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xxselenite · 15 days

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˖ ࣪⭑ All the things yet to come are the things that have passed | Jacaerys x reader

modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x gn!reader [no use of y/n] Word count: 9.8k Summary: Jace had been your rival at school for more than one year when your literature teacher paired you up for an assignment and you realised you might have misjudged him (featuring Helaena being an icon) Or Five times Jacaerys proved you wrong – and one time you did. Warning: a teeny tiny bit of angst, but it’s mostly fluff, the tiniest allusion to smut ever a/n: This is technically a prequel to Happens Great, Happens Sweet but it can be read as a standalone. I’m a sucker for academic rivals to lovers so I had to write this. This fic actually drove me crazy, I struggled so much writing it, it took me nearly a week, but I’m kinda satisfied with it. The title is from Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier (Hozier my beloved <3) Lastly, English isn’t my first language so I apologise in advance for any possible grammatical and/or lexical mistake. feedback is welcome and appreciated <3 (images are taken from pinterest)

“For this analysis,” the teacher started, “you will be in duos. Each group will have a different extract from a different book to work on, and you will then present your work in front of the class.”

You immediately turned towards Helaena who sat beside you with a wide smile on your face. You saw a glimmer of joy in her eyes, matching your excitement to have the occasion to work together, but the teacher interrupted you before you could ask her to pair up with you.

“My goal here is for you to see that analysis is incredibly personal, but also to teach you how to cooperate. For this reason, I have already established the pairs that will work together.”

Several sighs and moans echoed in the room and you reported your attention on your teacher again. Mrs River, your English teacher, had made it clear since the first day that this class would be different from the others. She encouraged dialogues and debates, creative writing and personal analysis in papers. She made brutal comments but graded nicely, and you could feel how much you had improved at her contact, but moments like this made you question your admiration towards her.

As she started naming students, you tried to find a pattern in the duos she had formed. It was obvious that she wanted to avoid putting friends together, and you thought that she would put a good student with one that struggled more, but it was not done consistently. You mentally erred in your mind the names that had already been said, groaning when she put Helaena with Cregan.

“We’ll work together another time,” your best friend whispered and squeezed your hand in a comforting manner.

After a little while, Mrs River’s piercing gaze fell on you as she called your name and you listened with apprehension.

“You will work with Jacaerys Velaryon on the opening chapter of the Bell Jar, from the first line to…”

Your jaw dropped as you stopped listening. You had to be cursed, or paying for the evil deeds you had committed in another life, or the Seven were angry at you, because this could not have gone worse. You would have rather worked with anyone but Jacaerys Velaryon, the guy with whom you were always neck to neck to be on top of the class, who was half of the reasons you worked so hard – just so you could display a smug smile whenever you beat him on an assignment. The guy you had a distaste for and…

“He hates me,” you told Helaena during lunch break, hiding your face in your hands. “This is going to be a nightmare. Don’t you want to exchange? I can work with Cregan and I’m sure you’ll get along with Jacaerys very well.”

Your friend tilted her head to the side, mindlessly chewing on a weird orange vegetable that was supposed to be a carrot.

“I think I was not paired with him because I’m his cousin.”

“You’re his what now?” You dropped your fork.

“His cousin,” she said in a monotonous voice. “Well, technically his aunt but our family is weird and we’re the same age so…”

“You’re Jacaerys’s cousin and you have not told me before? While I’ve been criticising him since last year?”

The girl shrugged, her white hair falling from her shoulder like a waterfall of liquid silver.

“Didn’t think it’d matter. You’re more than allowed to dislike my family, and he’s part of my extended family anyway.”

“Great,” you said ironically, pushing your plate away from you – you were convinced today’s food was made out of radioactive wastes. “So now I’m stuck working with a guy who I hate, who hates me, and I’m gonna feel bad every time I complain about him.”

“What makes you think he hates you anyway?” Helaena asked. “He didn’t seem that upset to be paired up with you in class.”

You hated to admit it, but your best friend had a point. Earlier in class after shooting her a look that meant “help me,” you had turned around to face your foe and now partner, only to realise he was already looking at you. If his face did not show any joy, he was not as pissed off as you were – surprised and apprehensive were better words to qualify his expression.

You started thinking at the last time he had clearly displayed hatred towards you, struggling to find any substantial proof that was not a highly interpreted interaction. Chewing on your lip, you felt increasingly ridiculous under your friend’s scrutinising glance until something came to your mind.

“Last year I was reading before the class started and I overheard him talk to his friends – or maybe they form some sort of royal court around him actually – and I distinctly remember hearing him call me a goodie-two-shoes. Maybe that’s not hatred, but that’s not a sign of love either.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not a goodie-two-shoes, it’s not my fault he never saw me having fun because I don’t go parties. And there’s nothing wrong with being a goodie-two-shoes anyway!”

“Alright,” Helaena interrupted you. “I think I get the picture. Listen, I’m really sorry you’re not with someone you wanted to work with and I’d go to Mrs River to ask if we can swap partners in a heartbeat, but we both know it’d be useless. She never does anything without a specific purpose in mind. Maybe she put you together because you’re the two best students in her class?”

“I can sense you want to add something.”

Helaena twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

“I think she’s perfectly aware of the rivalry going between you two and wants to instrumentalise it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, as your best friend had piqued your curiosity.

“Either she thinks you two collaborating means you’re both gonna try to do better than the other and push each other to be the best, or she thinks that it will appease the tension so the atmosphere isn’t electric every time there is a debate in class.”

“It’s not electric-.”

Helaena interrupted you, saying your name with a sigh. “Please, you know I love you, but you have to face the truth. I thought you were going to throw hands last time.”

“It’s not my fault! He said that Eros and Psyche were the best Greek love story when it’s obviously Orpheus and Eurydice!”

Your best friend snorted. “I shouldn’t have gotten you started on that, now you’re gonna tell me about the entire myth again. Seriously, how did you both manage to talk about mythology when the initial subject was about King Lear?”

You let out a loud sigh. “And what if he just refuses to work with me, keeps his analysis to himself until the presentation, and makes me look stupid because my analysis is different?”

Helaena offered you a reassuring smile. “He won’t do that. You know why?” You shook your head. “Because he cares way too much about his grades to sabotage your work like that.” You kept quiet for a second to let this idea sink in. “Oh by the way, can I get your carrots if you don’t eat them?”

You sighed and handed your plate to your friend with one hand, grabbing your backpack with the other to find a snack. You struggled rummaging through your stuff, the pens wandering outside of the pencil case, the crumpled sheets of paper – you were organised for many things, but not this one… Once you finally reached a chocolate bar, you jerked it out with so much energy one of your pens got thrown onto the floor.

You were about to stand up and grab it quickly before some stupid student made fun of you, but your eyes fixed on the floor failed to notice someone approaching until you saw a hand grab your pen and hand it to you. Your eyes followed the silhouette until you recognised Jace’s brown curls and the smile on his face – though you were surprised to realise that this was not the huge smirk he’d have when his grade was better than yours, this one seemed almost sincere. This made you all the more suspicious.

“Thanks,” you said reluctantly as you grabbed your pen. You expected him to leave but he did not move, towering over you in a way that made your stomach twist.

“So, when are you free?” Your brain froze for a second and he felt the need to explain himself. “To study. Unless you want to let me do everything, you’d have the best grade for sure.”

There he was again, the arrogant Jacaerys you were used to seeing. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“No way, I can’t trust a guy to analyse Sylvia Plath.”

To your surprise, Jace let out a chuckle – that was the first time you heard him laugh and as much as you hated admitting it, it was the kind of sound you could not tire of.

“Fair enough,” he admitted. “Could we start working on it after sports class? In the library? It should be almost empty so we won’t be bothered.”

You nodded. “Sure, works for me.”

Jace smiled again. “See you later then,” he said in a joyous tone before returning to his friends. You watched him go for a second. You had not had an interaction this long with him in ages, if it had ever happened at all, and it had gone better than you expected. You observed the way he jokes with his friends, he now seemed a little less arrogant than you thought. Maybe he took your rivalry as a joke while you took it seriously (which was everything but reassuring, did that mean he thought you weren’t a threat?)

“Well,” Heleana’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “he doesn’t seem to hate you.”

You shrugged in a way you hoped was casual and your friend squinted her eyes.

“Do you know what’s curious?” She added, “I think you don’t hate him either.”

II.

One thing that had always annoyed you about Jace was how effortless he always was. He came to every test with unmatched confidence while you had been re-reading your notes compulsively for two hours. He won a match in sports class and still looked fresh as a breeze while you were sweating and panting. It was like you had to make ten times more effort to be at his level, and this made your blood boil.

This was one of your most common points whenever you started complaining about him to Helaena – which you did not do that often, despite having the impression he was always on your mind. That evening, however, as you were getting ready after sports class, you started rambling about your upcoming meeting in the library.

“And it’s so annoying! But you know what?” You asked after reapplying lip gloss. “At least I’ll see that he’s not a hard worker. It will make all of the times I beat him even more satisfying.”

Your best friend hummed distractedly.

“Do you genuinely believe that,” she asked after a little while, “or are you trying to convince yourself?”

You opened your mouth to say something witty but remained speechless in front of her. The girl kept going, unfazed by your reaction.

“Oh, I have to hurry, Aemond is waiting for me to go home. You should probably go at your rendez-vous as well.”

“It’s not a rendez-vous-”

“See you tomorrow !” She sang as she walked away, waving goodbye, her long hair floating behind her.

You grabbed your bag and contemplated the idea your friend had planted in your brain. Were you being unfair to Jace? Was being a good student his only crime, or was he willingly trying to drive you crazy with this tacit competition? You shook your head to stop your train of thoughts and started going towards the library – Jace was probably waiting for you, and you did not want to be late and offer him an opportunity to mock you forever.

Jace was indeed waiting when you entered the library. The late afternoon light bathed the room into a golden atmosphere which made it feel almost magical. You quickly scanned the room and noticed Jace sitting in a corner, typing something on his laptop with a small frown revealing his focus.

You took a deep breath and walked towards him, settling on the other side of the table.

“I hope you didn’t wait for too long,” you started, realising mid-way through the sentence that you actually meant it.

“No problems,” he shook his head. “I’ve just re-read the extract we have to work on, I have a few ideas here and there but I don’t want to make you feel like I forced my analysis upon you.”

“Oh,” you tilted your head to the side, “thank you for that. I’ve thought about the text during class this afternoon and there are a few elements I think we could use.”

“You didn’t have to read the text before?”

You shrugged, feeling a pinch of pride when you noticed the surprise in his eyes.

“I’m gonna read it now, but I have it in mind. ‘It was a queer, sultry summer,’ and all that jazz…”

“Impressive,” he nodded. “So, how do you want to organise the work?”

“I don’t know…” You said slowly, intimidated by the weight of his gaze. You thought it would be harsh, but the curiosity in his eyes was even heavier. If he was rude, you could be a bitch towards him – if he was nice, you had no choice but to match him. “We could both work on our own for a little while and then brainstorm? This way we can come up with different ideas and do the whole ‘cooperating’ part?”

Jace nodded and focused on his computer again while you grabbed your edition of the book – you had rushed home to grab it during your free hour this afternoon – and your pencil case. When you started highlighting your page, you noticed Jace’s widened eyes and chuckled.

“Are you okay?”

“You’re highlighting directly on your book?” He asked and you probed his tone for any trace of sarcasm but found none.

“If I’m studying a book, yes, but I try to be careful. Also, you will never catch me annotating my fancy books.”

“Ooooh, fancy books,” he smiled. “I’d ask you more about it, but we need to get working.”

“Maybe another time?” You asked and Jace nodded before diving into his analysis. Turns out, being nice to him did not require that much effort.

You both kept working for half an hour before you yawned and stretched, catching Jace’s attention.

“You’re done?” He asked and you nodded in response. You turned your book towards Jace who squinted to decipher your hand-writing. After a few seconds, he asked:

“Do you mind if I sit next to you? It’s gonna be more practical.”

“Sure, no problems,” you cleared your side of the table to make space for him.

As he moved next to you, his arm brushed against yours and you quickly removed it, cheeks on fire. The subtle smell of his Cologne lingered around, creating a comfortable and intimate space around you. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down and started comparing your annotations to Jace's.

You hated to admit it, but he had done a great job. His own perception of the extract complemented yours more than it contradicted it, and to your own surprise, you thoroughly enjoyed this exchange. At one point, Jacaerys leaned a little closer to read one of your notes, only to give up and ask you to read it for him.

“Which word?” You stuttered, a bit flustered by the sudden proximity. He was close, close enough for you to notice the freckles on his face – had they always been there? – and it took a second for you to react after he showed you the sentence. “Oh, it’s just that the verb ‘bump’ objectifies her in a way, which echoes her condition as a woman in the fifties, but this also renders an impression of passivity which would fit her dissociated state.”

The boy nodded and promptly added it to his Google doc. “That’s a good idea. Thank you for reading, I couldn’t decipher anything.”

“Do I write this badly?” You said with the sass you usually tried to have when interacting with him. You expected him to answer in the same tone, but he shook his head.

“It’s just that I have this bad tendency not to wear my glasses.”

“Wait, you’re supposed to have glasses?”

The boy looked away. “Proving my point.”

“I’m not gonna ask you why you don’t wear them, it’s none of my business, but don’t you use contact lenses? Do you spend your days behind partially blind?”

“I don’t really like the feeling of lenses,” he admitted. “Honestly, you get used to not seeing a thing.”

You nodded when a realisation hit you. Was this the reason why he always seemed to be glaring at you with squinted eyes? Had you been taking this as a sign of aggression for more than a year when it was just because he couldn’t see properly? You were too shy to ask, not to mention you would probably sound ridiculous and did not want to alter the temporary sympathy that had settled between the two of you, but this single revelation forced you to reconsider your past interactions with the boy.

You kept working a bit distractively, seeing Jacaerys with a fresh perspective and finally admitting to yourself that he was quite handsome. When you both ran out of ideas, your partner closed his laptop and you put your book and pencils back in your bag.

“I think we’re done for today,” he declared.

“Yes, I have lost all of my remaining brain cells,” you joked and took pride in Jace’s chuckle. “Tomorrow same time?”

Jace thought for a second and nodded. “Should be good for me.” You stood up to leave but his hand on your wrist held you back as he said “Wait.” This simple contact sent shivers down your spine. His hand was warm, surprisingly soft, not applying any pressure – not an order, just a suggestion.

You turned around to look at him, hoping you did not look too dazed.

“Maybe we should exchange our numbers,” he started. Your eyes must have widened without you realising because he immediately added, “So we’ll communicate more efficiently.”

“Yes,” you echoed, “communicate more efficiently. That’s what Mrs River wants us to do.”

You gave him your number and he dropped your hand to write it down, leaving your hand suddenly cold, colder than it should be on a mild October day. After this and some more casual small talk, you left the library, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Later during that evening, when you were lying on your bed rehashing your afternoon, you got a call from Helaena.

“I wanted to know how it went,” she explained when you answered.

You started debriefing your time with Jacaerys, trying to be as honest as possible. Your best friend listened with great attention, humming sometimes on the other side of the line to let you know she was still there. When you finished your account, she remained quiet for a moment, until you softly called her name – perhaps she had fallen asleep?

Wrong. She was well awake and asked you out of the blue:

“Do you like him?”

“What?” You squeaked. “What do you, he’s been nice for one evening but we’ve spent a year as rivals!” You carefully avoid mentioning your growing suspicion that this rivalry was one-sided. “And I barely know him anyway.”

“There’s a thin line between love and hate,” she ominously answered and you groaned into your pillow. “Well, even if you never become best of friends,” she kept going, “at least he did his work.”

“It’s not like we had a ton of work to do,” you rolled your eyes. Right after finishing your sentence, you felt assailed by guilt. Why did you feel such a need to criticise him when he had been polite, if not friendly towards you?

“Sure,” Helaena sighed on the other line. “You’re funny when you’re like that.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing. Oh, Mom is calling me, see you tomorrow!” Your best friend hung up so fast you doubted her mother said anything.

You sat up, considering what you were about to do next when a notification caught your attention. You had received a text from an unknown number. You unlocked your phone to delete it without thinking, expecting another scam, but your brain realised at the very last second that this might be relevant.

[unknown number] Hey, it’s Jacaerys, I hope you got home safe. I’m sending you the link to my google doc, I wrote down all of our ideas and I’ve started organising it a bit. I also threw a few possible theses, feel free to add other ideas! See you tomorrow!

You clicked on the link and gasped when you saw the fantastic work he had done. It was all neat, easy to understand, and his possible lines of argument were more than relevant. You hastened to answer.

[You] Wow, this is amazing, thank you so much for this work, how long did it take you? I don’t want to give the impression I’m slacking off. It’s really really great! See you tomorrow!

[Jacaerys] Thank you, it didn’t take me that long and don’t worry, if there’s one person I wouldn’t think slacks off, it’d be you

[You] Thanks again Jacaerys!

[Jacaerys] Come on, you can call me Jace

III.

You arrived at the library slightly before the time you and Jace had agreed on. The rain was pouring against the windows forming a soothing melody and the dark sky created a sombre, tense atmosphere which delighted you. You thought you’d have the opportunity to pick a table near the windows, yet you heard someone call your name softly. Turning around, you saw Jace waving in a more secluded part of the room.

You rolled your eyes and walked towards him. You were early and yet he was already there, leading you to seriously think he only cared about school. Perhaps he was the ghost of a student condemned to haunt the hallways forever, sometimes finding a victim to bother with his excellent grades and beautiful smile. At least that’d explain his work ethic and general knowledge, much easier to acquire after spending years in school.

He removed his bag from the chair next to him to invite you to sit there and you tried to ignore your increasing heartbeat as you settled down.

“How are you?” He asked after greeting you.

“Just another day,” you answered. “And you?”

After a brief small talk, you went back to your analysis. Your goal today was to define your line of argument and your thesis, after which you could both pick which parts to write and explain in front of the class. As you expected, the kind of intellectual chemistry that you had discovered yesterday was still there to the point your conversation digressed several times.

Nevertheless, you managed to work efficiently until the screen of Jace’s phone lit up.

“Wait I have a call, I’ll be right back,” he whispered. You gave him a thumbs up to let him know it was fine and he left the room taking long strides. You used this break to stretch and then decided to update Jace’s not on his computer, in return for the unexpected work he had done the day before. Without thinking, you went to the bottom of the page and added a small note.

“I’m starting to think that people are right when they say great minds think alike ;)”

You had barely finished typing that Jace entered the room again, and you hastily moved back to the top of the page. You felt a little silly, behaving like a teenage girl; fiddling with your hair trying to look as innocent as possible. By good luck, Jace did not notice your suspicious attitude and just shot you an apologetic look.

“I’m really sorry but I have to go early,” he explained. “My step-sister was supposed to bring our little brother home from daycare but she doesn’t have a car and it’s raining too hard for her to walk him home, so I’m gonna pick him up.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I think we’re good to go anyway, and we can text if we have another idea. I’m gonna walk home as well.”

You started putting your stuff away but interrupted your action when you felt Jace’s stare. You raised your head, tilting it in a silent interrogation.

“You’re gonna walk under this torrential rain?”

You chuckled. “It’s fine Jace, I have my umbrella.”

The boy shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest in a way that made it hard not to look at his muscles beneath his shirt. “I can give you a ride.”

“It’s okay, really-”

“What if you catch pneumonia and miss the presentation?”

You looked at the boy, astounded, before sighing. Of course, he was motivated by school. How dare you believe – or rather hope – that he had your best interest in mind.

“Nothing I can say will change your mind…” You guessed.

“How clever. Just tell me where I can drop you.”

As you sat inside his car, you tried to swallow your bitterness. Even if his action was not selfless, you were still grateful he had made that offer. You had to walk for at least twenty minutes to get home, and your old umbrella would not have been a great help against the gusts of wind that flooded the pavement.

As you buckled up, you tried to initiate a conversation that was unrelated to your assignment, the silence too awkward for you to sit in.

“So…” you started, “I didn’t know you had siblings.”

Jace chuckled. “My family’s a little messy.”

“Really?” You turned your head to look at him and found yourself in awe of his side profile. He must have felt your gaze because he quickly glanced at you and you looked away, cheeks heating up, like a toddler caught red-handed.

“My mother had me and my two younger brothers, and then she married my step-father who already had two daughters, and together they had two more boys.”

“Wow,” was all you found to say at the moment. “That’s a lot. I guess it means the house is never quiet.”

“You can say that, yes.” He hesitated. “I love them all, really, they’re great, but sometimes it gets…”

“Overwhelming?”

“A bit.” He nodded. “And it comes with a lot of unexpected events, like this one.”

“It’s still sweet,” you commented, “that you did not hesitate a second.”

Jace chuckled. “I was not gonna let Rhaena get drenched or Aegon wait in daycare.”

“Some would have.”

Jace opened his mouth to say something, sighed, and closed his mouth, which amused you.

“What were you going to say?” You asked.

The boy shot you a surprised look.

“I really have to be careful, you’re observant.” Your eyes fell to your lap and you bit your lip. “But I was just gonna argue that my attitude should be the standard, though you complimenting me is such a rare event, I changed my mind.”

You snorted. “Now you’re gonna make me feel bad.” You left a pause. “If you’re so desperate for praise, then listen: I frankly admire how you seem to care about your family and still find the time to be on top of almost all of our classes. Almost.”

You saw a lopsided smile appear on his face and smirked.

“Almost, yes, I get it,” he answered. “I still have to beat you in history, but I promise my next essay will blow the teacher’s mind.” You both laughed. “You’re right though, I’m busy. I try to spend time with my siblings – partly to alleviate a bit my mom and step-father work, but I also want to hang out with my friends and everything.”

You groaned. “How do you juggle with all of this? You must have a secret. Can you freeze time of something?”

“Trust me I wish. And you, do you have any siblings?”

The conversation kept going and you felt increasingly relaxed. His car was comfortable, the sound of the rain was lulling you, and Jace turned out to be a conversationalist. He asked questions with a genuine interest and his own anecdotes were memorable. You felt like you knew him better after this fifteen minutes drive than after a year and a half in the same class. When you reached your house, you regretted living so close from your school. You did not want the discussion to end and would have done anything to stay a little longer.

You opened the door, the cool air outside slapping your face, harsh contrast with the warmth that had settled in the vehicle.

“Thanks again,” you smiled and Jace smiled in return, this simple thing brightening up the passenger compartment.

“No problems. It was nice chatting with you.”

“It was.” You kept looking into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before snapping out of your trance. “You should not keep your brother waiting for any longer.”

“You’re right.”

You closed the door and ran towards the porch of the house, carefully avoiding falling onto the slippery pavement. Once sheltered, you turned towards the road and waved at Jace who waved back before starting the car again. You watched the vehicle disappear in the fog that had fallen on the city.

You remained distracted for the whole evening, listening absentmindedly to your family during dinner, but it was only when your back hit your bed that you realised you were looking forward to your next work session with Jace.

IV.

You took a deep breath and read your notes yet another time.

“I’m starting to think my part is terrible.” You moaned. “I’m dragging your work down.”

Jacaerys, sat next to you in the library, whispered your name.

“You’re fine,” he told you. “Really, I’ve read your part, you’ve read mine, we both did a great job and we’re gonna earn a great grade.”

You sighed. “How do you know?”

“Because,” Jace closed his laptop, “I see you freak out in the hallway before every exam, and yet you always get good grades.”

You gave him a soft smile, touched by his attempt at comforting you, but this smile faltered when you realised what he had implied.

“Wait, how often are you observing me for you to say that?”

“You’re pacing back and forth, it’s hard not to notice you,” he answered quickly, on the defensive, and with a confidence that did not manage to hide the blush that was spreading across his face.

You held his gaze back for a second, feeling irresistibly drawn to him. He was close, close enough for you to admire the details of his face, his long lashes, his freckles, all of the small features you had failed to notice for so long. He was staring back, a glimmer in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher but that made your heart do a somersault, and for a second you thought that perhaps something could happen when someone dropped a book in the library and you jerked away from him.

“I,” you stuttered. “I need to use the bathroom. I don’t want to be bothered during our presentation.”

Jace squinted, frowned for a second, and nodded. “Sure, no problems.”

You almost ran outside of the room, feeling your cheeks growing hot. The stress was driving you crazy, making you act in a way that was not who you were supposed to be. Sure, Jace had been nice to you for a week. He was funny and seemed to be a good person. And he was incredibly handsome, of course. But since when were your standards so low that you had a crush on a guy just for those reasons?

You opened the door of the bathroom which was empty for once. You didn’t even need to use it, but you could use a little calm. There was something about the buzzing of the neon lights that was strangely soothing. You splashed some cold water on your face, feeling your heartbeat calm down, but the sudden opening of the door startled you.

“Oops, sorry,” the newcomer said, and you turned around when you recognised her voice.

“Helaena?”

“That’s me,” she approached to greet you. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for your presentation?”

You nodded, feeling the lump in your throat swelling. Your best friend tilted her head to the side, her hair falling from her shoulder like beams of moonlight. Her periwinkle eyes scanned you and she grabbed your hands. “Oh, you’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

You nodded again, the softness in her voice making your eyes wet.

“Did it go that badly? Was Jace rude or anything?”

“No,” you immediately corrected her. “He did a great job and he turned out to be… nicer than I expected. I’m just,” you exhaled. “I’m just stressed. You know what it is.”

“And did you tell him?”

“Not directly. He definitely noticed I was stressed out, although I tried to remain as composed as possible in front of him.”

A brief smile appeared on Helaena’s face, like lightning in the middle of the night.

“Maybe that’s why you’re in such a state, you let everything build up and it just got overwhelming.”

You bit your lip. Your best friend definitely had a point, but you had forgotten to mention the brief moment of tension that had contributed to your overall panic.

“Yeah,” you eventually admitted. “I guess I tried to be… cool? In front of him, I mean. It’s a bit silly.”

“Hum,” Helaena gave you a suspicious look you did not appreciate. “Why so?”

You shrugged, leaning against the cold sink. “I guess because he’s nice I don’t want to look like a loser. Don’t look at me like that,” you stopped your friend before she could say a word. “Maybe our rivalry was one-sided, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna be buddies and everything. I won’t be surprised if he stops talking to me the moment the assignment is done.”

“I don’t understand why he’d do that. From what you told me, you seemed to get along pretty well.”

“He’s popular,” you sighed, exasperated. “He gets along pretty well with everyone, doesn’t mean those connections are meaningful and lasting.”

Helaena crossed her arms over her chest. “Yet you wish yours could be?”

You hesitated a second. “Well, I think we could be friends, yes.”

The ghost of a smile appeared on your friend’s face. “I think so too.” She got closer to give you a side hug. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“I guess so? Talking to you usually has this effect.”

Helaena cooed. “You’re flattering me. Now get back there and show everyone how great of a student you are. And,” she called your name softly, “don’t pretend with him. You’re my coolest friend, if he doesn’t see it, it’s his loss. Although I do think he sees it.”

You pressed your lips into a thin smile. “Thank you Helaena.”

“You’re welcome,” she blew you a kiss and you left the bathroom feeling more at peace than you were when you entered. Being able to talk freely had taken a weight off your shoulders – though you felt a bit guilty for the moment you had avoided mentioning. You still needed to think about it once you had some peace and quiet, probably sleep on it and see if it was the product of your stress or a sign of something rooted more deeply.

When you sat next to Jace again, the first thing you noticed was the worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He immediately asked and you nodded with all of your energy to reassure him.

“Don’t worry. There was just a line.”

He accepted your lie without asking any questions. You went to grab your notes but he stopped you mid-action.

“I think you’re good. I’ve heard you rehearse and you knew your subject. Reading it again is just gonna stress you out.”

You sighed. “You’re probably right. I think my brain cannot absorb any information right now.” You checked the time on your phone. “We still have twenty minutes before class begins, what do you want to do?”

“Well, right now I would mind a coffee. Can I pay you a drink?”

“The coffee machine has been repaired?”

“I have no idea,” Jace chuckled and stood up. “But I’m willing to find out. So,” he landed you a hand, “wanna come?”

You looked at his hand; the infinity of possibilities it represented, and tried to repress the butterflies in your stomach as you seized it.

˖ ࣪⭑

When Mrs River called your and Jace’s names, you walked towards the front of the class with the excitement of an inmate before their last meal. You made sure to take deep breaths to avoid getting into another panic attack, and Jace must have noticed this because he quickly squeezed your shaky hand with a smile. You swallowed your stress and smiled back before turning towards the class.

Your presentation went well. The hours spent working had created a familiarity with the book and made your analysis all the more convincing. You managed to stop reading your notes as the sentences you had carefully written flew into your mind. You echoed and referred to some of Jace’s arguments, showing the teacher that you had worked together and collaborated just as she had required. When she commented on your assignment at the end, she did not spare you but there was a slight smile on her face that was rare enough for you to take pride in it.

When she finally let you rejoin your seats, you did not waste a second and rushed towards your chair, dropping your notes on the table and sighing all of the pressure away. You glanced at Jace who gave you a thumbs up from the other side of the room and you mirrored him before shifting your focus to the pair that was about to speak.

After two or three more presentations, Helaena nudged you gently to catch your attention. You turned your head towards her and noticed she was pointing at your notes. You frowned, not understanding what she meant, and your gaze dropped to the Bristol card. There was a note at the very bottom; written with a pencil, small and neat compared to your highlighted and crossed-out notes.

Only two people could have written it; Helaena or Jace. Your best friend could have easily stolen your notes while you were busy listening to your classmates, while Jace had been alone with your notes for several minutes when you were in the bathroom. It made more sense for Helaena to write it, you two often communicated this way during class if you wanted to remain discrete, but her pencil case was closed.

Rather than keep on speculating this way, you grabbed your notes and read the text. You had to squint to decipher it; whoever had written had put as little pressure on their pencil as possible. Still, you managed to read word by word that one sentence that set your heart ablaze.

“still wanna study with me in the library sometimes?”

You had a crush on Jace. That was it, such a simple sentence that still had been torturing you for almost a whole month. The rainy and orange October days had made way for a dry, chilly and brown November that seemed to match your mood.

You had truly hoped that the wave of joy Jace had ignited in you, that the butterflies and the fluster were all temporary. Yet, you had been forced to admit to an unimpressed Helaena that your feelings were getting stronger and stronger each time you joined him in the library to study and chat, and that terrified you.

You did not properly talk outside of class, he’d sometimes send you a message about something you might find interesting, and you’d do the same, but your exchanges had not gotten any more intimate for better or for worse. You wished you could spend more time by his side, maybe recreate this one scene before the presentation which had not left your thoughts since; but you were scared that your lovesickness would show through your giggles, freak him out and permanently damage your blossoming friendship.

“It’s never going to be reciprocal,” you had moaned to Helaena during the sleepover when you finally talked about your crush.

The girl had immediately refuted this statement, reminding you that you were a smart, beautiful, nice and funny young woman, but none of these qualities seemed enough at the moment. Jace could have easily seduced any girl – or boy – in your class so why would he settle for you?

You were convinced he saw you as a friend with whom he still shared a sort of rivalry; rivalry which had become way more light-hearted than before; perhaps you had a special status, but it would never be that special. Everything you learned about the boy made you want him a little more – the complicated relationship he had with father figures, his love for pets and their names or the importance of his friendship with Cregan.

Cregan had become friends with Helaena over the assignment and you both discovered the advantages that came with your newly found “popularity”. People had stopped picking on your best friend and even started to admire her knowledge of insects, considering it a quirk and not a sign of madness, while you got invited to many social events, though you declined most of them (partly because Helaena was not going to parties, and you weren’t going without her).

This time, however, your best friend had convinced you to go to Cregan’s house party. She believed it was a great occasion to see Jace in an informal setting and perhaps get closer to him. You thought the idea was a little silly, but gave in to Helaena’s convincing arguments and the promise that she’d braid your hair with one of those complex hairstyles you admired so much.

When you were getting ready, you thought this party could actually be fun. You wanted to look pretty, neat and tidy, but not too neat and tidy so people would think you had spent hours getting ready – which was in fact the case. To look casual, but not too casual, when in fact even the strands of hair that escaped for your braid had been carefully styled to frame your face in the most flattering way possible. You had put on music, laughed with your friend, and considered this might be the funniest part of the evening.

You were now convinced it was the funniest part. In the middle of the house, surrounded by people you had never really talked to, you felt silly with your strands of hair and your lip gloss. The alcohol in your drink tasted bitter, but you didn’t know where you could get rid of it without being seen. You weren’t drunk enough to put your anxiety aside and go talk to people, but you weren’t sure you’d be sober enough to leave the party and drive home. You probably could have joined Cregan, who was a friendly acquaintance and could have helped you join conversations, but you were scared of being a burden to him.

Your best option now seemed to sober up until you could go home and find the comfort of your bed. You sought the cold hair of the night, even if it was harsh and slapping your cheeks, for it helped you come to your senses. Cregan’s parents had a luxurious garden but it was now filled with drunk classmates and was the last place you wanted to visit. However, you had noticed at your arrival that there were a few balconies. If you were correct, they were linked to the bedrooms and so you began wandering inside the house to find access outside.

The house did not seem so big during the day, but now that you were alone and using your phone as a flashlight to avoid raising suspicions, it seemed like a castle or worse, a labyrinth. After a few minutes of walking in the dark, hearing and feeling the bass of the amps through the walls, you finally found an empty bedroom with a glass door opening onto the balcony you were dreaming of.

You leaned against the fence, filling your lungs with the cold air of the night that got your blood pumping. Your breath came out with a small puff of steam. The music and voices seemed so far away, indistinguishable buzzing at the back of your mind. You took in the sight of the city by night, the lights of the buildings from afar with the occasional blue and red siren. It was lively, chaotic, and yet at this moment, formed an oasis of peace.

“Are you hiding?”

Jace’s voice coming from behind startled you. You turned around, pressing your hand against your panicked heart. Too lost in your daydream, you had not heard him coming.

“You almost gave me a heart-attack!”

Jace chuckled, taking a step closer. Bathed in moonlight, he seemed to be an ethereal being. His features appeared softer with the pale light, yet his eyes seemed as bright as ever. He was not taking his eyes off you, but it did not give you the feeling of being ogled.

“Sorry about that. At least I can say I set your heart racing.”

Perhaps the little alcohol in your blood was finally having an effect, but you felt bolder all of a sudden. In a normal setting, you probably would have looked away, cleared your throat and changed the subject, but this time you found the strength to maintain eye contact.

“You’d like that?”

The boy seemed taken aback for a second, then amusement shined in his eyes and a smile spread on his lips.

“Maybe,” he murmured and took a sip from his drink. “You didn’t answer my initial question though.”

“I’m not hiding, I’m just taking a break.”

“Sounds like hiding to me.” He leaned by your side. “Overwhelmed?”

You nodded. “I’m not really friends with anyone here so it’s a bit awkward.”

Jace nodded in return. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here. In a good way, I mean.”

You couldn’t mask the smile on your face. “I’d hope so. Were you really that surprised?”

Jace tilted his head to the side. “Honestly yes.”

“Why so?”

“I never really pictured you in this environment. You always seemed too… I don’t know, serious? You don’t exactly remind me of party girls.”

This sentence was like a cold shower. The alcohol had reinforced your emotions that came in waves crashing against the cliffs and leaving the beach destroyed once the tide had receded.

“You never stopped thinking I’m a goodie-two-shoes, did you?” You whispered without even realising it.

“What?”

Perhaps it was the fog that invaded your brain, perhaps it was disillusionment, perhaps it was an insecurity Jace had triggered, but your mouth slurred words out without giving you any chance to control them.

“I remember you calling me a goodie-two-shoes to your friends and although it was hurtful, I thought it was your loss if you didn’t know me, but I honestly thought you had moved on from those preconceived ideas.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Jace frowned. “Is that why you’ve been giving me dirty looks since last year? Just for this?”

“What do you mean ‘just for this’?” Your voice took a desperate tone.

“It was just a joke, I didn’t even know you were listening to me. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “You wouldn’t have said it, okay, that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t have thought it.”

“I said it like, one year ago, and you’ve remained hostile until our English assignment! For just one sentence?”

“Breaking news, words have consequences! When you say something super condescending and unfair, people are bitter, can’t believe it took you this long to learn that.”

Jacaerys sighed. He seemed more irritated than actually angry, and he closed his eyes to regain composure.

“Look, I’m sorry if what I said hurt you to the point you shoot daggers at me for a whole year afterwards. I didn’t think the term “goodie-two-shoes” was that hurtful, you make it sound like it’s a slur.”

“You really sound like a popular guy who has never been picked on in his life before you know?”

Your anger, or whatever it was, had decreased and now you were left with a hollow within your chest. You had really hoped for a minute, when he had flirted with you between the lines, that something might have been blossoming between the two; yet this single conversation felt like you were back to your relationship before the assignment, with your bitterness towards him. In a way, you just wanted him to truly apologise, forgive him and move on. Perhaps that was what had been stopping you from trying anything with him.

Jacaerys was looking at you and you were avoiding his gaze. Only the sounds of the city and the music were breaking the silence. Then out of the blue, you felt Jace’s hand on your shoulder, the warmth of his skin shielding you against the biting cold.

“I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories. Really. In my mind, it wasn’t that bad of a term,” he started explaining. “You were just so serious and nerdy, and I wanted to impress my friends. My goal was not to insult you whatsoever.”

You sighed. “We all are victims of peer pressure, aren’t we?” You marked a pause. “At least we cleared that out.”

“I don’t have any problem with people who are goodie-two-shoes, by the way. I like serious and nerdish girls.”

You jerked your head towards him only to see a smug smile on his face. As much as you wanted to remain a bit distant – just to teach him – you could help to find him irresistibly attractive and his smile was so contagious, you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Really? Do you have any other criteria?” You matched his flirty tone and turned your entire body to face him. That evening had been a roller coaster but if it could settle on this atmosphere, then maybe it had all been worth it.

“Is it too on the nose if I say I like girls who braid their hair? Especially considering it’s not your usual hairstyle.”

You couldn’t help but fiddle with your hair. “Helaena did it. So I assume you like it?”

“I do. It’s fancy, and it prevents strands of hair from hiding your face. This happens way too often and it’s a shame.”

As he said this sentence, he fixed a strand of hair that had managed to escape the intricate pattern of your braid. His hand brushed against your cheek and you melted in the contact as a shiver ran down your spine, which Jace noticed.

“Do you want to go back inside? It’s freezing out there.” He must have seen your hesitation because he took a step closer and immediately added, “I’m not letting you go.”

Beneath the gentleness of his promise, you recognised the distinctive sparkle of desire in his eyes and it set you ablaze. You went to reach for his hand which he let you do without resistance. If anything, he even got a little closer, to the point where your noses were almost touching.

You’re not even sure who closed the distance between you two. One second, you were scanning his eyes for the smallest sign he was about to pull back and reject you. The next second, his lips were on yours, warm and bitter from the alcohol and his hands fell possessively on your waist. All of a sudden he was everywhere, overwhelming your senses, and you would have spent a lifetime against his lips.

A giggle escaped your lips when you broke the kiss – or perhaps he broke it? You weren’t too sure anymore, this kiss had been more intoxicating than the alcohol at the party. Jace brought you a little closer, smiling from ear to ear.

You got on tiptoes and whispered: “Do you really care about the party?”

Jace’s smile grew devilish as he led you inside.

+ 1.

Sneaking Jace into your house had been fun and exciting – you had both agreed that it was a much better idea than to sneak inside his house with all of his siblings. You had chuckled on the way and blessed the fact that your parent’s bedroom was on the opposite side as yours.

The things that had ensued were exactly what you had been expecting when Jace led you through the house to get to his car – after swearing he was sober enough to drive. Actually no, they had surpassed your expectations. He had been soft, and unrelenting, and had sent you over the edge.

However, one thing that was not a part of the plans you had made while observing Jace’s perfect side profile during the ride home was how much you would talk.

You have no idea how long you remained in his arms, your back against his chest, talking. You felt safe and comforted in his embrace, the darkness and the stillness of the bedroom making it ideal for late-night confessions. You had talked about everything, from school to your friends, your insecurities and your dreams and everything that crossed your mind. You had even brought back this debate over the best Greek romance, speaking about it in an appeased way until sunlight poked through the windows.

You both fell asleep when the sun began rising in the sky, still cuddling – it was like you were made for this, your bodies fitting perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. When you opened your eyes again, the room was filled with light. You freaked out for a second when you felt hands around your waist, but memories from last night assailed your mind and you calmed down, matching Jace’s serene heartbeat.

He woke up not long after, greeting you with an endearing awkwardness, and you did your best to make him feel comfortable. Fortunately, your parents had already left – it was common for them to work on the weekends, leaving you alone in the house – and you cooked breakfast together. This little moment of domesticity left you longing for more, more quick glances, more arms brushing against the other, more lopsided smiles.

Still, the tension, barely perceptible, had not entirely left as you enjoyed your meal. Conversations went smoothly, jumping from one subject to the other without a significant gap, yet none of them mentioned the elephant in the room – what had happened between you two and more importantly, what you were going to do next.

Things did look better in the morning, and it was clear now that was you felt towards Jace was more than simple attraction. You liked him, if not more, and the idea of being in an official relationship was tempting. Asking him, though, was out of the question. You could handle being a one-time thing with him, but you’d forever regret scaring him off with your desire for commitment. No matter how hard you tried to scan him and his body language, you could not read his feelings and were left wandering, a soft torture made out of knife-winged butterflies.

You told Jace he could take a shower and used this time to text Helaena and ask her for advice, rushing to your phone and typing as fast as possible, relying on your friend to decipher your typos. The sound of the water running stopped after a few minutes and you couldn’t help your thoughts from drifting to the boy, and how he must look like covered in water. With the darkness of the night, you had only caught a glimpse of his body yet you knew that it was a sight you could not tired of.

You chatted for a few more minutes, standing in front of each other several feet apart, like a glass window was separating you. You wanted to offer him to stay for the afternoon, maybe watch a film, but Jace had told you he was going to go before.

Reluctantly, you had accompanied him to your front door. You had lost all hope that he might want something more. If that was the case, he would have said something already, wouldn’t he? Yet there was a longing in his eyes as you looked at each other on the threshold, an intensity you could only assimilate to your own.

You were about to close the door when he said your name softly, like a prayer. You interrupted your motion, looking back at him.

“Yes?” You answered in the same tone.

“It’s just…” He hesitated. I doubt you’re interested but if you ever wanna go out with me as a date and not just a hang-out…”

“Jace,” you interrupted him. “Do you think I’m not interested in you? And there I thought I acted like a lovesick teenager whenever I was around you,” a nervous laugh escaped your throat. “I would be more than happy to go out with you.”

You saw tension disappear from Jace’s body in a subtle manner, the unclenching of his jaw, the small sigh that left his lips. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now, I can’t believe I lost that much time,” he confessed.

You took a step towards him to place your hand on his forearm. “It’s okay. I also believed you weren’t interested in me.”

“Great minds think alike, right?” He winked, quoting the sentence you had left on his Google doc, and the memory of this foolish action flustered you.

“Apparently so.”

“I’d like to take you on a date, soon. Call me old-fashioned, but I meant to do things well, not cutting corners. What happened yesterday was unexpected. Welcomed, but unexpected.”

You giggled. “Then I’m free tomorrow, gentleman.”

“I’ll pick you up at two?”

“Sounds great. See you tomorrow” You smiled at him and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before closing the door with a cheesy smile on your lips that matched Jace’s.

You wandered in the empty house for a few minutes on cloud nine until your phone buzzed in your pocket. You grabbed it absentmindedly and your smile widened when you read the message you had received.

[Jace] See you tomorrow princess

taglist: @housetargaryenloyalist @v3lary0ns @vee-mage @cregnstark @eldrith @benjinotes @divinesolas @astrxq

#hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys fluff #academic rivals to lovers

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noisyquokka · 11 months

Text

October Eyes

PAIRING - Minho x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Every inch of him is beautiful and captivating to you, always and forever. But his eyes. Oh, his eyes...

WORDCOUNT - 1.4k

WARNINGS - Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, kinda lovey-dovey, teasing if you squint, two (2) idiots hopelessly in love with each other

A/N - My little addition for Lino Day! Enjoy, Darlings!

It's somewhere between mid morning and noon with the way the sun bleeds light into the living room. Not that you care, oh, no. Not when you have the perfect view at this moment in time.

Your head is resting against his thigh, his current read propped up on the other. Your body has settled into the cushions beneath you, your heels digging into the fibers. Brown eyes flit across the page they're on, blinking closed every few seconds as if to hide from your adoring gaze. It's cat-like in nature; a contented half-lidded slip that has your fingers twitching to run through the dark tresses that frame his face.

"You're staring again."

He hasn't looked your way, but he can feel your eyes on him. Your lips twitch in a half grin.

"Am I?"

Time almost comes to a standstill as you slowly drink him in. You know every detail of his face like the back of your hand; the way his brows sit above those amber eyes, arching higher when you make a snide remark or he's being cheeky. Feline eyes that carry an impossible intensity. How they shine like fool's gold when they settle on you.

Another blink. Slender fingers twitching between your own. Cat eyes shifting.

You look away, back to your own book propped up on your knees. There's always a sharpness to his gaze — so precise as to shatter you like glass. Brown eyes hold you in their focus and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep your eyes on the book in your lap, turning a page with your free hand.

Minho is a patient man, he could wait for your eyes to meet his again. He could wait for minutes, hours, weeks. Years. But he doesn't, not at this moment.

His novel closes, the pages whispering their inked words into the crown of your skull with the force. You blink but you don't look away from your book, turning the page as if you're properly comprehending anything your pupils sweep across. Fingers brush against the flesh of your jaw, tapping softly under your chin to get your attention. That move. That move always works on you, and it's no different now. Eyelids flutter open as you tilt your head back to meet maple and cinnamon.

Your mind is somewhere entirely different now, as if Minho is the Sun and you're the planets that revolve around him. You breathe inward, the soft noises of the outside world seeping in but becoming nothing more than background static as your attention is captured once again. His body wash floods your nostrils.

"What's got you so enamored with me, Baby?" The way he asks is cocky in that signature Lee Minho way, a dark brow shooting up in question.

"Many, many things." You hum, letting your book fall between your thigh and the sofa. His right hand finds your left, fingers lacing together, wrapping over the skin in a sure squeeze. Your thumb grazes his knuckles in response.

"Enlighten me, would you?" His voice is a smooth, velvety croon, traveling through your ears. Messing with your brainwaves in the best way. His mouth curves into a smirk as he speaks, those tiny divots creasing at the corners of his lips. It's such a simple thing, small and inconspicuous when he smiles. But you notice it. You adore it.

"It's those eyes of yours," you murmur, your tone delicate as you study the man that gazes upon you. "Your eyes are like a deep forest, a mystery that pulls and pulls. Intimidating as a mountain lion. But lucky for you, I don't back down from a little mystery. Once you get through the darkness, they're the river that carries and cradles the forest's autumn leaves. They're dappled sunlight through a jar of honey. Just as warm and sweet. And that mountain lion? Just a tortoiseshell cat searching for a warm lap to curl up in."

You're rambling like a poet, passionately and ever longing for your muse. Every inch of him is beautiful and captivating to you, always and forever. But his eyes.

Oh, his eyes.

Your heart flutters in your chest, your brows twitching as you study his face.

Minho shakes his head slightly, and you have to suppress a gasp as he lifts you onto his lap, your hands clinging to him instinctively. Your words make Minho's stomach flip, a deep shiver rising up from it as your fingers twine tighter with his. He gives you a look, as if he's trying desperately to figure you out despite years of being together.

"I'd sell my soul to understand what goes on in that mind of yours." He says, voice soft, whispery. A crisp Autumn breeze on the lake, inviting goosebumps over your skin. Yet you feel warm having him so close to you, his hands running the span of your back. Your lips twitch up, fingers coming up to trail his jaw.

"Why sell your soul when you can hear every little thought straight from the source?"

"What else do you love about me, then?" His head shifts, a little light spark in those bourbon eyes at your gaze.

And you would. God, you would spill your guts just to see him glow with affection. But it seems that your little poetry session has ended because the words fail to come to you. You know exactly how much of your own emotions are written all over your face in this moment, and you make no attempt to hide it from him. You allow yourself to stare with soft eyes, smiling like a lovesick fool. Minho's hand runs along your back, fingers dancing down your spine.

"You."

The word is said with the utmost certainty, your eyes drifting to Minho's lips. "Every part of you."

Your lack of words are made up for with touches, hands caressing your Lover's skin with attentive care as they brush past a sharp jaw and collarbones.

It's intimate. You're not pawing at each other in a sexual haze. This isn't about lust and desire. It's intimate in the way two souls weave into one another after lifetimes apart; deep and delicate and raw and heavy. Safe. Sacred.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your entire body feeling lighter with each brush of Minho's hand along your skin. Your fingers trail up the side of his face, the palm of your hand pressing against the skin as you gently caress his cheekbone with your thumb. You know that what you're doing would make most partners feel insecure, but Minho presses into those touches like a needy feline. Holds your gaze as if there's nothing else on the planet to distract him from you, unabashed by all the attention you're happily giving him. Your chest rises and falls with your breaths, his thumb drawing tiny patterns into the soft flesh of your hip.

"I feel it's only fair to ask what you love about me?" You say, lashes fluttering as you lean back in his hold, draping your neck over the armrest of the couch.

Minho smiles down at you, that half-grin he often sports in your company making its way onto his face. He shifts so he's leaning closer to you, his breath hot on your neck as he speaks just above a whisper.

"Everything. Your eyes… your laugh… that little grin you give me when I try to kiss you- there it is," He leans in to press his lips to yours, smiling into it when you laugh between kisses. He leans back just enough to lock eyes with you again, those browns all consuming. "...the way you look at me… like I've created the universe just for you. I love everything about you."

You're looking up at him with stars in your eyes, completely and utterly devoid of anything other than a soul shattering affection as Minho's words sink in. His freehand comes to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you up to press a kiss to your forehead. It's long and lingering as he breathes you in, your pulse steady under his fingertips. Your lashes flutter at the contact.

"Love you." You mumble, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

"I love you."

You lean back into Minho's embrace, basking in the heat of his body and the softness of his touch. His gentle smile is like a warm blanket, wrapping you in a familiarity that's as cozy as any real fleece. It's intimate, but not like before. There are no long gazes or deep sighs, just the quiet comfort of being near each other.

Minho's hand rests over your shoulders and you lean into the gentle affection, your forehead resting against his chest. His breathing slows as the two of you sink into each other's embrace, October eyes watching over you as you begin to doze off.

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

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wisteriainslumber · 4 months

Text

baby twst headcanons

happy mothers day, have some disorganized tiny shenanigans feat. the twst women warnings: ch7 spoilers for draconia family members, siblings lying for fun (borderline malicious behaviour), foul language, and maybe a teensybitoftraumaoopsies

Riddle

if he could, he'd be an outside kid with tons of bug friends

secretly kept a caterpillar pet in a lil terrarium jar until it could fly on its own

he found it while it was raining outside and wanted to help it grow :(

my guy was a sickly victorian child

rarely would three months go by without riddle falling ill

he has dyslexia. without the pressure of having to get everything right on the first try, riddle can kinda enjoy reading now because he gets to learn new words and concepts at his own pace

deep in the corner of his room sits a journal with only half if it filled out. most of the entries start like 'i read a new book today' immediately followed by something like 'i do not understand life'

he actually can't bear to read the contents of the more recent diaries, but he equally can't bear to throw them away (not until he can send his younger self a letter that it will all be okay)

his only connection to other people his age were trey and che'nya

and on the occasions where trey was absent che'nya would 'teach riddle about the queendom of roses'

most of the time he fed him lies and riddle believed him

and most of the time riddle would yell at che'nya for being confusing and not clear enough

you can't just tell him that the hat man haunts him at night then reply with "what hat man?" when riddle asks for clarification

like !!! the hat man you just told him about !! (which gets him a reply of "who told you about?" damn you che'nya)

his favourite childhood memory was going out with them to get matching pins together

he still wears his little crown pin today!!

cats would frequently perch on his windowsill and riddle likes to watch them lounge in the sun and wonder what cats think about

(che'nya claims to know but riddle has never seen the beastman talk to a single cat)

but kitty-speak was riddle's first learned animal linguistic. he would practice by talking to the regular cat by the window

it stopped showing up for a while and then came back with four kittens and riddle smuggled them for a good... three anxiety-riddled hours before telling the cat their babies will be well taken care of with che'nya instead

riddle may had to give up those kittens that day but owning a pet cat will be in his future soon. #manifest

Trey

it was a massive game of follow the leader in the clover household

when mama clover was carrying flour over to the patisserie, you'll see the mini clovers carrying small bowls and utensils to help

easy bake oven user

but he was ass at it

legend says his unique magic manifested at age 10 when it was mommas birthday and he baked a really shitty cookie, so he prayed to the queen that his mum would think it tasted nice and it did :D

his siblings took a bite out of the rest of the batch and wretched very dramatically

had his hands full trying to convince che'nya to not eat the glass he found on the sidewalk because it 'looks crunchy'

in fact, whenever talking to adults, trey never refers to che'nya by his nickname but his entire full name. he just wants you to know!! also che'nya is a nickname for friends and family >:(

trey's room has always been free reign for his other siblings, they treat it like a common room

why? mostly because they don't have permission to do anything fun without supervision but big brother trey can to be their supervision :)) right :)))

the clover household is no longer shocked by che'nyas abrupt presence in their house. he seems to favour a certain corner of the house and most of the material on trey's bed

theres usually an extra set of utensils by their table in case che'nya appears. there used to be two extra sets but.. you know🫠

his siblings started a game of hiding as many rubber ducks in trey's room without him noticing

but after they permanently clogged the pipes of the toilet with their duckies, they switched to ugly stickers all over trey's bicycle

howEVER, it happens to be their bicycle now because trey outgrew it and had to get a new one. have fun cleaning the stickers :D

unofficial designated seats at the table and in the family car. real fights have broken out over the siblings because of these spots

still fears basketballs to this day because his brother threw one and trey happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and he woke up with the wrong accent. oh, and a concussion

Cater

all brands but barbie was ruined for caycay

his sisters used him as a mannequin to practice makeup

he had extremely elaborate revenge plans to pin them on the other sister but would get his ass whooped if he was caught

of course, that never stopped him from being extremely crafty to get out of trouble :)

referring to himself in third person cutely was a learned behaviour for survival™

it never worked in his household but it surely worked with other kids his age

collecting pity points but at what cost

had a girlfriend on club penguin for two months and got publicly dumped on club penguin

banned from club penguin because he wouldnt leave her alone and she reported him

sold off his sisters rainbow looms

those kids that are cognitively gifted such as he thought the people in the tv were trapped in there and then asked his mom if they were also in a tv and trapped

whenever dad worked in the office, cater would sit in the big boss chair and 'help', which meant that he was sorting coins and bills based off colour

he also told his dad to wash the money because it looked dirty on the corners

whenever he and his sisters played together, they'd tried to open the compartments of their toys and cater had so much fun with the screwdriver and taking stuff apart

also owned a joint notebook with his sisters. there would be things like poems, drawings, and the hair of ruined barbie dolls taped inside

cater has his own journal though, and he composes very emo poems in there. all written in glitter gel pen. cater would later look back on these and cringe but the more you read, the more you kinda get into it. it is a tad bit profound... for an eight year old, that is

Ace

demented ass doll player

his version of fun was making his dolls de-limb each other and throw them into a big pit to summon his darth vador figurine

whatever in-game ace is, that was his brother except he was significantly worse

my boy ace was the number 1 victim of big bro trappola

ate brown paint chips, which was 'chocolate' according to his brother

was locked inside the bathroom while his brother whispered bloody mary into the walls

sat through horror movies to prove he was a big boy and shit his pants when his brother recreated the jumpscares in the middle of the night

until he got a little older and started outsmarting him

now the trappola brothers team up to terrorize everyone else

its a competition for the brothers to compete over who can spoil the plot of which movie first

weaponized the slap bracelets

sucked milk out of plushies. no i will not elaborate

he's a jump rope champion! and it carries over to those skipper hoops as well

he does prefer the skipper hoops over the rope simply because there are um... ankle shattering consequences if you miss a jump, which meant it was perfect for sharing with the neighbourhood kids! gotta keep those stakes high, ya know?

tried to do a lot of magic tricks to impress papa trappola

made his brother take him to the amusement park and big bro got MAD tips because everyone thought ace was so cute, and quote unquote 'an angel'

like NO HES NOT???? if only big brother trappola knew ace picked up his charisma from him😭

Deuce

grew up with 80s movies, he thinks every that happens in those movies are true stories

he was always presented with old gadgets to 'fix' so its now something he can do pretty well; restoring old devices

the kids his age thought he was like wayyy too old fashioned, like born in the wrong generation

bike kid. if he wasnt inside he was on wheels

he kept a barbie doll in his bike basket and always made sure she wore her helmet (she was the bike guard)

slept with eggs and held them in his hands hoping to hatch a baby chick

thinks teachers live at the school

super sweet child. he's the first at the other kids' side if they got hurt

at the same time he is the biter kid. especially on fathers day

loves reading stories with grandma. whenever she came over, he would bring her a book

he'd also stick around the kitchen and try to see what she was doing. he thought that maybe he could learn to cook a few things by himself so they had more time together

in times like these he would be internally angry at his father because?? grandma is always working, mum is always working, fuck that guy specifically.

easter is his favourite holiday. his family have a tradition of egg painting and deuce used to hide caramel candies in them because grandma liked them

best helper kid around. will hold the dustpans and stuff while Dilah was sweeping

knew the names of all the trucks his mum drove and also a lot of the mechanical part names

had a habit of accidentally breaking things like clocks so he learned quickly how to fix them back up

his grandma takes him shopping for stamps so deuce can send mail to his house, addressed to his mum

Leona

parkour child

bounced all around the palace, climbing the trees outside and everything. gotta keep those claws sharp

before his father fell ill, the kingscholar family used to have lil picnics with Kifaji outside

without fail, leona would always find the highest seat or a nice sun rock to rest upon

unconsciously, even now, leona finds immense comfort in sun rocks

followed his brother around everywhere

when he couldn't catch up, Falena would give him piggy back rides while he was going about his day

asked him many questions bc hes curious about the world

would ask him difficult questions he already knew the answer to just to see Falena struggle lol

whenever tiny leona got tuckered out, his brother would carry him back to bed in lieu of the servants

leona insisted on sitting in the conference room with his dad to gain insight on how kingdom affairs were run

papa kingscholar agreed since it would be good exposure for them, and leona was the one who took notes, Falena would point out the participants at the table and quietly introduce them to leona

ruined the lives of people he played chess with. imagine being bested by a nine year old in chess. the shame.

after Falena got married, leona shifted his studies from maintaining amicable kingdom relationships to medicinal research and ancient curses

the palace staff thought it was out of malice, but leona wanted to focus more on the properties of magic now

(and also, well, based on the new target on his brother, his new sister-in-law, and his nephew, there can never be too many precautions..)

even when he was a tiny child he did whatever he fancied

his servants may have told him that tending to a servant's hair was below his stature but that only made him sneakier when making tiny braids in Kifaji's hair

git gud g

Ruggie

another crafty child

aye, when it depends on your survival, you learn to use those legs of yours to run like the wind

even worse he was a small ass child so he was hard to find

snuck into schools and pretended he could talk to ghosts and charged the kids a quarter to talk to a ghost for them

mental math god. from multiplication to geometry and time, ruggie knows the most efficient ways to get the job done, as well as a few backup plans

would sew up little felt dolls for his neighbourhood friends

left the house to do a bunch of odd jobs and picked up quite a few languages, which meant even more jobs all around, and now he has some pretty unique talents

like, he can preform acrobat tricks! and he can also paint a house upside down. oh, and he can travel quickly on one foot! (don't ask)

oh yeah, ruggie had a huge slime stand

he would make so much slime and sell it off and it made mad bucks but he also absolutely hated slime. what a good waste of detergent and glue, honestly... >:(

and people wanted them different colours and with charms and the like. at least it was a thriving market, but ruggie cannot stand the sight of slime ever since he retired from the slime scene

really liked rubiks cubes because it was like painting a little puzzle. also, when the children got bored of it, they would try to detach the squares and put them on the faces they desired

it was so funny to watch because they will use the oddest tools and tricks to dislodge the squares (like tying a shoelace around a square and trying to tug it off like you do with baby teeth)

ruggie also made lots of origami as seasonal decor :D his grandma really like the flowers and birds he would fashion

this IS canon but i want you to know that he would take the neighbourhood kids and rotate the group around houses in different costumes to get more halloween candy. everyone stan ruggie

Jack

he has younger siblings so his sense of justice was in his personality wayy back then

got to be an exemplar big bro for them💪

whenever they were playing castle, jack was always the princess because his sister wanted to be the heroic knight

if you asked jack, he would say that his sister only wanted to be the knight as an excuse to beat the shit out of his brother

wanted piercings but couldnt get them pierced so his sister gave him sticker earrings

they did not work nor stick very well but he loved him

let his siblings bite him, it seems to be their preferred mode of affection

sometimes they will wordlessly enter his room just to bite him and chill

often had playdates with vil when he was home

jack still doesn't quite know what the difference was between all these water brands vil was showing him but the spirit is there

oftentimes vil was alone in the house so the two played grown up and cooked by themselves

vil had told his dad that they were married because jack would come over and had sleepovers a lot

jack has a big green thumb. he wanted to plant a garden but he started with succulents first because they are notoriously hard to kill

by now he's ready to advance but every time he goes to get different plants, he comes back with more succulents haha

the plants under jack's care are happy enough to bloom flowers, and he gives them to his mama

if vil learned a spell, he would teach jack and vice versa. the BIGGEST supporters of each other. friendship is magic, guys

the first time they learned colour changing spells was an entire mess and vil was bawling in a panic by the end of it because they dyed Eric Venue's favourite couch bright blue and didn't know how to reverse it

jack wanted to call vil's dad to tell him but he ended up calling the wrong number and thought they were in trouble so he ended up bawling too

whenever vil wasn't in the class, no doubt jack is going to question his whereabouts

oddly, jack and neige have never interacted and only found out about vil being their mutual friend well into their teen years

Azul

like ruggie, was a master hider

unless he wants to be found, you will never find him

learned how to read earlier than kids his age because he wanted to prove he could spell big words to his mama

he may have cried a lot as a kid but do you know what that means? FREE black paint!! SUCK IT, PLEBS.

my boy was an astounding artiste, its why hes so creative with getting his way

azul is a visual learner, and always finished books a little slower because he REALLY analyzes all the pictures like downright dissects it

his grandma suggested art as a way to express himself while also making sense of the world around him

even though he thinks his old drawing of him and the twins is outdated in terms of his skill level now, he has a sentimental attachment to it and keeps it in his room always

trading trinkets was a common thing between the trio aka the twins would pop by

mama ashengrotto adored the twins bc they adored azul('s mom that is)

also inherited a beautiful singing voice from mama ashengrotto. he and his grandma would bond by playing the piano and singing. sometimes, they'd do a little show at his mom's restaurant

red hair was seen as very attractive in the coral sea and he very regrettably colour-magicked his hair

it was not the shade he wanted, but he was curious on what was, so with the many complex spells he learned at his age, he experimented with different lengths, colours, and styles until he restored it back to its original form

there remains one surviving picture of his red hair and it is kept in his stepdad's wallet (because its the only place azul wouldn't look!)

no azul is not aware pictures of his redhead era even exist

Jade

loved to weave necklaces and bracelets using shells and plants

gave a lot of necklaces made of sharks teeth to his family and azul because those are valued good luck charms!

it might also be because he loved to hunt sharks but he pretends thats not the reason :)

wandered off all the time and floyd always had to drag him back home before night

hes a curious boy, wanted to explore everything around him, especially the dangerous places

child leashes don't work in the sea but im sure mama and papa leech would have loved to have one anyway

was the main reason why he and his brother have separate rooms

too many petty "stop leaving your mess on my side (of the room)" and hissy fights had mama and papa leech mad

things definitely settled after they had separate rooms

sometimes if he got into trouble he would pretend he was floyd and sent his parents off to look for "jade"

highkey never worked but it never stopped him from trying

started a new method of using tears and his parents were more lenient with him after so he realized he can get away with things if he shed a few tears

he can cry on command and this is his primary weapon if scaring people off didnt work

will then pin it on the other party as if he didn't enable the fight

straight up told floyd lies growing up, that the pufferfish would crawl inside his ears when he sleeps, or that floyd was 'allergic' to seahorses, or that in order to get an angler mer to go away, floyd had to use bioluminescence

this carried over to land as well except jade didnt know whether his words were true or not he just straight up made things up

was also a very very sickly child. got ill extremely easily and is much more sensitive to temperature or water pressure changes

esp during pollen season? jade is gonna lose those lungs he just acquired from sneezing and coughing

Floyd

grade A hoarder

he sees something he likes? he's bringing it back home

unlike at NRC, the twins have separate rooms so the entire space is filled with a bunch of floyd's knickknacks (its why jade is always mad)

as soon as hes done playing with one he's found something else on his swims so his room is 80% things lying around

and when jade stole said knickknacks claiming it was his turn to play thats when floyd suddenly claimed that mermaid doll (that he highkey forgot existed) was his prized possession

back off jade thats his property😡

when he was younger, he loved looking and behaving exactly like jade, but as he got older he valued being his own person instead of an X2

is actually legitimately the older sibling by a few minutes and deliberately decides whether its his privilege or not whenever he can

but as soon as "because you're the oldest" is said he claims that none of them are older because they were born on the same day

to the outsider, it sounds like floyd is feeding jade a heap load of bs, but he likes gathering trivia and wording it so it *sounds* fake but really isnt

like that seahorses give birth via baby explosion

one exception to this rule is that floyd is constantly changing the story of how he met jade

one instance it was that they found each other, another was that some kid kept begging him for food and that later their mom said that was his sibling, other times, jade had allegedly died before floyd used his awesome magic to revive him

most of the time floyd tells jade that a whale shat him out and whatever came out of it looked so deformed and floyd thought jade was so soppy pathetic (in a cute way) so he brought him home

jade never tries to refute nor confirm any of these allegations but when the last story gets told he's always a little more passive aggressive with floyd that day

Kalim

sickly victorian child #2

its from all the poison attempts

and as a result he may or may not have tried mithraism so maybe its worse than we think😭

allergic as hell to bug bites too like someone please give them a electric racket

hide and seek is banned from the Asim household

at that point in his life, kalim had a good 6-7 siblings and letting them loose in a big household AND telling them to hide is a recipe for disaster

it was almost impossible for him to get in trouble too because no one was about to scold the heir of the house

workers of the Asim palace were absolutely not going to scold him and his parents had like fourteen other more rambunctious younger children

but don't be fooled, kalim is a very good seeker when it matters! he can spend hours focused on finding something important, so those hide and seek games were banned for a VERY good reason when kalim was out at night searching and didn't return the next morning (meaning he got childnapped)

oh, whats a little kidnapping but a minor setback? hes fine and in one piece, the doctor triple-checked! anyways, who's ready for another round of hide and seek??

every now and then, kalim falls victim to the good ole' midnight hour and kitchen scissors hair disaster. no, no one learns

the birds and random animals in the Asim park (that's right, his private park..) all have names and kalim visits them often to befriend them

he's learned around a total of eight languages and he will personally translate (with jamil as the scribe) his own books so he can teach his younger siblings

even remembers all their favourite hobbies, genres, activities, etc, etc

the Asim children all have one thing in common and that is their love for bubbles, but who doesn't?

kalim spends time in the nrc lab to create the perfect bubble solution with big, long lasting bubbles. trust.

remembers faces, names, and even birthdays very well. you can always bet on kalim to wish a servant or one of his tutors a happy birthday!

to kalim, having someone know your name and be happy to see you is very important! so he wants his loved ones, guests, and servants to feel appreciated, especially on their very special days :)

Jamil

has the immune system of god he has survived all of the flu seasons without catching it himself

he and kalim played in the bird houses often

taught the parrots a bunch of silly words and phrases

Najima taught one of the parrots to only refer to jamil as 'stinky'

he and Najima claim they look nothing alike even though kalim and everyone else insists its true

the two siblings fought over particular hairbands while sitting next to an entire selection of them💀

Najima loved to fight over things that jamil wanted first just for the victory

yeah, even in childhood jamil never got a break. as if the universe would give him that

we all heard the silly goofy story of jamil shuffling around under a vase thinking he was all sneaky and shit. he has many more stories like this

such as climbing in trees (he only got stuck twice!), wrapping himself in cloth and slithering on the ground (very conspicuous!!), again, draping himself in fabric and trying to blend in with the walls (with a 50% chance of success) etc, etc.

he is SO good at hiding and has so many secret spots around Asim palace, trust him.

Najima?? literally sent him a picture of curry for his birthday to celebrate. the two constantly send each other a bunch of pictures of random rocks, disfigured trash, and all sorts of unsavory things with the caption 'look its you'

while other servants were renovating Asim palace, they told the kids not to run around, because someone could crack their head if they fell off the ladder/the ladder fell on them

so, like the curious kids they were, jamil, Najima, kalim, and a few of his siblings camped around the construction zone waiting for someone's skull to break

its just morbid curiosity, they weren't wishing ill upon anyone

Vil

'don't carry me! i can walk by myself!' but in a way to convince his dad to pick him up

loved being carried around but would never admit to it

partook in many sweets as a kid even though he limits himself now

had a tradition with neige to make hot chocolate every thursday after school. in the warmer seasons, they switched to making their own fruit juice with the blender

from whole kiwis, to sweet potatoes, and ginger roots, it evolved to throwing random things in the machine to see what kind of funky juice would be made

our dear Eric Venue thinks this is so cute he has no problem with it as long as they dont waste food and clean up after. it would be a good habit to learn

plus vil looks so happy because he thinks operating a blender is such a grown up thing to do

1000% ate things he wasn't supposed to

the lipsmacker smelled so good though :(

when he failed a spelling bee and didnt want his papa to be disappointed in him the most logical thing in his seven year old mind was to eat the test

ripped it up and munch munched on the paper

and that had been his primary solution to bad grades until he was able to get in a good study technique (that, and his stomach rejecting the paper)

HORRENDOUS handwriting and it was because he tried to trick himself into being left-handed for a good portion of his life because the Beautiful Queen was left-handed >:(

also had trouble with enunciation from learning very big words. Eric can understand him but a bit of speech therapy and musical training helped

(if you're lucky, you'll still hear hints of it when vil's extremely sleepy)

often made friendship bracelets with, like, no one to give them to

traded a few with jack because vil taught him how to make them. jack thought that they would be a nice thing to give to the rest of his family, and made a few for vil in exchange

Rook

you think him crawling around on the dirt was a recent thing? hell no this was a learned childhood behaviour

he may not have had a bow back then but he had rocks and a will to play

and by will to play i mean he would pelt a lot of things with rocks

his old teachers had to placate him by teaching him how to skip stones on the lake for every one else's safety

only members of his own family were willing to play hide and seek with him

mostly because he is a terrifying seeker. you hide in the bushes and not two seconds later you hear those loud ass military grade boots stomping in your direction

ik no one wanted to play hide & seek with his ass. he only got worse after he developed his unique magic

helped paint his family's nails bc he had such a precise hand

its probably the nail polish fumes that made him this way. among 10 million other things

you know how kids would give each other cards and lolipops on valentines day?

well, on heart's day, rook would have drawn a picture of all his recipients and attach a cool leaf or flower to it

its very adorable and extremely thought out. his old recipients still think of him to this day (real)

rook had very nice penmanship even at a young age. he started by replicating his fathers handwriting and liked the flow of cursive and flair of a signature (rook has made a lot of personal signatures for himself)

had a wax stamp phase where he would dry out and collect a bunch of flowers and presses to make wax stamps

he still is crazy about wax stamps but now he can carve his OWN presses with his OWN knife 👍👍

made homemade twisttube videos at home with his siblings. they range from movie scene recreations, lip sync videos, or full on original scripts

be assured that the costumes, lighting, acting, and editing were rather top tier for their age, and it is because rook's family is exuberant like him (all cutie pies!!)

Epel

mud pie maker

he and the chickens in his village go wayyy back

didn't need animal linguistics to understand the clucks

uhh hey did anyone else have the experience of having pet chickens and then having them disappear and reappear on the dinner table??

im not saying it happened but im also not saying it didn't happen

he does brush his hair. the only reason he hates it when vil brushes his hair is that he feels like his scalp is getting scraped off

the only way to get epel to bathe was to use those three-in-ones because he would never sit still

those children that get dirty thirty minutes after you bathe them. sigh

overlined his lips with his ma's lipstick because ma used it to look nice before going to sell their produce, and epel wanted to help with sales this time. you can probably guess what happened after

the dislike for cosmetics is lifelong

(he did apologize by picking a handful of dandelions for his ma)

adrenaline junkie through and through. as soon as his legs were long enough to touch the pedal, he'd be operating the forklifts and in no way was it safe or responsible

fed the birds with seeds meant for their garden. they were hungry :(

fiddled around with the stray instruments on rainy days, now he can play in perfect harmony during celebrations with his relatives

epel has perfect pitch. destined for pomefiore all along <3

epel did not fear bees. he has potential for being a beekeeper but he didn't want to wear the bee suit

learned how to read and write very early in because he wanted to help out around the village. epel put checkmarks to confirm shipments and things

a bunch of his drawings are hung around the home

'helped' his grandma Marja knit by using the needle to stab the ball of yarn she needs to hand it to her

Idia

banning him from anything was impossible

locking your kids away from the cookie jar would work for anyone but idia. and not for the spiteful reason you think

makes him want to do it more because its interesting enough to stimulate his genius little brain

at that point he doesn't even want the cookie anymore

doing mental gymnastics to exploit loopholes. having a remote controlled airplane fetch him a cookie isn't going against his parents' word because technically he never touched the jar at all

which leads to extremely specific rules established in the shroud household

some notable ones include "severed limbs are only allowed in the staff freezers on halloween" and "no hacking the automated showers to chase down staff member C for thinking Premo are cuter than ortho"

his minecraft boyfriend broke up with him after they built their house together

it doesnt end there though, it never does. ortho took control of the pc to burn down the house and idia also got them banned. never underestimate the rage and revenge spirit of a child scorned

you know that thing about a devil and an angel on the shoulders? well, ortho was 90% the enabler for Bad Behaviour

and mostly because if idia was thinking of doing something, chances are, ortho was already doing said something

the S.T.Y.X staff often with the brothers were usually roped into playing video games and were happy to listen to whatever the boys felt like talking about

idia would bring new inventions to them and play a guessing game of what they think the function was

ortho stunk really bad at building things from scratch, but he was pretty good at memorizing the names of the parts to help idia

idia would ask the staff to take them to the observatory often. they would learn all about the constellations and idia liked to chart how they changed through the seasons

Ortho

his parents mostly had him because idia always got too creative when he was bored and thought having a new baby in the family would help idia fix up his behaviour, you know, be a good role model for ortho and all

... turns out, ortho would be pulling idia into all sorts of mischief. and worst of all, he ALWAYS GOT AWAY WITH IT.

he is tiny but mighty

lots of attitude in this little body

his favourite word was 'why'

him and idia had new nicknames for each other all the time

some of the time they were just kid things, most of the time they were a prize

whoever clears the extreme level with the highest score gets to make the other call him a nickname of their choosing

his received nicknames included such like "cosmic warrior", "lord of the shadow realm", and "the almighty" (when he beats idia's high score... after 5 losses in a row that is)

has no problem hacking the main S.T.Y.X system then blaming it on the employees for having weak security (some bs like 'im six and managed to break into the most secure network')

im sorry but i can't deny it. yes, ortho is an ipad kid and yes his ipad was disgusting

except ortho actually does listen to cyber security and he didn't have the passcode lock, he had the password lock, and it was changed every other week

(idia has accidentally locked the ipad on several occasions trying to guess the overly complicated password)

insane attachment in the sense that he will make up some bs reason (AND a forged research paper to further solidify it) on why he can't be separated from idia

if he were actually surrounded by children his age, just know ortho would've been the biter kid

weaponizes his cuteness just like jade but in a more ^^🌸 way

in these cases he will only refer to himself in third person because it pulls the most heartstrings

tugging on idias sleeves and telling him "ortho wants a cookie" had yielded better results for him than "i want a cookie"

and ortho is nothing if not a very smart boy

Malleus

fully believed that eating the seeds of watermelons would cause one to grow in your stomach

grandma Malificia found it too funny to correct him and to this day malleus still believes it

1/2 contributor to lilia's hairstyle. whenever lilia tried to make him take his bath he would spit fire

(until lilia let him play with the bubbles that was)

when he was a little kid and knew he was in trouble, he would hide in all sorts of places and pout

except he sucked at it. his hiding skill was between "if i dont see you, you cant see me", or his tail would be poking out behind the couches

usually the servants would turn the other way unless it was an emergency. because if malleus was found by anyone but the Queen or lilia, he'd have a toddler tantrum (he thinks they gave up on him)

spent most of his early days finding comfy nesting places or hunting for shiny things. there was nothing but Instinct in his little noggin until he could transform into a bi-pedal form

every day, without fail, he would get his horns stuck in something and throw a fit over it

testiest kid to ever test. when you tell mal he can't do something he'll do it bc he wants to understand why he can't do it

wanted to help grow the roses in his garden faster by summoning a thunderstorm that lasted three days and three nights

whatever tantrums you think malleus throws now are the most mild ones in his entire life

a younger malleus would summon entire hurricanes unknowingly and he would screech and babble in old fae tongue

a non-briar valley resident could easily mistake this for a demon summoning, but this is a normal tuesday in the palace

TRUST, malleus' temper is the tamest ever in the entire draconia lineage

the palace staff actually thank the witch of thorns for her mercy because this tantrum only burnt the entire east wing of the castle to the ground. the young prince is so tame !!

Lilia

straight out of a horror movie, this one

has the long dark hair and only wore long white dresses to really complete the look

loves walking around bare foot to connect with nature. that dress will be smeared with mud, fur, and berry juice (that were always red or purple tones, to everyones horror)

you all have lilia to thank for the inspiration to this horror trope

im talking wandering around in the dark, glowing magenta eyes, which appear red at times

sits SO still when its story time and the story is ancient curses and tomes

was also the kid that claimed they had a ghost friend and that his peers were being mean to "billy"

and no his family was probably the exact same way tbh

the fae are sturdy and lilia went without supervision for days

its quite a normal thing in his household

lilia would be fighting real ass ghosts in diapers and his mom would be cheering him on

the streaks are not from a goth phase but it was more of a 'the fruit juice in cranberries make really nice paint did you know??'

he also really loves tomato juice and it happens to be pretty too, so, why not?

it was originally red streaks but faded and he liked the pink better

one day he packed his bags and told his parents he was going to live in the afterglow savanna and his mom straight up joined him in packing

i like to believe that lilia did have edible food as a child but the army just ruined his tastebuds for Ever bc at that point, food was only a substance needed to live, it didn't have to be enjoyable

yeah, anyway it would be super funny if lilia's parents were good chefs, but lilia legit cannot tell the different between salt, flour, and white glitter

lilia was scooped up by Malificia mostly for his skill but it really turned out to be a glorified playdate for Meleanor

the princess was a mENACE and lilia could take her thunderbolts a bit better than the rest of her servants

(meaning that lilia was the only one that wouldn't be screaming bloody murder, he just would be hella mad and Meleanor thinks his audacity is funny)

Silver

lilias method of feeding him was waterboarding him with milk and that does not come without consequences

although lilia would go out often, its safe to say that silver was never really 'alone'

lilia would have a magical beacon on him at all times even if mal was babysitting, and he appreciates that the wildlife took a liking to silver

speaking of, silver had no concept of stranger danger no matter how much lilia told him so

every time malleus would come over silver would ask him to play murder mystery with his dolls

his first word was an attempt at malleus' name

they played together a lot it was really inevitable

helps worms and snails when it rains by helping them get under tree stumps or grass

played with axes & garden shears (thanks lilia)

2/2 contributor to lilia's hairstyle. and by that i mean he gave lilia a haircut with garden shears (that lilia fully encouraged so silver could 'build his repertoire of skills')

at this point lilias hair length was more of a liability since his sons loved to tug on it and one had a penchant for burning it

take your eyes off silver for one second and he's gone. he saw an ant, a bird, a cool statue, etc etc

loved all the fairytales lilia read him and always asked to be read the ones where true love reigned

him and malleus ran off together (more like mal whisked silver away) everywhere to play and explore

mal loved to show silver the most random things and he would always speak to him like a grown up

would often protest at the end of the day because he didn't want to part ways with him

their earlier conversations looked like mal was listening to silver say something profound even though all silver could do at the time was babble in toddler language with the occasional 'tar-tar' (no one knows what this is but malleus insists that silver is telling him he's hungry)

Sebek

beat the shit out of rocks with sticks

in the colder seasons, and and silver would find rocks or big ice pieces to smash on the ground

poor dude grew up confused as heck. lilia tells him lots of things, and he goes home and his parents tell him a different thing

complained about going to the dentist so much that now silver knows so much about the teeth structure of fae

his siblings love him so much, they're always doting on him and pinching his cheeks and that's why his smiles are so big and nice (real)

refused to eat anything on a fork. he hated the taste of metal

much preferred to use chopsticks. learned because he was a Big Boy now (he is one) and can help himself!!!!

unexplainable hatred for felt fabric. he used to melt all of his felt puppets in the water

him and silver dug a hole in lilia's backyard thinking they could make it to the shaftlands

they didn't make it to the shaftlands, but they dug too close to the river, so the hole filled up with water

and while silver panicked, sebek straight up burst into tears thinking the hole was going to drain the river

also burst into tears one halloween where lilia was dressed up and claimed he was the river spirit and didn't know anyone named sebek

ate a dog treat at some point but silver and malleus also joined him (not before malleus trolled sebek by saying he's going to turn into a dog now)

sebek was so distressed that he dragged malleus into it that he questioned his entire life because he loved playing with sticks. did he eat a dog treat earlier in his life???

when questioned, sebek told silver he didn't need to worry about the dog treat because he already drank milk like a puppy anyways (referencing the milk waterboarding, of course)

anyways, this incident ended in a stick-sword fight and malleus got a bonk on the head from lilia for his instigating

this is where sebek learned it btw. silver developed a thick skull because sebek is ALWAYS bonking him on the head for not knowing things he deems 'everyone should know'

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @bigmoose1964

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sparklefangs · 2 months

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my library is saving my mental health

I was diagnosed with epilepsy in January and am no longer allowed to drive.

I live in the ass-end of nowhere - my town has about 1600 people in it according to the last census - and all the third spaces in a 45 minute drive radius, every single one, have been shut down by landlords who kept driving the rent up. (Seriously - a gaming cafe that had been there for 11 years and was always packed, a local institution, just closed a couple months ago because they couldn't afford the rent anymore.) I also can't walk anywhere at all because the roads have no shoulders, and locals in unnecessarily massive pickup trucks drive as though coming 3 inches from hitting pedestrians is their favorite sport.

Over the last 7 months I've felt my soul slowly leaking out like a nosebleed. There's so much I can't do. I can't go anywhere. I don't have friends or family to visit. Have you ever had a mental breakdown because you physically couldn't go buy a half gallon of milk? It's not great. I mean, obviously, a fair number of people experience that, but if you haven't, and suddenly that's your reality, it's pretty jarring. Even if you're an introvert, you still have the option available to you. Now imagine you don't anymore, even if you feel like you could. You just legally and by circumstance of location cannot leave the house unless someone takes you.

So, once a week, my partner drives me the half hour to our tiny little library and drops me off. It's not in walking distance of anything, so I sit there for six hours reading. Just chilling out in my favorite chair with a book. It's great.

I'm not the only person who does this. No matter what day of the week I'm there, I see the same people sitting in their favorite spots, doing the same thing I am. It's mostly older people, but also younger folks with various visible disabilities, and I assume others, like me, who probably have less visible disabilities and nowhere else to go.

This is an extremely conservative area but the staff managed to find a corner of the YA section for a tiny little pride-themed book display. I thought it was just for June, but it's mid-July and the display is still there.

I'm so grateful for this library. Even if you buy a lot of books or mainly use audible or kindle, go visit yours from time to time. Check out books, even if you don't get around to reading them. Sign up for events they might have - ours does a monthly "blind book date" thing where you tell them what you like to read, they pick out a couple books for you, and give you a few little themed extras in your box. Show that they're important so they can keep getting funding.

They need to stick around and you might not even realize how important they are until, like me, you have nowhere else to go. I've always valued libraries but now I find myself one of the people who actually really, truly needs it in a very personal and immediate way.

PS - And tell the library staff how much you appreciate what they do. They get yelled at all the time by jackasses who probably don't even use the library but are mad because they heard there are rainbows on some of the books.

#libraries #public libraries #books #disability

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deathbecomesthem · 2 months

Note

No pressure, but is this prompt something you’d do??♥️

You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night.

This has been a long time coming. Eddie Munson x gn!reader - +18 ONLY. I don't know what I can tell you about this fic without giving away the plot. 3.2K words.

This is prompt #14 on the Stranger Prompts list that @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing and @allthingsjoeq put together in February. I hope you enjoy this.

Prompt: You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night.

---

The cabin is exactly what you need. It’s just what the doctor, your psychiatrist, ordered. A clean break from the city for 3 nights out in the mountains. There’s cell service, but it’s patchy. You found that out on the first night, having to walk all the way to the edge of the property to call in to the office and let them know you’d officially be unavailable for any emergencies while you were out of town. After that first night you find yourself checking that useless brick in your pocket less and less often.

You didn’t pick the cabin because of its reputation. The reviews are immaculate, and not just from the people that come out here hoping for a close encounter with the resident spirit. Your assumption is, especially now that you’ve spent one night here, that the haunting is a ploy to get more people to rent the property. It doesn’t matter to you if there truly is a ghost sharing the cabin with you, as long as it doesn’t leave the toilet seat up.

Right now, you’re lying in the bedroom at the back of the cabin under a heavy crocheted blanket. It smells like cedar and leaves. You left the window open last night, and the autumn air is carrying the scent of decaying leaves into your room. It’s cold on the tip of your nose, but the rest of your body is held in the comfortable warmth of the big bed. With the window open, you can see the night fading away as the sun begins to make its sleepy journey back to the daytime. You decide to follow its lead and start the day.

Coffee tastes better on the back porch; or maybe you’re able to take the time to actually enjoy it without the distraction of everyday life. Either way, you sit on the old wooden rocking chair that faces out into the woods and hold the hot brew up to your still cold nose. Richly scented steam warms your face. You let your mind wander back to the office for a moment to wonder what this Friday morning looks like without your presence looming over your employees. Like a mini vacation for them, having the boss away. Good for them, it’s the least they deserve for putting up with you every day.

The last dregs in the oversized coffee mug are as cold as the air out behind the cabin, and you decide it’s time to relocate. Throw on some warmer clothes and spend some time exploring the property. Last night you were delighted to stumble upon a barn that held a goat. You made friends with the beast for a while, stroking its rough fur and looking into its rectangular eyes. You think you might go see him again today, bring him one of the apples you hauled in with you. You’ll need to make the 20-minute trek to the small grocer in town to get more than just the cheese, fruit, wine, and coffee you brought in with you.

You’re thinking about making a nice pasta for dinner, assuming there’s anything at the tiny shop that could be ground together to make a pesto, so you don’t notice that anything has changed right away. You walk past the pair of boots sitting on the rug at the entrance of the cabin. You walk into the kitchen, not realizing the overhead light is turned on even though you never flipped the switch this morning. You set your coffee mug on the counter next to the jar of crushed tomatoes that wasn’t there half an hour ago. Your brain doesn’t even register the quiet sound of running water coming from the bathroom just down the hall. You’re too busy mapping the path you’ll take up the winding mountain road. You’re already planning the conversation you’ll have with the local that stands behind the counter of the store. Your fingers are practicing the movements of chopping basil and crushing pine nuts (or possibly cashews or walnuts depending on the inventory of the store).

Your lips move in preparatory conversation, “hi there” - “lovely weather” - “just in town for a couple of days up in one of the cabins on Bear Ridge” - “do you have any olive oil?” when a new sound, louder and harder than the tap, stops you in your tracks. A door closed. Not a car door outside, but a door in this cabin. A door just down the hallway from where you’re standing. That sound pulls you right back into the present, which allows your mind to finally see all the things that it missed.

Someone else is in this cabin.

—

Eddie booked the cabin, as he does every year, before the travel season really starts up. It’s necessary, his journey into the forested mountain. It’s different now than it was that first time, more about finding something that’s been lost than holding on to something. He is pulled to that place, the cedar of its walls hold the memories he lets himself forget the rest of the year.

It’s a pretty ride on roads that devolve from asphalt to gravel to dirt the closer he gets to his destination. Dust flies up from his truck tires and into his open windows. He wonders when the last time was these roads saw rain. Too long, from the look of the drooping pines that line the path he’s traveling on. That’s fine, it suits his mood to see nature thirst. He’s thirsty too, his own spirit is bent and dying. He can only hope his time spent alone out here will keep him going for a while longer.

He’s tired, though, and the sight of the cabin creeping up on him makes him feel like he’s being held. It’s what he needs, even if it’s not what he wants, to be called back to the memories. The mid-morning sun sits between the trees and the wooden structure. It welcomes him to the only home he knows how to return to. Eddie throws the truck into park just as he reaches the set of stairs that lead up to the wrap around porch. He sits in the cab for a minute, looking at the front door. He sighs, exhaling out the heaviness of life into the cab of his truck, and leaves it there.

He kicks off his boots and swings his bag off his shoulder just as he steps inside. It smells like cedar and coffee. Familiar scents that make the fine hair on his arms prickle. He begins his routine, putting away the food he brought with him - eggplant, pasta sauce, a block of parmesan and fresh mozzarella, eggs, breadcrumbs, tabasco, whole wheat bread, onion, pepper, garlic, crushed tomatoes, and Irish butter. Staples. These are the things he always brings with him. He makes his way down the hallway to the bedroom at the far end. It’s not the one he stayed in that first time, though he pauses outside of the door of that room to look into it. Dust particles hang in the air, and he’s not surprised to see the sheer curtain move in the breeze of the open window. He smiles to himself and moves down to the blue room where he’ll keep his things for the next three days.

—

“Hello?’ your jump at the sound of your own voice, and scold yourself internally. You clear your throat, “is someone here?”

You think maybe the owner of the cabin has maybe come by for some reason, the thought that someone would come all the out here to harm you in some way is too ludicrous to entertain. Of course, maybe it’s the ghost. Would a ghost wear black boots and buy Newman’s Own marinara? Unlikely. You take a few tentative steps down the hallway, listening hard for any sound that might clue you into who might be lurking in the shadows.

“Uh, hello?” a man’s voice calls back to you from one of the bedrooms. It sounds as unsure as your own. “Who’s there?”

He steps out of the room at the end of the hall across from your own. He’s tall, with a mound of gray curls at the top of his head. He’s dressed in black from head to toe. There’s a scar on his cheek that travels down his neck. This is the man your mother warned you about, the kind that kids in dark alleys with a knife. There should be alarm bells ringing in your head, but the lines at the corners of his eyes are soft.

“Yeah, hello. Can I help you with something?” You ask the man at the end of the hall. You watch his facial expression. His brows pinch in confusion, you think, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know, Sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting any visitors on my secluded vacation. Not sure what you can help me with.” He’s walking towards you while he speaks. A kind of saunter, possibly to hide some sort of pain.

“Well, this is my secluded vacation, and I also wasn’t expecting any visitors. Are you telling me you booked this place?”

“I’m telling you I’ve booked this place for the same three days every year for the past 20 years. So, yeah. I booked this place. Are you telling me you booked this place?” He stops when he’s within arm’s length of you, close enough to smell the sweat and aftershave on his skin. Up close, you can see that he’s maybe even a little older than you initially thought. 60 at least.

“Well, shit,” you sigh. You tell him your name and extend your hand, “this is some bullshit, maybe I should try to get a hold of the property owner to see what he can do-” you trail off, remembering your lack of cell service, “-which would be a great idea if my cell phone worked out here.”

You look at the man in front of you for some kind of suggestion, anything. You should want him to say, oh no, what a stupid thing to have happened. I’ll go get my shit and get out of here, but you don’t. It’s something in his eyes that makes you hope he’ll choose to stay, even though the idea opposes all reason.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t bring a cell phone with me out here. Sorry about that. How about we both stay -” he holds up a hand, as if to hold back the rejection you have no intention of offering, “- I’m a quiet guy. I’ll keep to myself. I bet we can get the guy that owns this place to refund us both when we get to a working phone.”

“Well, look at you. I only just met you, and you’re speaking my language.” You give him a big smile, “I’m always looking for a good deal.”

—

The old man, you can’t help but think of him as that, is named Eddie. Edward Francis Munson. He’s from Hawkins, Indiana, but he’s been living in Boston for a long time. Eddie is happy to keep the promise he made, to keep to himself and move around the cabin like a ghost, but not you. You keep finding yourself next to him. Sitting across from him in the small living room, looking over the top of your well-worn copy of The Poisonwood Bible and hoping to catch his eye. Your feet take you into the kitchen while he’s bent over the stove top, asking him what he’s working on. While he’s on the porch, you’re sitting on the stairs to watch the tree line and see what he sees.

“Do you have any kids?” The question, like all of your questions thus far, escapes your lips before you can consider that it may be a rude one.

“No kids, no. There was a time…” you crane your neck to look back at him from your spot on the wooden stairs that lead to the yard from the back porch, “yeah, no kids.”

A pitfall you didn’t see, that’s what that question is. Silence erupts in the space between you, loud enough to make you feel like you’re drowning. You can hear the peepers song through the open window, and are thankful for it. You’re ready to apologize, or crack a joke. You don’t do well when conversation ceases, it’s always been that way. You open your mouth and Eddie waves his hand. He waves away the tension and turns his lips up in a half smile. You can imagine it on the unwrinkled features of his youthful face.

“Well, no kids. Alright. What about a dog?”

Eddie’s laugh fills you with warmth. The question caught him off guard, and tickled him in that way that happens when you’re all bunched up over something sad. The sound of his laughter feels like home. Like a place you used to know. You can feel a smile on your own lips, you’ve caught onto his joy and made it your own.

“No, no dog. It wouldn’t be fair,” he’s wiping the moisture of the corner of his eyes, “I’m not home much. I do have a cat. Scout. He’s more like the neighbor’s cat at this point.”

Every answer he offers sits on the edge of a profound sadness. You can see now that this man is haunted. You begin to wonder if your intrusion on his alone time is wrong. Maybe you should leave him with his ghosts. Or not, you think he might end up following them off into the darkness.

“Well, cats are good. I’m glad you have one. I’m more of a dog person myself, I love that unconditional love and devotion. I accept nothing less from canines. And men.” You’re back to facing the tree line, and don’t see Eddie’s reaction to that. The way his smile fades even more, and the tear of laughter at the corner of his eye breaches his lash line and overflows with the added weight of his sadness.

—

Eddie gets to work on dinner while you’re perched on a high back stool at the counter that separates the cooking area from the main living room. He’s humming something familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on what it is. The sound is too lovely for you to stop it and ask him what it is.

Eddie’s movements in the kitchen are reminiscent of a dance. You can almost imagine he once had a partner that knew how to do the moves alongside him. He’s dicing onions and peppers and you’re transfixed by the movement of the blade. You take a drink of wine and find yourself on your feet and moving around the counter without even having decided to do it. You open the fridge and get to work.

You find yourself humming along Eddie’s song until you’re singing the words quietly under your breath as you whisk eggs in a shallow bowl. Eggplant parmigiana. That’s your favorite meal, and you’re pleased to see that Eddie knows how to make sauce that doesn’t come from a jar. He even brought Cento tomatoes. A kindred spirit.

The dance continues through dredging and frying. Through slicing thick pieces of bread and mincing garlic. No words spoken, apart from the lyrics of that song you can’t quite recall, yet you somehow know all the words. Just like the dance you never learned the steps to, and yet the movements feel like second nature. You know this, you think to yourself, not fully understanding what that means.

And when the pasta is drained and the garlic bread is toasty, Eddie pours you another glass of wine while you grab plates from the cabinet to the right of the sink. You think nothing of it when you wrap your arm around his waist and hold it there while you pull open the silverware drawer, and he doesn’t remark on it. You’re just moving around him as if you’ve done it a million times, a simple dance of dinner time with this man.

“Sit, I’ll bring over the dishes,” Eddie says to you, rooster potholders adorning his hands. So you sit, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. You look down at your foot, expecting to see your kitten, Scout, rubbing against your leg. His cat's way of begging for a scrap of something. Where is that little beast, you wonder, and the smile you’ve been wearing starts to slip along with your calm.

“That song is driving me crazy,” you say, hoping your voice sounds steadier than it feels. “I don’t know how I know all the words.”

Eddie sets the pan of still bubbling eggplant onto the center of the table. He sighs and looks into your eyes. Left to right, he’s not looking at you as much as searching you. You can see the younger man when you look into his eyes like this, and suddenly you know him.

“Why do you think that is?” Eddie asks you, still looking into your eyes.

“Because you wrote it for me,” you answer him.

He sighs, a sound of relief and acceptance, and dishes out the meal he made for you. Your favorite meal. It’s wonderful to be like this with him, it feels like you’ve been gone for an eternity. You’re so thankful for his presence, that he came here to find you.

“Eddie, I missed you,” you tell him.

“I missed you too. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere ever again,” he tells you, reaching across the table to hold your hand. You eat that way, hand in hand, running your fingers over the tattoo on his knuckles. Your initials, of course, faded with the passing of the years.

—

You didn’t bother to clean up after dinner. Eddie was too tired. You helped him down the hallway. You helped him undress and get under the covers. You climbed into the bed with him and found that spot at his side - your spot - and curled into him.

You hum your song to him until he’s finally asleep, and follow him into a dream. You’re at the beach with him, it’s the first truly hot summer day of 1995. It smells like coconut sunscreen and salt water. The sand under your feet is hot, and the sun is beating down on your skin. You can see Eddie standing at the water’s edge, his hand outstretched in an invitation.

You wake, not to the sound of bird call, but the sound of an engine revving outside the cabin. You leave the bed and the cold body resting beneath the covers. It’s not important, not when you know exactly what you’ll find when you open the front door.

Eddie’s sitting on the back of his old Goldwing, looking like she was just driven off the lot. His black hair is tied loosely at the nape of his neck in a ponytail, and his hand is out to you again. You run down the steps and climb onto the back of the bike, eagerly wrapping your arms around his center. You breathe in the smell of his leather.

“Eddie, where are we going?” You ask him.

“Sweetheart, I have no idea, but we’re going together this time.”

#stranger prompts #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #anon ask

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areislol · 8 months

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this goes towards my current wip with al haitham so

child al haitham x child reader // cute moments :)

some moments on angst (mentions of his parents seperating, this is just a hc of mine for some angst don't bash me pls) not proofread. short

a/n: this was for funsies, honestly i just needed to write something cute and fluffy after writing an angsty wip, i can't write this all in my current wip hence, this!

when he was reading a book to you

when you were rolling on the ground trying to get his attenton as he read a book

when al haitham was trying his best to console you with awkward pats on the back after having tripped and cried

al haitham's mother making him hold your hand when crossing the street.

when you had a sleep over at his place and fell asleep on his bed, both of your tiny hands just barely touching each other

al haitham trying to stop you from touching a stray cat saying that it was "dirty and mommy said not to touch a cat outside, you can get hurt and even die!!" poor boy was scared for you

you laughing at him as he falls, when he cries and puts the blame on you, you both get time out and somehow you manage to run away, dragging al haitham with you as your mother chases you

building a sand castle with him, it's very sloppy looking but you were proud of it, and so was al haitham. so when a random child that was getting chased by their friends and run over your sandcastle he is furious, swearing to find them when his older and destory their sandcastle as pay back. and when he notices that you're sobbing uncontrollably? he might just even have a talk with them.

al haitham who helps you steal the cookie jar that was ONLY meant to be eaten after dinner, and when your grubby tiny hands reach for it and break it, he takes the blame.

al haitham who lets you put stickers and bows on his face as he reads a book, as long as you aren't in the way of course (he doesn't mind if you do or don't) and refuses to take them off when he needs to shower.

al haitham who is always there to help you get up when you trip and fall, even asking his mother to buy him a small hang bag so he can stuff bandaids in there.

al haitham gets really, seriously mad when someone picks on you for being "too loud" or "running around too much", he doesn't outright say anything but the glares...? even for a young child like him, whew.

he's always with you, before school, during school, after school and even during the holidays! (no wonder you're so close) and he doesn't mind, his mother is always tearing up as she watches her son watch you hold the crayon whole and scribble on a paper, and when you invite him to draw with you? ack! two cuties trying their best to draw each other.

(turns out to look like human blobs, one with grey hair with green streaks and one with [h/c]!! the eyes are disproportional but what can you expect from 5/6 year olds..)

al haitham who stays silent and listens as you yell at him out of anger when he accidentally loses a doll you gave him, he's clearly upset that you're mad at him but now he's mad at you, why are you yelling at him he did nothing wrong!!

this results in you ignoring him (it was a pain) and of course, al haitham hates it when you ignore him. so as usual, he asks his mother to give you a bag full of your favourite candies. you forgive him in less than a minute.

al haitham doesn't own much toys and likes books, any book. even if he can't read them he finds the pictures interesting. so he's more than elated when he sees that you got him new books on his birthday or even as a surprise gift!!

sometimes you lend him your toys so that you two could play together, you were taught to share of course. you often force him to play barbie dolls with you, not that he minds, it's just... does he really have to put on a girly voice for raquelle?

he swears that he won't ever play this game with you ever again after his friends caught him playing with you. (but secretly he continues to do so after making sure no one is around)

!!! playing family!!! you're always the mother who works hard by playing soccer and earning no money whatsoever while al haitham is the father who stays home and reads books. for some odd reason he feels this tingly feeling in his heart when he plays this game with you. what if one day when you're both older and live together with 5 exotic cats and wolves? what a dream.

al haitham who recieves a paper from his teacher that states "what is your dream?" for a class activity and immediately you pop up in his mind. his dream... is to make you happy. other than reading all the books in the world and making his mama and papa proud!

he gets upset when you aren't here with him for a day or more, say, you're on a holiday in another country or state, boy is he gonna be pestering and begging his mother to see you!! please, he needs to go there right now!!! (ever heard of face time?)

later in the years al haitham's always embarrassed when his mother brings that up, saying that it's "not true" but then completely freezes when his mother takes out her phone, saying "oh no worries, i have a video recording!!" and turns to face you, smiling. the way the colors drain from his face.

who is afraid to lose you after his mother came into his room and sat by the edge of his bed, her hand caressing his soft hair. "my dear boy," she would say softly, her gaze so soft and gentle.

"is it okay it mama comes in?" al haitham nods his head, how could he ever deny his mother's request?

"thank you baby, now, mama has something to say. don't be too scared now, okay?" al haitham nods, continung to lie down on his best tucked in nicely.

"people come and go, al, you will understand one day but... sigh, mommy and daddy have to tell you something."

ever since then he's sure to do whatever it takes to make you happy, he doesn't want you to leave him, ever. not like you would ever!!

#genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin headcanons #—✧ · . fandom: genshin impact

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thatguythatdrawsalot · 3 months

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Weiss - Atlas Design Critique.

Wow, I’m back to do two things useful with my RWBY Archives, talk about Weiss’ canon look in Atlas, and redesign her. I’m gonna talk about her actual look first, as the character notes on her dedicated page made me… hate the look much more. It was already in my top ten least favorite designs in RWBY but NOW it’s in the top five. RWBY Archives

I’ve been wanting to know why they thought it was a great idea for Weiss to wear a restricting-looking dress in the North Pole. Why does she choose to look like a wealthy princess when she is no longer tied to money or her family? The book gave me an answer I was not expecting… they just wanted to make her look like a wizard. I HATE IT. It’s bad enough that Weiss just summons, but this has to be some animation trick. They didn’t want to animate Weiss fighting like a ballerina anymore, so it was best she stuck to just summoning and only uses Myrenaster as a glorified wand. You might as well dress Weiss in whatever way you want cause all she does is stand and point… and whenever she does try to fight it looks janky as hell.

No way did they think Weiss could fight in a dress, Maria and Cinder could, but no way can I see Weiss fight like THIS anymore.

Hair

Now I don’t wanna disrespect the modeler cause I’ve seen their Artstation account. They modeled the Gods’ dragon forms, Winter, and Jaune! Models that look good! But the hair… they struggled and the backlash was hard cause they tweaked her hair again for Volume 8. I’m surprised they chose to change it when the people in charge should’ve changed it before Volume 7 even aired. It just tells me their standards are low and don’t give a crap about the product unless they need the fans to say something. The huge mass on top of her hair was so jarring I was convinced Weiss just took Blake’s chopped hair, dyed it, and applied it to hers.

Primary Color - White?

Blake is wearing more white than her, The Ace Ops are wearing more white than her, and Jacques is wearing more white than her- Weiss’ colors are perfect if she was representing the color blue and her name was something like Azure. The tiny reds don’t make an impact, wouldn’t surprise me if people didn’t know there was red inside of the dress. The super blue for her puffy jacket can’t be found anywhere else to balance that color, and her whites are then covered by grays. It’s like too many colors, what else can I say other than SHOWING what they could’ve done in the choice of color placements.

Positives?

This is gonna sound like an odd positive but I think she looks downright gorgeous in Ever After. The whacky princess look standing next to the Red Prince was amazing. It made me wish Weiss was the ‘Red Queen’ for The Ever After, similar to how Neo was ‘The Mad Hatter’ and Jaune being ‘The White Rabbit.’ It really could’ve tied in well.

Redesign

I miss redesigning a character; I kept in mind that White is primary, the tiara is no longer a staple to her design since she is no longer tied to wealth or even the heiress, and that her Volume 6 leggings and scarf stay intact. Why make accessories to protect her from the cold, but when she gets to a colder place she ditches them for a boob-window and bare legs that can make anyone freeze to death up in the north??? Side note; It’s not perfect, I’m not saying mine is better than the originals or anyone else’s this is just how I would’ve designed her or at least kept in mind to make a priority for the design. I also wanna say, yes, this outfit does look similar to another redesign of Weiss that someone else has made. I drew the design first before I went to Google to check if the look did look similar to someone else’s and I was like “Oops.” It wasn’t the intention, just coincidence. I didn’t steal.

Conclusion

It looks like the Atlas designs had a very huge backlash by just how BAD they were, as it now affects the girl's presumed Volume 10 looks in Vacuo, they have Weiss in white, ditched the chunky braid, and kept her in a presumed combat skirt than a restricting dress. Either A.) The original character designer for team RWBY finally took constructive criticism to get the girls back to themselves B.) They no longer design the girls and Viz Media put in a new artist for the team or C.) Vacuo designs were much easier to make than Atlas.

These options can be wrong too these are just my little theories, end of the day we got a design for Weiss that just shouldn’t have made it into the show. A design that didn’t represent white, displays wealth when trying to distance herself from her family/company, a huge animation restriction, and overall one of the worst outfits I’ve seen put on Weiss Schnee.

But of course it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby redesign #rwde

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t0ast-ghost · 4 months

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Star Trek II: Wrath Of Khan thoughts:

For this post if I could simply embed the entire movie and just write the word, ‘queer’ I would. Unfortunately you are all stuck with this, happy pride month!

Spoilers for the entire movie will be featured in this post

Going forth:

- I know what the kobayashi maru is so I know they’re not in danger but that’s some good acting Bones

- “‘Physician heal thyself.’” “Is that all you’ve got to say? What about my performance?” “I’m not a drama critic.” Thinking about this pose thinking about this pose thinking about thi-

- “Galloping around the cosmos is a game for the young, Doctor.” He’s feeling something and projecting

- “Aren’t you dead?” That’s certainly a way to greet your husband

- They’re so cute. And sad. And cute.

- tiny guys hehe. The boots got sluttier somehow

- McCoy got him glasses cause he can’t read the book without it and bring up that post that’s saying how Spock and McCoy’s gifts go together but McCoy got the logical thing and Spock got the emotional one

- Don’t quote me on this but the things I would do to that man… I wouldn’t.. but holy shit that outfit is killing me.

- hi checkov

- Carol Marcus? Doesn’t she have Kirk’s-? okay then I won’t spoil that just yet

- Creature in a jar moving under the sand

- BOTANY BAY????? Oh wait a sec I should’ve seen that coming it’s called wrath of khan

- Did they kill Chekov?

- hello Khan. That’s a very long and dramatic reveal he’s kinda hot tho

- Thinking about genetic engineering and augmentation and how they’re illegal but star trek presents cases where people now exist and it’s not the fault of the person that they are what they are so they have to question if an entire person should be illegal because of the actions of others… anyway I don’t wanna get deep into this right now, back to the movie

- Are they going to kill Chekov? (edit: not sure why I’m so fixated on thinking they’re gonna)

- WOW THAT IS CERTAINLY A SWEAT DROP

- brain worms… this sounds recently familiar

- HES READING HIS BOOK WITH THE GLASSES THEY DIDNT NEED TO SHOW HIM DOING THAT BUT THEY DID AND ITS ADORABLE OMG

- The conversation between Savik and Spock is so precious. And it’s in Vulcan. And she says “He’s more human than I expected” and it’s like that’s her commenting on Spock’s husband

- Kirk does not want to do this inspection

- McCoy does a little bounce

- “For everything there is a first time. Wouldn’t you agree, admiral” “mmhhmm” “Would you like a tranquilizer?” *Kirk shakes his head*

- I think this one has a more solid plot. I’m enjoying so far :)

- Does McCoy serve on this ship or is he just following along?

- (Had to stop watching around here because I left for the weekend so these thoughts are potentially a bit different)

- wowah! Cool ship!

- uh oh. Chekov on the monitor with the brain worm!

- khan is kinda- yeahh

- I LOVE SAAVIK! RAHHH! Also apparently Saavik is canonically half Vulcan half Romulan according to the trivia

- I like how Bones is just there :)

- Putting Spock in black… they knew what they were doing

- They’re husbands your honour. Spock knows Kirk wants to take command and isn’t to proud to get in the way of making his wife happy

- “You are my superior officer. You are also my friend. I have been and always shall be yours.” Kissing would have been less romantic

- George Takei’s voice is majestic

- “He tasks me. He tasks me and I shall have him. I’ll chase him round the moons of Nibia and round the Antares maelstrom and round perdition’s flames before I give him up.” Not obsessive at all.. nope this is something completely and totally normal to say about your nemesis

- “Uhura, have Doctor McCoy join us (Kirk and Spock) in my quarters.” Hmmmmm.. gotta inform the whole polycule about the shady government experiment

- lmao BOTH Spock and McCoy know who Carol Marcus is

- oh so terraforming… NEVERMIND REALLY FAST TERRAFORMING

- “Really, Dr. McCoy, you must learn to govern your passions. They will be your undoing.” Flirting, gentlemen?

- How and why does Starfleet continually put Spock and McCoy together? Like this alert would be sent out 24/7

- Spock and his awesome daughter Saavik

- falling

- Kirk with the breast flap down

- such a good moment… such a great moment (sorry for shitty photos)

- Kirk has to put on his little glasses <3

- Kirk does NOT fuck around

- Poor Scotty. He’s got so much emotion about his dead crew mate and the doctor apologizing to him 🥺🥺🥺

- Saavik making up rules to make sure the admiral is safe. Love her.

- “Jim, be careful.” “We will.” MCCOY IS SO BITTER. Like ‘no wishes of luck for me, Spock? Fuck you!’

- The collar on that uniform is silly

- hehe McCoy got scared by a rat. OH HE ALSO GOT SCARED BY A DEAD BODY

- Kirk’s little disappointed “oh my god” as he finds Chekov in the cupboard

- “Suppose they went nowhere.” “Then this’ll be your big chance to get away from it all.” McCoy’s not leaving Kirk, but he still looks like he wants to strangle him sometimes

- Kirk not afraid to punch a bitch

- WAIT THATS KIRKS SON?!? Isn’t it?? I thought David was Carol’s brother. But nope!

- aww dammnit I knew they were still mind controlled :/

- Saavik saving David. Y’know it would be pretty cool if there was something about Saavik, David, and Johanna meeting and maybe serving on a ship of their own.. idk just thoughts.

- ewwww brain worm.

- OH THE ECHOING “KHANNN”

- mmmm Kirk without the jacket. The white turtleneck with sleeves… also McCoy and Saavik are slaying with their turquoise and orange turtlenecks

- “Food the first order of survival.” I bet the fanfic writers had a field day with this one (cause cause it’s a reference to Tarsus IV)

- Imagine this: you’re stuck underground with your husband, your other husbands adopted daughter, your ex, her son (who’s also your son), and your old Russian navigator who’s unconscious and tried to kill you while being mind controlled by a worm which came out of his ear

- David’s got Kirk’s curls <333

- Kirk has a thing for people who look good in blue. Change my damn mind.

- “I don’t believe in a no win scenario.” He immediately calls Spock afterwards cause he’ll never lose with his husbands around

- “You lied.” “I exaggerated.” Yep, he IS that bitch

- Saavik is learning so much from them

- They still just.. let anyone onto the bridge. Like David is just there now

- oh no Scotty! Well McCoy was miraculously there to catch him

- CHEKOV BACK ON THE BRIDGE!

- Once again. Kirk does not fuck around! He just killed those guys

- “To the last I will grapple with thee.” WOW. Okay. Well.

- Khan’s about to terraform this bitch

- McCoy stopping Spock from going into the chamber..

- “You’re not going in there!” “Perhaps you’re right. What is Mr. Scott’s condition?” SIKE BITCH SPOCK JUST FUCKING NERVE PINCHED HIM. McCoy you should’ve been tipped off by the fact he 1. Said you were right and 2. Gave up trying to self sacrifice so easily

- wait why’d Spock connect to McCoy’s psi points and say remember? Remember what?

- I like there’s just a sign that flashes the word ‘radiation’ in red letters

- McCoy and Scotty BEGGING Spock not to do this. Break my fucking heart why don’t you?

- Kirk’s little run to the engine room <3

- I know he’s dying but those boots are so slutty

- Solely watching Kirk’s face is already like watching 10 puppies get killed

- “Don’t grieve, admiral.” Has me crying already. Your closest and longest friend is watching your slow descent into death and you ask him not to grieve you. You want him to know your death meant something. It meant he’d be safe and that is nothing to grieve. I’m going to be sick

- don’t touch me I’m thinking about this

- SAAVIK IS CRYING OMG GIRL ME TOO

- Kirk’s voice breaking.. god. Shatter my fucking heart why don’t you?

- if they play bagpipes at my funeral I’m rising from the dead (violins would be nice though)

- NOO HIS CUTE LITTLE GLASSES BROKE

- “They’re just words.” “But good words. That’s where ideas begin. Maybe you should listen to them.” POP OFF DAVID ! Good line

- SON REVEAL! NOT CLICKBAIT

- There’s 8 minutes left of this. Did they leave this one with Spock dead?

- “He’s really not dead, as long as we remember him.” Good words McCoy. But perhaps maybe you might have some.. assistance remembering him?

- got distracted and drew Kirk but I love the last little Spock narration. Really brave to end a WHOLE MOVIE with one of the best most well known characters being dead

Well that movie did have its pros and… khans

…

See you next time

Masterpost

#star trek #star trek ii: the wrath of khan #the wrath of khan #captain james kirk #james t kirk #khan noonien singh #leonard bones mccoy #doctor mccoy #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #carol marcus #saavik #pavel chekov #hikaru sulu #montgomery scott #I’m sorry but I don’t think I mention Uhura in this one

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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year

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Azriel x Borrower!reader: The Secret World of Borrowing

A/N: uh, so, yeah…making it so borrowers have little wings in this, so I guess you could just call them fairies at this point.

Warnings: none???? for once??? maybe like bad language if I’m really trying???

Word Count: 3,327

-Part 2-

Anything in excess will do your body no good.

Initially, you had dismissed the thought—living off sugar cubes sounded like absolute heaven. But after about a month of surviving solely off the sweet substance, you’ve begun to dread your next meal.

Your stomach’s rumbling again, so you hop from the burnt out candle pot—cramped as it is—hidden behind a stack of books, perched precariously at the edge of the fae’s desks. So far, you’ve managed to avoid them all, darting behind teacups or ducking beneath the lip of a plate, and soon, you’ll be done with them. Just one more week, and your shimmery, iridescent wing will be fully operational.

It’s already been three since that dreadful storm that had sent you whipping through the air, smacking into the wooden frame of what you’ve now pieced together was a window ledge. From there on, you’d used your small reserves of magic to bind and set your wing, but it’s been lessening your healing powers—hence the exacerbated pain and elongated recovery time.

Slowly, carefully, you peek out from behind the towering stacks of parchment, spotting the sugar jar that’s kept on the desk. A quick scan of the room tells you the fae that inhabits it is not around at the moment. While you’ve made a point of remaining hidden and out of sight, you’ve noted a few peculiar things about the male. There’s a strange darkness that wafts around him, a bleakness that surrounds his wings—great things, that stick out from his back and loom over his shoulders! He has an odd sort of schedule, too. Blasted male. He often works late into the nights—confining you to your too-small candle pot that’s cramped, and stuffy, and really not good for your healing wing.

But you can blame him for all those wrongs until the day you die—for now, your keen nose is picking up a delicious smell. Doing another scan, you peek out further, to spot a plate laden with food.

Dear Mother, it’s one of the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen. You ignore the meat at the side, instead staring at the beans, and salad, and beside the plate— Berries! You could dance, leap for joy, cry, or sob, at the welcomed sight. You rush out, darting over the grain of the wooden desk. The small, glass bowl comes up to your stomach—a little taller than the plate—and you eagerly grab a berry.

The food is still warm though, which means he will likely be returning at some point soon. You turn, scanning the flat expanse of his desk. There’s a metal-looking container, housing some ink pens. That will do perfectly well should he return.

You open your mouth, poised to chomp down on the berry, when the hairs on your neck rise. Then something snags your ankles, pulling you off balance. A tiny scream spills from your lips as you drop the berry, face smacking into the desk. Quickly, you flip over, ignoring the blood dripping down your upper lip. It’s that darkness he’s always wrapped in, but—why is it bothering you? You didn’t know it could detach from him? That’s unfair!

You shoo it away, kicking your legs but it curls higher, tentatively. You snarl, writhing more frantically as it creeps up your knee, over your thigh. A growl rips from your throat in warning, but it doesn’t listen. Instead, more darkness swells, wrapping up your hips and around your waist. You shriek in anger, practically vibrating as the shadows press and push at your skin.

The final straw comes when you receive a pinch on the ass, red colouring your vision as magic wraps around your hands and you grip a strand of darkness firmly, yanking it off your body as if it were some weak rope. The darkness twitches, writhing in your hand, suddenly desperate to get away from you. “That’s what I thought,” you snap, indignantly, tossing it off you.

It slinks away, once again leaving you to the berry. You huff, wiping your nose on your forearm, attempting to get rid of the blood. But then you’re knocked into from behind, making you stumble. The shadows coil, springing forward, tackling you to the wooden desk as they keep you pinned. You struggle and writhe, worried about what this position will do to your wing, but then you hear the ominous scuff of boots in the hallway.

Panic surges in your chest, and you once again coat your hands in magic, but the shadows have learned from last time, shackling your wrists to the wood so you’re unable to touch them. You snarl in fury, pushing the magic to your mouth as you sink your teeth into the shadow. It twitches and jerks about, but you hold fast. The constraints remove themselves from your wrists, and you take the chance to flip the shadow over—the others that had been holding you down skittering away, scrambling for cover.

With your hands now free, you keep it pinned to the table, slamming your magic coated fists into it, beating it off you until—

Reinforcements have come, and they’re dragging you off the smaller shadow that’s twitching and flickering. “Let me go!” You snarl, tugging against the restraints, “it started first! Let me finish it!”

The door swings open, and you all freeze.

It only takes a second, but then his hazel eyes have landed on you, piercing into your form as he stiffens. His shadows release you, darting away as if they were completely innocent, and then you’re scrambling for cover. You were mistaken though, his shadows didn’t go into hiding. They were grabbing a jar.

You slam into the glass, a fresh wave of blood running down your upper lip as you smack your palms into the glass—to no avail. On the bright side, the berry’s in here with you. You grab it, placing it between you and the edge the desk, between you and the approaching male.

His eyes are marginally widened as he comes to a stop, pausing warily as he takes you in. You go rigid under his scrutinising gaze, crouching down behind the berry. It only comes up to your knees, but it’s better than nothing. A shadow curls over his ear, and you hiss at it, backing as far against the glass as you can, keeping your magic on hand.

Slowly, he pulls out the chair, lowering himself into the seat, still staring at you. You offer him your most scathing glare, trying not to be too intimidated by his size and piercing eyes. “Let me go,” you shout, scrunching your hands into fists over the berry. His features shift into mild shock, or surprise. “You can…talk.”

You don’t lessen your glare, instead you make it harder. “Of course I can talk, you blithering idiot! Why wouldn’t I be able to talk?” You snap furiously, nails sinking into your palms. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, bracing his fingers on the table. Your eyes dart to his hands, cringing further back against the glass.

He lowers his hands, and you stop trying to push through the jar.

“You…what are you?” He asks, settling his hands on the wooden chair arms. Your nose wrinkles as you stare at him for a long moment. Then, “I’m a Borrower,” you spit out, “and you have no right to keep me here. None. So let me go.”

Again, he shifts in his chair, those great, powerful wings at his back catching in the light, showing off the gilt looking membrane of the inner skin. “You’re a what?” He asks slowly, as if your size would somehow interfere with the speed you hear. “I’m a Borrower. And I’m not dim. I can hear you perfectly fine. Just a bit muffled through the glass,” you snap pointedly, eyeing the confinement he’s trapped you in.

He’s quiet for a while, and your heart spikes. What’s he going to do with you? With his size, and shadows, a number of cruel fates await, all because you’re a little too small for him to consider a life form. He raises his hand to rub over his mouth, appearing in thought. Then, “you’re the creature the made those little footprints, aren’t you.”

You blink, caught of guard, “I— What?” He nods his head, as if confirming something. “You got stuck in the gravy, didn’t you? That’s where those marks came from.” You flush with embarrassment, baring your teeth at him, “it’s your damn fault for swamping your food in that rutting sauce,” you snarl viciously, remembering how the gloopy liquid had come up to your thighs in some places. It had taken a lot of work to get clean again.

He nods quietly, watching you with those piercing hazel eyes of his that make you want to curl up in your candle pot. “I’m Azriel,” he says at last, making you jump. “What’s your name? Or are you just called Borrower?” He inquires, seemingly earnestly. It doesn’t stop the fumes pouring from your pointed ears, “is my name Borrower?” You repeat, rage building in the pit of your belly.

“Insolent! Arrogant! The lot of you!” You shout at him through the glass, magic flaring in your palms, but you tamp it down. “We have names, just like you. How would you like it if we all insisted on calling you by your kind’s name?” You snap aggressively. His brows raise a little at your outburst, raising his palms in what you guess is supposed to be a calming gesture. Red tints your vision, “don’t you try and placate me! Condescending brute!”

“I meant no harm,” he says, “but I want your name. So I know what to call you.”

You hesitate, pausing your rampage. “Why should I tell you my name?” You ask, eyes narrowing on the male. He makes another calming gesture, and you settle a little, “I’m not trying to antagonise you—you’re a creature I’ve never even heard of before, so I’m going about this as logically as possible,” he replies smoothly. You deflate a little at how genuine he sounds. “So,” he says, sensing your mood calm, “what is your name?"

Your head dips down for a moment, hands wringing in your lap as you keep near your berry. “I…I don’t know,” you stammer, softly. His brow furrows in confusion, “what do you mean you don’t know?” Your eyes flit about, darting away from his. “My mother… I can’t read. She wrote my name down for me, so I would never forget it, but I was never told what it was.” You laugh quietly to yourself, “three hundred years, and I’ve never gotten the chance to learn. Or ask…” His eyes soften at your harrowing tale.

“I could read it,” he offers. You peer up at him with wide eyes. “Provided it’s in a language I know,” he adds, hastily. You suppress the urge to snap at him that you have the same language, why would it be written differently? Instead dip your head almost imperceptibly.

You get to your feet, hesitantly making your way to the front of the clear glass jar. He leans in closer to be able to see and you reach into one of your pockets, then pull out your fisted hand, holding it out toward the glass. Azriel squints a little as he peers closer, hoping to at least give you the knowledge of your name…and after three hundred years, too.

Daintily, you raise your middle finger, effectively flipping him off, “eat shit and die, asshole.”

Silence stretches between you, a storm brewing in the air, and you tense, waiting for him to break upon you. But then he huffs out a puff of air, and his eyes are crinkling and he’s laughing, chuckling softly to himself. You stare with wide eyes, tiny finger still raised in defiance as he laughs to himself.

You flush with indignation—he should be furious! “Hey!” You snap. “I don’t know what the hell you’re laughing at. It’s not funny.” He laughs harder, hiding his face in his the crook of his elbow and you watch his shoulders tremble as he attempts to control himself. “Hey!” You repeat, a little bewildered, “Azriel!”

After a few moments, and a few more deep breaths, he raises his head so he can peer at you. You take a few shuffling steps back away from him, returning to your berry. “If you won’t tell me your name,” he says, smiling faintly, “will you at least tell me what you were getting into a scrap about with my shadows?”

“They attacked me first,” you snap at him, scowling. His eyes flick over your bloody nose, “you were stealing my food.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I was hungry.”

“So you thought stealing was a good idea?”

“You shouldn’t leave food out where nasty little Borrowers can get their grubby little hands on it,” you counter, folding your arms over your chest.

He pauses, eyes running over you properly. “Why are you in my room?” You know he marks the way you stiffen, but you force every ounce of nonchalance you have into your body as you shift your weight to one hip, examining your nails that aren’t as clean as you would like. “Because I seem to come by a lot of free meals.”

It’s his turn to furrow his brows, leaning closer, examining you, “how long have you been in here?”

“Long enough to know you’re a cranky old bastard who’s so obsessed with his work he’s unable to notice when a little thing like me sneaks in,” you reply smoothly, holding your own as he stares at you. He nods again, “a while, then.” You nod, giving him a smarmy little smile.

He leans forward more, resting his cheek on his forearm as he looks at you sidewards. Gods—he’s so much bigger than you. “Where have you been relieving yourself, then?” You’re stunned for a moment, before you dig your nails into your palms, stomping forward to the edge of the glass cage. “In your food,” you snarl angrily, flushing at the rude question. His lips quirk up at that, crossing his arms over the desk as he rests his chin on the table, “I’d been wondering what that sweet flavour was.”

“You crass, brazen, pig,” you snap indignantly, absolutely appalled.

He chuckles again, seemingly enjoying getting under your skin. “You Big Ones are all the same,” you hiss. “You’re rude, disgusting, and have no concept of manners.” He blinks as you blow off some steam, going on a rant that matches your size. “Big Ones?” He asks, “is that your name for my kind?” You nod in response, a stern dip of your chin. “So are you a Little One, then?” He asks, mildly pleased when your lip curls back from your teeth. How can something so small carry so much anger in her little body? He’s surprised you can fit it all in. “Don’t call me that,” you snap, plumes of smoke practically shooting from your little ears, “it is rude.”

His smirk widens, “what about Tiny? Or Goblin?” Your lips part in astonishment, “I am not a goblin.” A tiny foot stomps down on the desk. “You might be a goblin,” he says, amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. “They’re old wives tales. Folklore, nothing more,” you snap indignantly, tapping a tiny, impatient foot on the wood. “I don’t know what they look like,” he reasons.

You scowl at him, “they’re ugly little things.” He smiles a little, a single dimple appearing beside the edge of his mouth, “they could be lovely, little things with ugly tempers.” You snarl at the taunt, practically vibrating with anger.

“Is this how you’re going to torture me? By boring me to death? Pretty unimaginative, if you ask me,” you snarl, nails digging into your palms as you glare at him. He regards you silently; it’s an effort not to shift beneath his gaze. “What makes you think I’ll hurt you?” He asks softly, watching from beneath dark, silky locks that curl over his brow. You narrow your eyes at the male suspiciously, “it’s what you do. Don’t try and make a fool out of me. I know your kind’s tricks.”

His frown deepens, watching you in his glass jar. “I’m not going to hurt you, or torture you, for that matter,” he says at last. It’s your turn to frown, “you’re letting me go?” His eyes narrow a little as he peers at you closely. “Do you want to stay?” You take a subconscious step away from the edge of the jar, then shake your head.

Azriel sighs, then removes the confinement, releasing you back into the world. “Go on,” he says, nodding to the window. “Get a move on.” You flush, eyeing the distance from the opening far above to the level of his desk—to your eyes, at least. Turning back to him, you scowl, “I’m not even allowed my food?” He arches a single brow, lips quirking at their corners, “I would have thought you’d be leaping at the chance of freedom.”

“Well, I don’t want you watching me,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest standoffishly. He smirks, “oh yeah?”

You scowl. “Yes.”

He leans back in his seat, wings flexing at his back, making your working one twitch in response. “So it’s nothing to do with the bandage around you wing, there?” He points, and you try to tuck them in tight, but a spike of pain licks up your spine, making you bite your lip. You shake your head adamantly, “I’m fine.”

He hums in response, and before you know it, his shadows have you by the waist, the ankles—everywhere. You shriek with anger as he lifts you into the air, depositing you back into the jar, this time with it the correct way up. His shadows give you an unfriendly shove once you’ve settled, and you snap your jaws at them, making them hurriedly scuttle away.

“So if I leave you now, you’ll be gone when I return?” He asks, brow raised in silent taunt—he knows something’s wrong. You narrow your eyes, but say nothing. Amusement gleams in his gaze, triumph and satisfaction quietly mocking you as you scowl.

He rolls his shoulders, muscle shifting beneath his leathers, “I don’t think I can trust you not to go through my things, or to try and escape only to get yourself killed in the process…” He drawls. “How long until it’s healed? You can stay until you’re ready for flight.”

You’re too stunned to speak.

He’s offering to…help you?

Can’t be.

“In exchange for what, exactly?” You ask warily, squinting at him. He laughs a little at that, and you’re confused why. “Can’t it just be for the pleasure of your wonderful company?” He asks, deep voice lilting with mirth. Still, your brow narrows into a scathing glare, “you want me for your pleasure? Is that it?” You spit out, feigning fury even as terror warms your lower belly.

His grin widens, “with your size? What could I ever do with you?” He inquires, laughing, “have you run up and down my skin with those tiny, bare feet of yours?”

A wild flush warms your cheeks at the image, making you snarl. “Laugh all you want. I know what your kind is like.” He gives you a challenging look, “pray tell.”

“You’re crass, cruel, and lewd. You won’t trick me,” you declare.

“‘Crass, cruel, and lewd,’ huh?” He repeats, smiling faintly, leaning in a little, “sounds like a good night, to me.”

Your jaw drops open, rendered speechless. Then red is seeping in, and magic coats your hands as tiny fists slam into the glass. “Big! Arrogant!” You snarl, fractures spiderwebbing through the jar.

“You’re going to rot in hell for that, Azriel!”

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

#Azriel #Azriel x reader #Azriel shadowsinger #The Secret World Of Borrowing #TSWOB #TSWOB Part 1

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boxboxlewis · 1 year

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“Hello! Welcome to Self(help), and please do shout if I can be of assistance,” George says, and of course the words are rote but hopefully he also sounds warm and welcoming or whatever. He’s sitting behind the till, doing some online shopping, not really focussed on the customer who’s just come in.

“Do you really only sell self-help books?” the customer asks, and—that voice is familiar. George looks up and nearly falls off his stool, because that face is familiar too: there in his shop, real and breathing and somehow taller than George had expected, is Alex Albon. He’s got giant sunglasses on, and a trendy little scarf around his neck, but as a disguise it’s hardly adequate; Alex is probably one of the most recognisable people in the world, especially since his Oscar win last year. George tries to casually push the hair back off his forehead, and is so distracted he almost slaps himself in the face.

“Er,” he says. What was Alex’s question? Oh right, self-help books. “Yes, is the short answer,” he says, and then for reasons known only to his frontal lobe keeps talking. “I had a really hard time getting a loan to start the business, because the banks were all like ‘Do people even buy self-help books anymore now that there’s Google,’ but we’re doing really well now, actually. It helped a lot when Brené Brown gave us a shoutout on Instagram, but even before that—er—sorry, you don’t care about any of this, do you. Well. If you need any help—or any self!—just let me know!”

Alex is just staring at him. George does a tight little sorry-I-fucked-up-socially smile, and turns his attention back to the chinos on his computer monitor, heart racing.

Lando emerges from the back of the shop. “George, if I do any more work I’ll literally die,” he says earnestly. Or maybe sarcastically; George doesn’t really understand Gen Z humour, probably because he refuses to join TikTok. “I shelved, like, an entire box of books, so I’m just going to honour myself now and take some time to self-care. I’m going out for a coffee if you want anything.” He notices Alex standing in the middle of the shop floor and flashes him an artificial smile. “Welcome to Self(help), if you take a picture for socials remember to hashtag us!”

“Flat white,” George says automatically. Lando nods and leaves the shop. He really hadn’t clocked Alex at all, which is surprising at first, until George considers how monumentally self-absorbed Lando is at all times.

“Is that your employee,” Alex asks.

“Yes,” George says, “I did something wrong in a past life, it’s very—do you like candles?”

“Candles,” says Alex Albon, who is still very much in George’s shop.

“We’ve got a lovely selection,” George explains.

Alex pauses thoughtfully. “No,” he says, and then, after a long-ish pause, “thanks.”

George nods.

Alex says, “Look, I only came in here to get away from some teenagers who were taking pictures of me.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” George says, as if that’s a very universal experience that he naturally has shared.

“So I’m just going to—” Alex gestures towards the door, and the road.

“Yes,” George says. “Of course. It was lovely to—er. Encounter you.”

Alex’s mouth quirks up. He says, “It was lovely to encounter you, too.” And then he walks back into the outside world.

George is still dazed about the whole thing when he goes out a few minutes later to get himself a flat white, Lando having arrived back in the shop bearing only a drink for himself (“Oh, shit, I forgot you wanted something… I’d offer to go back out but my legs are really sore now, so…”). He’s not really looking where he’s walking, so it’s jarring but not surprising when he knocks into someone and spills his newly-acquired coffee down their chest. It’s surprising but somehow inevitable when he realises that someone is Alex Albon.

“You again. I’ve got to say, this encounter is less lovely,” Alex says, mopping irritatedly at his sopping t-shirt with his tiny scarf. George joins in, patting with his bare palm at Alex’s chest as if that’s going to help at all, then pulling his hand back like he’s been burned when Alex raises his sunglasses up so he can level George with a look.

“I—sorry! God, right, I swear I’m usually less of a mess”—this is untrue—“but I actually—if you want to get changed, into, you know, a non-drenched shirt, I actually live just over the street—”

Alex exhales, and slides his sunglasses back onto the face. “I’m fine, thanks. I’ll just… go on my coffee-covered way.”

“You can’t,” George says, “think of the headlines—‘Alex Albon in caffeine frenzy’—‘he didn’t realise you’re meant to drink it, sources say’—my house really is so close. We can get you all cleaned up in no time.”

Alex considers him for a long moment. “Give it to me in metres,” he says. And that’s how the rest of George’s life begins.

for @onadarklingplain, who suggested that notting hill au george would own a bookshop that only sold self-help.. nothing has ever been truer!! kay thank you for reading this over & for talking about galex with me 💓

#notting hill au #galex #my fic #gr63 #aa23 #in this au alex's terrible actor bf is christian horner

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devildom-moss · 2 years

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Valentine's Day Gifts

MC made chocolates for everyone on Valentine's Day, but it turns out that everyone also has a chocolate-themed present for MC. What did the Obey Me characters get you this year?

(All characters - including Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen x gn!MC) (platonic for Luke)

(SFW, but some characters are a bit suggestive)

Lucifer

He pulled out a jar of what looked like ground coffee mixed with cocoa powder. You gave him a confused look. He got flustered, realizing that he had forgotten something, and grabbed a card from the nearby table to give to you. You read the card:

Lucifer, thank you for your custom order. Making this Rose Vanilla Ground Cacao for you was a pleasure and an honor. Even without magic, we guarantee this blend will capture the heart of its recipient and soothe their soul. May your beloved be pleased with your tastes and our craftsmanship.

See brewing instructions on the back.

You smiled up at him, striking him with sudden affection. You looked so cute and pleased over his gift. Lucifer was doing his best to contain himself and hide his own joy, “I read that roasted cacao was growing in popularity as a coffee substitute. However, I couldn’t just get you something generic for Valentine’s Day. I could brew a cup for you now, if you’d like.”

“Thank you. I’d like that very much, my beloved,” you teased. His cheeks went pink.

Mammon

“Close yer eyes and turn around.” Mammon demanded.

“Why?”

“Just do it, or ya won’t get a gift at all.”

“Fine,” you complied, turning your back to him. You felt something cold around your neck, realizing what it was as Mammon hooked the clasp of the necklace. He placed his hand on your back and gently guided you across the room.

“’Perfect. Go ahead and look now,” Mammon spoke from behind you. His hands settled on your hips.

When you opened your eyes, you were standing in front of a mirror. A deep brown chocolate-colored pearl pendant, exquisitely carved into the shape of a heart, hung around your neck. It wasn’t traditional chocolate, but it was a uniquely Mammon-esque interpretation. You turned around to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, Mammon. It’s lovely.”

“I can’t have anyone showin’ me up today, so I wanted to get you somethin’ real special,” he spoke but he couldn’t look you in the eye. He wanted to tell you how hard he had worked to get that – how much trouble it had been, but he didn’t want to sully that sweet smile you had. “Looks good on you, my treasure.”

Leviathan

Levi had practically snuck up on you, popping up from around the corner, and screaming out your name. His entire face as pink as he stared at the ground, hand outstretched to you. He was holding two pink tickets. You could see a few hearts and Azuki-tan on them.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“I managed to get two tickets to an exclusive Valentine’s Day Ruri-chan pop-up café. They only sold 200 tickets, and you had to buy them in pairs. I thought we could go together – if you don’t mind going with a yucky otaku like me, that is.”

“I’d love to go!” You pulled him into a hug as if to squeeze the self-deprecation out of his body. He let out a squeak, but eventually hugged you back.

“Waa! I can’t believe you want to go with me. We have to try their lava cake special. It’s topped with a tiny chocolate Azuki-tan, and there are rumors that it’s baked with a magical charm that’s supposed to make lovers closer. They also have a white chocolate Ruri-chan parfait. The layers match Ruri-chan’s outfit! M-maybe we could get both and share them? Ahh! Just imagining you offering me a bite of either dessert is more than I can handle. This is going to be the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

Satan

“Ah, MC, could you grab the book on my nightstand?” Satan asked you without looking up from his current book.

“There are . . . eight books here, Satan.”

“The one on top, please.”

“Okay,” you grabbed the strange looking book. It was heavier than you expected for its size, and the balance of weight was off. A Love of Books and Chocolate was written on the cover. You handed it to Satan, but he put his hand up and set his book down.

“Open it up,” he smirked at you.

When you did, you realized that the reason that book felt so strange was because it was hallowed out and filled with chocolate bars – seven of them, to be precise. Each one had a wrapper with different cover art on it. Some of them were familiar. In fact, one of those books was setting right under the book of chocolates on Satan’s nightstand.

“They’re literary themed chocolates. Each one has a flavor that matches a popular piece of Devildom fiction. I set each corresponding book aside if you’d like to read them while you eat the chocolate – it has a long shelf life, so don’t worry about having to rush through the books. I could even read the books to you, if you’d like,” Satan informed you. It was so thought out, and you could tell that he wanted to share more of his interests with you.

“I’d love that, thank you.”

Asmodeus

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” Asmo whispered into your ear.

He had crawled into your bed that morning, and was sitting over you, straddling you and smiling down at you.

“Morning, gorgeous,” you smiled up at him, still half asleep. He was already dressed and he had drawn hearts freckles on his cheeks as a part of his make-up this morning. “You sure have a lot of energy. And happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Of course. I thrive on days of love like this. Get up, and I’ll help you get ready,” Asmo gave you a kiss before getting off of you.

He did as promised, going so far as to help you get undressed and even buttoning up your shirt for you. Once you had washed up and were dressed, he asked you to sit down so he could do your make-up.

“By the way, I have something for you,” Asmo grinned and pulled out a fancy, rococo-style lip gloss tube. “Today calls for chocolate lip cream! It’s supposed to leave your lips soft and sweet – like chocolate. Can I put it on for you, MC?”

“Of course.”

He gently applied the lip cream. Asmo nodded, “I knew that color would look amazing on you! Ugh, but now I want to mess it up and kiss you! Can I? I’ll reapply it for you when we’re done.”

Beelzebub

“MC, I have a Valentine’s Day gift for you.” Beel handed you a box excitedly. He was smiling widely, as if he was hardly containing himself. Then again, it made sense that he would be so happy on a day that involved so much candy and chocolate.

“Thank you, baby Beel. That’s so sweet.”

You opened the box to find an array of chocolate syrups. They had unique flavors that looked delicious, but you were taken aback by the fourth flavor: Chocolate Lunatic Pudding.

“Um, Beel, this is a great gift, but I can’t eat this one,” you lifted the bottle slightly, trying to remind him while recalling the one time you tried a bite of Lunatic Pudding and every demon was suddenly all over you. Had Beel forgotten? You felt bad for pointing it out, but you couldn’t risk that happening again.

“Oh, that one isn’t for you,” Beel remarked non-chalantly before leaning into your ear and whispering, “that one is for me to lick off of you.”

Belphegor

When you got home, you found Belphegor napping in your bed. Lying next to him was a thin blue box with a star map printed on the lid. You leaned over to give Belphegor a kiss on the cheek.

“Mmh, MC, welcome home.” Belphie had the wispy tone you were used to hearing when he woke up from a nap. He stretched.

“Whatcha got there Belphie?” you motioned towards the box.

“Shit, I hope they didn’t melt,” he yawned and handed the box to you, “happy Valentine’s Day.”

“For me?”

“Who else would I get chocolates for – well, aside from Beel? Take a look.”

You opened the box to find an assortment of galaxy painted chocolates – a gorgeous marble of blue, purple, and black with white flecks – and star shaped chocolates. The twins’ constellation (that they now shared with you) was painted on half of the galaxy chocolates.

“These are beautiful! Thank you.”

“You can thank me by joining me in bed.”

Diavolo

Diavolo summoned you to the student council room. When you arrived, he was sitting at his desk. A white box tied with a red ribbon was setting in front of him. Diavolo noticed you in the doorway and waved you in, “come in, MC! I called you here to give you a Valentine’s Day gift.”

He grinned from ear to ear – like a child who had just finished a drawing that he was excited to show you.

“You didn’t have to do anything special for me, Diavolo.”

“Nonsense! I wanted to do this,” Diavolo exclaimed. He pointed to the box on his desk, and it unwrapped itself, revealing a delicious-looking chocolate custard in a heart-shaped ramekin. “It’s common to make chocolate sweets for the one you desire, today. So, with some help from Barbatos, I made this chocolate custard for you. You won’t refuse it, will you?”

His eyes begged you not to refuse him. He looked so sweet and cute that you wondered how anyone ever found him intimidating. “Of course not! Thank you, Diavolo.”

“Excellent,” he laughed, “now, will you also allow me to feed you?”

Barbatos

“I’m sorry to call you here, MC. I’m sure this is a rather busy day for you, but would you do me the pleasure of joining me for tea?” Barbatos asked you at the castle doors. He didn’t show it, but he was holding his breath awaiting your answer.

“I’d be happy to join you.”

“Wonderful. This way, please.”

Barbatos led you to the garden. A vase of rainbow-colored roses sat on a table along with a tea pot, two dark brown cups on saucers, and a covered tray. He pulled a chair out for you.

On closer inspection, you realized that the teacups were actually sculpted out of chocolate. They were more ornate than most cups you had ever used. “Did you make all of this?”

“I did. The roses are from my garden, and I sculpted these cups especially for the tea I’ve prepared today. It’s my own blend of chocolate and cinnamon black tea. I’ve set aside a batch for you to take home and enjoy at your leisure, but today we’ll be enjoying an ice brew version of this blend – so as to not melt the chocolate cups. Feel free to eat your cup once you’ve had your tea, by the way. I also prepared chocolate cardamom shortbread cookies in anticipation of you accepting my invitation.”

“Barbatos, this is too much. I mean, I appreciate it, but wasn’t this too much effort?”

“Not at all. If you enjoy this tea with me, it was more than worth the effort. In fact, that adorable, flustered look on your face right now has already been more than enough,” he teased while pouring tea into both of your cups. Barbatos is the king of doing too much.

Luke

Luke was waiting outside of your first class of the day for you, eager to give you your Valentine’s Day gift. He had worked so hard on it, and he couldn’t wait to see your face – both in reaction to his gift and in general.

“Oi, chihuahua. What’s got ya lookin’ all chipper today?” Mammon greeted him.

“I’m not a dog, you rotten demon! I’m here for MC.” Luke barked back at him.

“What business ya got with them, Fido?”

“Mammon,” you sighed, “stop being rude to Luke and go on to class, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make it quick,” Mammon rolled his eyes and walked into the classroom.

“Sorry, Luke,” you apologized on Mammon’s behalf with a sheepish smile, “what did you want to see me for?”

“I baked this for you,” Luke handed you a small box. “You’re always helping me out, and I wanted to show my appreciation today.”

You opened the box to see a mini heart-shaped layer cake. The cake was pink with white buttercream and topped with a cherry and crystalized rose petals. It was almost too pretty to eat. He was so precious. Luke beamed when he saw the awe on your face. “The buttercream is made of white chocolate and the cake is cherry and rose flavored. Please eat if before Beel spots it, okay?”

“Will do! Thank you, Luke. This is so sweet.”

Simeon

Simeon had requested your presence at Purgatory Hall – “urgently” he said. However, he failed to elaborate, so when you arrived in a bit of a panic, he laughed, “oh, about that. . .”

“Simeon, you scared me,” you told him when he presented a thin rectangular box with a pink bow to you, “a Valentine’s Day gift is hardly urgent.”

“Sorry about that,” Simeon laughed again, “but I really needed to see you and give these to you today. I spent all of yesterday making them.”

You had to forgive him when he smiled so sweetly. Plus, he was giving you a present. You sighed, “next time, just tell me you want to see me. I’d be happy to visit you just for that reason.”

“You would? You really know how to make my heart race, don’t you?” He laughed the embarrassment away. He probably didn’t have to be so sneaky just to ensure he could give you a present, but he didn’t want to risk you declining him. He looked at you with anticipation, “well, aren’t you going to open it?”

The box contained seven macarons, arranged in an ombre color pattern – from a dark brown shell to beige to white. The buttercream and ganache in the center was also in an ombre pattern, going from white to pink to a deep red. They were so pretty, and if Simeon made them, you knew that he must have put a lot of thought into each one. He picked up the one with a dark brown shell and a white center and placed it in front of your mouth to feed you. “This one is dark chocolate, espresso with vanilla buttercream.”

You took a bite. “It’s delicious. Thank you, Simeon.”

“Of course, MC. I wonder, would you allow me to feed each one to you? I could tell you what flavor each one is before feeding you like I did just now.” He couldn’t get the thought of your lips grazing his fingers out of his mind.

Solomon

“MC, I made you something for Valentine’s Day.” Solomon was so cheerful as he said that, but dread filled your veins.

“Oh, Solomon, that’s not necessary. I’m happy just getting to see you today, honestly. I don’t need anything else.”

“Don’t be silly, MC. I obviously had to make something for my lover on Valentine’s Day, especially if you’re going to be receiving gifts from other people. I can’t be the only person to not get you something,” he chuckled and pulled a basket from behind his back. It wasn’t food. You sighed in relief as Solomon continued to explain, “now, the kitchen at Purgatory Hall was pretty packed between Luke and Simeon, so I couldn’t actually cook for you, but I have a lot of experience making beauty and bath products. I made mocha-scented soap, a dark chocolate and lavender bath bomb, and chocolate raspberry perfume.”

You could smell the soap from there, and it was delightful. You weren’t sure whether to be more grateful that Solomon had made you all of those products or that he hadn’t almost committed manslaughter by making you food. You hugged him tightly, “this is wonderful – much better than making chocolates!”

“I’m so glad you like it,” Solomon chuckled before placing a kiss on your neck, “you know, I could help you take a bath tonight if you want.”

Thirteen

“There you are,” Thirteen ran up to you while you were walking around the campus. “Geez, you should make yourself easier to find on a day like today, you know?”

“What?” you asked, confused.

“I shouldn’t have had to try so hard to find you on Valentine’s Day, that’s all. Especially when I finally finished working on your gift,” she feigned her annoyance, an obvious smile giving her away.

“You got me a gift?”

“Don’t act all surprised. Ta-da,” she threw her hands up, motioning towards a mechanical floating sheep that seemed to appear out of nowhere. This was undeniably one of her gadget-like traps. However, you weren’t sure how a trap made for a good Valentine’s gift – aside from that fact that it was cute. “Hey, no need to be worried. He’s 100% safe for you to use. I promise.”

“What’s he do?” you asked.

“Let me show you!” She pulled out a remote and pressed button #1 of 4 – well, actually, it was 3 numbered buttons and one red button. The sheep hovered over you and took out a large chocolate heart and a tiny hammer. It broken open the heart and confetti came floating out over both of your heads. Thirteen laughed, “pretty neat, right? The confetti is made of candy, so you’re welcome to eat it. Want to try another button? Just don’t press the red one.”

“Heck yeah,” you took the remote from here hand. The next button caused the sheep to pull out another heart and break it open. Two small clay chocolate heart charms fell into your hand – one for you and one for Thirteen. The third button dropped a bunch of individually wrapped chocolate hearts. “So, what’s the red one do?”

“This one breaks a heart filled with glitter and melted chocolate over the target. I was wondering if you’d like to try using this one on Solomon with me?”

Raphael

Even though you had made chocolates for Raphael, you hadn’t expected him to prepare a gift for you – especially not one that looked so cute and must have taken a long time. Raphael stood there in the hallway outside of your class, presenting a rather large chocolate macaron plush that required two hands to hold properly. The macaron “filling” even looked like a sheep.

“Did you make this?”

“Yes. I got back into sewing again.”

“For me?”

“Naturally.”

“Oh, Raph. It’s so cute! Thank you,” you took the plush and held it to your chest. It was so squishy and soft.

Raphael couldn’t resist smiling at you. While you were staring at the plush, you heard an airy, gentle laugh. Raphael cut himself short, returning to his placid look when you stared up at him. You had forgotten how sweet his laugh was. He averted his gaze and added, “I figured you could squish it or punch it the next time those brothers give you trouble.”

Mephistopheles

Mephistopheles requested your presence in the RAD Newspaper Club room. He unceremoniously handed you a bottle of Demonus. It was clear, even from your limited knowledge, that this was a pretty expensive bottle.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“Demonus – a special chocolate flavored edition, obviously.” What he didn’t mention was that it was an incredibly rare edition from a top-quality brand.

“I know that, but why are you giving this to me?”

“It was a gift from an acquaintance, but I have multiple cases of this one at home,” he said as if he was irritated that you wanted to know why he would give you a present. “Besides, I kind of owe you since you made chocolates for me this year. I’d hate to feel like I was in debt to you, so take it.”

You stifled a laugh at his arrogant façade. He was actually trying to be kind to you in his way. It was like taking the worst parts of Mammon and Lucifer and rolling it into one demon sometimes – but he would protest that comparison angrily. “Thank you, Mephisto. You’re being especially nice today. Although, you really didn’t have to do anything for me. I made chocolates for you because I wanted to, not so you would owe me.”

“Whatever. You can go now,” Mephisto waved you out, but reconsidered as you turned towards the door, “wait.”

“Hmm?”

He undercut his earlier air of indifference by adding, “if you like the Demonus, let me know. I can bring you another bottle or you can visit me, and we’ll have a drink together. I’m certain my collection is better than anything you would get from Lucifer at the House of Lamentation.”

A/N: surprise bonus this week~ I hope you all enjoy this one. Have a good Valentine's Day, and try to enjoy/celebrate love in whatever way in exists in your life.

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princesssarisa · 7 months

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I'm now reading Heidi Ann Heiner's book Cinderella Tales From Around the World. Hopefully it will make me as knowledgable about those stories as that inescapable old post of mine has probably made people think I am.

The different Cinderella stories are arranged in geographical order. So far I've read all the variants from Egypt, Greece, and Italy, and I'm about to start reading the German versions.

For now, I'll share the most interesting points from the versions I've read so far:

*Not all versions of the tale feature a stepmother and stepsisters. The Egyptian variants don't have any parents in them at all. In the proto-Cinderella story of Rhodopis, the title character is just a Greek slave-turned-courtesan with no family, while the other Egyptian tale, The Magic Jar, just has three sisters living together. Meanwhile, the Greek versions usually give the heroine a loving mother and two cruel biological sisters, with no father. In the Italian versions, there's almost always a father, but it varies whether the wicked women are the heroine's stepmother and stepsisters, or her own mother and sisters, or just two sisters with no mother.

*Greek versions typically have the heroine living with her mother and two older sisters. The sisters murder their mother, then cook and eat her flesh, but the grieving heroine lays her mother's bones to rest in a place of honor. Forty days later, the bones turn into three beautiful dresses and other finery and riches for her.

*Italian versions tend to come in two variants.

***One variant uses the archetypal "heroine's father goes on a journey" scenario, much like the Grimms' Aschenputtel or Beauty and the Beast. When he asks his daughters/stepdaughters for gift requests, the sisters want clothes, but the heroine asks for something unusual (e.g. a bird or a tree sapling), or else she asks him just to greet someone for her (e.g. a fairy, or a far-away relative), and when he does, that person gives him a tiny gift for her. Either way, the gift he brings back is what produces her finery.

***In the other variant, the heroine's stepmother or mother sends her out every day to pasture an animal (a cow, a sheep, or a goat), along with an impossible amount of spinning, weaving, or sewing to do. The animal tells the girl to place her work on its horns, and when she does so, it's magically done. Eventually, the (step)mother finds out and has the animal killed, but the heroine saves either the animal's bones or a golden ball she finds inside its body, and from there she gets her finery.

***That said, a few Italian versions include a fairy godmother-like figure: a kind old woman or a fairy who meets the heroine when she's out in the pasture and gives her a magic wand.

*In Italian versions with a stepmother as the villain, she typically starts out as the heroine's teacher or governess. She treats her kindly then, and urges the girl to convince her father to marry her, which she does. But after the marriage she turns cruel. (Some Italian versions of Snow White also begin this way.)

*Another detail from the Italian versions: in the "father goes on a journey" variants, the heroine warns her father that if he forgets her request, then his ship or his horse won't be able to move either forward or backward. He forgets, and sure enough, his ship or his horse freezes in place until he remembers.

*In the Greek versions, the special event the heroine attends in her magic finery is typically a Sunday church service. Some Italian versions have her go to church too, while others have a royal ball or festival, as does Egypt's The Magic Jar.

*In The Magic Jar, the heroine loses a bracelet instead of a shoe. I wonder if Gioachino Rossini and Jacopo Feretti knew about that version when they replaced the slipper with a bracelet for the sake of "propriety" in the opera La Cenerentola?

*In nearly all these versions, the heroine already has her magic source of finery and knows what it can do before the ball/church. So at no point does she beg to go, or cry because she thinks she can't go. She just lets her (step)family leave, then magically dresses herself.

*In both Greek and Italian versions, there are typically three balls or church services. Each time the heroine leaves, the prince has his servants chase after her. But the cunning heroine throws gold coins or jewels behind her, and the servants scramble to pick them up, letting her escape. Sometimes instead, or when she runs out of riches, she throws sand in their eyes to blind them. In a few versions, she doesn't lose her shoe by accident, but throws it to distract the servants because she has nothing else left to throw.

*Very rarely in any of these versions do the heroine and her prince actively "fall in love." They're not described as dancing together the way they do in the familiar Perrault and Grimm versions. The prince just sees her and falls in love with her beauty, with no mention of whether she ever speaks to him or not.

*In all three of these cultures, some versions continue after the heroine's marriage in the vein of the Grimms' Brother and Sister. The (step)mother and (step)sisters turn the newlywed heroine into a bird, or throw her into a river when she's weak from childbirth, or find some other way to get rid of her. But somehow or other she comes back to her husband in the end.

*The fate of the (step)mother and (step)sisters varies. In some versions, namely the ones where they try to get rid of the heroine after her wedding, they're executed. In some Italian versions that have just one stepsister, the stepmother puts the heroine in a pot or a barrel and plans to fill it with boiling water to kill her, but somehow or other she escapes and the stepsister takes her place, so the stepmother accidentally boils her own daughter to death. But in others, they're just left with their envy, and in still others, the heroine forgives them and shares her wealth with them.

I'll share more about different countries' variants as I read them!

@adarkrainbow, @ariel-seagull-wings, @themousefromfantasyland

#cinderella #fairy tale #variations #egypt #greece #italy #cinderella tales from around the world #heidi ann heiner #tw: murder #tw: cannibalism #tw: violence

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 months

Text

Fighter chapter 13

Note: a little filler chapter! Earlier chapters are: here.

Warnings: fluff, very very light angst for a split second.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Your husband revealed a sudden plan to you.

wordcount: 2,1k

Masterlist

You sat in the passenger seat of your husband's brand new Bugatti, which had a custom made red as blood interior. You stared with horror at the tiny glass jar that dangled from his rearview mirror.

Inside the tiny jar were his two knocked out teeth, softly clinking against their enclosure with each turn and speedbump Sihtric encountered, as he drove to the hotel you had booked which was a few towns over. Most people have a cute key chain dangle from that same mirror, but not Sihtric, no. Your husband; Sihtric Kjartansson, the former kickboxing world champion and current UFC fighter, just had to have his own two front teeth up there, to your disgrace. You truly couldn't stand the gap between his teeth nor the awful lisp he spoke with now. You knew he couldn't help it, but it was just so off putting to you that you just couldn't bear listening to him at all. So instead of talking, you cuddled and kissed… a lot. But only pecks on his bruised lips though, as kissing with tongue was also a big no for you since the fight. And although your husband understood why you were slightly repulsed by him, it still was a cause for tension, both sexual and non-sexual.

You arrived at the hotel in no-time, as Sihtric still liked to cross the speed limit with his ridiculously fast and expensive car. You didn't even tell him off anymore about his speeding, knowing after all this time together that he wouldn't listen anyway, and you'd receive the "don't tell me how to drive" speech from him if you did speak up, and you did not want to hear him talk right now.

When you checked in at the hotel and dropped your bags off in the room, not many words were exchanged, but your touches lingered and Sihtric was like a cat; headbutting and grabbing you lovingly to get your attention instead of using his words. And his soft hums and purrs told you he liked it whenever he had you caught in his arms and got to kiss your face all over. You couldn't lie; you enjoyed the silence of your husband not speaking and saying things without thinking, but you also truly missed the sound of his voice. You mainly missed his sleepy voice when you were in bed together, where he'd always tell you how much he loves and needs you before falling asleep, while squeezing you in his arms and peppering you all over with kisses. He had tried that the night before, after his fight, but his lisp had gotten worse with every word he spoke. So eventually you politely said, 'Honey, I love you too. But please, just shut the fuck up.' And so the silence had begun.

Sihtric didn't argue though and kept quiet as much as he could. He did love to rile you up, but after everything you'd both been through lately he wanted to give you a break. He would never confess it to you, because he was too cocky, but he agreed that his lisp was awful and that the gap between his teeth truly was a terrible look. He wished his teeth could be fixed sooner than next week, but it just wasn't an option. He also didn't really mind not speaking, even though it was sometimes hard to keep his silly little thoughts to himself. He just wasn't sure how the house viewing would go later that day, as he obviously had to speak at some point.

And without another word, but a few quick pecks on your lips, he took your hand as you both left the hotel room and went on your way to view your potential future home.

When Sihtric pulled up to the house, you were immediately taken aback by how much bigger it was than you expected. You had both agreed on the viewing, but the photos just didn't do justice to the actual size. The house was definitely smaller than the one Sihtric currently owned, but it was still too big in your opinion. It was a two story, old farm house that definitely needed to be fixed up, but you and Sihtric were actually excited to fix up a property and completely make it your own, but a place of this size was something else.

'Geeze,' you chuckled as you stared at the house, 'I thought we were going to live smaller.'

'It is smaller,' your husband shrugged, his awful lisp making you grimace.

'Yeah, but it's still… huge. I don't know about this, Siht,' you said before you got out of the car, 'it'll be a lot of work to fix this up. I can't even imagine the costs.'

'Give it a chance, bunny,' Sihtric lisped, 'and we have the money for it anyway.'

'Yeah, you have the money for it-'

'We have the money for it,' your husband cut you off, agitated, 'we're married. My money is your money too, and you know that. We both liked this place enough to go and view it, so at least give it a shot,' he hissed.

You rolled your eyes but knew Sihtric was right, you had both agreed on the viewing so you had to go into this more positively. You still struggled with the whole "his money being yours too" but you knew that was another argument you'd never win. Every time you had used your own money to buy something, which was basically still Sihtric's money as you earned it by being his physiotherapist, he'd transfer whatever amount you had spent right back into your account if he found a receipt of your purchase. You always threw out the receipts as fast as possible, so he wouldn't see it and give you the money, but sometimes you forgot to cut a tag out of a new clothing item in time. Other times Sihtric would notice something new in the house, whether it would be a vase or a frame, and he somehow always found out where you got it from and figured out the costs of it, and then you'd see the amount spent appear in your account again. You told him several times to stop that, but Sihtric was as stubborn as he was strong, and he wouldn't listen.

When you got out of the car you were greeted by the real estate agent, who told you right away that the huge fields you had passed only a moment ago were also part of the property.

'Really?' you smiled and nudged Sihtric while the agent made his way inside the house already, 'babe, we could keep horses here!'

'Horses?' Sihtric sputtered and scoffed, 'what are you going to do with a horse?'

'Take care of it? And ride it, duh.'

'Well,' Sihtric shrugged and then smiled widely, 'you don't need a horse, you can ride me anytime.'

You stared into his eyes and then at the gap between his teeth, and you gave him a disapproving look.

'Yeah, I'll ride you when you fix your teeth,' you muttered.

'You can ride me and we'll switch off the lights.'

'And hear you lisp in the dark?' you shuddered, 'I don't think so. Look, horses are-'

Sihtric clicked his tongue and cut you off again, 'Bunny, we're not getting horses.'

'But why not? Look at all this space,' you gestured at the land.

'Because!' he hissed, 'I just don't want it. I'll get you anything, darling, but not horses.'

'Sihtric,' you snorted, 'are you afraid of horses?'

'What? No!' he lisped, 'I- I-... we don't have time for this, come on,' he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him, 'let's go and see the house.'

You kind of hated how easily you both fell in love with the property, and when you stood in the last room there was to view, you already knew Sihtric would place a bid as soon as possible. Sihtric had been glad to see your attitude about the place turn around, and you were beaming with smiles and positivity throughout the viewing, but that abruptly changed.

'This is the last room, it's not huge but it's perfect for a study or a home office, or even for a baby room,' the agent smiled, having no idea who Sihtric was or what you two had been through, which had been refreshing, up until now.

Your smile disappeared immediately and Sihtric noticed you completely shut down as you stared down at your feet.

'Eh, yeah,' Sihtric finally spoke, which confused the agent but he pretended to not see the gap or hear the lisp, 'about the, eh, the lands,' he sniffed, 'are we allowed to build on it?'

'Absolutely,' the agent said, 'you need to request a permit though, but it is allowed. Got big plans then, huh?'

'Perhaps,' Sihtric lisped while you turned away and stared out the window, fighting your tears, 'are the fields dog friendly? Like no poisonous plants or anything?'

'Oh, eh,' the agent chuckled, 'our information told us nothing about that, so it should be safe. Also the fields have fences already, so that saves you some money if you think of owning a dog or two.'

'Yeah, just a dog or two,' Sihtric smiled, and the agent stared at the gap between his teeth.

'So, eh,' the agent cleared his throat, 'I'll give you, eh, some time to view the place on your own. How about we meet outside in half an hour?'

Sihtric nodded in agreement, and the agent left down the stairs. Sihtric kept quiet until he knew the real estate agent couldn't hear you two anymore, and then he walked up to you at the window.

'So, do you like the place?' Sihtric asked and tried to sneak his arms around your waist.

'Yeah,' you mumbled and tried to leave the room, but your husband was fast to grab your hand.

'Bunny,' he whispered and pulled you into his arms, where you began to cry, 'I know,' he murmured as he held you tightly, 'I know, bunny.'

Sihtric wiped a tear of his own while you tried to pull yourself away from the thought that you'll probably never need a baby room in this house, even though the room you were in would indeed be perfect for it. After a short moment Sihtric leaned back slightly and took your chin, making you look up at him.

'Kiss?' he asked, to which you sniffled and smiled softly, then proceeded to kiss his lips.

'I love you,' he whispered, 'more than anything. Do you like this place, bunny? Can you see us live here?'

'I love you too,' you said, and Sihtric wiped your tears as you nodded, 'and I can see us live here,' you sniffled, 'I do like this place, but it's just quite big. And the land is great but it's also… it's so much, Sihtric, isn't it too much for just the two of us? You know we won't have… c-children. So…''

'But who said it'll be just the two of us forever?' Sihtric cupped your cheeks, 'hm?'

'What do you mean? You're talking about getting a dog?' you smiled and then scoffed, 'you know I love dogs, but… a dog or two won't fill up this massive space, honey.'

'I know,' he said, 'but there's something I haven't told you. Something I've been thinking of quite often lately. We don't really have anything we can do together, during our time off I mean. We enjoy doing different things, but when we're both home we just either vegetate on the couch or we fuck,' he chuckled, 'which I enjoy too. But I also want something we can both put our time in, something we built from scratch together and something that'll keep us busy too outside of our jobs. Something that… that could be a plan for the future too maybe, when my contract ends eventually, you know? I'm not going to be fighting forever, not on this level at least, so…'

'Sihtric, what are you talking about? What on earth do you want to do together that could,' you shook your head, confused, 'that could be a plan for the future for us?'

'Dogs,' Sihtric lisped heavily, then he smiled and took your hands, 'a dog shelter, bunny. Or a sanctuary, whatever. A place for older dogs and sick dogs that no one wants to take care of anymore. The dogs that no one wants to fight for anymore, while they desperately want and deserve a loving home too. We'd have the space here. We have the money and we can make the time for it. You and I both know we have so much love to give, so let us be the ones who can give that to those forgotten dogs. I want to build a place for them to spend their last years at, and give them good years. They'll spend it together with us, bunny. I want this to be our thing.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @succnfuccubus @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin @lexwolfhale @dixie-elocin @m-a-s-h-k-a

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #modern!sihtric

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