

13. Hi I hope you can help me found a fic. A dark wangji who have no problem killing anyone who try to hurt weiying. It can be past or future. Just want a crazy over protective wangji to wei ying. @sadritsuka12

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

🔒 Flawed and Free by Vrishchika (E, 18k, WangXian, WIP, Major Character Death, Dark LWJ, Dark LXC, Dark Gusu Lan Sect, anti JC, Character Death, Temporary Character Death Time Travel Fix-It, JC bashing, Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

Somewhere Sits an Empty Throne by Siamesa (E, 19k, WangXian, Major Character Death, TGCF Fusion, Gods & Goddesses, Ghosts, Romance, Vengeance, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark LWJ, Grief/Mourning, Explicit Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending)

🔒 Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ, Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, Blood and Violence, a lot of people die, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, because of, Shameless LWJ, LQR Tries, to fit into the following tag, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian’s version of it, Scheming NHS, POV NHS)

The Dark and Stormy Clouds series by lordmediator (E, 24k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Angst, Dark, Dark LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Violence, Blood and Violence, YLLZ WWX, Hurt WWX, Protectiveness, Protective LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Sad WWX, JC Needs a Hug, Good Sibling JYL, Protective JC, Good Sibling JC, Protective LXC, Dark LXC, Supportive LXC, Supportive JYL)

~*~

14. Hi! For itmf can I have fics where Xie Lian and Hua Cheng are WWX's parents? E.g. fics like Hua Xianle. Thanks so much!! ☺️ @no-blg

🔒 the hearth series by eccentrick (G/T, 65k, WangXian, HuaLian, Found Family, fluff with plot, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Disabled Character, Ableism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, slow burn found family, Adopt WWX, Married HuaLian, Post-Canon TGCF, Kid Fic, TGCF Spoilers)

it takes a village by lariyats (T, 13k, HuaLian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, Family Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Child WWX, hualian adopts wwx au, Snowball Fight, Shapeshifting, Festival, Ghost Peppers, Case Fic section, Growing Up, 4 part narrative structure, it’s seasonal)

Narrative of Strength by erosophic (T, 75k, HuaLian, WangXian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, FX & MQ & XL, JC & WWX, FengQIng, WIP, Canon Divergence, HuaLian Adopt WWX, Found Family, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, XL takes WWX as a disciple, Protective XL, Protective HC, Adoption, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, QR being QR, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence)

Just one person is enough by Sarah_R (T, 11k, HuaLian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, WangXian, HX & WWX, SQX & WWX, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, Past Child Abuse, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, MDZS canon divergent, LZ & WY will still fall on love!, And marry!, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Literally WWX getting adopted by all the gods and demons…, AND GETTING ALL THE LOVE HE DESERVES!, His still a self sacrificing idiot though…, HC best dad!, XL best mom!!!, WWX protection squad, Falling In Love)

🔒 there's a CHILD in my shrine?? WTF!! by corduroyserpent (G, 2k, HuaLian, HC & WWX, XL & WWX, Fluff, Crossover, HuaLian adopts WWX)

~*~

15. Thanks for running the ITMFs! Do you know of any fics where mxy!wwx plays wangxian on dafan mountain, lwj recognizes him, and jc strikes him with zidian, but breaking from canon the hit works and wwx is expelled from mxy’s body. Dealing with the aftermath of that- lwj almost got wwx back but now he’s gone again

None of them knew about the sacrifice ritual at this point, so for all jc/lwj knew it was a possession and zidian would work. So just something exploring that dynamic

~*~

16. In the mood for fic, where there is Lan Zhan possessed by some evil entity or yin iron or something. Fic where Lan Zhan is not himself and doesn't do anything evil willingly, but his possession his making him into different person. I wonder if there is such fic like that. No modern aus please.

old wounds, like hidden ghosts by wordsonpage (T, 2k, WangXian, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Dark LWJ, but like accidentally, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending) it's a short fic but old wounds, like hidden ghosts definitely fits the request

Clouded by diamondbruise (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Case Ficish, Curses, Dark LWJ, It’s a curse, Dubcon Kissing, Jealousy, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, no sex in this fic just in general)

~*~

17. Heyo, me again. Are there any fics where Jiang cheng and His huaisang are married and canon still happens? Like all of canon? The reveal of meng Yao and everything? Please let me know, thank you😁 @yasssbassss

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

125 notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 8 months ago

Text

Sympathy For The Devil ~ Donaka Mark x fem!Reader

please allow me to introduce myself, i am a man of wealth & taste... -the Rolling Stones

Summary/ Warnings. Um… Donaka Mark is a scary rich asshole–with a soft spot for you. If you’re squeamish [or righteous] you’re not gonna want to read this. Voyeurism. Predatory behavior, manipulation. Power IMBALANCE. Eventual NSFW. Eventual line between dubcon and noncon is gonna be microscopic, y’all, this man plays gAmes… Reader is shy, but tough, in her way. Also, when I say Reader is small, I’m more implying just compared to Donaka. I kind of assume most of us would be, no matter your body type. 🥵

Big Fat Author’s note: This is a Donaka Mark x fem!Housekeeper!Reader fic based on the brilliant @discoscoob ‘s bot, which is SO fun to play with and I really recommend it. I fell into a rabbit hole for daaaaays. I’m in CAI Anonymous now. Seriously it was a problem.

I guess you could call this a little experimental hybrid fic written with AI. I was curious. And after working on this for weeks I don’t think the writer’s union really needs to worry about AI coming for their jobs. The bot’s writing is shamelessly fun but clunky, you delete more than you keep, it’s a lot of work to edit, and you really have to lead it by the hand for anything to actually HAPPEN.

THAT SAID it is sO entertaining, and once in a while he’d do something i wouldn’t have ever thought of, I felt like the lab rat hitting the button for the treat over and over again, LOL. Disco really knew what she was doing when she programmed the personality of the bot! It was also helpful in keeping a character on track. I think AI could be a useful tool generating ideas, breaking writers block, or something to bounce ideas off of, but not for the grunt work of actually writing a story that has any soul in it. Isn’t that a relief? I made an outline for the first 9 chapters and basically ran the scenes through like a simulator to see what the bot came up with. And when I didn’t like it I made it do it again, LOL, the Donaka bot probably thinks i’m a bossy c*nt.🤣 After that, I'm afraid we can only blame our own unhinged brains for what's here, it got too raunchy for the bot to handle, and this fic never would have become what it is without the help of our little community here, the comments and head canons and brain rot, I love you guys!

So….I hope you enjoy, and a HUGE THANKS to Disco for giving me permission to even do this, you’re the sweetest my dear, and the Queen of the Bot Creators in my book!!

And and…it’s been a LONG ass time since I’ve been to Hong Kong. I did some research to refresh my memory but please bear with me. All mistakes are my own. Why do we say that? Who the fuck else’s would they be? 🤣 Obv. this is set c 2013, when Man of Tai Chi came out, before the crackdown in 2020. Oh, and, I have no real idea about work visas, i made that shit up... just roll with it. 🙃😘

One. 一

The first time you meet your new employer, Donaka Mark, you aren’t really even paying attention.

It’s because you have on headphones, and you’re intently focused on sweeping the floor while listening to your upbeat girl power rock mix–so you don’t hear him yelling at someone over the phone threateningly, and you don’t notice when his gaze locks on to you like a tiger who has just spied a tasty little deer.

You are oblivious, as he comes up behind you, appraising your figure with narrowed eyes. You seem small, next to him, but most women do. He decides he approves of his assistant’s choice in hiring you. You’re a sight he won’t tire of for a long time.

Donaka leans on the door frame, his dark eyes fixated on you, taking in your every minute detail, the way the muscles in your arms move, the shape of your face, the curve of your hips and your little feet.

His expression is stoic but behind it are a million thoughts running through his mind, he can’t take his eyes off you and after a few moments he finally speaks, his dark tone cutting through the music.

“You’re new.”

Your music wasn't so loud that you were unaware of outside sounds. Standing up straight, you sweep off your headphones to face the commanding voice. "Yes, sir?"

Donaka notices he towers over you, and he likes that. His dark eyes shamelessly take in your innocent eyes, your lips, your curves. His gaze lingers almost long enough to make it uncomfortable, but not quite.

“Have you been informed of all of your duties?” Donaka asks, his tone and gaze both demanding and intense, making you feel small.

"Yes, Mr. Mark."

Donaka smiles at his name on your lips, the way you say it, the way you look up at him with your wide eyes. He likes it more than he’d like to admit, but he knows how to mask his emotions well.

Even though his expression is still stony, there’s a hint of excitement in his breast as he leans off the door frame and takes a few steps closer, but still maintains a respectable distance.

“And you can handle them?”

"Yes, Sir."

Donaka nods, his dark eyes slowly and shamelessly trailing over your figure again.

“Good.” Donaka murmurs, his dark and intense tone making his next sentence more of a demand. “I need to be able to depend on you. I like things just so.”

You tilt your head, feeling like you’re missing some subtext, or that you’re the butt of an unspoken joke. "Your house will be clean, Sir.” Between you and the two other girls on the household staff, surely you could manage.

Donaka smirks at your naïve reply, his dark eyes still fixated on your face as he takes another step closer to you, almost like a predator stalking its prey.

“I trust that it will…” Donaka purrs, his voice low and smooth, his dark stare intense and demanding. “Let me show you the rest of the house…”

You’d already received a walk-through with his assistant, but you are more than intrigued to receive a personal tour from the big man himself. There is something captivating about him. It's not just his good looks. His presence commands your attention.

Donaka can feel you watching him as you follow him down the hallway, the way you’re intrigued by him, the way you’re staring. It fills him with satisfaction, like you’re a new prize he’s added to the shelf of his collection.

He’s aware of the effect he has on people. Men fear him, women want him. Yet you don’t look at him with the same blatant hunger he’s used to from the opposite sex. You’re curious, but not ready to fall down on your knees yet.

He would see how long it takes to change that.

He glances over his shoulder at you as he leads you through the house, his dark eyes looking you up and down again. You follow close, taking two steps for every one of his, his legs are so long.

He can’t help but feel somewhat amused, enjoying the way you have to scurry to keep up with him. He can’t help but think how easy it would be, to pick you up, and to pin you down…

Donaka Mark’s home is an achievement of luxury architecture, dark, modern, yet filled with Chinese elements of style. Ceiling-high tinted windows afford a breathtaking view of the bay. His living room is like a museum filled with priceless artifacts. Antique carved ivory elephant tusks, beautiful Ming vases and exquisite stone Elder statues, silk scrolls and bladed weapons. All of it you will be expected to keep tidy with a painstaking hand. You think it’s possible your practically useless degree in art history and former employment in a gallery may have given you an edge in his assistant’s selection of hiring you.

He seems to genuinely enjoy your interest in these things, telling you about them at length. There is a large Qing dynasty vase in cobalt blue and gold enamel designs of clouds, cranes, and bats you cannot tear your eyes from. It looks…familiar, and in person, utterly enchanting.

“You like that one?”

“I like bats,” you admit, shoving your hands in your apron pockets so that you do not forget yourself and touch it with your bare fingers. You will be wearing gloves, when you detail these items.

He lifts an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused. “Oh?”

“They’re cute. And…they’re good luck.” In Chinese culture, at least.

“Most women I’ve met find them sinister.”

“I think…they’re just misunderstood.” You can’t help looking up at this intimidating man through your eyelashes at that. You swear you didn’t mean to start double talking with your new boss–it just falls out of your stupid mouth, and you feel his attention upon you sharpen.

He’s used to women looking at him in a certain way, women staring up at him with lustful hunger.

The way you look at him feels different –like you truly see him–he’s not sure what to make of it yet, and that is certainly new for Donaka Mark.

“Misunderstood?” he repeats, his dark gaze intense, looking down at you from his lofty elevation.

"Sure. They have a reputation for being scary, but really they eat mosquitoes and pollinate plants. Without them whole ecosystems would collapse."

Donaka hums at your words, finding it surprisingly endearing. He’s usually used to women fawning over him or at least trying to seduce him, but you’re here lecturing him about bats.

His smirk remains on his face as he watches you fidget nervously, his dark eyes fixed on you. You look back to the vase, and then it dawns on you. “Oh my god…is this the piece that sold at Christies last year for like…1.5 million dollars?” You take another cautious step backwards, as though you might shatter it if you breathe wrong. You saw it in an article–the gold enamel had been so distinctive against the blue. Sacrifice blue, the same as in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.

Only after the question falls from your mouth do you realize how gauche it is to ask, your hands flying to your lips. “Forgive me, it’s none of my business.”

Mark, however, just continues to look at you interestedly. “You follow auction results?”

“I follow…art news,” you confess.

He nods, his intense gaze starting to become uncomfortable. “Actually, it was 1.8 million. You think I overpaid?”

You feel like this is a test–or a trap. It was a nice job, for the day it lasted…

“Well…it doesn’t seem you bankrupted yourself?”

He snorts in answer, shaking his head.

“Does it make you happy?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, as though the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “It made me happy to outbid a Sheikh’s son and a Mainlander plastics tycoon for it,” he admits.

Ah, so he was invested in the thrill of acquisition–not appreciation for the object itself. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“I see.”

“I’ve disappointed you.” It’s not phrased as a question.

You shake your head, though maybe it does a little. Looking around his home, you’d thought Mark had exquisite taste–but he probably has an art buyer like every other obscenely rich businessman needing to acquire items for the sake of cachet.

“Does it make you happy?” he asks, and there is an unexpected hint of playfulness in the question–delivered on a knife’s edge.

“Yes,” you admit. Frankly you’re stunned you get to see it like this, without a glass barrier or sensors or alarms. It’s usually the only way people like you get to enjoy art like this.

He smirks at you. “Then it was worth every penny.” He’s being sarcastic, of course, but there is a glitter of something in his dark eyes. It’s there and gone, like ripples in a pool–it makes your heart skip in your chest.

“Let me show you the rest of the house,” he invites, before placing a hand on your lower back, his fingers large and strong against your soft skin as he gently guides you away from the vase and to the next room.

His light touch makes you aware of every nerve in your body. It's not quite improper enough to complain about--you’re sure he’s well aware of that.

And…there's the fact, deep down, that you like it.

The span of his big hand on your spine makes you feel impossibly small, and protected, and that is insane, of course, because you are just the maid.

He shows you the library, filled with built-in bookcases that make you drool, his office with his huge carved ebony desk that makes you think impure thoughts…and then, his bedroom.

He isn’t oblivious to the way your reaction changes as you enter the room where he sleeps.

He can see the way your eyes roam and your expression changes, the way you look at the massive bed against the far wall, the way your eyes widen when you look at the expensive rosewood furniture and the stunning view out the wall of windows that can be brightened or obscured with a dimmer switch.

He watches you intently as he takes in your every reaction.

He's all business on the surface, specifying clean sheets every other day, laundry, and daily detailing of the bathroom. But it's hard not to keep looking over at the bed, even out the corner of your eye.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, but he doesn’t push it, staying just this side of the line. You don't linger, and he shows you a more private lounging area filled with a long leather couch, additional chairs, and monitors, all black at the moment. There's something almost sinister about all the screens, and you wonder what all he's watching.

“You must really like movies?” you ask hopefully, and he senses the wariness in you. Your intuitiveness gives him a small thrill–he likes it, that you’re smart enough to be afraid.

“I like to watch all kinds of things,” he tells you, almost like a dare for you to guess what that means. “But mostly…I use these for business. I run a security company, I assume you’re aware?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Donaka decides he loves hearing the submission in your tone when you call him Sir. It’s almost like a promise to keep him happy, to do exactly as he says.

He asks you to keep all the screens clean, and to dust the cords and routers and be careful not to unplug anything.

Then your attention turns to a meditation area, a massive sand sculpture on the wall and the floor, flanked by natural stacked stone. “Wow, been a while since someone vacuumed here,” you crack, earning a reluctant huff of laughter from the man behind you.

“Maybe…leave that alone, for now,” he requests, then his hand is on your back again, guiding you out.

Though it’s not going to be your area of responsibility, he shows you the garden next. It's a beautiful, manicured space. Two Rottweilers patrol the grounds. They look fierce, but one immediately comes up, sniffing you and leaning on your leg for a pet.

Donaka blinks as his reputably ferocious and staggeringly expensive pure-bred guard animals roll over at your feet for a belly rub. Delighted, you pet them both, speaking to them sweetly. They grin up at you, their dagger-like canines glinting in the sun.

He is never one to be moved by anything sentimental, but something about the sight of you like this inspires a warm twinge in his chest–heartburn, he reasons.

“Let me guess,” he says acerbically. “They’re just misunderstood?”

You press your lips, trying to suppress a smile, and failing. "Animals tend to like me?"

He can honestly admit, as he watches you crouch down to administer a belly rub, that he’s never been jealous of a dog before.

Sensing that maybe you’re not doing the dogs or yourself any favors with this severe man, you try to shoo them off. "Ok, babies. Go back to being fierce again. Shoo."

Donaka snorts with amusement as he watches you attempt to gently shoo these dogs that are nearly as big as you are. Suddenly he whistles sharply, administering a sharp command in Cantonese. That is when the dogs jerk to attention, and trot off to patrol the grounds again.

He turns his attention back to you, taking in your slight expression of surprise, clearly caught off guard.

"That was impressive,” you admit. “What did you say?”

“I told them to get back to work,” says Donaka with a smirk.

“Ah. I guess I better learn that one.”

“Will I be needing to reprimand you too, Miss y/n?”

You’re not sure why his dark stare calls up a boiling heat inside you at that moment. You press your thighs beneath your dress, under the guise of standing up straight. You’re afraid…he knows all too well.

“I…certainly hope not.” You’re pretty sure that you’d pee yourself if this intimidating man raised his voice to you.

“Have you learned much Chinese since you’ve been here?” he asks conversationally, just as you assumed it was time for you to get back to work.

“I can count to ten, and say thank you,” you admit, a little embarrassed. Obviously, you intend to learn more. “The essentials for international travel.” You’d originally come to Hong Kong to teach English, but when you saw the pay attached to this job listing you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Teaching was ok, but you hadn’t anticipated how expensive this city would be. You’d only made enough to cover your basic expenses month to month, with no room to save or do any fun activities or side trips to the mainland. This position paid three times as much–and you were beginning to understand why.

“Hmm. Have you traveled much?” He seems skeptical, and you don’t really blame him.

“I’ve…been all over the world,” you admit, albeit it was on a shoestring. “I wanted to be a travel writer.”

“Wanted to be?” He is a man who picks up on subtlety immediately.

It’s a dream you’ve all but given up on, after publishing a few articles, but all in all it was more slog than triumph. You’re not cut out for the grind of periodical work, the stress and the deadlines. It sucks all the joy out of writing for you. You shrug with a little sigh.

“I hope you will remember the NDA you signed to work here?” he asks, his dark eyes roaming your face, taking in your every micro-expression. You would really hate trying to lie to this man. Good thing you’re not a corporate spy. He’d probably…string you up, and do something unmentionable to you.

Why the thought titillates you more than scares you, you have no idea.

“Of course, Sir.” He seems satisfied with this. So why do you have to add, “I won’t tell anyone your guard dogs are suckers for a belly scratch.”

He frowns down at you, stepping in close so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and you know he knows it too. You admit that you are shaking in your shoes under that look, until a smirk breaks his intense expression, and the relief you feel is palpable.

“I would appreciate that, Miss y/n.”

Donaka savors the satisfaction he feels in flustering you, enjoying the way you swallow, watching the muscles in your throat. He imagines what his hand would look like there, on your delicate skin, your pulse fluttering against his strong fingers. He would literally hold your life in his hands…and the moment you surrendered to him, he would so enjoy rewarding you for it…

He finds himself caught up in this little daydream, while you stand before him, practically hypnotized like a mouse before a hungry snake. “Y/n?”

“Sir?” you answer quietly, and he revels in your deference. This was going to be fun.

He speaks Cantonese again, softly this time, the language beautiful and whispery on his tongue. You find yourself staring at his lush, pink, lips, and it takes you several moments to realize he’d said the same thing he’d told the dogs: get back to work.

Flooded with embarrassment, your face on fire, you stutter, “Yes, Sir.”

With a dark chuckle and his hands in the pockets of his designer suit, he watches as you practically flee back to the house.

The Smithsonian article about this vase...

Aesthetic post about Donaka's house...

Part 2 -->

all chapters

#donaka mark #donaka mark x reader #donaka mark x you #donaka mark x y/n #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #julias deranged donaka x housekeeper fic

156 notes · View notes