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inkmonster21 · 1 month ago

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I Don’t Play Anymore

Hwang In-Ho / Frontman x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

As the daughter of the American Frontman, your life takes an unexpected turn as you accompany him to South Korea, to witness the 33rd Annual Squid Games. Being a spectator to the violent events unfolds, and you find yourself unexpectedly connecting with the Frontman.

01. Red Light, Green Light

The American Frontman had traveled to Korea with a purpose: to observe and learn from the infamous underground games. He wanted to gather as much knowledge as possible, so he could translate those elements into the games hosted in the United States.

He was a sharp, cunning individual, drawn to the spectacle of carefully crafted games that challenged people's wits, morals, and will to survive.

The American game maker, accompanied by a small security team and his daughter, boarded the boat that would take them to the remote island where the games took place.

You were well-acquainted with the concept of these games, having experienced firsthand the high-stakes thrill of your father's smaller-scale games. These events, limited to no more than 50 players, unfolded at a rapid pace, often concluding in just one day.

The games held a dark legacy within your family, a tradition passed down through generations. You had participated in the games four years ago, and emerged victorious, a title that filled you with both accomplishment and guilt. Your father, the current game master, was proud, carrying on a legacy started by your great-grandfather. The competition held its price - the cost of taking lives - but the thrill and satisfaction of victory outweighed any lingering doubts and remorse.

You were accompanying your father on a journey to the annual games held in Korea. This trip was more than just a spectator's view; it was an opportunity for both of you to learn and gain insights from the complex and ruthless games that unfolded on foreign soil.

The boat swayed and rocked as it navigated through the waves, and you gripped the railing tightly, a mix of annoyance and slight unease present on your face. You had never been fond of boats, finding the continuous motion and the vast expanse of water beneath you unsettling.

Frustration tinged your voice as you raised your phone, attempting to catch a single bar of service. The signal was weak, barely catching the faintest hint of a connection.

"I can't even get a single bar out here!" you exclaimed, the lack of reception leaving you disconnected from the world.

Your father, observant as always, shifted his gaze towards you. His expression was serious, and he spoke calmly.

"Do you really need it anyway?"

He raised an eyebrow, subtly questioning the need for constant connection and the distraction that technology often provided.

You nodded in response, your response coming out in a confident tone.

"Um, yes. Anderson said he was going to send the address of his friends' club. There's supposed to be a big party, and I can not miss that."

Your father's face remained impassive, but a small flicker of amusement flashed in his eyes at your eagerness for the party.

Your father chuckled, “maybe you can make some new friends, tell them about the good opportunities we could offer,” a hint of amusement in his tone. However, your reply, about friendships being cut short by the nature of your upbringing, carried a touch of bitterness.

"Yeah, and then have them killed. I swear I haven't had a friendship longer than 2 years because of you assholes." Your voice held a mix of frustration and resignation.

Your father's response was curt, and he reprimanded you harshly. "That 'asshole' paid for the Louboutins you're standing in," he scoffed. "I'd fix that attitude before we arrive. You don't want to make me look bad here, (y/n)."

His words held a mix of authority and warning, subtly reminding you to maintain decorum and uphold the family reputation.

As the boat neared the island, your father's head of security handed him a black crystal mask, shaped with the features of the mythical jackalope, adorned with its own set of black shimmering jeweled horns. The mask was a masterpiece, exuding a sense of power and exclusivity.

Your father's head of security handed you a smaller, more delicate mask, its design resembling an innocent rabbit compared to the intimidating jackalope. You looked at the mask with a hint of disdain, a scoff escaping your lips.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" you asked, your tone tinged with a mix of stubbornness and skepticism. Your father's tone was terse, his words simple yet commanding. "Wear it," he instructed firmly, his gaze unwavering. Without hesitation, he placed the black jeweled mask onto his own face, the mask accentuating his features in an eerie way.

With a reluctant sigh, you followed suit, slipping on the elegant black jeweled rabbit mask. The coolness of the metal against your skin sent a faint shiver down your spine. The intricate design of the mask felt both elegant and concealing, a subtle reminder of the event you were about to become a part of.

The black masks placed on the security men's faces only heightened your sense of unease, solidifying the gravity of the situation. The cold realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of regret. A whisper of doubt echoed in your mind, questioning whether staying home would have been a wiser choice. The island loomed ahead, a silent harbinger of the events yet to unfold.

As the boat neared the island, your father's tone held a tinge of seriousness, his words a stern command.

"I want you to pay attention to these games," he stated firmly, his gaze firm. "Observe the players, observe their responses, and see what makes the mind break." The stern words of your father echoed in your mind, his authority unwavering. "Yes, father," you responded, a mix of obedience and reluctance in your voice.

The boat docked, the path ahead uneven and treacherous, especially given the choice of footwear you wore. The path was clearly unwalked and unsteady, making it difficult for you to navigate properly. As you cautiously made your way along the path, you stumbled upon a seemingly invisible hatch door, hidden from prying eyes. The head of security stepped forward, punching in a code and signaling to a hidden camera. The hatch door slowly creaked open, revealing a descending staircase.

As the hatch door opened, you were met with the sight of a man dressed in a striking pink jumpsuit, his mask featuring a distinctive square shape. Behind him were an entourage of four pink-masked guards, each adorning black masks lined with triangles. The contrast of the bright colours and masks against the dim lighting of the stairwell created an atmosphere of surrealism and foreboding.

The head of security's words cut through the silence, his tone low and guarded.

"These are the American game makers," he spoke, his voice holding a mix of neutrality and wariness. "They've been anticipating their arrival."

The man in the pink jumpsuit responded in a simple, yet eerie tone that sent a chill down your spine.

"Yes," he said simply, "please, follow me." Without a moment's hesitation, he turned and began walking down the dimly lit stairwell, his guards falling into a precise formation behind him.

As you followed the pink-suited man up the staircase, you couldn't help but observe the surroundings, taking in the bright colors and cheerful décor. The room was intentionally designed to appear playful and pleasant, a stark contrast to the darkness and mystery that shrouded the truth.

You were led towards a pair of imposing double doors, their golden handles gleaming beneath the lights. The pink-suited man stepped inside, his voice carrying a respect and formality. "Sir, the American game maker has arrived," he announced, his words carrying a weight of significance. The doors opened wider, revealing a grand room.

As you entered the grand room, your gaze fell upon the imposing figure across from you - a man clad in a sharp black suit, his distinctive black mask adorned with a hood. His presence immediately commanded attention and respect, and you couldn't help but make the connection - this must be the Frontman, the counterpart to your father's role.

Your father stepped forward and introduced himself to the Frontman, ignoring your presence. You were not the focus here; you were merely a spectator, a silent observer, your importance seemingly diminished. The sense of insignificance gnawed at you, but you remained composed, maintaining a stoic expression as you watched the encounter unfold.

The Frontman spoke, his voice authoritative and confident. "It is a pleasure to have you witness our 33rd Annual Squid Games," he echoed with a practiced smile, his gaze fixed on your father.

The words echoed in the grand room, a stark reminder of the gravity and spectacle of the events about to unfold - the annual game where lives were on the line, and the consequences were severe.

Your phone buzzed, interrupting the tense atmosphere. With a pleased smile, you reached into your purse and retrieved the device. As you sat down on one of the couches lining the wall, you muttered, "Finally," under your breath. Despite the gravity of the occasion, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the distraction, grateful for a moment of respite from the tension.

You scrolled through the texts from your friends, their pleas for glamourous pictures from your vacation with your father only fueled your growing urge to break away and explore. As you glanced up, observing the room and the ongoing conversation, you weighed the option of sneaking out to indulge in something exciting of your own.

Just as you stood, preparing to casually leave the room, your father called out to you, his command firm and unwavering.

"Sit," he ordered, his voice stern. You froze in your tracks, the words reverberating in your mind. Your desire to step away and explore was abruptly brought to a halt by his authoritarian command.

“I’m just going to go-,” The click of the gun echoed in the room, causing you to halt your words. Your father's stern glare and the sight of him pointing the pistol at you filled you with a mix of fear and resignation. You reluctantly walked to the designated chair diagonally across from him and sat down, your eyes locked on the gun. It was a tactic he had used before, but it never failed to send a wave of fear through you, reminding you of the consequences of disobedience.

Despite being his daughter, you couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that your father wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. The tension in the room was palpable, and the cold, unwavering gaze of the gun sent chills down your spine.

You muttered your apology, the words leaving your lips with a mixture of guilt and resignation. Your father's glare softened slightly as he lowered the pistol, a hint of acknowledgment in his eyes. He said nothing, merely giving a subtle nod, acknowledging your apology but still keeping a watchful eye on you.

Your father turned his attention back to the Frontman, continuing the conversation with a casual tone.

"Kids," he remarked nonchalantly, referring to you with a subtle nod in your direction. "They can be quite a handful." You remained still in your seat, trying to blend into the background, silently absorbing the words exchanged between your father and the Frontman.

As the Frontman stared at you, his masked gaze fixed upon you, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of acknowledgment. His gesture, the slight tilt of his head, conveyed a silent curiosity. Without fully understanding why, you responded with a subtle nod of your own, a silent acknowledgment passing between you.

The Frontman's curiosity grew as he observed you, his masked gaze now filled with deeper intrigue. There was a hint of concern beneath the hard exterior, a subtle indication of his genuine interest in your well-being. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but there was an undeniable pull to ensure your safety and comfort.

The Frontman broke the silence, offering a gesture of hospitality. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, his voice calm yet with a touch of formality. The offer seemed almost casual, a small gesture amidst the tense atmosphere, but the underlying purpose remained clear - to maintain control and ensure everyone was comfortable while the games began.

With a grateful nod, you accepted the Frontman's offer of a drink. The nerves were building within you, and the thought of numbing the tension even slightly was enticing.

"Please," you replied, your voice carrying a mix of relief and anticipation, while your father remained stoic in his seat, observing the interaction with a guarded expression.

The guards moved swiftly and efficiently, providing you with a drink with remarkable speed. You couldn't help but appreciate the efficiency and the thoughtfulness of the gesture, offering a small nod to convey your gratitude, your smile tinged with a hint of tension. Your father watched the exchange with a guarded expression, his eyes scrutinizing every move you made, observing your every reaction.

The moment had arrived. The games were about to commence, and the first event was set to be red light, green light. A seemingly simple premise, yet the tension and anticipation hung heavily in the air. The atmosphere seemed charged with anticipation and the potential for both triumph and defeat.

As the screen lit up, the scene unfolded before your eyes. The field of players, clad in green tracksuits, moved forward, their movements slow and measured as they explored their surroundings. Their attention was immediately drawn to the large doll stationed at the far end, a sight that both captivated and unnerved.

The calm and cheerful voice echoed through the field, issuing the directive.

"Please stand behind the white line drawn on the field," it repeated, the words resonating in the air. "Once again, will all players please stand behind the white line and await further instructions."

The players, dressed in green tracksuits, stood in a line behind the white line, seemingly unaware of the danger that loomed ahead. They followed the instructions with obedience, showing no signs of comprehending the true nature of the games they had willingly entered. There was a sense of blind trust, oblivious to the impending chaos and violence that awaited them.

The phone on the small table beside you rang abruptly, catching your attention. The Frontman moved closer, answering the call with a sense of authority. "This is the Frontman speaking," he said, his voice carrying a confident yet somewhat chilling tone. "We can begin now," he confirmed.

The Frontman took his seat beside you, maintaining a respectful yet noticeable distance between you. However, you couldn't help but feel a subtle sense of unease as you felt his gaze on the small parts of your face that were left uncovered by the mask. There was an intensity to his gaze that felt almost disquieting, a mix of curiosity and observation, his eyes seemingly taking in every detail of your features.

The Voice's tone carried a blend of cheerfulness and authority, as it instructed the players on the imminent event.

"You will be playing Red Light, Green Light," the voice announced, a tone of gleeful anticipation evident in its words. The players, dressed in green, stood still, their expressions a mix of anticipation and tension, their eyes focused on the voice coming through the speakers.

The rules of the game were explained with a strange blend of innocence and coldness.

"You are allowed to move forward when 'it' shouts 'Green Light,' stop when 'it' shouts 'Red Light.' If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated," the voice stated, its tone maintaining a mix of childlike playfulness and the harsh reality of the consequences they faced.

The voice continued, outlining the rules of the game with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Those players who cross the finish line without being eliminated within the five-minute playtime will pass this round," it explained. There was a pause, a dramatic moment of anticipation, before the voice concluded, "With that, let the game begin." As the words echoed in the air, the players braced themselves, the tension palpable.

The doll, with its childlike voice, issued the first command.

"Green light," it declared, its voice a mix of innocence and underlying menace. With those words, the game officially commenced. As the game began, a few players eagerly surged forward, attempting to make progress toward the finish line.

In an instant, the tension heightened as the voice announced, "Red light." The players, who had been moving forward, came to an abrupt stop, frozen in their tracks, their bodies gitty with anticipation.

You couldn't help but tense up at the sudden sound of a gunshot, the gunshot breaking the tense silence, causing your body to flinch involuntarily.

The voice, cold and unforgiving, announced the first casualty of the game. "Player 324. Eliminated."

The players, engrossed in the game, had yet to fully comprehend the true nature and danger of the situation. Despite the gunshot, most of them were still caught up in the excitement of the competition, their attention focused on the doll and the race to the finish line. The reality of the violence and life-or-death stakes hadn't fully sunk in for many participants.

As one player finally looked down at his dying friend, the reality and gravity of the situation became undeniable. Fear shot through their eyes, and realization dawned on their face. The cheerful facade shattered as they faced the brutal truth of the game's nature, a truth that left them shaken to the core. It was a moment of sobering clarity, the illusion of a simple game evaporating before their very eyes.

The chaos unfolded as panicked players rushed to the entrance doors, desperately trying to flee. However, their efforts were futile as one by one, they were shot by the hidden snipers in the walls.

The voice echoed through the loudspeakers once again, repeating the rules of the game with a chilling precision.

The remaining players, shaken and terrified, listened intently as the rules were reiterated, their hearts pounding in their chests.

"You are allowed to move forward when 'it' shouts 'Green Light' and stop when 'it' shouts 'Red Light.' If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated," the voice stated, its tone cold and methodical.

Your father, visibly engrossed in the spectacle, couldn't contain his excitement. "Amazing first choice," he chuckled, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and enthusiasm. "We simply can't do it yet. We need more players on sight. But this is amazing!" His words showcased the twisted nature of the games and the satisfaction the game makers derived from the chaos and bloodshed.

Your father turned his gaze to you, seeking your opinion on the unfolding events. "What do you think, (y/n)?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone, as though he was eager to gauge your reaction to the unfolding spectacle.

Your words came out in a matter-of-fact tone, the practical aspect of the situation evident in your response.

"It's the best choice for the first game," you stated, a sense of realism lacing your words. "It gets rid of the mass amount of players and shows them the outcome if they don't listen. It's practical." Your father seemed pleased with your assessment, a subtle nod indicating his agreement and approval of your observation.

The Frontman, listening to your words, couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for your practicality and realistic approach. He appreciated the way you had analyzed the situation and made a rational observation. In a world where brutal violence was the norm, your sensible view stood out, and he respected it quietly.

The game continued, the voice's cold instructions echoing through the field as players met their fate. Each round of "Red Light" brought a new wave of eliminations, the remaining players trembling in fear and uncertainty. The game was a deadly, ruthless spectacle, leaving the players in a state of constant tension and anxiety.

Your attention was drawn to the small figurine band that came to life, playing a gentle tune. As "Fly Me to the Moon" filled the room, you turned to the Frontman, a surprised smile gracing your face.

The Frontman's gesture took you by surprise, his action a mix of playfulness and unexpected charm amidst the cold, violent world of the games.

Despite the tense atmosphere, the Frontman's decision to play "Fly Me to the Moon" softened the mood slightly. As the song played, you crossed your legs, your voice carrying a slight tone of contentment.

"I like this song," you remarked, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

The Frontman's eyes flickered, his gaze briefly meeting yours, as he acknowledged your comment. There was a subtle sense of understanding in his gaze, a glimpse of a shared appreciation for the song that created a brief moment of connection between you two.

The moment of connection and shared appreciation between you and the Frontman provided a sliver of hope that this trip could indeed become more enjoyable than you had initially anticipated. The games were still unfolding, and the tension in the room lingered, but there was a hint of warmth in the air.

#hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho #in ho x reader #squid game x reader #squid game #squid game fanfic #hwang in ho fanfic #in ho fanfic #player 001 #player 001 x reader

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eskumii · 2 months ago

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yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha + darling who's secretly half uchiha hcs

TITLE: " LIKE WATER, LIKE BLOOD " — navi. — general yandere!sasuke hcs.

NOTES: i've been randomly feinin over naruto again and this idea just won't leave me alone :'D don't press me on lore specific stuff i just yap and pretend it's true ok. also i accidently posted this b4 it was finished ... if you read that, no u didn't.

☆ you're no stranger to the fact that your mother had an affair with an uchiha man a few years before the entire clan was slaughtered like cows. your father had been a high-ranking official in fugaku's inner circle, but you had never learned his name, even when he secretly visited you and your mother on weekends between his missions and clan dealings.

☆ this is not to say, of course, that he was a bad man. he often tried to instill core uchiha values into you (never dishonor the uchiha clan name, always seek to carry on its legacy and strength, etc..) but nothing ever seemed to stick. you were more interested in the little trinkets he would bring you: necklaces, bracelets, hair ribbons, hand fans, and various other accessories that were often branded with the uchiha symbol. none of it was ever worn out in public, though, so you just hung them on your walls instead.

☆ after your father's death, you eventually distanced yourself from the uchiha side of your identity as it had always been steeped in secrecy and the fear of scrutiny from the third hokage/konoha elders/villagers who felt strongly about the nine tails attack. after all, you aren't supposed to exist. you're not sure what your mother was thinking when she got knocked up at such a politically fragile time, when the uchiha clan were still under fire for conspiracy and treason.

☆ at the academy, you intentionally avoid sasuke. you've probably spoken to him a handful of times—many of which were him telling you to get out of his way, or to shut up if you were talking too loud with your friends (your assigned seat was directly behind his, unfortunately).

☆ it isn't until much later after you graduate from the academy and are placed into teams that sasuke somehow finds out you're also an uchiha. whether someone told him or he just... knew, you do not know. at this point, you haven't seen him in months (you're on different teams), so him appearing on the landing outside of your open window is a very startling jumpscare.

☆ he takes one look around your room, which has uchiha merch strung up all over the place, and is immediately pissed at you. all this time there was another surviving member of his clan and he had no clue? and it was you, of all people?

☆ sasuke always thought you were weird and suspicious during your days at the academy. whenever he interacted with you, you would cower from him, almost looking ashamed. you were adept at everything he was and, as much as he used to hate admitting it, you were often his competition when it came to scoring at the top of various skill tests. looking back, it all makes sense: the blood in your veins is special, as uchiha children often are. as he is. and now, instead of callousness, he feels a kindling of pride at your excellence.

☆ it takes no time at all for everything to change between you and sasuke. after he barges his way into your room (you don't how he found out where you live in the first place?!), he forces you to explain why you lied about being an uchiha. you have no choice but to comply after his threatening glares pin you into submission and he refuses to let you past him until you talk.

☆ sasuke really doesn't care that you're a "half uchiha." you descended directly from a member of the uchiha clan so as far as he's concerned, you're his kin through and through. this discovery immediately sparks something primal in sasuke, like a desprate clinging to preserve what has been, and to protect what can be.

☆ you're often dragged away to secluded places by sasuke—the training grounds, usually. you try to fight but sasuke is just stronger than you and you are easily wrestled into defeat; a reoccuring pattern that makes you feel unsafe around him. but despite your growing feelings of contempt towards sasuke, he is brutally relentless in his pursuit of you or, rather, his pursuit of molding you into a proud uchiha who is willing to restore the legacy of his clan with him.

☆ the uchiha boy is a little worried that you lack so many of the values that he himself has been taught by his parents and itachi. you don't know much about the sharingan nor the clan's signature great fireball technique. so he starts there.

☆ let's be honest though: you're not interested in being lectured on the history of the clan by sasuke, but you're not entirely opposed to learning a new jutsu so you allow him to train you for now. whenever you mess up or ask too many questions, he'll sigh in very clear annoyance but bites back any insult as a mercy to you.

☆ you notice how much more patient he is towards you. how he quietly praises you when your little flame grows, how he immediately checks on you when you're winded from using too much chakra. there's a general closeness that never existed before (sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, physically guiding your hands into signs, or poking your forehead when you say or do something he thinks is dumb). it's all strangely... intimate.

☆ the frequency of his visits begin to increase as the days go by, and there were a few times where you would wake up in the middle of the night to see him standing over you. obviously, this scares you, and you have to keep sasuke's sudden intrusions into your bedroom a secret from your mother, so you begrudgingly agree to his strict schedule of meeting at his apartment at least four times a week instead of him breaking into yours.

☆ in the following months, you see a side of sasuke that you're sure no one else has seen. one that isn't carefree, but deeply emotional and reactive, especially when it comes to you. soon enough, he reveals his plan of revenge against itachi to you. you're shocked that he would go to such a length, and the sentiment is not shared by you at all.

☆ before sasuke leaves the village, he of course tries to convince you to come with him. you aren't a fool, though. despite settling into your uchiha heritage at this point, you're no destined avenger. you followed along with sasuke's strange intrusion into your life thus far, but this is where you draw the line. you refuse.

☆ "no? what the hell, [name]? you're an uchiha." he'll spit heatedly, arresting you by the hand when you turn to walk away from him. "your duty now is to kill itachi and restore our clan. don't think for a second that you can just run away from this. from me."

☆ and... he's right. one way or another, you find yourself a traitor to konoha for the sake of the blood that binds you to sasuke. what happened to his family, he won't let happen to you. this time, he's the one who'll kill to protect the one he loves, even if you hate him for doing it against your will.

#yandere x reader #yandere sasuke uchiha x reader #yandere sasuke hcs #yandere sasuke uchiha #yandere uchiha #yandere uchiha x reader #yandere #yandere naruto #genin sasuke x reader #sasuke x reader #naruto x reader #naruto headcanons #naruto

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w2sology · 11 months ago

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Hi can u do harry with shy and pregnant reader who ìs like a little sister to rest of the sidemen

nerf or nothing, harry lewis.

summary: the boys come over to spend a bit of time with you and harry, and they come bearing gifts!

warnings: pregancy (idk if that's even a warning?)

notes: as a shy person myself, some of this writing is heavily self inserted 🥲

"what if they don't end up liking football though?"

"then we can try darts. or hey, even rugby."

"harry."

it was past noon and you and harry were discussing things that parents to be often discussed, only harry was focused on the later years of your child's life.

the two of you sat in bed, your back leaning against his chest as you sat in between his legs, loads of catalogues scattered around you both.

"oh, about the pram that you were talking about before," harry mentioned.

"yeah?"

"ethan said faith had loads of websites, she could send them to you if you wanted?"

"oh, god, yes." you sighed contentedly, no longer feeling the stress of having to look for a perfect pram. "or better yet, tell her that she can come over, i haven't seen her or olive in a minute."

harry told you that he'd let ethan know, kissing your forehead before leaving to the kitchen to fix you both a snack.

whilst he was in the middle of pouring you a glass of cranberry juice ─── "it's good for the body harry," you told him, to which he replied with "no, rank is what it is," ─── the doorbell rang.

confused as to who you were both expecting or if it was yet another baby purchase coming in, harry sat the glass on the counter and made his way to the door.

before he could even open it, he knew who it was judging by the loud voices and the bickering of what sounded like jj and simon.

"just ring it once, mate, they can definitely hear." simon groaned, trying to obstruct jj, who clearly didn't listen and kept pressing the doorbell, which earned your attention from upstairs.

harry stood a little away from the door, contemplating what would happen if he just turned around and pretended not to hear the commotion happening outside.

"we can see you, harry," ethan called from through the letterbox. so much for that plan.

harry sighed before opening the door, a smile plastered on his face as his friends all cheered, seeing them bound with gifts and food and other things.

the soft sound of your footsteps made them all turn their head to where you were on the stairs, your baby bump proudly peeking through harry's oversized shirt that you had on.

"oh," you shyly smiled. "hi guys." you didn't think they'd all be here, but there they were.

one by one they came up to you, hugging you and saying their hi's or hello's, asking how you were. and you'd reply with the same, you were doing good, more tired than usual, all that stuff.

whilst harry and simon carried the gifts and food bags to the living room, toby linked your arm with his as he walked you there, making sure you were sat comfortably before harry and simon joined.

harry, being attracted to you like a magnet, squished in next to you, his body on the edge of the sofa as you leant on him.

there was never a moment of silence when the boys came over, and like the listener you were, you loved it.

toby began to explain what each of the gifts were for, considering you didn't know the gender of the baby yet, most of then were just toys. but then again, with them being the slightly immature bunch if men they were, the toys were things like legos and nerf guns or huge dollhouses for toddlers.

"what the hell is a baby going to do with a nerf gun?" harry asked.

"i thought you of all people would like this gift," jj gasped, hand on his chest as he feigned hurt at harry's words.

"no, i'm just saying boys..." and there started the debate over suitable toys for children.

you turned to vik with a look that said 'help me' yet all he did was shrug.

"harry, a couple of months ago you would've been on board with this idea. y/n, what did you do to him?" ethan pointed a finger at you.

"what— me? he's right, a nerf gun's for toddlers, not babies!" you defended yourself.

harry's chest moved up and down as he laughed behind you, even more so at the way you groaned and his your face in your hands.

"i'm not ready for harry's mature era," simon commented.

"mature and harry don't belong in the same sentence," vik added.

"oh my days," harry mumbled as they launched into a new topic, harry's maturity level.

as they all introduced their own point, you just smiled and laughed along as you leant on your boyfriend, feeling even more excited for your baby to be welcomed into the family.

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen x reader #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis x reader #sidemen #wroetoshaw imagine #harry lewis

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canine-witch · 18 days ago

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What Omens Have You Missed?

With the New Year comes new energy, and also new omens to look for. I recieved message that some of you have been getting omens, visions, or symbols that you have either failed to heed or ignored entirely. In the chaos, we can often forget to notice and be grateful for what we have. This reading is to tell you and show you what you have missed, and reveal the information you need to know.

Drink some water, pick a pile, and feel free to discard what does not resonate with you.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Group One ~ Gray Clouds

You haven't been noticing the omens in nature, seeker. The world may seem mundane at this moment, but there are signs for you. Watch for omens in living and dead creatures, especially foxes and moths. Dead flora and fauna may indicate a warning, perhaps for some negative energy, infighting, or bad luck coming your way. Living flora and fauna, especially ones that seem out of place, indicate good luck and prosperity on the horizon. You may be looking up at the sky more, this is your sign to watch for omens through the clouds, stars, and birds above you. Farms and feasts may be symbolic. Your angel numbers are 111, 555, and 777. Listen carefully seeker, the blessings may be promised where you least expect them. Use discernment and your intuition.

Group Two ~ City Clouds

You have been misinterpreting your omens, seeker. There may be many strange omens around you, which may initially frighten you. Depictions of monsters, especially those which look like serpents or goats, may carry good omens. Keys, raging stormy waters, chains, and grapes may also be popping up in your life. For some of you who work with mirrors, you may have seen an image in the mirror, or became frightened by something in your mirror. These are all symbols of your journey reclaiming yourself. The demonic or scary images you've been taking as bad omens, represent recalling something of yourself others took from you, especially in romantic relationships. You are recalling your appearance, your identity, and your destiny, and you are not a monster for doing so. Your angel numbers are 111, 333, and 666. Don't be scared of yourself, seeker, you are blessed and protected. Use discernment and your intuition.

Group Three ~ Twisting Clouds

You don't want to hear what the omens are telling you, seeker. The situation you are in right now, is something you are either reluctant or unready to give up. You have been ignoring the signs in normal life, for signs given to you in social media or popular culture. You are drowning out the truth with targeted content that cannot apply to you. Dogs, birds of prey, sea animals, and horses may be important to you right now. You may be hearing wind chimes or strange whispers. You may be crying a lot, as purging. You may be ignoring the number 11. The omens are telling you it is time to move on and let go, and even though change is hard, there is promise of freedom on the horizon. Your angel numbers are 222, 444, 555, 888, and 999. You will be okay, seeker, your guides will never let you go without blessings. Use discernment and your intuition.

Group Four ~ Above The Clouds

A person you least expect has delivered you an omen, seeker. This may be a person you distrust, have argued with, or someone you are not close to, but they have verbally delivered a message to you, which you have doubted and chosen to ignore. But, this message is a promise of a new beginning. This person may have been standing in a doorway or under an arch. You may be looking out the window more, or spending time on your porch. You may be seeing people give to charity and do good works. Leaves or feathers may be symbolic to you right now. Fairy circles and rolling plains may be images or places you are drawn towards. You may be noticing hands holding money. This person probably is not the vessel of your good fortune, but they delivered a sign and a promise to you. Don't turn your nose up at them. Think about what they have said, and remember forces work in mysterious ways, even in places you may never expect. 222, 333, 444, and 777 are your angel numbers. Never judge a book by its cover seeker, this person is a test to see if you are ready to recieve your blessings. Use discernment and your intuition.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Thank you for joining me seeker, I don't normally channel energy in this way, and I hope I have been of service. Blessings be to you, as I have said, so mote it be.

#tarotblr #tarot #tarot witch #free tarot #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #tarot reading #free tarot reading #tarot community #tarot reader

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astra-ravana · 2 months ago

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Necromancy Basics

What Is Necromancy?

Also called death work, necromancy is the art of interacting with the spirits of the dead. Necromancers may have many reasons for doing this including, but not limited to, divination, communication, healing, and cursing. Necromancy is an ancient magick, practiced in many forms, by almost all cultures, for thousands of years. The spiritualist movement of the 19th century popularized mediumship and gathering for seances. Today, necromancy is not as commonplace, but many witches still reach out to the dead to enhance their craft and to shift their perspective on death.

Many fear death, but the reality is that death eventually comes for us all. Death is a part of life, a process of nature, and an element in and of itself. Death has an energy that is capable of empowering those brave enough to face it head on.

Working With The Dead

Necromancy can be carried out using many different methods and for different purposes. Contacting the dead can actually bring peace to the living, helping them understand and embrace their own mortality. Conversely, ghosts can be employed as a means of baneful magick, cursing targets with their presence. The nature of the spirit will determine their influence on the living. As such, there are a few notable types of spirits:

• The Beloved Dead- The spirits of your dead friends, relatives, and ancestors. These are people who were connected to you in life, or by family ties. These spirits can be contacted to bring healing through closure as well as for general communication. They can lend their energy to workings, empower and heal you through their presence, as well as protect you from harm.

• The Mighty Dead- These are spirits of fame, notoriety, and influence. Having made a mark on the world in life, they still have much to offer in death. This type of spirit is fantastic for divination, empowerment, gaining knowledge and skills, and deep communication. The can be invoked by a necromancer through their name.

• The Dark Dead- These are the tormented souls who haven't moved on from their own traumatic death. They are full of sorrow, confusion, and rage. These types of spirits are extremely strong and should only be contacted by a skilled practitioner. Often, violent or intense hauntings are the work of these spirits. They can influence emotion and energy and can also exhibit poltergeist behavior.

• Animal Spirits- Dead animals can also be contacted through necromancy, often using the animal's skull or bones as a beacon and vessel. These spirits can empower workings, offer protection, or even help you connect to nature on a deeper level. Deceased pets can be worked with similarly to the Beloved Dead.

Furthermore, there are numerous methods and techniques one can utilize to achieve communication with the dead. These practices are not limited to the dead, as you can utilize many of these to connect with non-human spirits and deities as well. The most notable means of communication with the dead:

• Mediumship- Being a medium means you can psychically communicate with the dead. While some people are born with the natural ability, others can develop it over time from exposure to the spirit world.

• Seance- A group endeavor to summon a spirit, usually lead by at least one medium. Many other methods may be employed during a seance. These can be long events, often lasting hours.

• Talking boards- A talking board, often referred to as a ouija board, is perhaps one of the most widely known means of communicating with the dead. These boards have been used for centuries in various forms, usually by moving a planchette across the letters and symbols.

• Pendulum/dowsing rods- Also used to detect water underground, these useful tools are very sensitive to energy. A pendulum is a weight at the end of a cord or chain that swings in various directions and circles in response to energy. Dowsing rods function very similarly, but they are held loosly in the hands so they can spin freely. Most dowsing rods are made of copper wire, bent into an L shape. These can be used to detect spirits as well as calibrated to answer yes or no questions.

• Tarot/oracle cards- Cards have often been used to communicate with the dead. They can provide valuable insight into the nature, feelings, and traits of spirits as well as key events of their life/death. I recommend being a skilled reader before using this method to contact the dead, as there can be miscommunication.

• Mirrors- Mirrors can act as portals to the spirit world as well as make it easier to see spirits. Black mirrors work especially well for this as they limit distractions, allowing one to better focus or scry for answers.

• Technology- Modern necromancy definitely has an edge thanks to ground breaking devices often utilized by ghost hunters. Inventions like the ghost box and ovulus are made specifically for speaking to the dead. These can be expensive, however. An affordable alternative is a digital voice recorder which are able to pick up spirit voices or EVPs (electronic voice phenomena). Simply ask a series of questions, with pauses in between, and play it back to hear any responses.

Graveyard Etiquette

Graveyards, cemeteries, and burial grounds are excellent places to make contact with the dead. These hallowed spaces are often hubs for spirits and can be very valuable to practitioners who conduct themselves properly. The rules for graveyard necromancy are as follows:

• Leave an offering at the entrance for the cemetery guardian. Also leave an offering at any graves you work with. Traditional offerings include coins, liquor, tobacco and flowers.

• Ask for permission before taking anything from a graveyard and leave an offering in return.

• Ward/shield yourself before doing graveyard work. You can wear a pentagram or other protective symbol, or cast protection magick on yourself.

• Treat the graveyard and every grave with respect. Try your best to fix any damages done by others and keep the grounds clean of litter. Doing this will earn you major respect from the resident spirits.

• Always thank the dead for their time before leaving.

• Consider cleansing yourself after a visit, to ensure nothing follows you home. You can also wear a hood/scarf so spirits don't grab onto you, as they usually go for the back of the neck/head.

Graveyards are considered to be liminal spaces. These are special settings that exist in a place of transition and are known to be gathering places for spirits. Any magickal working done in a liminal space will be enhanced by the energy of that location. Other examples of liminal spaces include crossroads, hedge rows, halls, and doorways.

Relevant Posts

Necromancer's Tool Kit

Liminal Spaces In Witchcraft

The Pendulum

The Dark Dead And Baneful Necromancy

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redclercs · 2 years ago

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i only see daylight ✩ charles leclerc

— or, three times charles showed you love is golden.

✐ charles leclerc x gender neutral reader

✐ requested. inspired by taylor swift's song 'daylight'.

✐ warnings: lowercase intended, small mention of reader being insecure of their looks, 1k words.

i don't want to look at anything else now that i saw you

"why are you looking at me like that?" you ask, eyebrows tightly knitted. you've done your best to avoid asking the question, but charles' stare is making you self-conscious despite your best efforts. intrusive thoughts swarm your brain now and then, telling you he's too good for you in many, many ways, but the most evident one might be how plain you look compared to his beautiful exterior.

"do you think the moon is jealous of how beautiful you are?" he's so sincere your heart hurts a little, and yet, a smile spreads on your face imitating his own.

you laugh, shaking your head, as he's still staring at you.

"i'm being serious," charles joins in your laughter, all contradiction to his spoken words. "you're the most beautiful thing i've ever laid my eyes upon."

you've been told you're pretty in different instances of your life, you've been called 'cute' 'adorable' and on very very strange occasions, beautiful. but charles calls you all of that so often, that you're shocked the words haven't lost any meaning. he speaks from his heart every time he talks to you.

the awkwardness has seeped out of your body, replaced by the warmth of knowing you're loved in a way many people spend their lives desiring.

all of you, all of me, intertwined

it's your racing heartbeat that wakes you up. you lie in bed, eyes open and blood rushing to your ears, waiting for another sound to come from outside the bedroom. you are supposed to be alone, but you swear something fell in the kitchen.

you're frightened, but you know you have to deal with whoever is rummaging through your cupboards at 2 am. grabbing your cell from the nightstand, you dial three digits for the emergency line and skip the 'call' button, this is a dumb idea, but you are going to the kitchen.

it takes you three minutes to find one of charles' golf clubs, and you get a pinch of regret about using them as a weapon, but deep down you know he won't mind. tiptoeing your way down to the kitchen, your heart is about to burst out of your chest. this really is a dumb idea, you could just be endangering yourself further.

"ah putain!" a male voice whisper-yells, followed by the sound of another pot crashing to the linoleum. your boyfriend is angry and disheveled, and he has never looked better in your eyes.

"what are you doing?" you question, leaning the golf club against the wall. there's this happiness that only he brings you by just being in the same space, that your fear is gone. there's surprise in your heart too, pleasant surprise, he is supposed to be on the other side of europe still.

charles straightens up so fast he gets lightheaded, but it doesn't stop him from crossing the kitchen in three long strides, arms open and with a huge smile that shows his dimples clearly. "mon amour!" he's still whispering, although you're awake and currently being asphyxiated in his embrace.

"i thought you were taking the eight am flight," you mumble against his shoulder. he carries with him the smell of the plane, which is not unpleasant, but it hides his normal scent; the one that makes him feel like home.

"i couldn't wait to see you," he's peppering your head with kisses, his hands roaming down your sides as he takes you in, as if he's missed you for years and not just a weekend.

"hmhmm," you love being in his arms, you just don't love the lack of oxygen that's getting to your head.

charles lets go of you, not without leaving a sloppy kiss on your forehead.

"and what were you doing sneaking around like a mouse in the kitchen?" you look at the pot still on the ground and the wooden spoon resting on the stovetop.

"well," he's sheepish now, scratching the back of his head. "i was hungry. i hate plane food."

you laugh and he takes this as a chance to hold you against him again. sleep has abandoned you completely, you are too giddy now that you're with him.

"and what exactly were you planning to cook?"

charles shrugs, "whatever i could find, to be honest."

you make yourselves busy with preparing a three am snack, quickly falling into synchronization after so many meals prepared together in this same kitchen. sometimes in silence, others like right now, there isn't a pause while charles tells you everything about his weekend away, there isn't a thought in his brain that doesn't make its way to his mouth when he's with you.

it's three am, you're both sleep deprived and you can't picture yourself doing this with anyone else or for anyone else.

i once belived love would be black and white

in your experience, there were only two possibilities when it came to a disagreement: i’m right and you’re wrong.

fighting with charles is uncommon, your disagreements over petty things can be solved in childish ways, a game of rock, paper, scissors, pulling the short straw, etc. these stupid little issues end with a laugh and short mockery of whoever lost, and the agreement to don't bring it up again. which is the harder part, teasing each other in a lighthearted manner is a love language too.

you still remember the first time you had your first big fight with charles. the reason it started has slipped to back of your mind, insignificant. but you remember the crying and the yelling.

the thought of your love being over was the worst stab, straight into your heart. things like these had happened before, your previous relationships never bounced back from your mistakes. it always was all right or all wrong when it came to you.

charles hadn't yelled, he had waited patiently for you to finish and when you were a mess with reddened eyes and a clogged nose, he hugged you and told you he loved you.

yes, he was mad at you too. but his temporary anger didn't cloud his better judgment, words cannot be taken back, and hurting you wasn't something he could forgive himself for.

“pause, okay?” charles says sometimes, others it’s your turn to freeze the frame, when things are getting too ugly to be sane about them.

and you pause. because there is right and there is wrong, but there are no absolutes between the two of you, except maybe when it comes to loving the other.

─── team principal radio: ❝hi! this is my first request on this blog, so thank you so much to the anon that requested this. I hope they and everyone who stumbles upon this enjoyed it!❞

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 fluff

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ishido-enjoyer · 2 months ago

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So I know I haven't been so active in the Napoleonic community in recent months, as I've been pretty absorbed with studying Japanese history and the Japanese language, but the more I've learned about Hideyoshi, the more I found myself comparing him to Napoleon, so here's a post where my two main historical interests get to intersect. :)

Toyotomi Hideyoshi has often been referred to as Japan’s Napoleon Bonaparte. Perhaps a bit Eurocentric given that Hideyoshi was born in 1537, 232 years before Napoleon--if anything it could be said that Napoleon was France’s Hideyoshi, but unfortunately Hideyoshi is not a name most Westerners recognize—otherwise it’s an excellent comparison. I’ve read a great deal about Napoleon over the past several years, and, although my studies on Sengoku Japan are only really in their infancy, I couldn’t help but notice a striking number of parallels and similarities between the lives and military/political careers of Hideyoshi and Napoleon.

Both men came from relatively humble origins and experienced meteoric rises through the ranks via their military service. Napoleon’s family on Corsica were minor nobility—they were not wealthy by any means but at least possessed enough connections to get Napoleon into a military academy; once his training was completed, he was commissioned as an artillery officer. Hideyoshi was born a peasant; his father was an ashigaru (foot soldier) who served a samurai. Hideyoshi followed in his father’s footsteps and became an ashigaru himself, which at the age of 26 brought him into the service of Lord Oda Nobunaga, who was soon the most powerful daimyo in Japan. His talents and intelligence impressed Nobunaga, and Hideyoshi rose to become one of his top generals and retainers by his early thirties. When Nobunaga was betrayed and assassinated in 1582, Hideyoshi, then 35, moved quickly to step into the ensuing power vacuum; within three years he had defeated his main rivals, consolidated his power, and become the most powerful man in Japan himself. Napoleon Bonaparte became a general at age 24 and crowned himself Emperor of the French at age 35. Hideyoshi was never Emperor, nor, being from a peasant background, did he receive the title of shogun, but he was designated kampaku (Imperial Regent) by the Emperor at age 38 and was the real power in the land from this point until his death in 1598.

As a result of their respective meteoric rises and remarkable military successes, both men came to view themselves as destined for greatness. Napoleon frequently spoke of destiny and believed himself guided by it. “Is there a man so blind,” he wrote in December of 1798, “as not to see that destiny itself guides all my operations? Is there anyone so faithless as to doubt that everything in this vast universe is bound to the empire of destiny?” (Broers, Napoleon: Soldier of Fortune, 195) This belief, which pervaded through his life, also made him take great risks, convinced that he was destined to succeed in his endeavors. Hideyoshi came to genuinely believe his own rise was divinely inspired and even developed his own backstory, giving himself celestial origins, and making sure to mention them frequently in his letters to others as a means of convincing them of the rightness of his cause. “At the time my mother conceived me,” he wrote on one occasion, “she had an auspicious dream. That night, a ray of sun filled the room as if it were noontime. All were overcome with astonishment and fright and when the diviners had gathered, they interpreted the event saying: when he reaches the prime of life, his virtue will illuminate the four seas, his authority will emanate to the myriad peoples.” (Berry, Hideyoshi, 9). He even went so far as bringing up his supposedly heavenly origins in a letter to the King of Korea, in hopes of pushing his case to the King to permit his armies safe passage through Korea so he could carry out his planned conquest of Ming China.

Both were regarded as military geniuses by their contemporaries. Napoleon’s quick, dominant successes in Italy, and his crushing victories against Austria, Russia, and Prussia between 1805-1807, solidified his reputation as one of the greatest generals in European history, and arguably the best military commander of his time. Hideyoshi never suffered a defeat in the numerous campaigns he waged over the years to complete the work of unifying Japan that had begun under Nobunaga.

Likewise, both men’s reputations for military genius were severely tarnished by campaigns driven out of an increasingly megalomaniacal drive for conquest abroad. Hideyoshi, his confidence bolstered by his string of military successes, began setting his sights on China, and even hinted in his correspondence that one day, after China had submitted as his vassal, he might even attempt to conquer India. To begin his conquest of China, he first needed to bring his armies through Korea. He attempted to negotiate with the King of Korea to gain safe passage for his armies, but Korea had strong ties to the Ming Dynasty, the negotiations soon broke down, and Hideyoshi sent his armies to invade Korea in 1592. The Japanese initially smashed through the pitiful Korean defenses and made a rapid drive up the peninsula, but with Ming reinforcements soon arriving to turn the tide, and the Japanese navy being repeatedly pummeled by the brilliant Admiral Yi Sun-Sin, the Japanese advance was soon stalled. Eventually the Japanese forces retreated to the southern coastline, where they hunkered down in hastily-built fortifications while peace negotiations dragged out for years between Hideyoshi’s court and the Ming court. When these negotiations also eventually broke down, Hideyoshi launched a second invasion of Korea, less for the sake of conquering China this time than simply for punishing Korea as much as possible for thwarting his initial plans. Hideyoshi himself never actually personally led his armies in Korea—he never went to Korea at all—but relied instead on the reports of his generals and inspectors, whose reports often downplayed or whitewashed the truth of Japanese defeats out of fear. Additionally, some of his primary commanders (like Konishi Yukinaga and Kato Kiyomasa) openly hated each other and their quarrels and personal rivalries occasionally hampered military operations, not unlike the quarrels of Napoleon’s commanders in Russia. The second invasion was turning into a stalemate when Hideyoshi abruptly died in September of 1598 at the age of 61. The remnants of the Japanese army eventually returned to Japan, and a six-year period of nearly relentless horrors and atrocities in Korea had all been for nothing. Napoleon, of course, launched his infamous 1812 invasion of Russia, which, while of much shorter duration than Hideyoshi’s war(s) in Korea, led to a much more thorough destruction of his armies and arguably contributed to his fall from power in 1814. Not that the Korean conflicts left the Toyotomi forces unscathed, and it can also be argued that the extent to which the Western armies had bled themselves out in Korea helped contribute to the victory of Hideoyoshi’s rival, Tokugawa Ieyasu, against his Toyotomi-loyalist enemies at Sekigahara in 1600, as Ieyasu, based in Japan’s eastern Kanto region, had pointedly kept his own forces out of the war.

Both men enacted sweeping reforms in their respective societies which long outlasted either them or the dynasties they both failed to leave behind. Both initiated nationwide cadastral surveys and land registries to make tax collection more accurate and efficient. In 1595, six leading daimyo under Hideyoshi drafted, on his behalf, a code comprised of fourteen brief articles, all of which were centered around keeping the peace, carrying out justice, and governing the behavior of the various social classes in Japan. Napoleon issued his civil code (also not written by himself), now known as the Napoleonic Code, in 1804. While not as brief as the Toyotomi regime’s code, it was written in the vernacular to make it more accessible to the average person.

Both were patrons of the arts; in Hideyoshi’s case, of Noh theater (which he became so passionate about he eventually even performed in plays in front of his subordinates), tea ceremonies, and painting; Napoleon also patronized painters, established art museums and, while not up to becoming a performer in his own right like Hideyoshi, he did attend the opera regularly.

Both Hideyoshi and Napoleon struggled to produce an heir. Hideyoshi’s only son, Tsurumatsu, died at the age of 2 in 1591. Hideyoshi named his nephew Hidetsugu his heir in the meantime, but hoped to have another son. Neither his wife nor his considerable number of concubines were able to give him a child, leading historians to speculate that Hideyoshi may have been sterile by this point, possible as the result of a sexually transmitted disease. In 1592 his concubine Yodo-dono, also known as Chacha, gave birth to a son, Hideyori, who would become Hideyoshi’s only heir (the unfortunate nephew, Hidetsugu, was soon charged with treason and forced to commit seppuku not long after Hideyori’s birth). Hideyoshi’s inability to create an heir with so many other women led to rumors spreading, even before he died, that Hideyori was not really his child. Napoleon also struggled to produce an heir for years after crowning himself Emperor, but, as he demonstrated no problem creating sons with his mistresses, the problem was attributed to his wife’s infertility. He divorced Josephine, married a much younger princess, and soon enough had an heir of his own.

When Hideyoshi died in 1598, his heir was only five years old; when Napoleon fell from power in 1815, his heir was four years old. Both Hideyoshi’s heir and Napoleon’s heir died at the age of 21.

#Toyotomi Hideyoshi #Napoleon Bonaparte #Napoleon #Napoleonic wars #Sengoku Jidai #history #military history #Japanese history #samurai

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draconym · 6 months ago

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Hello! I’ve been interested in park ranger work for awhile— but since researching the institution a little deeper, I’m worried that park rangers are essentially forest cops. I noticed on one of your posts that you mentioned that you were a a park ranger law enforcement officer— and I was wondering if you could go into a little detail about park ranger work and it’s connection to law enforcement? Another reason I feel weird about pursuing park ranger work is I feel that national parks have a non-ignorable history of stripping land from indigenous people. If you have any thoughts or experiences related to the career— it would be extremely helpful for me to hear since I am trying to sort out what I would like to do after college. Thank you for reading. If you don’t want to answer this question either, I completely understand.

There's no singular institution. There are rangers who work for the National Park Service, for State governments, for local governments, or for cities and towns. And there are many different types of rangers: enforcement, interpretive, wilderness rescue, the list goes on. Different sites have different needs, and different positions will have different duties. Many rangers have zero law enforcement authority, and most I've spoken to prefer it that way: they prefer to focus on education and conservation.

I was an enforcement ranger, but never a law enforcement officer--the primary authority I had was the ability to issue fairly cheap citations for animal-related violations (fishing, poaching, off-leash dogs, harm to wildlife, etc.) through local Animal Control. Though some rangers elsewhere carry weapons and receive law enforcement training, my department never did (the latter, frankly, was often to our detriment).

Certainly the NPS has a history loaded with racism, land theft, land desecration, even genocide. The very inception of the NPS was predicated on the myth that the lands to be designated as National Parks were uninhabited wilderness. But don't assume the problem lies solely with NPS: any institution with even a small amount of power has the potential to abuse it, and smaller parks are no exception. I've never even worked for the NPS (my state doesn't even have any national parks), but local agencies often have histories of segregating parks or enforcing segregation within them.

I've heard people say that park rangers are the "only good" law enforcement, and that's a generalization I absolutely wouldn't make. Yes, there are laws and regulations that are necessary for the sake of conservation and our ability to safely access natural areas. That doesn't mean those laws are always universally fair or fairly enforced.

If this leaves you feeling dismayed, well, yeah. Me, too. But there are also quite a lot of positions within parks that are not rangers at all, and quite a lot of jobs within conservation and nature education that are not parks jobs. I've found both park maintenance and trail crew to be just as rewarding in many ways, and if you can live with the low salary they typically offer, I do recommend giving those positions a try. The salary was ultimately a dealbreaker for me.

I haven't been a ranger for several years. I left because the agency I was working for was undeniably a toxic work environment. This isn't intended to put you off working for parks: it's a valuable, rewarding career to educate the public about the natural world and to help maintain wild spaces. I'm grateful to still be involved with parks in other ways. But even the small agency I'm currently working for struggles to right itself. It can be rough out there.

I've already discussed a few of the above points before in my #park ranger tag, so I encourage interested folks to read there if they're interested in more of the mundane, day-to-day stuff.

#park ranger

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stomach-bugg09 · 6 days ago

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soo i kinda had an idea for fali if you’re open to it if not it’s okay too 😋 ofc fali and sully!reader where it’s after he was shot (😔😔) possibly him having to do small exercise’s/physical therapy type thing daily so this is obv a little while after he got hurt anyway he hates doing them and is kinda keeping to himself with it or is getting frustrated that he’s struggling with them and reader comforts/helps?? idk if any of what i js said made sense but i hope so 😭 anyway thank you!!

summary: recovery is a grueling and arduous process for everyone, but especially for fali. he can't see past the warrior he used to be versus the one he is now, post-injury. he won't let anyone in... well, except for [y/n].

fali (oc) x sully!reader

a/n: this is kind of insane to think i'm writing this right now, but also i forgot how fun it is to create and publish works. anyway, i know it took me a long time to carry out my promises, but here is a long-awaited little blurb (?) about our beloved fali and [y/n], two names that i haven't written down in about like... two-ish years, give or take? a bit less, but the point still stands. i hope you guys enjoy! and i pray that i live up to your expectations.

lean on me, when you're not strong

[y/n] was always observant. as the eldest of five, never mind being the eldest girl, she'd felt the need to read everyone's facial expressions, their emotions, their expectations, their needs, their wants, their desires. it was just as much a survival tactic as it was an instinct. when things tended to change so abruptly in her childhood, whether that be one of her siblings crying (and lead to her mother nearly having a meltdown herself) or the arrival of the sky-people, she was always there to expect and, in its stead, to soothe.

but, some of that instinct fell away when she began training with her father. she was no longer expected to be the caretaker in an emotion sense, but rather a protector. her observant nature proved her worthy as she had the advantage of throwing her opponent off with a simple comment (like the time she took a chance and teased a childhood friend of her crush on neteyam before pinning her all because she was distracted) or merely reading their next move.

however, interestingly enough, with her time spent living with the metkayina, and fali obviously, [y/n] had started to evolve into her older self. no longer in fear of the sky-people since they managed to defeat them, [y/n] has once again returned to her caregiving nature.

although, perhaps a lot of that is because of fali.

while [y/n] had come out of the womb strong yet soft, in some ways, fali had come out as a true warrior. screaming bloody murder, naturally. but, while his infancy was a loud few years (he really had no trouble figuring out the functions of his vocal chords), it was also an exciting few years.

he'd always bounced around, itching to learn the ways of warriors from his parents. fali was naturally proud--of his heritage, of his family, of his people. in an entirely different way, fali too had the natural urge to protect.

but, that's why it'd been so difficult for him to recover. not physically, because eywa knows how seriously he took every assignment, every exercise, every appointment because he knew that was the only way to return to the past, but... emotionally, it was a taxing time.

fali had always been the one to protect his family. even though his parents were respected warriors, they were old. they'd managed to have fali late in their years, and they often called him a miracle from eywa herself.

not only did he concern himself over his parents, but he also practically adopted aonung and tsireya as his baby siblings. he'd protected them all through their years growing up, although he did treat them as a normal older brother at times. if he remembered correctly, fali was the first one who aonung ever got into a physical tussle with. that being said, fali was also the first one to give aonung a black eye.

but now, after taking a wound so dangerous that it was nearly fatal, fali was left... as the weakest link. now, his parents had to take care of him. now, tsireya and aonung could barely look at him without guilt or pity clouding their eyes. now, he was... he was useless.

and worst of all, he needed help.

of course, fali never really asked for help. for the first few weeks of recovery, he would struggle on his own, cry on his own, yell at the sky on his own. it was such an alien feeling to hate himself as much as he did. somehow hate that he'd survived the wound.

he never told that to anyone, of course, but he didn't really need to because someone was always watching him.

[y/n] had let him be for those first weeks. she knew what he was feeling--not totally, but she recognized his independence and protective nature. that's honestly why they'd been so drawn to each other in the first place. but, just because she left him alone didn't mean she wasn't paying attention.

her fingers curled into fists at her sides. her feet itched to move, to run to him, to hold him together when he was breaking apart. but she forced herself to stay still. she fought the urge every time she saw him break down into a puddle of tears, every time he gave up and threw his cane in the sand, every time he unleashed a rage she recognized too deeply. she would not step in unless he needed her, that's what she kept telling herself.

that is, until one morning, when the sun is just peeking above the horizon and the ocean is already awake with creatures jumping, dancing, singing, and celebrating the beauty of pandora, [y/n] woke up with a jolt.

she had no idea why--she usually slept quite soundly until the first horn was blown, but there was something stirring in her blood. something she didn't fully recognize, but she felt that same familiar adrenaline pumping, that same familiar sixth sense that whispered to her, get up. you're needed.

at first, she was confused, although frantic because all the worst possibilities popped into her head. tuk? she wondered before her eyes scanned the floor of their marui only to find her fast asleep in their mother's arms. next to them was her father, still unconscious and snoring quite loudly. the rest of her siblings were fine too, she realized quickly.

so then, what was it?

that's when she finally walked outside, standing on the docks and scanning the horizon with squinted eyes.

oh, she breathed, fingers softly brushing her mouth at the sight that beheld her on the beach. "oh, fali," she whispered, shaking her head.

it wasn't an unordinary sight, her love crouched on the ground, cane resting in the sand as his shoulders shook from silent sobs. but, something about that morning, his depressing sight juxtaposed by the bright sunrise behind him... it made [y/n]'s heart drop into her stomach.

as she walked carefully from her marui to the beach in which fali awaited her, although unbeknownst to him, her mind shuffled through a thousand different things to say. questions to ask, answers to demand, comforting words to whisper. should she rub his back? kiss him? how would she like to be treated? she thought she'd want to be left alone, but maybe... maybe that wasn't right.

unfortunately for her, her thoughts must've grown too loud because she hadn't realized how noticeable her footsteps must've been. just as she was nearing fali, the boy froze and turned around to look at her.

as her eyes met his, her heart stopped. he looked.... well, he looked awful. not because of the puffy skin atop his cheek bones, or pale skin, or even the pained grimace on his face... it was something about his eyes. they didn't sparkle, not like they usually did, they were... dull. they were hurt. they weren't fali.

and that's when [y/n] realized it really didn't matter how much planning she did on the walk here because, when it really comes down to it, when it comes to the person she loved the most, the words were natural. they came to her like waves did to the shore.

"oh, my tìyawn," she whispered, voice soft against the song of the birds that flew above their heads. "i'm so sorry."

there was something about those simple words--just three simple words--that made something within fali click. for as long as he'd been recovering, everyone had tried to stay strong for him, tried to encourage him, to motivate him. never once had someone... empathized with him. not until then, that is.

fali's breath hitched. his shoulders trembled, as if he were trying to hold himself together, but the dam was cracking. and when [y/n] sat beside him, warmth against his cold solitude, the first tear finally fell.

"fali," she whispered, setting a hand on his, and she watched as his lip trembled, "fali, i am sorry that this has happened to you. i'm sorry it had been so hard adjusting, i'm sorry everything feels so different. it is so hard to be in this situation, and i realize... i realize i abandoned you. i thought it was the right thing to do, i thought you needed space, but really... you needed someone."

she grabbed his hand, softly, lifting it up to her lips and pressing a soft kiss. "you will get through this, fali. you will grow stronger—not just in body, but in spirit. learning to adapt isn’t weakness. it’s wisdom. and you won’t do it alone. i’ll be with you, every step."

fali exhaled shakily, as if the weight of the world had settled deep in his chest and was only now beginning to lift. he didn’t speak. he didn’t need to.

instead, his fingers curled around [y/n]’s, gripping her hand as if she were the only thing keeping him tethered. and maybe, in that moment, she was.

[y/n] squeezed back, saying nothing. just being there. just being his.

#avatar the way of water #neteyam sully #loak sully #sully family x reader #sully family x y/n #tuk sully #tuktirey #kiri sully #sully siblings x reader #neytiri sully #sully!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #avatar 2 #fali x reader

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princess-of-morkva · 5 months ago

Text

to find you again

Arthur Pendragon was ten years old when his world finally began to make sense.

It was in his fifth grade, when his class went on a week long camping trip. He didn't know, at the time, what compelled him to sneak out of the tent in the wee hours of the morning, when the first rays of dawn lit up the treetops and his legs carried him towards the shore of a lake. It's surface was shimmering in morning light, and he could feel his breath halt, afraid to disturb the serenity of the sight that felt so otherworldly. It may have been some divine compulsion or simply his innate, childish desire to explore that made him go further, then, until his rubber flipflops were left on the shore and his bare feet touched the water.

There was a hand then, that rose out of the water, translucent and not entirely present, an image out of mist. There was a hand, and then another, and then the head and the body — a figure arose from the lake, smiling at the little boy that intruded her realm.

"Hello, Arthur." She spoke, and her voice didn't carry through the air like a human's would, rather, it sang with the wind, hit the ears like tiny drops meeting the water. "It's good to meet you at last."

He stared at her, for a long moment, before answering.

"How do you know me?" He frowned at her. Father told him not to talk to strangers, and this might have been a very pretty woman made out of mist, but she was still very much a stranger. Still, he didn't step out of the lake, for his curiosity was much greater than his father's teachings which felt so far away at the moment, and there was no one around to see anyway.

"The world speaks to me. I can't leave this lake, but I can see far beyond it." Her answer was not an answer at all, Arthur thought. His confusion must've been evident, because she smiled at him again, and there was a mischievous hint in the corner of her lips that made her look not so much like a spirit in a lake but a living and breathing young girl, but the next second it was gone and Arthur was left to wonder if he imagined it entirely.

"Why can't you?" He asked.

"It's were I was put to rest." She spoke the words so evenly, as all of the things she previously said, that it took Arthur a few seconds to catch the meaning of it.

"Does that mean you're dead?" He asked, hoping not to offend her with it.

"Not exactly. I'm here, aren't I?" Once again, her answer gave more questions than it answered.

"There are ghosts." He said. Arthur wasn't sure there were, actually. His father didn't believe in such things.

"I am different from ghosts."

"What are you then?"

"A guardian."

Arthur nodded, as if it made perfect sense. It didn't.

"Do you have a name?" He asked. It was only polite to ask for a person's name when first meeting them. Than again, lake-guardian-spirits could have entirely different etiquette.

"I was called Freya, once." There was a small smile, again.

Arthur nodded musingly.

"It's a pretty name."

She hummed.

"Do you often speak to people?" He never heard of such entities as her. It couldn't have been a common occurrence, surely. But wouldn't that be lonely? Having no one to talk to?

She shook her head, and there was a wistful look in her eyes.

"I haven't spoken to anybody in centuries." That couldn't have been nice, Arthur thinks. If she could speak to him, why didn't she speak to others?

"Why'd you speak to me than?" Freya didn't answer immediately, pausing the flow of their measured back-and-forth. It almost looked like she was unsure, but her features were still so calm, it was impossible to tell.

Then, she asked. "Do you have dreams, sometimes?"

It was a silly question. Everybody had dreams. Arthur understood immediately though, it wasn't the regular kind of dreams she was talking about.

Because the thing is, Arthur did have dreams. Ever since he was little. He remembers dreaming of white towers and battlements, of bright red banners and capes. Of metal clanging and laughter and a weight of a sword in his hand, on his hip. Of familiar faces he could never quite place. Of raven curls and bright blue eyes, especially often.

He never told his father about them — he'd call such things foolish. Arthur didn't think they were.

Arthur looked at Freya and nodded. There was a glim of relief in her eyes, he thought.

"Would you like to see more?" She asked, offering him her hand. Not solid in any common way of the world but in that moment, more real than any other thing around them.

Arthur didn't think twice before grasping it.

-----

please tell me if you'd like to see more of it because i love the thing in my head so far

where is merlin in it? he's gonna be there. with a twist. it's a reincarnation fic but with a twist. it's also very merthur. or as much as it can ever get with my aromantic ass.

also it's modern au but i still haven't decided on a more specific setting- should i do college au? i'd be horrible at it even though it would make sense thematically- i haven't been outside in years how does society function? how do i write it?

can you see i love freya? i love her very much

#arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon returns #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #freya bbc #lady of the lake #reincarnation fic #merlin fanfic #my wips #my writing #i need gentle encouragement and pats on the back to start writing productively

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misc-obeyme · 1 year ago

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Tbh CC, I don't think MC is still in love with the brothers after everything that's happened,,, thinking about it, it feels more and more like MC is just putting up with the brothers and taking care of them rather than loving them

Imagine MC admitting their love for the brothers died a long time ago and now they're just here to keep things in check, what do you think would happen?

Oh hey Lucifer, bringing me the angst today I see! Ouchies!

I think it probably depends on the MC involved. Generic OM MC is highly tolerant, slightly crazy, and somehow insanely resilient. They've definitely been through a lot and I think it's interesting to note that they have never once had any kind of emotional breakdown. They've had little outbursts here and there, but that's about it.

I think part of this is due to the story format. We've got a situation where MC is a character that doesn't say or do much. They're very reactionary in general.

But if we consider how this same story might go if it was a specific MC, one who was a fully fleshed out character, things can change dramatically. And there is absolutely a chance that MC could fall out of love with the brothers or even not fall in love with them to begin with.

It's kinda funny because I have a preference for the side characters in general and I think it's because they don't need MC to take care of them. The brothers are all very demanding and don't like when MC isn't with them all the time. But the side characters have their own stuff going on and are independent. They're all still hopelessly in love with MC, but they don't rely on MC the same way the brothers do.

But let's consider the scenario where one day MC has reached their limit. They don't explode or anything, but they quietly admit that their love has died and they only stick around out of obligation.

The thing about this is that I think all the brothers would have picked up on it before this moment, but some of them wouldn't know what was happening and others would. For instance, I see Lucifer and Asmo just sorta being like yeah we expected this. Whereas Mammon and Levi would be like okay we knew something was up, but we didn't think it was this!

I think at that point, the brothers would do all they could to change things. They can all be idiots and they get carried away and often cause MC more stress than anything. But I think if they knew how MC felt, that they were feeling this way, they would try to change.

It might not work. These demons are old and old people are often set in their ways. It might be hard for them to change. Then again, they were also created to live as long as they do, so perhaps they're better at adapting than humans are. Maybe they would find it isn't so hard for them to make the changes they need to in order to have MC be more comfortable again.

The problem is that even if they succeed in changing their behaviors, that doesn't mean MC will love them again. No matter what the brothers do, MC won't be able to make themselves love again. It's not impossible, but it's not something that's predictable, either.

I think part of the solution would be MC spending time away from them. Whether that's staying in the Devildom, but living somewhere else such as the castle or Purgatory Hall or going back to the human world, I think it would require some time apart.

I think a lot of times people fall out of love because they change in different directions. So if MC has changed, but the brothers haven't, that could be the cause. It could be that MC and the brothers have both changed, but differently enough that they no longer have that same chemistry from before. And sometimes you just can't fix it.

MC would have to make their choice at that point. If they all spent some time apart, then the brothers actively tried to change, but MC still finds that they aren't in love with them anymore, then MC has to decide. They have to decide if it's worth spending the rest of their life taking care of a bunch of demons who have already managed to survive a long time without them and who will likely live on far after they're gone. If MC is still mortal, they may decide they don't have time for that. Maybe they'll permanently move in to the castle or Purgatory Hall. I think that has a lot of angst potential because they'd still see the brothers a lot, but it'd be like there go my seven exes lol.

Ahhh it's such a sad scenario! And there are a lot of ways it could go, depending on the MC involved. My MC is more likely to lose their shit way before it ever got to this point so I can't even imagine it with them lol. But a quieter MC who feels the responsibility of being everything the demons expect them to be might certainly stick around long enough.

Anyway, this is getting lengthy, but I think it'd be a difficult time for all if this happened. The brothers might try to fix things, but I think in the end everybody would want MC to make the right choice for themselves.

#it's hard not to complain about the story itself #because I think MC would absolutely have had some kind of break down by now #considering all the nonsense they've constantly had to go through #but it's always leave it to me! and let me do the nice thing! and only occasionally I'm gonna break this door down!#anyway #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me mc #avatar0fpr1de #cc mutuals #misc answers

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

Note

Hello. I hope I'm not disturbing you. Your articles about the Volturi are really great. If you accept request. Can you write poly yandere volturi kings and female soulmate reader? Please

❝please don’t take our sunshine away❞

✭ pairing : yandere poly volturi kings x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) has always been a ray of sunshine, it didn’t matter if she was having a bad day or what she had a habit of making others around her feel uncontrollable happiness but sometimes that happiness comes with a price

✭ twilight masterlist 2

(Y/N) had always been known for her infectious happiness. From the earliest days of her life, her parents could hardly recall a moment when she wasn't giggling or blabbering away to anyone who crossed her path, even if she couldn't understand a word they were saying in return. Her bright, ever-present smile seemed like a permanent fixture on her face as she grew up, and it was a source of joy for everyone who knew her.

One crisp autumn evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the town square, (Y/N) decided to take a leisurely stroll. Her heart was light, and she hummed a tune she had heard earlier in the day. It was just another ordinary evening in her ordinary life, filled with extraordinary happiness.

But tonight, fate had something unexpected in store for her. As she rounded a corner, she collided with a tall figure, causing both of them to stumble back. (Y/N) quickly regained her balance, her ever-present smile still firmly in place. However, when she looked at the person she had bumped into, her smile faltered for the first time in as long as she could remember.

It was Marcus, a man who was a familiar face in the town but known for entirely different reasons. Marcus was a solitary figure, often seen on late-night strolls, and he always carried an air of sadness about him. His eyes, once bright, seemed dull, and the weight of the world appeared to rest upon his shoulders.

Without a word, (Y/N) made an impulsive decision. Instead of offering a quick apology and continuing on her way, she fell into step beside Marcus, matching his slow, deliberate pace. For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them was palpable, but (Y/N) didn't mind. She had always believed that sometimes, company didn't need words.

It wasn't until they reached the center of the town square, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, that Marcus finally broke the silence. He turned to (Y/N) and asked, "Why are you following me?"

(Y/N) looked up at him, her smile returning. "I'm not following you. I'm just keeping you company."

He seemed taken aback by her response. "But I haven't said a word since you joined me. Why would you want to be with someone who's so...silent?"

She shrugged, her eyes reflecting the warmth of the lamplight. "Sometimes, silence is the best company of all. And everyone needs a little company sometimes, even if it's just silent company."

Marcus didn't respond immediately, but (Y/N) could see a glimmer of something in his eyes—a spark of recognition, perhaps. It was a simple encounter, an unexpected meeting between two very different people, but it was a moment that had the potential to change both of their lives in ways they couldn't yet imagine.

As they stood there in the quiet of the town square, (Y/N) and Marcus, the happy and the sad, the talkative and the silent, found themselves sharing a moment of understanding that transcended words.

As the days passed, it became a familiar sight to see Marcus and (Y/N) walking together through the town. What had started as an unexpected encounter had evolved into a quiet companionship. Marcus, once known for his silence, began to open up to (Y/N) little by little. They talked about the weather, the changing seasons, and the happenings in the town.

One chilly evening, as they strolled along a cobblestone path, (Y/N) turned to Marcus with a gentle smile and asked, "What's been weighing on your heart, Marcus? You've been carrying a sadness that's hard to miss. Is there something you'd like to share?"

Marcus hesitated for a moment, then let out a long sigh. "It's nearing the anniversary of when I lost my wife," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every year, this time brings back the memories, and it's hard to bear."

(Y/N)'s face softened with empathy, and she frowned. Without hesitation, she stepped closer to Marcus and wrapped her arms around him in a warm, comforting hug. Marcus was taken aback by the sudden gesture of affection, his undead heart skipping a beat at her unexpected warmth.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Marcus," (Y/N) whispered, her voice filled with genuine sympathy. "It's always hard losing those we love most. But always remember that they're by your side and in your heart at all times. You're never truly alone. Sure, they aren't here physically, but mentally and spiritually, they'll never depart you."

As (Y/N) pulled away from the hug, she met Marcus's gaze with a reassuring smile. But something in that smile caused Marcus's eyes to widen, a spark of intensity flickering within them. It was a momentary shift, a subtle change that (Y/N) might have brushed off as a trick of the light if she had been anyone else.

But Marcus was not just anyone. Unbeknownst to (Y/N), the warmth she had shown him, the understanding, and the empathy had awakened something deep within him. A possessive desire, a yearning for her companionship that bordered on obsession. It was a dangerous path that Marcus had unknowingly started down, one that would lead him to protect (Y/N) at all costs, even if it meant losing himself in the process.

As they continued their walk, the night around them seemed to grow darker, and the bond between Marcus and (Y/N) deepened, setting the stage for a connection that would become increasingly intense and complex in the days to come.

The small town had its share of curious residents, and one of the most inquisitive was Aro. He had noticed the change in Marcus's routine—no longer was he the solitary figure wandering the town's streets in the late hours. Instead, Marcus had been frequently spotted with (Y/N), a happy and talkative presence by his side.

One evening, Aro decided to approach Marcus as he was leaving his home. "Marcus," he called out, his voice polite but laced with curiosity. "I couldn't help but notice you've been spending a lot of time with a human lately. Any particular reason for your late-night strolls together?"

Marcus turned to Aro, his expression suddenly cold and distant. "Why do you care?" he replied tersely, his tone devoid of its usual politeness.

Taken aback by Marcus's sharp response, Aro stammered, "I was just curious, Marcus. No need to be so defensive."

But Marcus didn't offer any further explanation. Instead, he turned away and walked off into the night, leaving Aro standing there, perplexed by his friend's unusual behavior.

Aro couldn't shake off the feeling that something had changed in Marcus, something that went beyond the surface. Determined to find out more, he made a quick decision. He signaled to Demetri, a loyal friend who had a knack for discreetly following people, and quietly instructed him to tail Marcus without being noticed.

As Demetri blended into the shadows and followed Marcus at a safe distance, Aro couldn't help but wonder what secrets his darling brother might be hiding and what had caused this sudden shift in his demeanor.

Demetri returned to Aro with his findings, delivering a report in hushed tones as they stood in the dimly lit streets of the town. His observations were clear and concise, painting a picture of Marcus's growing attachment to (Y/N).

"It's unmistakable, Aro," Demetri whispered, his eyes cautious. "Marcus is falling in love with (Y/N). Their connection goes beyond mere companionship. He watches her with an intensity I've never seen in him before."

Aro's features hardened at the revelation. Love, in the vampire world, was a dangerous and forbidden emotion. It made their kind vulnerable, and Aro was determined to protect his coven's secrets at all costs. He couldn't allow Marcus to jeopardize everything they had built.

One night, when Marcus was occupied with a task away from the town, Aro made a chilling decision. He would confront (Y/N) and eliminate the threat she posed to their kind. He believed it was the only way to save Marcus from himself.

As Aro approached (Y/N)'s home, his heartless resolve held firm. He knew what he had to do, and he was prepared to do it without hesitation. But when he knocked on her door and saw her welcoming smile as she opened it, something within him shifted.

(Y/N) had no knowledge of Aro's intentions. She greeted him warmly, inviting him inside, completely unaware of the danger she was in. Aro could feel his undead heart skip a beat as he looked into her eyes, filled with genuine kindness and trust.

In that moment, something inside Aro awakened—a twisted, possessive desire that went beyond his initial intent. He couldn't bring himself to harm her, not when she looked at him with such innocence and warmth.

Aro abruptly excused himself, leaving (Y/N) unharmed but bewildered. He retreated into the shadows, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He knew he couldn't kill her, but he couldn't allow Marcus to continue his attachment either. Especially not when he found himself entangled in her web of sunshine, so he decided on a different course of action.

In secret, Aro began contacting (Y/N). Early in the mornings, he would leave bouquets of beautiful flowers on her doorstep, each with a note signed simply with the initials A.V. He couldn't resist the temptation of being close to her, of having her know that he existed in her world.

As these secret gestures continued, Aro's thoughts deepened, and soon they begin to take a turn for the worst. He found himself drawn further into the web of obsession and desire. (Y/N) remained unaware of the dark forces that now watched over her, and the consequences of this forbidden connection were yet to fully unfold.

Aro had made up his mind – (Y/N) could not remain a human who knew of both Marcus and him. The existence of vampires had to remain a secret, and he was willing to go to great lengths to ensure it. He needed a vampire who was willing to sire her, and he knew exactly where to turn – Caius.

Approaching Caius in the dimly lit chamber where the Volturi convened, Aro explained his plan. "Caius, I have a proposition for you," he began, his voice dripping with persuasive charm.

Caius regarded Aro with a skeptical expression. "What's in it for me, Aro?“

Aro smiled, knowing how to appeal to Caius's desires. "It's been centuries since one of us has sired a new vampire. Think of the power and influence that would come with having a fledgling under your control. It would be a demonstration of your strength."

Caius's interest was piqued, but he remained cautious. "And who is this human you have in mind?"

Aro provided Caius with (Y/N)'s address, allowing him to watch her from the shadows. At first, Caius couldn't see anything particularly special about her. She appeared to be an ordinary human, going about her daily life in the town.

However, as he continued to observe, he noticed something intriguing. People seemed to gravitate toward her, drawn to her presence as if by an invisible force. It was as if she possessed a unique magnetism that drew others in.

Caius saw the potential in her and believed that her gift, whatever it may be, would shine even brighter as a vampire. He agreed to Aro's plan, and they set the wheels in motion.

One fateful night, as (Y/N) walked home alone, Caius attacked her swiftly and silently. He gave her a small amount of his venom, enough to begin the transformation into a vampire, and left her there, gasping for breath.

Demetri, under Aro's orders, arrived just in time to rescue (Y/N) from the brink of death. He spirited her away to a secluded house far from the town, where she would complete her transformation in secret.

The transformation into a vampire was agonizing, filled with searing pain and screams that echoed through the empty house. Demetri watched over her, ensuring that no one would hear her suffering. It was a cruel and calculated plan, orchestrated by Aro.

As (Y/N)'s human life faded away, she was reborn as a vampire, her journey into the world of the undead marked by betrayal and secrecy, setting the stage for a dark and complex future.

As (Y/N) gradually regained consciousness, her surroundings were strange and disorienting. The last thing she remembered was walking home alone at night, and now she found herself in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by three strangers. Panic surged through her as she tried to make sense of the situation.

Aro, with his ever-calming demeanor, stepped forward and spoke gently, "Do not be afraid, my dear. We are only here to help."

(Y/N)'s eyes darted between the three men, her heart racing with fear and confusion. "Where am I? Who are you?"

Caius, the one who had turned her, took a step forward and offered a reassuring smile. "My name is Caius. We found you in a dire state, half-dead, and I made the decision to save your life."

(Y/N) was still disoriented, her memories muddled and elusive. She couldn't recall how she had ended up in this predicament or who these people were. But Caius's words had an immediate effect on her. Gratitude overwhelmed her fear, and she threw her arms around him, thanking him for saving her life.

Demetri, who had been silently observing the scene, felt a pang of discomfort as he watched (Y/N) embrace Caius. He knew that this display of affection was a ruse, a part of the plan to keep her in the dark about her true nature. Still, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he saw her gratitude directed toward Caius.

Aro, too, felt a subtle undercurrent of jealousy as he watched (Y/N) with Caius. Though he would never openly admit it, he couldn't deny the strange pull she had on him, the unexplainable desire to be close to her.

But for now, they had successfully deceived (Y/N) into believing that her transformation was an act of salvation, rather than a calculated move to protect the vampire world's secrets. As she clung to Caius with gratitude in her newly immortal life, the complex dynamics among Aro, Caius, and Demetri were set in motion, with (Y/N) at the center of it all, unaware of the truth hidden in her missing memories.

In the moonlit expanse of the Volturi castle, Marcus paced uneasily through the grand hallways. His mind was consumed by one thought, or rather, one person - (Y/N). It had been days since he had last seen her, and a growing sense of suspicion nestled in his heart.

He had noticed the way Aro and Caius had been acting strangely lately, whispering secrets that excluded him and sneaking off to places unknown. Marcus had always been perceptive, especially when it came to the actions of his fellow Volturi leaders. These changes did not escape his watchful gaze.

One chilly night, Marcus decided he could no longer ignore the burning curiosity within him. He followed Aro and Caius as they slipped away from the castle and into the dense, ancient forest surrounding Volterra. He knew better than to question them directly; he needed to uncover the truth himself.

Hidden behind a thick cluster of trees, Marcus watched from a distance as Aro and Caius entered a remote cabin. The moon painted their silhouettes against the dark night. He waited in silence, the chill seeping into his bones as minutes turned into hours.

Eventually, the door creaked open, and Aro and Caius exited the cabin. Marcus knew it was his chance. As the two vampires disappeared into the night, he slipped inside the cabin, his eyes adjusting to the dim interior.

There, in the corner of the room, lay a figure he recognized all too well - (Y/N). But the sight that met his eyes left him stunned and furious. She was no longer the human he had known. She had been turned into a vampire.

He approached her cautiously, anger bubbling beneath his calm exterior. "It's dangerous for you to stay here," he whispered, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Before he could say more, the door swung open, and Aro and Caius returned, their expressions unreadable. Marcus straightened, his anger now unhidden. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded in a low, angry tone.

Aro stepped forward, attempting to placate the brewing tension. "Marcus, (Y/N) is an extraordinary vampire. When she was human, she had the gift of attraction. But now, as a vampire, her power has intensified. The more time you spend around her, the stronger the pull becomes. It's... almost obsessive."

Marcus was concerned and infuriated. Caius, his sire, spoke up defiantly, "She's mine now, Marcus. I won't give her up."

The fury that had been smoldering erupted within Marcus, and he seized Caius, pinning him against a nearby tree. "This is not right," he hissed.

Aro intervened, "Let's not fight, brothers. There must be a way to share her."

The tension hung thick in the air, as Marcus, Caius, and Aro stood in the moonlit forest, their futures entangled in the presence of the gifted (Y/N).

"What do you suggest, then?" Marcus demanded, his grip on Caius loosening slightly as he considered Aro's words.

Aro smiled in his usual charismatic manner, despite the tense situation. "As I mentioned earlier, we could share her. She would only be aware of our presence, and occasionally Demetri's, to maintain the illusion of her normal life."

Marcus frowned, recalling Aro's earlier warning about (Y/N)'s allure. "But you said the longer someone spends with her, the more they fall in love with her."

Caius, still pinned to the tree, chimed in, "That's why we can't let Demetri be with her all the time. As long as he's only a protector of sorts, the pull to be with her won't be as strong."

Marcus considered the proposition, his anger slowly giving way to a begrudging agreement. The prospect of sharing (Y/N) was far from ideal, but it seemed like the only way to keep her safe and maintain some semblance of control over their own desires.

Reluctantly, he released Caius, who straightened his clothing. "We shall share her," Marcus conceded, a mix of resentment and longing in his voice.

With that decision made, the three Volturi kings now had (Y/N) all to themselves, each harboring their own desires and secrets that could either lead to unity or turmoil within the ancient vampire coven.

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lucy90712 · 2 years ago

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hi love💃 could write something with Jude Bellingham x girlfriend reader where she's out with her girlfriends and jude see her in a instagramm story talking to some guy. And he's just jelous and angry and calls reader like 20 times and goes to the club to get reader

wc: 1.9k

Since getting back from uni I have been getting ready to go out with my friends for a girls night as we haven't been out in so long. All of us have been so busy recently that we haven't been able to get together but finally we all have one night free and I'm so excited to go out and enjoy the night with them. I also haven't been out in forever so I decided to put a bit extra effort in as I wanted to feel good about myself as although I know that the way I look doesn't mean everything it's still nice to look good and feel good about myself. For the occasion I got a new dress which I have really been looking forward to wearing so of course I had to put on some makeup and do my hair to go with it. Usually I dress more casually with less makeup on but every now and then I like to go all out just to show that I can look as good as all those models on Instagram that want to take my boyfriend from me.

Just as I finished putting my makeup on the bedroom door opened to reveal Jude who had obviously just got home. He smiled at me so I got up to greet him but instead of giving me a hug and kissing me like he usually would I noticed him look me up and down and then meet my eyes with a look which only ever means one thing. To distract him I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading downstairs to grab my purse and shoes. Like clockwork Jude followed behind me like a shadow wanting me to give him a proper kiss and whining until I did so.

"Where are you going looking so gorgeous?" He asked

"I'm going out with my friends it's girls night remember which means that you can't come" I said

"Thats a shame I was hoping to see more of you looking like that but have fun you deserve it" he said

"You will see me later I don't plan to be out for too long" I said

"It's ok go and enjoy yourself but remember if anything happens call me" he said before giving me one last kiss

We said goodbye to each other as I left and got into the Uber that was waiting for me with all of my friends in it. Right away they gave me loads of compliments on my outfit and makeup which made me feel even better about myself than I did before. Until we got to the club we were all catching up on what has happened since we last saw each other which was a lot as between us we live pretty crazy lives. When we got to the club we split up with a few of us going to get drinks while the rest found somewhere to sit for a while. As we walked through the crowd I could feel eyes on me but it's something I've grown quite used to as people often like to take pictures or judge me wherever I go because of Jude. This time it did feel a little different though and I found myself pulling my dress down and covering my chest to draw less attention to myself.

Somehow after a while I ended up alone with some of my friends at the bar others in the bathroom and some on the dance floor. Usually I'm ok on my own but this time as soon as I was left alone a guy came over to try and talk to me but he left after I completely ignored him. A few more tried it before some of my friends came back which is when I was left alone or at least the attempts to flirt were less obvious. I have been in situations like these before but Jude has always been there to either tell these guys to stop or show them that I'm not single but this time I have to figure our what to do on my own.

I still wanted to enjoy my night so I chose not to let a bunch of drunk guys ruin it and got up to dance for a bit. Dancing isn't really my thing but when I'm out with friends I have learnt to forget about what I look like and just have fun. That's exactly what I was doing finally letting go of the stress I have been carry for the last few weeks and completely forgetting that anyone else was in the room until I felt a hand on my waist. When I turned around there was a guy stood behind me trying to get me to dance with him so I politely told him I didn't want to dance with him but he wasn't happy with that and insisted on talking to me in the middle of the dance floor.

Jude's POV

Sitting alone at home with a movie on was incredibly boring it would be made so much better if y/n was here but she's out with her friends having fun. She's been so busy recently that she definitely needed a night with her friends to just relax as I know she has been super stressed but that doesn't mean I don't miss her company. It doesn't help that she looked so beautiful when she left I just wanted to stare at her forever but I had to let her go and just hope that there aren't too many other guys staring at her tonight.

The movie was so boring that I picked my phone up out of habit to look at anything else going on. I was scrolling through my instagram and skipping through peoples stories until y/n's friends story popped up which I paid more attention to so I could see what they were doing. There was a few stories of them all dancing and having fun but it was the last one that caught my attention the most. It showed all of her friends dancing with y/n in the background talking to a guy who I could tell was into her from just the story. Seeing that made me feel really jealous as even though I completely trust y/n and know she wouldn’t cheat or even entertain the idea of another guy this guy was with her and I wasn't. He was getting to see her look so pretty while I was just at home which annoyed me and I couldn't stop myself from texting her just to check she was ok.

I sent a couple of texts to her which went unread so I called her a few times instead but she didn't pick up and they all went to her voicemail. I wanted to just forget about it and let her have fun but I had a nagging feeling in my mind that I needed to go and make sure she was ok. My mind was at war with itself as on one hand I wanted to go and make sure y/n was ok but on the other hand I know I need to let her have fun and that she can handle herself if she needed to. After going back and forth for a while I decided that I couldn't just sit there incase she was out wishing I was there to help her. I decided that I would go and check on her and if she was fine I would just leave and wait for her to come home.

Once I had decided I was going I wasted no time in heading upstairs to change and then grabbing my keys to get in the car. The drive to the club wasn't that long especially when you go a bit over the speed limit. As soon as I got there I parked the car in record time before jumping out and heading straight into the club ignoring anyone who recognised me and wanted to talk. Like every club there was loads of people in there but I fought my way through and found y/n stood to the side with some guy. I couldn't see his face but I could see hers and from a mile away you could tell she was uncomfortable which just made me angry as this guy clearly had no respect for her.

Your POV

Any shred of enjoyment at being out with my friends was gone by this point as I never got any time alone with them every two seconds a different guy was trying to flirt with me and it was getting annoying. After a while I stopped responding at all and just stood there wishing Jude was here as he would put them in their place as these guys might actually listen to him. This one guy that had been pretty persistent all night was stood probably trying to flirt with me but I wasn't listening I was just thinking about finally getting out of here and going home. As I was plotting my escape I saw Jude walking towards me and to start with I thought I was seeing things but as he got closer I realised he was actually here and I can't lie I was happy that he had crashed girls night. He came right over to me and put his arm around my waist to pull me into his side. He was staring down the guy in front of me and if looks could kill the guy would definitely be dead.

"Hey baby who is this?" Jude asked

"I don't know he just came over to talk me" I said

"I think the better question is who are you?" The guy asked

"I'm her boyfriend not that it should matter as she clearly didn't want to talk to you and you just couldn't get the hint" Jude said

"How about we go and have some fun now that you are here" I suggested to get us both out of this situation

Jude followed me away from the guy but instead of actually going to the dance floor I headed for the exit while texting my friends to let them know I was leaving. As we left he still had a tight grip on my hand which he was holding and I could tell he was tense so I tired to reassure him without actually saying anything. He led me to his car which wasn't parked too far from the club and we started driving back home in an uncomfortable silence.

"Is everything ok Jude?" I asked

"Everything's fine it's just I saw that guy with you in your friends story and I couldn't help but get jealous as you looked so good when you left that I didn't want other guys getting to stare at my girlfriend" he admitted

"Oh Jude you know that I don't care about any other guy so what if they stare at me I still come home to you everyday" I said

"And I'm the only one that gets to see you without that dress" he added

"See that's a better attitude" I laughed

After that Jude seemed happier and when we got home he carried me straight upstairs but instead of doing what I thought he would he helped me do my usual routine and then we got into bed to just cuddle. He held me tightly and just whispered how much he loved me in my ear until I fell asleep.

#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines

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macolethings · 3 months ago

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CLEXTOBER24!

The Scare - Six year old Lexa dresses up as a werewolf for Halloween to scare another Trikru kid that wronged her.

(Note, this story has spoilers if you haven't read through Chapter 5 of Sonraun Rein Kiken (A Life Worth Living) - Link here)

This idea came from a comment on my story. If there are other things you'd like to read about from any of the characters' pasts, or see in the future, feel free to share! Who knows, it may get added into the story, or be the reason for another snippet/one-shot.

Read below or on AO3 - here. Enjoy!

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The evening was cool and crisp when Lexa snuck out of the house to head into the forest. It wasn’t uncommon for her parents to let her explore the woods around their house during the day, even alone; after nightfall might be a different story, hence her need to sneak out.

Her skinny, six-year-old limbs did little to keep her body warm against the fall weather that had arrived a couple weeks ago. Not that she was worried about the cold. Soon she would be bundled up in a mix of tattered clothes that would surely keep her toasty. She also carried a water skin filled with a warm spiced tea, just in case.

Lexa had spent hours in the woods. Her nontu (father), Abe, taught her how to choose the best tree trunks for carving and building materials. Her nomon (mother), Ellyn, often requested her help in foraging for the best mushroom, berries, and roots, as well as hunting the small game that lived nearby. But her favorite times were playing in them with her older brother, Lincoln. Needless to say, she knew these woods like the back of her hand.

Lincoln, having recently reached his tenth summer, was given permission to venture out further into the world. With this new freedom, he and his friends had chosen tonight to explore an old, supposedly haunted, field from a war fought hundreds of years ago; for tonight was what the old world had called Halloween.

Halloween was viewed by Lexa’s people in a few different ways. Some feared the night, believing that spirits of dead ones could come back to the Earth to haunt those still living. Others thought it nonsense that such things could happen and believed it was purely an excuse for children to dress up and go to neighbors’ houses asking for sweets. The remaining ones gave it little to no thought.

Lexa fell somewhere in between thinking the whole thing nonsense, especially about old spirits, but also believing it would have been fun to dress up as something for a night. So, she decided that this Halloween, she would do just that.

For days she had debated on what she wanted to become. A princess didn’t fit her personality, and because she was a nightblood she had no desire to be a knight. She thought about being an animal, but none seemed to bring that idea of “fun” to mind.

Then, one night, snuggled into her nomon’s side on the couch, they read a story about a boy who became a werewolf and used his ability to scare the bullies of his school. An idea popped into her head so fast she nearly knocked the book out of her nomon’s hands and into the nearby candle flame.

Lexa would dress up as a werewolf and use the costume to scare her brother in retaliation for not allowing her to go with him and his friends on their day trip they were planning; the trip to the haunted fields she had begged him to let her go on with them. He had laughed and refused, saying she was too young and would scare too easily. Well, she would see who was easily frightened.

Keeping to the shadows in order to not get caught, Lexa finally reached the shed near their garden. Tucked behind some bags of chicken feed, she pulled one out that she had emptied days ago and filled with her costume.

Every day for the past week, after her chores were done, she would take to her favorite place in the woods to work on her costume. She started with the wolf mask, believing it the most important part of the whole thing. Her nontu had taught her how to carve wood, knowing the importance of such a skill if she were to ever get lost or abandoned in the woods, especially if she were to become Heda one day.

Lexa was proud of what she had whittled. The snout was hollowed out to fit her own nose, allowing her to breathe easily, and had two small holes on the side so she could secure it to her face. She even added a couple teeth to it, though the left side only had one instead of the two she’d planned after the knife slipped and cut into her hand. She flinched and dropped the snout on a rock, breaking one of the teeth off.

There was one good thing to come from her accident, though. Her black blood was the perfect way to paint the tip of the nose black. Dipping her finger into the trail of blood that dripped down her arm, she brushed the liquid where the nose was.

To cover her head, and appear more animal-like, she used an old, hooded shirt and glued a brown, somewhat bushy, moss onto it. From far away, and in the dark, it would easily pass as fur.

The last part of her costume was pieces of tattered, black, and brown clothes they normally used in the chicken coop to help keep the animals warm. Lexa had taken a few of the pieces that had only been there a day or two, meaning the horrendous stench had yet to really seep into the material. The rags made her look larger than her usual scrawny frame.

While in the shed, Lexa put everything on but the mask, including some “hairy” gloves covered with the same brown moss she used on the hood, and walked into the woods close to their home. Lincoln and his friends left earlier in the day but were to be back before midnight. Based on where the other children lived, and the direction they traveled, Lincoln would be the last one to get home.

Effortlessly climbing up into the tree she had scouted yesterday, she nestled down for the wait. Based on the placement of the moon, she wouldn’t have to wait long.

As she sat, she thought about her future. Soon, Lexa would be taken to Polis to begin her training as a novitiate. There was even a chance she would become Heda.

Her parents had worked hard to make sure Lexa was being trained daily, mostly using unconventional methods. She had learned the basics of how to survive alone in the forest during the two- and three-day tracks through the woods with her nontu. Her nomon had begun teaching Lexa to read and write earlier than was normal, knowing the ability to obtain and share knowledge would greatly benefit her. And daily sparring sessions with Lincoln, led by one of her parents of course, had taught Lexa how to protect herself.

Lost in her thoughts, it took the snap of a twig to bring her back to the present. Narrowing her eyes, she noticed the familiar figure of Lincoln, traipsing down the path. With practiced ease Lexa donned her wolf snout and brought the hood up over her head.

Lincoln's feet shuffled along the dirt trail, kicking small rocks as he mozied towards their home. Ever so quiet, Lexa moved into a squatting position and readied herself to jump out of the tree. Her goal was to land in front of him, so she could see the horror on his face, but also out of reach of any flying limbs he would use to protect himself.

“Eight feet,” she thought to herself.

“Seven. Steady.” She breathed.

“Wait for it.”

She leapt out of the tree with unnatural grace considering all the clothes she had on, and roared as loud as her little lungs could.

Lincoln would forever deny the high-pitched screeching sound that passed by his lips that night, as he covered the sides of his head with his hands and sunk in on himself, doing as his father had taught them and protecting his vital organs.

Lexa wanted to keep it going, but she immediately burst out laughing at her older brother. Hunched over, trying to breathe through the giggling, she almost missed the realization spreading on Lincoln’s face as he took in his surroundings. He looked down towards his crotch, now darkened slightly from when he pissed his pants at the fear of being attacked by a bear.

“You!” he growled, his hands clenched into fists.

“Now who scares too easily,” Lexa taunted. Throwing Lincoln’s words back into his face.

Lincoln’s eyes narrowed. “How could you!” he yelled, as he straightened himself upright; adrenaline coursing through his body. “You’re so going to pay for this.”

Lexa hadn’t planned for this part of the evening. She had planned to scare him, maybe have him run away. But the screech had her bowled over laughing, easily giving her away.

As he started towards her, she turned around and took over running back towards their house. Lexa was quick for her age, but Lincoln was taller and stronger. If she wasn’t bogged down with excessive clothing, she would have taken to the trees. The Trikru were known for their comfort and ease within the trees, and Lexa was no exception. In fact, her small stature allowed her to climb higher than others, and to use branches others couldn’t to jump from tree to tree.

But she couldn’t waste time stripping everything off, so continued to run; the clothes slowed her down significantly. Her lungs gasped for air, and her legs were on fire as she tried to get away.

He caught up to her right outside the front of their cottage. The only light in the house was the soft glow coming from the living room where the fire would be lit. This meant that her parents were most likely still awake. The oil lamp that hung from the front door also still hung from its hook. Lexa hoped it meant that her parents had not realized that she wasn’t in bed, where she definitely should have been at this hour, and took off to look for her.

Panic started to set in as her only two options came to mind. If she ran into the house, she would reveal to her parents she wasn’t in bed. If she stayed outside, she was at her brother’s mercy. Lexa didn’t know which would be worse; angry parents or angry brother.

Then a thought occurred to her. Maybe she could negotiate with her brother. Take on his chores for a week. Or trade one of her books for drawing equipment he wanted. Anything that would keep her out of trouble.

She turned around to reason with him, when he slammed himself into her, tackling her to the ground.

Lexa’s training kicked in. She managed to turn in his arms just enough to land on her shoulder instead of her back. If the wind was knocked out of her, she would have no chance at winning the fight.

Still caught underneath Lincoln, she twisted her waist and spine by shifting her hips. The movement lifted him just enough to give her room to rotate on the leg closest to the ground, throw her other leg up and over, and bring herself on top of his chest. It was a move she had recently perfected, her nontu continuously reminding her how important it was since she was small and could easily be strong armed onto the ground.

If they were sparring, Lexa would know exactly what to do to get Lincoln to yield. The fury she saw in his eyes though, revealed how angry he was, and angry people were unpredictable. She wasn’t even sure he would yield after the fright she had given him.

Her thoughts drifted too long, and strong arms forced her backwards with a push. Next thing she knew, fists started to wildly rain down on her. The extra clothing she wore slightly softened the blows. Pulling in her arms to protect her midsection, Lexa started to kick, catching him on a tender spot of his thigh. The grunted “oomph” informing her she landed her mark.

That seemed to anger him more. Try as she might, she couldn’t get an upper hand on him, and for the first time ever fighting Lincoln, she was afraid he might truly hurt her.

“Lincoln, stop.” Lexa called out.

His anger slowed him from stopping as quickly as he should. Instead he worked to put her in a final hold.

“I yield!” she yelled, still trying to buck him off.

He pulled back instantly, his arms still holding hers down on the ground by her wrists. She could see the hurt and embarrassment now in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Linc. I only meant it as a tease.”

Lincoln didn’t have a chance to respond. They heard the front door fly open, followed by a voice they both feared.

“Spirits! Both of you!!” Their nomon stalked towards the two still laying on the ground, frozen. “Lincoln kom Trikru, off! Alexandria kom Trikru… I have no words!”

Lincoln rolled off Lexa and lowered his hand to help her up.

“I have no idea what is going on, but I can tell you right now that you both are going to pay dearly unless there is a very compelling reason why you are out of bed so late at night," she pointed at Lexa, "and why you," she turned to Lincoln, "have taken it upon yourself to fight her."

Both ducked their heads.

"Well?" Ellyn prodded, her eyebrows rising so high they almost disappeared into her hairline.

Lexa and Lincoln looked at each other, a silent conversation between the two. Even when mad at one another, they always had each other's backs when a third party was involved, especially if that third person was their nomon. A couple quick nods affirmed that nothing would be revealed by their lips. Turning back to their nomon , they both squared their shoulders, ready for the punishment.

Ellyn looked back and forth between the two, eyes narrowing.

"I see," she said pointedly, knowing she would hear no reasoning from either of them. "Thick as thieves." She shook her head, but internally smiled at the bond her children shared.

"I'm not sure what happened," she continued, "but you will both be punished for what I have witnessed. Since you are both so loyal, your punishment will be shared. You will both have chicken coop duties for the next two weeks." They groaned.

"And," their nontu chimed in from the doorway, "you will take over my offer to chop wood for Glidea and old man Diksen for the winter."

They both nodded their heads.

"Nami (Understood)?" their mother asked firmly.

"Sha, nomon.” they replied.

"Now. Inside. Both of you." she demanded.

The two walked into the warmth of the house, but Lexa didn't make it very far before her nomon stopped her.

"Alexandria, you smell like chicken shit. Outside, and clean up before you come back into my house."

She hung her head as she sulked back outside, knowing the water would be freezing. But smiled slightly as she realized it had all been worth it.

#sonraun #clexa fanfiction #lexa kom trikru #clextober24 #werewolf #lexa the 100 #lexa is just a kid

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