#as much as i love to hate on her (as per my duties as a madrileño)

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

it is so tragic to know that the original plan for the almudena cathedral was neogothic and instead we got... whatever the hell this is

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love (6)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC word count | 6.3k words summary | all I'm gonna say is blood and cheese. tags | death, angst/comfort, vampire powers, blood (lots and lots of blood), trauma? aemond and reader can't keep their hands off each other, reader don't play when it comes to helaena, canon divergence note | i still haven't gotten over blood and cheese and phia saban's phenomenal acting in that episode. why is there so many oc fics in the aemond x reader tag (no hate). also contemplating writing for loki and oswald cobblepot (penguin in gotham)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

“I am happy that my mother has let you become my lady-in-waiting,” Helaena murmured, her voice lilting like a gentle breeze.

“As am I, Princess-” you paused before correcting yourself, “My Queen—the presence of the children brings me much comfort.”

“They eagerly anticipate your visits each day,” Helaena replied with a softness in her gaze that seemed to light the room.

Seated beside the young prince Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, whose precocious spirit was beginning to shine, you cast a fond glance at Jaehaerys, who was determinedly practicing his High Valyrian. Leaning closer, you offered him an encouraging smile, “What does this mean, Jaehaerys?”

It had taken some time for your bond with the young prince to flourish. Unlike his sister, who was as lively and eager as a summer’s day, Jaehaerys was quieter, more contemplative. Yet, you noticed that now whenever you attended to your duties for Helaena, while Jaehaera would chatter your ear off cheerfully, her twin would subtly gravitate toward you, seeking comfort as you played delicately with his soft, silver hair.

“Per—perzis ano...anogor?” he stammered, his timid voice breaking the air with a hint of uncertainty.

You couldn’t help but inwardly smile at his effort; the correct pronunciation was “Perzys Anogar.” After five years spent in the sun-kissed lands of Essos, you had perfected the various dialects of High Valyrian to perfection. Yet, your encouragement for the young prince remained unwavering. At just four years old, his intelligence astounded you. “Very good, my sweet prince. And what does it mean?”

“Fire and blood!” Jaehaera exclaimed with unrestrained enthusiasm, hastening to answer before her brother could. Her eyes sparkled with delight, clearly eager to capture your full attention. Jaehaerys shot her a sidelong glance, his lips pressed together in a playful pout, while you directed your gaze to Jaehaera with admiration. “Well done, dear princess.”

"My Queen," came a maid's voice, cutting through the tranquil atmosphere of Helaena's solar. Both you and Helaena shifted your gaze, "Prince Jaehaerys is summoned for his lesson with the Maester."

Helaena, who sat gracefully upon a pile of richly embroidered cushions, her needlework perched delicately in her lap, regarded her son with a tender smile, her serene demeanor offering him encouragement. "Off you go, Jaehaerys," she urged softly.

The small prince nodded earnestly. Before following the maid through the heavy wooden doors he turned to offer you a shy wave, a glimpse of the warmth that sparked beneath his young exterior. As the sound of his footsteps faded into silence, you turned your focus back to Princess Jaehaera, who was nestled in a nearby chair, fixated on the pages of a book filled with tales of dragons and valor, Jaehaerys had been reading. After awhile, your attention shifted as the sound of eager footsteps resonated through Helaena’s solar. You turned to see Aegon striding purposefully toward you and Jaehaera.

"Lady Mikaelson," he acknowledged with a courteous nod, his gaze lingering upon you for an unsettling moment, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine before he redirected his focus to Jaehaera.

“Where is Jaehaerys?” Aegon inquired, a frown settling deeply between his brows, betraying his impatience.

Helaena’s voice was soft as a whisper, yet it held a steady resolve. “Attending his lessons.”

“And those are where?” Aegon pressed, a hint of mockery threading through his tone, forcing back the urge to scoff at his impatience.

Helaena sighed, a delicate sound that barely pierced the air. “What do you need of him?”

Aegon’s lips thinned, “Taking him to the small council,” he announced, straightening his back with lots of fervor, “He'll be king one day, he must begin his instruction.”

With an eye roll barely concealed, you turned to braid Jaehaera's sweet, silver locks, weaving strands as your thoughts tangled around Aegon’s words. Helaena’s brow furrowed slightly, and you caught the hesitation in her voice. “What if he does not wish to be king?”

Aegon’s huff echoed in the chamber, annoyed, as he leaned closer, palms pressing against his knees. “Where is he?”

“In the library,” Helaena replied, her tone tinged with reluctance. “But you must not disturb his custom.”

Aegon, ever dismissive, shrugged off her words and stepped toward the door. Yet he halted when Helaena's voice pierced the silence once more, "I am afraid."

He pivoted on his heel, regarding her with feigned nonchalance. "Don't be. They'd be fools to come with Vhagar protecting the city."

"Not the dragons," Helaena murmured, her gaze dropping to the cold stone floor. "The rats."

Aegon, along with the attendants, followed her gaze, their eyes scanning for any signs of the vermin that might lurk in the shadows.

"The queen is an enduring mystery," Aegon declared, casting a mocking glance at Helaena. "Is she not?"

With that, he departed, leaving a chill in the air. As soon as he crossed the threshold, you rose from your seat and moved to Helaena’s side, offering her a warm smile. "You need not fear the rats; the castle is filled with rat catchers."

Helaena’s frown deepened, her troubled lilac eyes meeting yours as she whispered with conviction, "That is what terrifies me."

Words escaped you, for you understood that Helaena possessed knowledge beyond the grasp of ordinary folk—truths unacknowledged and often dismissed. Instead of voicing your confusion and uncertainty, you simply clasped her hand in yours, offering the silent comfort.

Your gaze shifted, drawn by the soft, deliberate sound of footsteps as they echoed through the confines of Helaena's solar. As you looked up, your heart raced, a rhythmic thudding that quickened with warmth flooding your cheeks and fluttering butterflies stirring restlessly in your stomach. Aemond strode through the door, an unmistakable presence that demanded attention.

It was true what you'd confided to him: you were still a maiden. A maiden, after five centuries of vampiric existence, because how could you interact with any man when Nikaus, Elijah, and Kol perpetually cast watchful shadows over your every move. You recalled a particular moment in 1001 AD, when a reckless infatuation with Tristan de Martel had nearly led you to surrender your maidenhood, only to be halted by Finn’s stern intervention—a chastisement you still felt the sting of.

But Aemond was different. His presence was a siren's call, compelling and irresistible. You had lost yourself in the depths of his gaze, willingly surrendering to the passion that enveloped you, and you never wished to escape the intoxicating spell he wove around you. The ecstasy of your lovemaking had been a revelation, a visceral experience you had never dreamed possible. Despite your initial attempts to keep a distance, Aemond's determination had eroded every barrier you'd erected, and then, as you laid in the warm afterglow of those stolen moments, regret was a distant memory.

In that act, surrounded by pleasure, Aemond had awakened a sense of aliveness within you that you had not felt since you had died. His touch and words made you feel cherished, loved—deep down, you had longed for this connection. Mere days had passed since you had shared that intimate bond, yet every time your eyes met his, unbidden warmth flushed your cheeks anew.

He lingered his gaze on you for what felt like an eternity, an unspoken connection hanging heavily in the air, before directing his attention to Helaena. "Sister," he began, his tone both respectful and confident, "might I steal a moment of Lady Mikaelson's time?"

Helaena glanced between you and Aemond, a subtle spark of understanding dancing in her eyes as she nodded, a gentle smile touching her lips. "Of course, brother."

Rising slowly from your seat, you were acutely aware of the curious gazes from the other ladies in the room. Yet, before you could fully separate yourself from Helaena's side, her hand shot out, delicately grasping your wrist. "Will you come to bid Jaehaerys goodnight before you retire?" Helaena's voice slipped through the air like a delicate melody, inviting yet tinged with uncertainty.

You offered a reassuring nod, your voice soft and warm. "Of course, My Queen."

With that, you turned to Aemond, his patience evident as he awaited your move. As you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, the sound of his footsteps fell steadily in rhythm with yours. Once you had retreated far enough from the safety of Helaena's chambers, you paused and turned to him, your voice laced with curiosity, “What did you wish to—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Aemond's hands cradled your face, pulling you into an unexpected kiss. Surprise rippled through you, manifesting in a soft gasp, but you quickly surrendered to the moment, your lips responding to his with eager warmth. An exhilarating pulse of intimacy washed over you as you opened your mouth, inviting the dance of his tongue with yours, a sweet entanglement that momentarily erased the world around you.

When at last Aemond broke the kiss, his breath came heavy and laden with unspoken emotions, and he pressed his forehead against yours, that mischievous violet eye glinting with resolve. "I plan to go to the small council to announce our betrothal."

Your breath caught in surprise as you took a small step back, trying to comprehend his words. “Betrothal?” The weight of his intentions settled heavily on your heart.

A marriage with him would be folly; he was a prince, destined for heirs and an aging legacy, while you—a vampire—would remain eternally youthfully beautiful, bound to a dead womb. Yet his audacity ignited a spark of indignation in you, prompting a petulant response, “Aemond, you didn’t even ask me.”

A small, infuriating smirk played upon his lips, a faint acknowledgment of your protest. “Will you marry me then?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “How very romantic of you.” The gravity of the moment drew your expression into something more serious as you continued, “Aemond, we are bracing ourselves for war—planning a wedding now would be utterly misplaced.”

“It will be a beacon of hope for the smallfolk,” he argued earnestly, the conviction in his voice palpable.

"At the cost of the kingdom’s coin," you countered sharply, your voice laden with reality.

He dismissed your worries with a wave of his hand, as though to sweep away the logic. “Then we’ll have something modest—”

“Aemond,” you chided softly, lifting your hands to cradle his chiseled face. At your delicate touch, he fell silent, his fierce demeanor momentarily quelled. Deep down, you were acutely aware that his determination to wed you would remain unyielding. In a bid to find common ground you decided to offer an empty concession, “Let us marry after the war.”

His solitary violet eye bore into yours, piercing deeper as if seeking to unravel the very essence of your soul. "You swear it," he demanded, his voice a low thrum of intensity.

Inside, a tumult stirred; 'No,' your thoughts whispered, for you could not predict the war's course. The Iron Throne rightfully belonged to Rhaenyra, and the Blacks appeared poised to triumph. Yet, your heart was tethered to the Greens, bound by an affection that defied reason. The weight of it all threatened to crush you, leading you to contemplate escape back to your world, to your family—a choice that would certainly bring Niklaus's wrath upon you.

But with a deep breath, you embraced the moment, nodding serenely as you wove your words into a gentle lie. "I swear it."

Aemond's gaze lingered in your eyes, a moment stretched between you like the fragile threads of fate. As he nodded, a wave of relief washed over you, warm and undeniable. Yet, as if sealing your pact, his lips found yours once more, igniting a tempest within your heart. The weight of your deception pressed heavily upon you, yet you surrendered to the solace of his kiss, seeking refuge in its intoxication.

The kiss deepened, evolving into something more fervent, as Aemond gently ushered you backward until your back met the cold stone wall. His tongue danced with yours, a fierce desire eclipsing the trepidation that lingered in your mind, as if he sought to claim not merely your lips but your very essence.

A sudden noise pricked at your senses, the swift approach of footsteps echoing through the hallway. In a flurry of instinct, you pushed Aemond away just as a servant passed by. The servant’s gaze flicked towards you, then promptly fell to the ground, yet you could almost feel the unspoken thoughts swirling in their mind. A shiver of apprehension ran through you; you knew whispers would soon scatter among the servants like leaves in the wind.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Aemond clasped your hands, his grip a mix of desperation and longing. "I yearn to be with you again," he mused, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within your core.

"I feel the same," you replied softly, bringing his hands to your lips in a tender gesture, savoring the skin you coveted.

Alas, the moment was fleeting, as the sound of hurried footfalls approached again prompting the two of you to separate once more. Aemond exhaled, a hint of irritation lacing his tone. "And yet, in this castle, we are forever denied our privacy."

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. "What do you propose?"

He paused, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, before his lips parted to reveal his audacious suggestion. "The Street of Silk."

"Aemond—" you interjected, surprise and concern overtaking your thoughts.

"Calm yourself," he urged, his hands finding their way to your waist, drawing you closer, the warmth of his body burning away your reservations. "We would seek only a room, nothing more. A night enveloped in our own secret, away from prying eyes."

A hesitant sigh escaped your lips, your heart fluttering at the prospect yet tethered by caution. "Aemond."

In a tender gesture, he kissed your forehead, followed by soft pecks on your cheeks, then lingered with his lips brushing against yours. It was pathetic how quickly you melted under his affection, yearning for the contact that ignited a fire within you. His voice, barely above a whisper, danced against your lips, "Tonight?"

With a surrender that surprised even yourself, you acquiesced. "Alright." His eye sparkled with triumph as he finally pressed his lips against yours, granting you the sweetness you craved.

Yet, he broke away, his breath mingling with yours. "I shall meet you at your chambers—"

"No," you countered softly, concern lacing your words. "It would be dangerous for us to be seen leaving the castle together."

He regarded you with a stern expression, a protective glimmer in his eye as he shook his head. "Fleabottom is no place for a lady to wander alone."

You smiled gently at his earnestness, reassured him with conviction, "I’ll be fine, Aemond. I promise."

With a resigned sigh from you, he leaned in to steal another kiss, the taste of his resolve lingering. "Then it is settled. Meet me at the Blue Pearl tonight."

“I will,” you vowed, your mind clouded by the intoxicating pull of his presence, rational thought slipping away like sand through fingers.

The Keep lay shrouded in an eerie silence as you stepped into the dimly lit corridor from your chambers. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, as if the very walls held their breath, rendering the castle a hollow shell. With purpose, you made your way toward the Queen’s chambers, determined to fulfill your promise to Helaena and bid the twins a gentle goodnight.

You wrapped your cloak tightly around your shoulders, bracing against the biting winds that swept through the stone hallways. A sense of foreboding clawed at your thoughts, quickening your steps as you approached Helaena's solar.

As you neared her chambers, the quiet was shattered by a pained whimper—a sound that sent a chill racing down your spine. Without hesitation, you pushed through the door, only to freeze in shock at the scene before you. A filthy man loomed over Helaena, his grip merciless as he held a knife to her delicate throat. The metallic scent of her blood hung heavy in the air, as you noticed a small nick on her neck.

Your instincts flared to life, propelling you forward to confront the intruder. But before you could move, strong arms encircled you, halting your advance. "Who the fuck is she?" the brute growled, his gaze locked onto the man who held Helaena captive.

“She’s the queen she is,” the crazed man replied, a sickly laugh escaping his lips, his gaze dancing between you and Helaena, relishing the chaos.

“A son for a son, he said,” came the rough retort of the man holding you, his grip tightening like a vice. “Does she look like a fucking son to you?”

The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning—revenge. These madmen had been sent by the Blacks, likely by Daemon himself, to claim a son in return for Lucerys Valaryon.

Pointing with a blood-stained finger, the deranged man holding Helaena, gestured to the cribs across the room, where Jaehaerys and Jaehaera lay asleep, vulnerable to the whims of fate. “Over there,” he sneered, a glint of madness flashing across his eyes.

A chilling wave of nausea washed over you as dread seeped into your heart, realizing the intent behind his actions. Yet, even with the unfathomable power you possessed, you hesitated. You could kill these men in mere moments, reduce them to shredded pieces, but the fear in Helaena’s wide eyes anchored you. You could not afford to frighten her further.

“Release her,” you commanded, your tone a blend of authority and menace, ever mindful of the trembling figure of the queen. “You do not know the darkness you invite with your intentions”

The grip of the man holding you tightened, his fingers like iron shackles, deaf to your words. Instead, the madman holding Helaena chortled, an unsettling sound that grated against your nerves. "We need to get our head and get out."

A simmering rage ignited within you at his vile insinuation, your voice turning low and menacing as you retorted, "If you dare imply what I think, know that your life shall end before you can ever look upon the prince."

The large brute, his bulk a grotesque parody of strength, pressed his clammy hand against your throat, constricting it as he growled, "Shut your fucking mouth, woman."

In that chilling moment, Helaena found her voice, her eyes wide with terror as they darted between you and the man’s tightening grasp. "I have a necklace," she stammered, her heart echoing her fear, "It's of great value."

The man holding you scoffed, his eyes narrowing with disdain. "That’s not a son."

His grip tightened further, but to you, it was nothing more than the grasp of a mere mortal, a fleeting nuisance. With an air of fatalistic calm, you shrugged, “I’ve warned you, and now you shall reap the consequences.”

As the darkness of your true nature surged, crimson flames ignited in your gaze. Veins suffused with blood snaked under your skin and the sharp glint of fangs elongated in exquisite hunger. The man holding Helaena faltered, the smile that once adorned his lips vanished, replaced by a primal terror as he regarded you. “What’s—what’s happening to your face?!”

Confusion roiled in the eyes of the man who had once held your throat captive. Before he could fully comprehend the depths of his error, you moved with the swiftness of a striking snake, your head whipping around as you buried your fangs deep into his pallid flesh. His scream reverberated like a death knell against the stone.

With one fierce tug, you tore into him—a vicious rip that sent a warm spray of blood cascading over your face, painting your features in hues of crimson. The brute’s body slackened, his grip fading as life bled from him like the night fleeing before dawn. He crumpled to the ground dead.

Your attention shifted, a predatory glare now focused on the other man, who quivered holding Helaena securely but fearfully at knifepoint. His confidence wavered as your fury ignited the air around you, and he stepped back, terror threading his voice, “If you come any closer, I swear I’ll kill her—”

In a heartbeat, you were before him. Your eyes cooled to an earthly hue, compelling yet cold, as your voice held the weight of your compulsion. “Step away from the queen."

The resolve in his eyes shattered, obedience taking root as he released Helaena, fear transforming into a savage obedience. But that was not enough; oh no, they would pay dearly for their actions. You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a whisper laced with venom. “Now… stick your knife in your throat.”

Tears cascaded down his cheeks, streaming with unspoken horror as he felt the weight of your will. Whimpering like a child at the mercy of a storm, he struggled against the compulsion, but your magic throbbed through the air, binding him tighter within your grasp. The dagger trembled in his hand before the metal found flesh, cutting deeply as crimson blessing spilled forth. He gasped, choking as despair overwhelmed him, stabbing again and again until his last breath escaped into the silence of the room, and dropped to the ground.

In the wake of such violence, as blood pooled and splattered across the cold floor, your features softened, the fierce gleam fading from your visage. Your fangs retracted, and your eyes reverted to their natural colour, the monstrous visage slipping away like a shadow at dawn.

A tumult of emotions swirled within you—fear, regret—until your gaze flicked to Helaena, ready to face the disgust you expected. Yet, as her eyes met yours, confusion twisted within you; there was no horror, no disgust in her gaze—only a profound relief.

You took a hesitant step back, bewildered by her calm demeanor. "Are you not afraid of me?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her brow furrowed in genuine confusion as she softly said, “You saved us."

You realized she might be still grappling with the shock, as she drifted across the room, her movements fluid and deliberate. She bypassed the gruesome scene left in your wake, retrieving a handkerchief with an unsettling nonchalance. Approaching you with a tender resolve, she reached forth, seeking to wipe the blood from your face. Her touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the brutality that had just unfolded.

Yet, as the fabric of her care swept across your skin, your brow furrowed at the sight of tears beginning to brim in Helaena's eyes. “Helaena—what's wrong?” you implored, clasping her trembling hands firmly within yours. “You need not fear; all is well now, you are safe.”

Her tears continued to spill softly, tracing delicate paths down her pale cheeks, as she whispered in a voice that seemed to drift like a dream, “I thought I was lost in one of my dreams. I did not realize it was the truth laid bare before me.”

“It was,” you replied gently, your voice a quiet promise. “But it is over now.”

“If you had not been here, Jaehaerys would be—” she faltered, her composure cracking as a choked sob escaped her lips.

You could only watch her, sorrow etched upon your face, as she turned away from you and hurried to the crib where Jaehaerys slept, oblivious to the tempest that had transpired around him and his sister. Slowly, she lifted the sleeping boy into her arms, his silver hair catching the light like stars against the night sky. She cradled him tightly, swaying gently as if to soothe not just him, but the remnants of her own grief.

“They almost took my boy,” Helaena murmured, her voice a soft lament, entwined within the strands of Jaehaerys’ hair, as if she sought comfort in his very existence.

Aemond exhaled sharply as he finally approached the entrance of the Blue Pearl, its facade gleaming with a deceptive allure. He paused for a moment, memories swirling like smoke from the incense within—each recollection a weight pressing down upon him, reminding him of the last time he had stepped through these doors.

As he crossed the threshold into the brothel, the atmosphere assaulted his senses: the heady scent of incense mingled with the intoxicating sounds of fervent moans and whispered promises that echoed through the dimly lit chambers. The air was thick with a palpable energy, a collision of desire and desperation.

Maintaining a cold and stoic demeanor, Aemond navigated the labyrinth of shadowy corners and silken drapes, his singular focus on securing a room where you both could retreat from the burdens of the outside world, if only for a fleeting night. Under the enveloping darkness of his hooded cloak, he radiated an aura of menace; others instinctively parted before him, quaking under the weight of his dangerous glare.

However, his composure faltered for just a moment when he felt a delicate hand brush against his arm. A surge of indignation coursed through him, instincts honed to ready his strike against anyone who dared encroach upon his space—anyone, that is, who was not you.

Yet, upon turning, he found himself face to face with the last person he wished to encounter. Madam Sylvi, the proprietor of this establishment, stood before him, her presence a haunting reminder of a past he had sought to forget. She was the first woman to lay claim to him, a forced initiation into a world of shadows that had snatched away his boyhood, all at the insidious urging of his brother. Aemond's heart raced, caught between the clutches of anger and the bitter taste of old wounds that threatened to resurface.

"My Prince," she began, her lips curving into what she believed to be a beguiling smile. To Aemond, however, it appeared more akin to a grimace painted upon her features. "What an unexpected pleasure it is to see you once again in these halls."

Feeling a tide of shame wash over him, he averted his gaze, staring intently at the carved wooden floor beneath his feet. “All I seek is a room,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

"And which girl shall I send to warm your bed?" she teased, her tone dripping with seduction. Then, with a coy pause, she added, "Or perhaps you are in need of a woman instead?"

He clenched his jaw, his frustration rising. “Just a room,” he insisted, his voice firm, yet faltering.

She let out a soft, lilting hum, feigning disappointment. “A shame,” she purred, her fingers trailing along his arm—a gesture that made his skin crawl. “But know that my arms are always open, especially for you.”

The urge to retaliate surged within him; he imagined the swift, savage justice he could enact. Yet, he found himself rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the memory of their past encounters—memories that danced like shadows in his mind, haunting him still.

Clearing his throat, he risked a glance in her direction, his resolve strengthening. “A Lady will come through your doors. Instruct her where to find me.”

With that, he turned on his heel, striding away before she could utter another word.

Not long after, five figures had made their way into Helaena's solar, their presence a stark contrast to the brutality that had enveloped the chamber moments before. A maid, having spotted one of the trespassers who had slipped into the shadows, acted on her apprehension and sought out a guard.

This led to Lord Otto Hightower being summoned, and he, it seemed, was the sole soul present who maintained the decorum expected of his station. He had seized Aegon with the kind of authoritative grip one might use on a mischievous pup caught reveling in intoxication on the Iron Throne, before promptly calling for Lord Larys.

In due course, Queen Alicent and Ser Criston appeared, ostensibly by chance, though you with your keen senses could detect the unmistakable scent of their shared intimacy lingering upon them, a confirmation of their clandestine liaison.

You sat beside Helaena, who cradled Jaehaerys to her chest as if to shield him from the undercurrents of chaos swirling around them. In your arms, you held Jaehaera, both twins blissfully unaware, lost in the serenity of slumber.

“Who dared to do this? I demand to know! Who is responsible?” Aegon's voice erupted, slicing through the stillness with an edge of fury. News of the attempted assassination against his son had ignited the embers of his inebriated stupor into a roaring blaze of rage. You cast him a disapproving glare, a silent rebuke for his outburst, mindful of the slumbering children.

“The man uttered, ‘a son for a son, he said,’ I suspect he was referring to Prince Daemon, Your Grace,” you interjected softly, your voice a steady balm amidst the tumult.

Alicent, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, approached Helaena, settling beside her. She reached out tenderly, her fingers brushing against the peaceful features of sleeping Jaehaerys, you could see how guilt was feasting upon her soul.

"These villains, these traitors," Aegon spat, his words laced with venom. The anguish of nearly losing his heir carved lines of distress into his face, revealing that beneath the hardened exterior, perhaps Aegon did possess a heart capable of love. "My son is my legacy. My son is heir to the iron throne!”

His gaze then turned, sharp and accusatory, to Ser Criston, whose presence loomed in the doorway. "And where were you, Ser Criston? The Lord Commander of my King's Guard slumbers while my blood is threatened?"

You noted how Alicent’s expression tightened with concern as she cast a furtive glance toward Criston, who stared resolutely at the stone floor, his shame palpable. "I was abed, Your Grace, having dispatched orders to the Night's Watch," he replied.

"Abed?" Aegon echoed, incredulity lacing his words. "While your post was to safeguard the sanctity of my family?"

The Hand let out a weary sigh from his position at the periphery of the room. "Calm yourself, Aegon. The prince still lives," he interjected, attempting to quell the rising tide of tension.

"Yes," Aegon yelled, his attention shifting to you, "only because of Lady Mikaelson. A woman! All of you should hang your heads in shame."

You inhaled sharply at Aegon's jab, which he unknowingly let out. Lord Larys, his gaze insidious and lingering, leaned forward with a slithering curiosity. "What I truly wish to understand is how you managed to subdue two fully grown men, my lady."

The weight of every gaze in the room now turned to you, even Aegon momentarily relinquished his tirade to await your reply. You spoke with steady conviction, "I grew up among five brothers, My Lord. The dance of a blade is not foreign to me." Your voice joined the whispers of the past, your eyes glancing at the first man you had killed. "The first was a brute, slow in his approach. The second, however, was a madman, blinded by insanity."

"It matters not how she accomplished it," Aegon interjected, his impatience barely concealed, "The only thing that matters is she saved Jaehaerys' life."

A wave of relief washed over you as the next figure entered Helaena's solar, a dim light spilling in from the hallway. Aemond's gaze instantly locked onto the grim scene before him, his single eye widening as it fell upon the two lifeless bodies, bloodied and sprawled across the elegant stone floor. “What has happened here?” he demanded.

Aegon's temper flared like wildfire at the sight, stepping forward to confront Aemond, but the latter remained unruffled, his expression a picture of cool composure amidst the turmoil. “And where were you, while my son lay nearly murdered in his own bed?”

“On patrol, brother,” Aemond replied, his tone smooth and casual, though the lie dripped with an unsettling ease. His eyes then landed on you, his brow furrowing as concern flickered across his striking features. Ignoring Aegon entirely, he approached you, noting the streaks of crimson marring your skin. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice softening.

As his hand reached towards your face, you instinctively recoiled, acutely aware of the watchful eyes surrounding you both. “It is not my blood, Your Highness,” you assured him.

Aegon's voice roared again, filling the solar like a tempest. “What course shall we take now? How do we retaliate?” His frustration echoed off the walls.

You could hear Otto Hightower’s resigned sigh. “This is not a moment for rash vengeance, Aegon. Perhaps there is some good may yet come of this.”

“I will not be seen as weak,” Aegon ground out, determination hardening his features.

“You’re already seen as weak, Aegon,” Otto replied with cold clarity, counting off each grim incident, “A hasty coronation, a dragon escaping the pit. The people see an omen. They whisper in the streets. They say, perhaps Rhaenyra should be queen.”

"Let us thus feign that the deed is done, that her assassination was successful." He paused, his keen gaze settling upon the slumbering form of little Jaehaerys. “You would name her: monster. Slayer of infants. I would do more than that—a funeral procession. We shall construct a small casket for Jaehaerys and let the realm gaze upon the handiwork of this pretender who seeks the crown.”

“Your grand design has a singular flaw, Grandsire,” Aegon spat, stepping protectively in front of Helaena and the sleeping child, his posture defiant. “Jaehaerys lives. His existence cannot be kept hidden within these stone walls; word of his survival will soon seep through the cracks.”

“Not if we send him away—this very night,” Otto replied, his voice resolute, a calculated glint igniting his gaze.

“No,” Helaena murmured, instinctively tightening her embrace around Jaehaerys, as if her warmth alone could shield him from danger.

“No!” Aegon echoed, his tone thunderous compared to Helaena’s whisper. “It is far too dangerous for him beyond these castle walls.”

“And yet,” Lord Hightower replied, his tone sharp as a dagger, “he came dangerously close to death even within them.”

“Then where shall he go?” Alicent broke her silence, her voice carrying the weight of desperation.

The Lord Hand fell silent, his brow furrowed in contemplation, before his keen gaze shifted toward you. “Lady Mikaelson,” he began, a shrewd glint of ambition glimmering in his eyes, “your family resides in the Reach, do they not?”

"Indeed, Lord Hand," you replied smoothly, a lie slipping from your lips with practiced ease. You anticipated his intentions even before he continued. "We lie just beyond Golden Grove."

“Ah, that lies near Highgarden,” Otto mused, his mind racing with possibilities before breaking the stillness of the room, “The Tyrells have pledged neutrality, rendering it one of the scant havens in all of Westeros. Thus, it is decided: Jaehaerys shall journey there with Lady Mikaelson tonight. She has protected Jaehaerys once and now she will do so again.”

Aegon, his fingers brushing through Jaehaerys's soft curls as he rested, sighed in reluctant agreement. "Very well, but I demand that half of the White Cloaks accompany them."

Otto scoffed derisively, shaking his head. "No, such a show of force would raise too many suspicions. We can spare only two, perhaps four at the most."

"It would be swifter and safer by dragonback," Aemond interjected, his voice threading through the tension in the room. You turned to meet his gaze, which seemed to be focused only on you, "I can take Lady Mikaelson and Jaehaerys upon Vhagar."

Otto Hightower’s brow furrowed in disapproval. "That would be far too conspicuous."

“Then I shall accompany them,” Aemond asserted, his determination hardening like steel.

"No," Aegon countered firmly, his tone brooking no dissent. "We need you here."

Before Aemond could mount another argument, you rose from your seat, gently moving the sleeping Jaehaera into Alicent's waiting arms. Your voice rang out, steady and resolute amidst the rising tempests of conflict. “It is alright," you spoke clearly, “I will go.”

If Aemond ever met the Mikaelsons...

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@barnes70stark @izabell26 @anyisaravia2001 @urdeftonesgrrrl @helo1281917 @strangefunthornqueen @ellie-xOxo @hueanhdang @elenapri0502 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @caged-birdies-blog @darktrashsoulbear @lenavonswartzschild @writtenbyhollywood @gl4ssw1ngp1xy @goddesslilithmoriarty @sunset18rose @filmflux @esposadomd @sara-grimes-yess @littybeech @gyneve @https-kokomi @void21 @yariany02 @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @niktwazny303 @ln8118 @missyviolet123 @caribbeangal @ggukiespace @levimaids

[zooone]

as above, so below

╰┈➤ a grumpy grim reaper falls in love with an optimistic angel.

one sided hatred to lovers; grim reaper!wilbur x angel!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - here it is, my magnum opus. even tho its not done! i had to split this fic in half, so unfortunately there will have to be a part two :( very sorry. but on a lighter note, HUGE HUGEEE thank you to @harbingerofheartbreak. as per usual, she helped me visualized the entire thing and even made some of the plots and ideas that i used. in fact, the original fic was supposed to be a grim reaper x human, but it was florence who thought of the grim reaper x angel prompt and i could not thank her enough. furthermore, she helped keep this fic going and constantly pushed me beyond my limits to do so. the fic was started july 21st and it was supposed to be shelved after a couple weeks, but she made me keep going. she is the best forever and ever go read ynaf. additionally, another big thanks to @starsyoubreaklikesugardust for being another little beta reader for this fic. she always has the greatest ideas known to man and i wanted to run everything by her bcuz it was like having van gogh rate my painting. i had to share this with her earlier than i thought cuz she was threatening me but we dont have to talk about that smile. both of these people helped me so much, and i will forever be in debt to them.

all in all, please please enjoy and give this your love pretty please <3

hi! message from about a year later (since i still get notes from this) but i do not support wilbur soot at all, and do not write for him anymore. so part two of this fic is discontinued. :( thank u for all the luv from this fic

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - talk of death, religious aspects, and swearing

she had a lot of questions about wilbur.

not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "on a scale of one to ten, how much does being a murderer really affect your mood?"

all of these questions would go unanswered. including "what's your favorite band?" no matter what, she just could not crack the code of wilbur soot.

to say he was intricate would be an understatement, and her ongoing curiosity would surely be the death of her.

unless he had something to do about it.

-

he stomped away from her on the rooftop as she followed after him.

"i told you to leave me alone," wilbur grunted, trying to speed walk past her with his long scythe trailing behind him. "is that so difficult to understand?"

"i just- i just wanna talk-" she panted, trying to catch up to him. her white dress flowed beneath her, but wilbur tried not to think about it too much.

"no." he made a sharp turn to fully face her, making her nearly bump into him.

her frown was illuminated by her golden halo, making her hair look almost cloud-like. her eyes glimmered like the entire sun was like a clown nose on her face, despite them arguing in the cold of night.

she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. her halo also lit his face up, and she saw the permanent frown and scrunched up eyebrows under his dark hood.

"why not, wilbur?"

he looked at her like she asked if the moon was real.

"you ruined my job. again." he punctuated his sentence with her name, saying it like he was curling at the nasty taste of it.

he always hated her. there was no mistaking it. he hated the way she giggled and danced around just because she could. he hated the way she spoke, always sounding so bright and happy and fucking naive. he hated her big white wings and her shiny halo.

"there you go talking about your job! like its all that matters to you," she yelled over the continuous honking cars beneath them. "do you even care about anything else in life?"

they weren't even supposed to interact, her being an angel and him being the prince of death. but he was always out doing his grim reaper duties, and she couldn't help but stop him.

he just wanted to follow orders from mumza- the queen of death. every single day that he existed, he had to take the lives of those who were ready. it ate him alive, but it was his only purpose.

"i can't care about everything else in life if i have to care about everything else in death," he grumbled under his breath, making her go silent. he liked her silence, loved it even, because that meant she couldn't criticize him for everything he did.

he would tell her about how angry the job made him. that if he could just switch spots with his brother, the stork, he would be the happiest being in hell. that he hated being the grim reaper almost as much as she hated him.

but if there was anything he really hated, it was opening up to people. and vice versa.

the last time he remotely opened up to someone, it was his mother, and he barely remembered the conversation. it was all the way back when he was welcome to smile. all he could recall was it being something about love, whatever it meant.

"will you please leave me alone now?" he sighed, rubbing his hand in his eye. he watched her eyes go from their usual large state to becoming droopy. she silently nodded her head.

"sorry. goodbye, mr. grim reaper," and the title tore him to shreds. it angered him, over everything else, that all he would be to her was an evil being.

yet, he watched as she jumped from the rooftop, fluttering her wings until she flew away. as she looked back over at him, he couldn't place the odd feeling left in his stomach. if it was guilt or hatred, he would never know.

he would continue to travel, picking up the souls on his way. she always thought he was lucky for being able to travel wherever he wanted. she always wanted to befriend the humans- in fact, she wanted to befriend everyone, but she found it impossible when she was constantly being held back.

he arrived back to hell's palace, a bag in one hand, and his scythe in the other. his head drooped down, avoiding any unnecessary eye contact with the other demons.

that hope would be short lived, however, as a demon took his shoulder as he walked.

"wilbur!" he spoke cheerfully, as if he wasn't living among lava pools and ash.

"quackity," wilbur responded in the same, monotone voice. it made the demon groan.

"quackity-" he mocked, changing his shape to an exact replica of wilbur's. mimic demons, they were called, and they were able to take form of any other being, even adorning their voice. it came in handy for most demon's entertainment, but it certainly didn't faze wilbur.

he stared into the mimic of his face, hating what stared back at him.

"oh come on. that usually works on people," quackity frowned as he twisted himself back to his natural state. he began poking wilbur with his blackened hands. "just give me a little giggle, wilbur."

"no." he'd said the word so much that it rolled perfectly off his tongue. "and for fucks sake, please put on a shirt."

quackity laughed loudly. "we're in hell, wilbur! its hot as- well, hell down here. don't tell me you haven't thought about walking around shirtless either." he paused, putting his hands on wilbur's dark outfit, "or.. hoodless.."

wilbur glared with an unamused look on his face, shrugging quackity's touch off of him and trying to continue walking along his path. walking away from conversations never worked to end them, yet he still tried it.

it would be the second example today that his tactic never worked, because quackity continued to walk along with him into the palace.

"what's the catch today?" he said it like it was a cheer. "did you get the big numbers? beat your high score yet?"

he would say he could feel his blood boil, but the flames in hell already did that.

"no. i don't keep track," he explained simply, pouring his bag's content into the soul sorter. it went to the fates to decide whether the soul was good or bad. simply enough, the good souls would be transported to heaven and the bad ones would stay. sometimes he imagined them debating over a soul's purity. the sound of screams every time he opened the bag would never become easier to stomach.

"bummer," quackity hummed. "why don't you try to make the job a little fun?"

"because i don't want to, okay?" he raised his voice. this time, quackity caught the memo and stayed quiet, except for a "shit, okay." under his breath.

wilbur walked along the palace's stairs, leaving quackity alone in the lobby without another word. this time, walking away from the situation made it stop. the third time really was the charm.

he set his hood down to his shoulders with a sigh, being able to fully see the gold and red palace for what it was. all of the vibrant and bright colors that quite literally clashed with the flames. it was scary and huge, but it was home to him. it was all he'd really known.

he went up to his room, laying on his bed with a groan. sometimes he wished his bed was quite literally made out of feathers, because his back always ached. tommy always said it was because of his "fucking posture", but wilbur knew he had no room to talk. just the thought of him jumping into a big pile of fluffy feathers made his bones ease a little more.

he would spend the night rolling around in his not-feather bed, having issues with his sleep. it was such a frequent problem for him that it was barely even a problem. just how he existed.

and, meanwhile, she would spend her "night" (in quotations. it never got dark in heaven.) staring up at the sun, wondering what sort of buttons she could've possibly pushed with wilbur to make him hate her. it was a recurring thought, but it kept her up too frequently.

the worst part about waking up was simply that. waking up. wilbur would roll out of bed, fluff up his hair a little bit, put on the same clothes, and be going. he went through the same routine every day and he hated it. but at the same time, if anyone disrupted his routine, he'd be angered.

"wilbur!"

and his routine was ruined.

"morning, tommy," he muttered, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. he couldn't be bothered to be angry this early, and definitely not to tommy. "aren't you supposed to be in heaven right now?"

"i'm on break," tommy said in a matter-of-fact tone. he stretched his arms and his wings with a groan, leaving some stray yellowed feathers behind. "delivering babies to peoples' doors is quite the workout."

wilbur barely registered his words, staring idly past tommy. his eyes wandered more on a decoration on a table behind him. he didn't even notice that tommy had continued speaking until he put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"yeah. both mum and dad really like me!" tommy spoke, ruffling his hands through his hair until he realized his goggles were in the way. the mention of phil darkened his mood.

"mum told you to stop calling him 'dad'," wilbur spoke monotone and simple, as usual.

and as usual, tommy groaned at wilbur's monotone voice and simple words, slouching down. "she also told you to stop being so fucking gloomy."

wilbur felt the need to do a lot of things; one- hit tommy with his scythe, two- tell tommy what a privileged asshole he sounded like, and three- do both at the same time. but wilbur had an okay-ish perception of tommy, growing up alongside the boy took a lot. but as annoying as the boy was, he was wilbur's company. even if he would rather swallow his scythe than to admit it aloud.

instead of acting on his mental list of intrusive thoughts, wilbur only sighed. he didn't bother to pick the conversation back up, his eyes wandering to the decoration again. had they always had that there? it looks off-centered.

"well," tommy noticed wilbur's spacing and patted his shoulder as he walked towards the stairs. "good luck today."

wilbur stared blankly through the fringe of sweaty hair on his forehead. inside, he was trying to form whatever a smile was. "thank you, tommy."

he watched as tommy jumped down the stairway, yellow tufts of hair flying with him. he heard a shout from down below, "and don't forget to fix your posture!"

wilbur scoffed in response, sounding more uninterested than he intended to, but ultimately pulling his shoulders back. a new day! a new window of opportunity! is what wilbur would think, if he wasn't wilbur.

he grabbed the railing of the stairway, his pale thin hand contrasting with the gold. he stared at his feet the entire time stepping down. he'd already forgotten about "fixing his posture".

he made his way down the lobby, not getting a chance to speak to his mother due to the abundance of demons lined up, trying to tell her that she was making a mistake. it was typical, but it still left bags under her eyes. wilbur only gave her a timid wave as a greeting before exiting through the palace's doors.

he dragged his tacky shoes through the red dirt beneath him, watching as tiny rocks rolled along his feet before stopping. he almost ran head first into the elevator due to how long he kept his gaze down, but luckily he saved himself from the mental embarrassment.

he stepped inside, proving his identity to the machine far more times than he needed to. mimic demons would always try to steal his finger print to use the elevator and get themselves back onto earth, but it was never successful. he had a keycard, just in case the identity proving didn't work. tommy had the same.

as the doors parted and he made a careful step out, he did his daily greeting to the guard (his daily greeting being a casual glare and a furrow of his eyebrows) and used his scythe to poke himself out.

from the surface, it would simply look like a boulder being turned over. but as wilbur stepped onto the grass, he took a moment to breathe. the air on earth was far better than the smoke in hell. he would spend a great deal of time taking a couple deep breaths, appreciating the silence, oh the lovely sound of absolutely nothing-

"wilbur! there you are!"

he almost screamed. instead, he only turned to the source of the way-too-cheerful voice, saying her name in utter disbelief. "what are you doing here?"

he didn't speak as if he were asking a question. he wasn't actually interested in why she was here in the grass with her elegant white dress and her annoyingly wide smile, using her wings to shield herself from the sun, even if they were translucent.

"i was waiting for you!" she squeaked, getting up from her spot in the grass and practically skipping up towards him. she had what looked to be a gardener's nightmare in her hands. "this is for you!"

before he could say another word, she pushed his hood off of his head. she had to use her wings to reach the top of his hair, but she was still able to run her hand through his brown waves. and as she giggled, she placed her makeshift flower crown on his head.

she pushed herself away- still hovering on her wings, and took a long, meaningful look at him. "you look great!"

"i feel disgusting," he said with anger, taking the weeds out of his hair and stuffing them sloppily into his bag. "why did you do that."

she looked at him with a frown, but still tried to make herself sound happy. her halo flickered softly. "it.. it was supposed to be a gift for you."

"yeah? well i hated it," he squinted his gaze down at her, and she could feel herself shrinking the more and more he looked.

she stayed quiet, the halo above her head still flicked on and off. she looked at him with nothing but a frown, lowering herself so that her feet hit the ground.

what she failed to notice was that he unfurrowed his brows ever so slightly upon seeing her upset.

"let me just get going, okay?" he spoke, trying to make his voice a little bit softer but still keeping the agonizing punch in there.

she spoke quieter now. "i have one more thing for you."

wilbur flinched, fully expecting a glitter bomb to come out of her pocket. but to his surprise, it wasn't.

she pulled out a pack of gummy worms, handing it to him with a pitiful smile on her face. he took it, examining it slowly.

"why is it open?" he took another look at it and realized it was almost half empty.

"umm.. i got a little hungry waiting for you," she mumbled, playing with the hem of her dress. "you were taking a little bit long."

"and speaking of which, i've been talking to you for a little bit too long," he retorted, crumpling up the bag of gummy worms in his palm. the sides of the bagging were practically fighting with the cage he made out of his fingers.

he began to walk in the opposite direction, debating in his mind exactly how long it would take to make his way out of the field and to the nearest trash can. she quickly followed behind him, almost tripping on herself in the process.

"hey- i didn't expect a hello from you, but a thank you would at least be nice!" she yelled as he speed-walked away with his grumpy walk and stone shoulders. "i'm talking to you!"

"and i'm not," he grumbled, fiddling to put his hood back onto his head as a way of closing himself off.

"just-" she flapped her wings, trying to be alongside him. "just have some gummy worms, please?"

he glared, slightly squinting from the piercing light of her halo. "maybe later."

"right now."

as much as he didn't want to, he stopped dead in his tracks. his stare was hurtful and his hand clenched onto his scythe. that was the most demanding he'd ever heard of her.

there was a voice in his head telling him to leave, to just let her have the last word and be gone. but he felt like he couldn't move.

"excuse me?" he only said, scrunching his eyebrows up.

"i want you to have them right now," she enunciated her words, crossing her arms and trying to copy his expression. she was fighting her usual bright smile under her pursed lips. "in front of me."

he blinked, almost starstruck. "why?"

she seemed nearly surprised at his one word question, her stern voice softening slightly. "you look like you haven't been taking care of yourself," as she spoke through a pout, he could feel his face warming up, like tiny little punching bags beneath his skin. "i wanna make sure you're eating."

he hated the feeling of his cheeks going warm. he slept in hell, obviously he knew what warmth was. but for some reason it felt even weirder when it was behind his skin. he cleared his throat with a cough.

"this? you think this is healthy?" he held up the crumpled, half-empty bag, speaking with his forceful actions.

she went quiet again, only speaking loud enough for him to hear. "i couldn't afford anything else at the gas station."

the feeling of warmth in his cheeks soon boiled over into anger. "you couldn't afford anything else?" he repeated in disbelief, "you are quite literally an angel! you're invisible to the human eye! it is so easy for you to steal."

"but i don't wanna be a bad person!" she copied his raised voice, standing on her tiptoes as almost a challenge. "i leave money in the cash register for the man. you know, he's really struggling. he could use the money. his name is robert, i think-"

"i don't care!" wilbur screamed, cutting her off completely. she flinched at his voice, feeling overwhelmed tears start to prickle from her eyes. she hid behind her wings, afraid that he might do something drastic.

he felt his shoulders shrink at her reaction, but ultimately grumbled and opened the pack of gummy worms. he hesitated, holding out the candy in front of him.

she opened her eyes from her flinch, and saw him sniffing the gummy worm. a smile spread across her face. "you just.. take a bite out of it."

"i know," he muttered. he was already mad enough that he had to eat it, he didn't want to be instructed on how.

"oh.. okay. i mean- i just kinda assumed that you didn't know because i don't think there are gummy worms in hell. they'd get all sticky and stuff. at least, that's what i've heard. are there really no gummy worms in hell?"

he looked at her with no amusement on his face. she looked right back at him, however, wanting an answer to her long winded question that was somehow said in a singular breath.

"no… no there aren't," he spoke slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. "are there gummy worms in heaven?"

why was he making conversation with her? he should be out collecting souls right now, not talking about stupid little gummy worms with this stupid little angel. he mentally slapped himself in the face, cringing with a shake of his head.

"no, there aren't," she batted her eyelashes like she was trying to think for a moment. "but phil sometimes gives me money for gummy worms. i share it with the others!"

he was barely registering her words, his mind still clouded with the mental boxing match he was having with himself. he was being stupid. not even the mention of phil was able to knock him from his thoughts.

"hey," she waved her hand in his face, acting as the referee and stopping his boxing match. he was almost at a knockout. "you've been making that face for a while. do you not like gummy worms?"

wilbur didn't know how to really respond to the question, having never even tried gummy worms before. he looked back at her. she had her full attention on him, waiting for another answer that he would hopefully not blunder.

"it's.. it's fine."

he definitely blundered.

he ignored it, not ready for a round two fight, and put the gummy worm in his mouth.

she leaned forward. "how is it?"

it was about the best damn thing he's ever had.

"it's.. okay, i guess."

"great!" she jumped- fucking jumped. "im sure you have to be on your way for your very important job-"

he completely forgot about his being the grim reaper, straightening up suddenly with widened eyes and tightening his grip on his scythe. he cursed under his breath, running towards the direction of the city.

"hey, i didn't finish!" she called out, catching up to him once more with flaps of her wings.

"i can't talk. you've already made me late enough," his hood almost fell off in the wind with how quickly he was running. "fuck, mum's gonna be pissed."

she would, in fact, not be pissed. she was always far too busy to even greet wilbur or tommy, and they hadn't done any sort of domestic activity in what felt like an eternity. he tried to convince himself that he didn't care, that she was just busy with being the queen of death, but it was extremely lonely.

there wasn't any time for them to really speak. they were both always busy and family meals were long forgotten. in fact, wilbur had never eaten in front of another person before. the most he'd done was eat some boring, rotten food while sitting on his floor with tommy- and even then, he was only picking at it idly with his fork.

he found comfort in eating alone. there was no one there to judge him or to argue. it was just him, his thoughts, and the literal grayed out food they had in hell. but there was something always so reminiscent about having food with another person, even if it was just something like dessert.

"oh," she sighed, moving her wings idly. she watched as he ran away without another look. her arms swung at her sides in an almost confused fashion. "okay. um- hope you like your gummy worms! bye wilbur!"

at least she didn't call him mr. grim reaper again.

he didn't care, anyway, just trying to get to work on the job he obviously hated. but when he stopped to catch his breath, he couldn't help but stare at the pack of gummy worms in his sweaty palms, the colorful designs contrasting his dull looking hand.

he looked around. it looked like there were no cheerful angels in sight, so he figured himself to be safe. he popped another gummy worm into his mouth, scrunching his nose at the taste of something so impossibly sweet. it was a pleasant change from the tasteless foods in hell, and the addictive sweetness coated his tongue for a while.

he stuffed the rest of the pack into his bag, appreciating how empty it was without the souls inside it- a temporary feeling.

wilbur already felt like he'd wasted enough time, and got to work. bringing people to death's door wasn't exactly the easiest job.

he started with a car crash, wincing at the amount of shattered glass and blood everywhere. he fell sick to his stomach with a nasty feeling bubbling up in his throat. all those years dealing with death and it still never got easier to see the causes.

he held his scythe up slowly, shutting his eyes in a flinch. he thought of a thousand things all at once, trying to focus on one. they have to die. i have to put them out of their misery. they're dying because they have to, not because i chose to.

he took a breath, feeling like needles were going up his nose and into his lungs, and swung the weapon down.

it sunk through the person's body without struggle, opening up a passageway for him. he removed his scythe carefully, as if it would hurt them.

he sat on his knees next to the car. although his body was phantom-like against the gravel, he could still feel the roughness under him.

he held a cold hand to the person's back, trying to ignore how it looked to see the life drain from under their eyelids and filter out onto his palm. as soon as he could no longer feel a nauseating pull on his hand, he lifted it gently. he watched as the soul threaded directly off the person, catching onto his fingertips.

he didn't bother to take a closer look at it. the last thing he wanted was to remind himself that these people were actually human. he only took it in his palms, mushing it until it turned into a small circular shape. he put it in his bag, not caring to look at what else was in it.

wilbur would continue to follow through with that sequence throughout the day, as he usually did. scythe, hand, soul, bag. when he was growing up, mumza told him that he would be used to it in no time. but as "no time" passed, he still felt like throwing up after each day.

he made his way down the elevator, his shoulders stinging with the weight of his bag. the souls were practically weightless, but gathering so many into his bag made it sag down. he held his scythe with two hands, his arms being too sore to function properly on their own.

tommy was waiting for him at the steps of the palace, ignoring everyone lined up at the doors. his elbow was on his knee, and his face was being held up in his palm. he had been playing with a stone, trying to break it with his fingertips.

"wilbur," he automatically sprung up upon seeing his brother. he used to go in for hugs, however stopped shortly after wilbur started discussing how much he hated them. "mum wants to see you. says its important."

wilbur took time to react to his words, feeling like his bones weren't his. he only hummed an, "oh. okay," as he made his way up the steps, his feet barely dragging behind him.

"wait-" tommy called out, making wilbur almost freeze on cue. "i was.. i was wondering if you wanted to hang out by the fountain.. of wishes. the one up there. like- like we used to..?"

wilbur's breath stalled, stopping in his lungs. he'd barely even remembered it, but was holding back a smile at the memory.

that smile became easy to suppress as it slowly disappeared. he remembered all of it.

"mum doesn't want us talking to phil," was all wilbur muttered. he finally took a breath, his chest rising and falling with a sigh. "sorry."

"its not like that anymore!" tommy tried, throwing his hands up in the air in an almost child-like fashion. "they've changed, phil especially! i talked to him the other day, and-"

"mum doesn't want us talking to phil, tommy," he enunciated it slower this time. watching tommy's shoulders shrink, a sinking grayness fell over his face like a cloud was above him.

"yeah. okay," tommy sighed with a shake of his head. he played with the calloused skin on his fingers. "you're right."

wilbur stood there for a great deal of time. as much as it physically pained him, he felt a trapped sensation in his chest.

"tommy?" he spoke softly, barely enough for the both of them to hear. "you're a good kid."

he left before tommy could respond, expecting the boy to make some stupid remark about how soft he was turning. tommy didn't react that way, however. he stood alone on the steps, taking breaths watching as wilbur walked away.

wilbur made his way past the screaming, impatient people. he was always hateful towards loud noises as they made his skin crawl. he thought maybe that was the reason he hated the angel's voice so much.

there he went again thinking of that stupid angel. if he'd given her any more room in his mind, she'd have to pay the rent.

shaking his head from stupid thoughts, he called his mother's name, gaining her attention.

"wilbur," she spoke softly, her voice too tired from all the demons and ghosts she spoke to. her black hair hung over her face messily, but it was covered by a large lacy hat. "how are you?"

wilbur knew she wasn't actually curious about how he was feeling. it was just a filler for the missing years of his childhood.

"i'm doing well," a lie, "tommy said you wanted to talk to me?"

he saw his mother's face light up, as if she'd just remembered something blatantly obvious. wilbur could imagine her thoughts- "oh, thats my son, i forgot."

she fished for something on a table near her large throne. it looked more shiny than any angel's halo. damn it, why was he thinking about her again?

"here," she handed an envelope to him with her large hand. he hesitated in taking it. "the messenger said it was for you. you don't usually get mail, so i figured it was important."

wilbur stared at the wax seal, the intricate pattern almost painful to stare at for too long. "are you sure this is for me? im not-"

"im so sorry, wilbur," her eyebrows disappeared into the shape of her hat as she put a hand to her black gown. "i have to get going talking to these people," she motioned to the line in front of her. "i also have a super busy day. i have to-"

"its fine, mum," he cut her off just as she did to him. he couldn't feel any remorse for his lack of formality. "you're.. doing great."

he spared himself from the long speech his mother always gave about how busy she was. it was always a drag to hear. tommy said it was her way of indirectly apologizing for not giving him family meals- but wilbur always thought that if he was right, she would directly say it.

in all honesty, however, he missed being able to sit next to someone and eat something.

the black lipstick on her face formed into a smile. "thank you, wilbur," she sighed, her body already facing the demon she was talking to last. "and tell me what the letter is!"

"i will," another lie. he was really great at them because she could barely ever hear them.

as he was going to the soul sorter, he turned the letter over in his hand, squinting at the written address. it read, "hell's palace (if it's real! i've never been there but i've heard about it!) for wilbur!" with a bunch of hearts and smiley faces. wilbur felt himself go sick to the stomach, nearly tripping on himself.

it was probably that stupid angel trying to give him a pity letter that he didn't want. he scowled at the thought as he emptied his bag into the soul sorter.

that dumb little angel, who did she think she was? did she genuinely think that wilbur would soften up to her because of a little letter with hearts all over it?

but as wilbur was coming up with more mean adjectives, items had been rejected from the soul sorter, and fell out.

it was her flower crown and gummy worms.

wilbur felt his angered expression slowly fade away like sand in an hourglass. he stared at the objects on the ground by his feet.

he was reminded of her soft smile as she put the flower crown on his head, her gentle touches to his hair like he was delicate. or how she forced him to eat fucking gummy worms because of his health.

he could feel the tiniest sliver of a smile peeking out from the corners of his lips. no, what was he doing? that angel was always so judgemental of him. from the moment they first met, she was always criticizing his job and she was always being rude to him.

but, she still cared about him.

wilbur didn't know how to react to that thought. his stomach felt like it was clawing its way out of him, and that weird, warm feeling came back to his face. he hated it.

he bent over, picking up the flowers and gummy worms. he held them in his hands and under his robe, just in case someone saw him holding them.

he quickly went up the stairs, cutting the corner to his room so that no one saw him. he set the flowers, gummy worms, and letter on his desk, his hands propping him up. he stared, yet again, at the objects until he realized- he hadn't even opened her letter yet.

he took a sharp inhale, his fist pressed so hard against the table that he didn't even register the fact that his hands were shaking. he leaned back, taking the envelope with him.

sure enough, it was from her.

"dear wilbur!

hi! i hope this delivered to the right address. i thought mail would be easier in the afterlife, but it really isn't. i hope you're okay!! i hope you didn't hate the gummy worms too much and that you are taking care of yourself! get plenty of sleep please.

i was writing to ask if you wanted to meet me for ice cream! i asked phil, and he said that ice cream would melt in hell too, so i wanted to have some with you. i can show you all the good flavors and everything.

it would be tomorrow, i've listed the time and address below. i hope to see you there!

ps. you better come with a full eight hours of sleep!"

he read over the letter at least a thousand times, his eyes glazing all over the hearts and smiley faces that she used to punctuate each sentence. he felt like he was going to throw up his ugly, beating heart. he didn't know if he should write back or even show up.

it would be his first time properly eating in front of someone in a while, and the thought made him nervous, almost.

as if to taunt him, tommy burst into the room, the sudden loud noise making wilbur scream. he hid the letter on his desk behind him.

"woah," tommy put his hand up to almost shush wilbur, as if he were some wild tiger. "calm down, man."

"sorry-" wilbur straightened himself up, coughing out of awkwardness. he felt his skin melting off of him, and he wanted something to make the tense air easier. "tommy, can you cover for me tomorrow?"

oh god. was he really that desperate to start a conversation?

tommy's eyebrows disappeared into his golden tufts of hair, a confused look grazing his face. "you want me to what?"

"cover.. for me?" he couldn't even believe the words he was saying. "i have a.. thing tomorrow-" no he didn't. he wasn't gonna go. "and.. i need someone to do my job."

"what thing? its not like you have a.." tommy's words trailed off as he stared at his brother in terror. "do you?"

"do i have a what..?" wilbur spoke with confusion as tommy gawked at him. he stage whispered, as if someone were watching.

"do you have a date?"

wilbur's chest bloomed with an awful sensation, his heartbeat picking up and pounding against his ribs. "what? no, i-" he felt like his mouth was stuffed with tar and feathers. "no, of course not, tommy."

"okay! okay," the boy held his gloved hands up in defense, backing away from a powder keg in the form of his brother. "but, whatever it is, how do i cover for you?"

wilbur dropped his tensed shoulders. "you always talk about how easy my job seems, right?"

"what?" tommy screeched, his gold wings flinching with him. "but- but you're the prince of death and i'm the prince of life! how am i supposed to do that?"

wilbur felt his stomach churn at the comparison. he hated the way people would always say "the prince of death" like it would curse the next seven generations of life. his eyebrows furrowed like caterpillars above his eyes.

"then at least pretend that i'm working," he muttered. "it's gonna be easy. i'm sure mum won't even notice."

tommy's lips shifted as he bit the inside of his cheek. he knew wilbur was right. mumza barely said hi to him too.

"okay," tommy sighed as his shoulders fell in defeat. he pointed a finger at wilbur, "but you owe me big time!"

wilbur nodded in response, shooing tommy away with a flick of his hand. tommy listened (although not shutting the door properly), and left his brother alone in his room. the letter was still hidden behind him.

he sighed, feeling his lungs shrink intensely. he had no clue what to do or how to pull it off.

wilbur went to sleep earlier that night, trying to fulfill her promise to get eight hours of sleep. when he woke up, he could feel his bones almost moving on their own. it felt odd to not have the burden of being the soul taking grim reaper.

he looked at himself in the mirror. he looked nothing short of depressing.

he walked over to his closet, sighing as he was face to face with the same rotten black robes he wore. people always trashed on tommy for owning the same white, red sleeved shirt, but wilbur wasn't any better with his duplicates.

he groaned, his head falling in a near defeat. though, he could see a small glint of yellow. hesitating, he picked it up, taking off his cloak to put it on.

it was a really old sweater that phil got him many years ago. back before everything went down the gutter. he ran his thumb down the frayed material. by some miracle, it still fit him.

he looked at himself in his mirror, scowling when he saw who stared back. he looked nothing like how he usually did, and that slight bit of color changed him. the yellow fabric, even when old, still popped out more than his pale skin did.

still, something felt like it was missing. his glasses, maybe? he set the frames on his scrunched face, pushing it up his nose with the back of his hand. that didn't seem to work.

he looked over at his desk, his bottom lip plumped out as he thought. he gave a long stare to the flower crown, feeling his chest tighten and warm with a disgusting feeling. he picked up the flower crown- more delicately than he'd like to admit, and placed it on his tufts of brown as he stared at his reflection.

his mouth hung open. he looked completely different now. there were so many colors and shapes for him to process. and were the dark spots under his eyes really that prominent?

although, even with the wave of confusion, it felt almost comforting. he tried his best at a smile, but shook his head. too far.

wilbur shuffled through the underworld quickly, trying his best not to be seen- and especially not by quackity.

"tommy," quackity stage whispered, gaining the boy's attention. "what the hell's he doing?"

tommy took his place beside quackity, looking to where he was pointing. he scowled. "dude, i kid you not, he's got a fucking date."

quackity scoffed a laugh before looking at tommy. his face was still scrunched in disapproval, his wings idle behind him. quackity’s expression dropped. “wait- you’re serious? he’s actually got a date?”

“that’s what i’m thinking!” tommy’s voice screeched suddenly. he looked and sounded like a bird. “i’ve never seen him wearing something so.. colorful. and look at his fucking posture!”

they watched in amusement as wilbur jammed his finger on the elevator button, trying to get the doors open as he looked around frantically. he hadn’t even noticed, but his shoulders were in fact more pushed back.

he stared at his reflection in front of him, bringing a hand into his hair to even it out. flowers were still scattered around in his hair and it was as if he were producing a trail of petals behind him. he let out a groan as the doors finally parted, and he stepped in.

“who is it with?” quackity asked, holding his chin. his other hand was dug into his pocket. a small, rectangular figure lining the fabric. “do you know?”

tommy turned to quackity with a serious look on his face, as if he were speaking about a universe killing secret rather than who wilbur was eating ice cream with. “you didn’t hear it from me,” he emphasized his words, “but i keep overhearing this angel talking to phil about wilbur. its weird- especially when you think about how phil and wilbur think about each other.”

tommy grimaced at his own words. he could tell how much it cut the mood. it was practically taboo to say wilbur and phil’s name in the same sentence- let alone even mention phil in the underworld. even with tommy trying to get them to forgive each other, the thought of them ever eating at the same dinner table was unfathomable.

quackity interrupted the tension filled silence by asking the angel’s name. tommy gave it without a second thought, but eventually had to repeat it for quackity to properly hear. they were stood outside the pit of lost souls, a place that the forgotten demons would go. they served no purpose in hell as long as they were somehow remembered by someone on earth. it was always a loud area, having literal burning souls inside.

“huh..” quackity hummed, repeating the angel’s name again. “you think they’ll become a thing?”

“no, definitely not,” tommy huffed, laughing as if quackity was telling a knock-knock joke. “he’s too grumpy to actually function around another being.”

“i say give the guy some slack! he deserves at least a chance," quackity protested. "twenty bucks."

"you're betting on his love life?" tommy asked, but quackity stood still with a smirk on his face with his hand out. "fine. deal."

as they shook on their bet, tommy grumbled, his wings tensing up with him. a plan was forming itself in quackity’s mind, his hand patting the lining of his shorts.

“he’s probably up there making out with her right now.”

wilbur, in fact, was not. he was standing on the distant sidewalk, watching her from afar. she sat on the concrete with her legs crossed, looking like her mind was in another galaxy. wilbur on the other hand, stood with his clammy hands at his sides. his palms never sweat as badly as this, and it was making him unsettled. he tried his best to wipe his hands off on his sleeve, but it only made them damp and warm. he sucked in a breath, ignoring it and walking up towards her.

when he caught her eye, her never-ending smile only widened. she stood up to properly face him, looking at him from the top of his flower-ridden hair down to his shoes. “wilbur?”

“hi.. hi-” his voice cracked, and he tried to cover it up with a fake cough. now his throat wasn’t working. “um, i didn’t know.. i wasn’t sure if.. i-”

“you look really nice!” she interrupted, saving him the embarrassment. he let out a mix of a smile and a relieved sigh, muttering his thanks. “and it looks like you actually slept.”

“i did,” he mumbled, adjusting the collar of his bunchy sweater. suddenly, he could feel every texture touching his body. “eight hours.. just like you asked..”

“it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” she giggled, and the noise stabbed wilbur a thousand times in the stomach.

“actually, it was,” he bit the inside of his cheek, rocking back and forth on his heels with nervousness. “my bed is a literal stone. i wish it were made out of feathers.”

“maybe your dream will come true some time! come on, let’s make a wish,” she tilted her head, closing her eyes and putting her palms together. “i wish wilbur’s bed was made out of feathers!”

“..is that gonna work?” he tilted his head in her direction.

“hm.. i don’t know. but i always like to try it,” she hummed with satisfaction, putting her hands back at her sides. “can i tell you a secret? i’ve always wanted to visit the fountain of wishes.”

the name rung a bell all the way in the back of wilbur’s mind. he remembered his father telling him stories every night about the fountain of wishes. he scowled at the thought of hin. phil would tell wilbur that his only wish was to meet a beautiful woman, but look where that got him.

“what would you wish for?” he asked, trying to shift the gears of his mind.

“i don’t know,” she said, contently, leaning forward to grab his hand. “maybe i’ll think of something later.”

wilbur flinched, something she didn’t see because she was dragging him into the store. he wondered if she could feel how damp and warm his palms were, but it looked like she didn’t mind. for some reason, their hands seemed to magically fit together like puzzle pieces.

his mind was churning again, thinking about the unknown feeling running through him. he felt suddenly aware of everything around him, and it was awful. yet, she kept giggling and smiling like it was just another day. he envied her power of optimism, even if it was the same thing he disliked about her.

uncomfortably, his mind felt as if he was put in a room of a thousand people, contributing and understanding each one of their conversations. as overwhelming as it was, it was how his brain regularly worked. how he somehow managed to get even an ounce of sleep every night, he'll never know.

his thoughts were unraveling before he could roll them back up, feeling tired of aimlessly following the long film of this and that and-

"do you have a favorite flavor?"

it all snapped away.

"uh- um, well, um-"

how was she able to do that?

"oh, right," she giggled. somehow, in the thousand person room that took place in his mind, her small laugh was the only thing bouncing off his skull. "you've never had ice cream before."

unable to process the sudden quiet of his mind, he simply shook his head. "n-no, i haven't."

"try this!" she held out a scoop of her favorite flavor and wilbur stared at it like it was a cure to the common cold.

shakily, he took it. even if it only existed as a transparent-phantom thing, he was surprised that it didn't slip out of his sweaty hands.

"do.. do i bite-"

"just give it a small lick. i know it'll be cold, but it'll taste good," her words felt like a small promise to him, the most comforting thing he'd heard in a while. yet, it was like talking about the weather to her.

god, what was the feeling? he couldn't exactly pinpoint it at all.

he followed her directions, scrunching his brows in a slight concern as he stuck his tongue out. she was right, it was cold. terribly cold. he thought his tongue would get stuck to it like in the old christmas movies tommy forced him to watch.

and yet, it tasted terribly good. it was such an unfamiliar feeling on his tongue, but it somehow had a certain kick that he enjoyed.

he smacked his lips a couple times, and nodded slightly, mumbling his words. "y-yeah, i like that one."

"great!" she spoke, going over to grab the ice cream scooper. the real thing stood still on the table, but the translucent version was in her hands as she scooped up some of the flavor. as long as she put it back in the right place, nothing would be messed up too badly.

as she finished up scooping her cone, she sighed dramatically. "oh gods, i forgot to get cash."

"you don't need to give him cash, angel, he won't even notice."

his tongue went numb- not from the ice cream, but from the small nickname he'd given her.

it was a small gesture, and he could probably play it off, but it stirred his intestines until he felt like throwing them up. he'd never willingly give someone a nickname. ever.

and the worst part? she noticed.

"did you call me angel?" she stopped her fit of panic over invisible cash to look at him, the corner of her mouth lifting in an asymmetrical smile.

"well- yeah, because you're.. you're an angel," wilbur stumbled, unable to pull something out of thin air. he's lied many times. to his mom, to tommy, to quackity. but for some reason lying to her didn't feel right on his tongue. "a-and you.. have a halo.. and stuff.."

she noticed how he fiddled with his fingers, and decided to spare him of the embarrassment by switching the topic to her day. she seemed passionate with talking about every small thing she'd done, and wilbur admired her attitude.

wilbur prided himself in his writing. his pen and paper were like a magical escape from his burdens. he had a specific way with words that would always get him praised by his parents when he was younger. but despite that, he was completely lost on a word to describe his feelings.

she dragged him back outside without a care in the world, looking around like she owned the place. she pointed to a bench, talking about how it was her favorite bench (to which wilbur began to wonder how one could have a favorite bench), and began guiding them towards it.

in the midst of her excitement, however, she made a wrong step on the curb and yelped. wilbur noticed this quickly, bringing a quick hand to her waist to catch her.

"woah, are you alright-?" he brought her back up carefully, checking to make sure that her and her ice cream were still intact. he checked both off in his mind.

"yeah- yeah i'm fine-" she muttered, and it was the first time he'd ever seen a glint of gloominess on her face. "sorry- that was embarrassing-"

"no need to be embarrassed," wilbur's tone was calm. not a monotone calm, but an assuring calm. one that was stranger to her too.

his hand remained still on her waist, his fingers trembling in such small beats. “wilbur?” her gaze slowly met his, and she could see a small droplet of worry beneath the pools of his irises. “can i tell you something?”

he nodded slowly, eyebrows furrowing in such a concerned manner that it almost cut his forehead in half. with his hand still on her waist, he guided her carefully to the bench.

she looked at the pavement, her words coming out in a string of small mumbles that made him feel like they were the only two beings ever. just him, an angel, and a bench. “i don’t.. i don’t usually tell people this,” she fiddled with the hem of her dress, her wings draping over the back of the bench. “but.. the- the way i-i d..”

wilbur stared at the angel- the carefree, optimistic, happy angel; while she broke down bit by bit. he felt like he was almost breaking the law, that he wasn’t allowed to see such a sight. but most importantly, he felt like he needed to help.

he was always gentle, there was no denying it. he spent a lot of time as a child examining bugs (which he called “friends”) and making sure they were okay. and the urge to care for anything in need grew with him, even as everything else changed.

he noticed that his hand was still on her hip, and he drew her closer to his body. the small gesture made her startled, but she quickly grew accustomed to his touch. she felt safe, and wilbur knew that.

she took a deep breath, and spoke. “we were playing a game of hide-and-seek,” she whispered, “i-i was always clumsy, everyone made fun of me.. nobody..”

her words trailed off again, and wilbur felt his heart aching. “nobody..?”

“nobody really.. liked.. me,” she huffed, her face turning away from him. he could tell that she didn’t speak about this much. “everyone hated me, actually. like you do..”

his heart was wrapped in thorns.

it was the clearest thing she’d said. like she had so much time to think about it and deduct it. he wanted to say something, wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and scream at her. but he didn’t. he couldn’t- he felt paralyzed.

“i guess i tripped and fell or something, a-and i-” a bile swelled her throat. “it hurt. a lot. i was- i was screaming and crying for help b-but everyone ignored me. except for..”

her head lifted as she looked at him. it was the type of look in which he could study each pigment on her face, and he’d be able to use the rosiness of her cheeks to paint a breathtaking portrait.

“except for you.”

she smiled. and even through tears, her expression lit up the earth.

“me?” he whispered softly.

immediately, she nodded. she was so close to his face that she could see a tiny cut to the right of his adam’s apple. she suppressed a giggle as she thought about him struggling to shave, making all sorts of faces into his mirror.

“i was so scared and alone.. and then you came along with your big scythe and your scary hood. and you plunged your scythe into me chest- gods, i was so scared,” she giggled briefly at the thought, but her expression was genuine. “but you gave me peace.”

she leaned closer, wanting to wrap her arms around him and die a second time like that. but she knew he’d hate it.

“it was all i wanted in that moment.”

his eyes were droopy, staring from her left eye, to her right, and down at her parted lips. she was nothing short of beautiful. looking at her for that long felt like a mere privilege, forcing him to be speechless.. he squeezed her hip tighter just to hold her.

“i.. i wanted to thank you..” she whispered, so quiet that her vocal chords barely buzzed.

in his peripheral vision, he noticed how her eyelids fluttered softly. his sight blurred as she leaned in closer, and-

“but you always hated me.”

she leaned back in the seat, and wilbur’s disappointment split him in two. she was right there- right fucking there, but she was so out of reach. the only barrier? his own loathing. the irony of hating his hatred felt like a stab wound to his thorn-crowned heart.

and the worst part; she was unphased.

wilbur gulped as a stack of words piled themselves in his throat. that nasty, overwhelming feeling running through him again. “angel, i-”

“so, what’s your favorite color?” she asked in a light tone, licking at her ice cream.

a wave of dismay washed over his face. he couldn’t think. “t-teal?”

“really? i wouldn’t have guessed that,” she swung her legs beneath the bench, clearly unbothered by wilbur’s confusion. “you don’t really dress like a teal-lover. do you think the moon is real?"

what?

"no, bad question. hmm. what’s your favorite band?”

his heart fell into the pit of his stomach, thorns poking at his sides creating a terrible sting on his abdomen. he opened his mouth to speak- maybe cry and release his feelings; but nothing came up. not even an answer to her stupid question. it was nauseating.

she began talking about the sort of music she liked, but none of it struck his brain. he felt sick. he wanted to scream and sob and punch something. but he sat still like he was posing for a renaissance painting.

“hey, that reminds me,” she stood up abruptly, pointing her finger upwards, despite going unnoticed by wilbur. “i gotta get cash for the ice cream man! i’ll be right back.”

he didn’t even realize she spoke, even when she was repeating his name and trying to get his attention.

why was he disappointed at the lost opportunity? why did he want to curl up in a ball and tug his hair out? what was that stupid feeling that was haunting him all afternoon? it was tearing him apart limb by limb. what was the word, what was-

oh.

oh.

it was love. he loved her. it was as simple as a four letter word.

the last time he told someone he loved them, he was begging his father not to leave. as he watched the man- the god- his father walk away, he realized that the word meant nothing. it only brought him pain; and if he didn't love, he didn't have to feel that agony.

his stomach turned, breathing becoming alarmingly shallow. too many memories flushed his mind, and his throat tightened.

"hello? wilbur?"

"don't come back." he stood up suddenly, ice cream falling to the ground next to him.

"what?" she flinched, staring up at him with terror on her face that he didn't even read. he was so blinded by his anger. the light of her halo flickered.

"i said, don't come back." it was almost a subconscious thing, how he lifted his hand into his hair and threw the flower crown onto the sidewalk. right next to his ice cream.

his throat burned harshly. all of his muscles tensed up in such a way that definitely wasn't healthy. he could barely even hear his own words through the pounding in his ears, and he most importantly couldn't hear her heart ripping in two.

"wilbur-"

"stop. stop this. stop following me everywhere, stop- stop acting like you care-" his hands balled up into fists at his sides, "stop everything! i never want to see you again!"

and that was all that was needed for her to turn around and fly off, and that was all that he needed for him to realize what a complete moron he was.

his walk home was nothing short of shameful. and this time he walked through hell with messy flower petals in his hair and a stupid yellow sweater and dumb tears in his eyes.

he didn't realize that quackity, a man who was about to lose twenty dollars, was watching him from afar. he cursed under his breath, biting his bottom lip until his hand brushed against his pocket.

tommy's keycard.

-

he looked at himself in the reflection of a lava pool, making all sorts of scrunchy and over dramatic faces. he experimented with the way the hood fell over his hair and how it made his furrowed eyebrows look.

he made his way to the elevator, admiring how the scythe looked when he tossed it around in his hands. and when it asked for a confirmation of identity, he pulled out the keycard, swiping it before anyone could see.

he'd continue to try to do tricks with the scythe until he got to the top, waving a hand to the guard until he realized he had to stay in character. his lips suddenly pursed and his eyes became hooded.

to his delight, an angel was there waiting for him.

"wilbur-" she stood up suddenly, her hands shaking at her sides. the light in her tear filled eyes was nearly gone, the glow of her halo barely there. "i wanted to a-apologize-"

"come with me," he spoke, as monotone as he could. his hand reached out towards her, and she hesitantly took it.

with uncertainty written all over her face, she spoke nervously. "where.. where are we going-?"

"i want to make up for what.. happened.. last night.." he muttered, dragging her underground.

she held her flickering halo carefully as they zoomed to the elevator, watching him jam the buttons with his finger. she'd never seen someone so eager.

as soon as the doors parted, he forced her inside with such an anticipation she couldn't pinpoint. it made her feel uneasy, how weird he had been acting.

"wilbur?" her voice came out as more of a squeak, taking his other hand in hers. she looked right at him with swelled eyelids. "this.. this isn't a trick, is it?"

his eyes widened, eyebrows unknotting a crease on his forehead. "what?" he practically laughed, "why- why would it be a trick?"

"i don't know.. you just seem.." her voice wavered, eye contact faltering. "nevermind, it's stupid."

"look at me, love," the nickname was.. new. "i don't want to hurt you. i'm gonna make everything up, okay?"

she hummed an agreement, eyes fluttering to make contact with his. his face was soft, just like the other night. but something seemed missing.

"i wanna show you everything about my home," the excitement in his voice was almost raw. "i live in a palace, did you know that?"

"i didn't," she smiled, a forced one. "are you gonna show me around?"

at that, the elevator's doors opened, and she was hit with a sudden wave of heat that nearly made her fall over.

and he almost didn't catch her.

tears started to swell up her eyes as she clung onto his arm, nails digging into broken fabric. soft yelps came out of her mouth.

"love, are you alright?" he spoke worriedly, and the amount of emotion in his voice made her even more lightheaded.

"i-i am-" she whispered, getting back onto her feet. "its just- y'know- what.. what i told you last night..?"

he nodded his head, a soft "oh" coming out of his mouth. but it didn't seem like an ounce of actual empathy lied behind his eyes. a tint of red glazed it instead. she felt odd.

did he not remember? or did he choose not to?

when she was able to walk properly, he led her around. if it wasn't for the burning pit in her stomach, she'd be extremely excited. but she had a feeling that something deeper was lying under the lava pools.

"this is the palace," he sighed, gesturing to the building. "isn't it cool?"

"it is.." she muttered. this awe, she could not fake. the large, intricate structures of gold and red and the occasional fire bounced off her glassy eyes. "can we go inside? maybe you can show me your room-"

"i.." he stiffened up suddenly. "i don't think that's a good idea."

"oh.." she muttered, trying to read his firm facial expression. but she couldn't.

a thick silence fell upon them. the only noticeable thing was how her halo flicked on and off with inconsistent beats.

"hey, i have to.. do something.. how about you stay here until i'm finished, okay? maybe you can talk to my mom or.. or talk to the hellhounds," his voice was unconvincing, but she still nodded, even as disappointed as she was.

and she watched him walk away, turning the corner away from her. she couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of disgust rummaging through her. the constant stares of demons around her didn't make anything better.

her feelings were mixed. maybe he's having a good day or- or maybe he's really considering peace between them.

but what if it really was a trick?

her soft facial expressions fell into her lap, weighing her options. she always sought to find the good in people, always trying and trying to think positive. but even after she revealed everything- everything she couldn't admit out loud, he turned her away. and there was no right explanation for that, no matter how beautiful his palace was.

she straightened up, fists clenched at her sides. she wasn't going to take it. after going through so much of his hatred for so long, she didn't like him practically making fun of her death. she hated it.

she was going to look for him and tell him all of her raw feelings.

as he rounded the corner, his back hit the wall and his knees failed. his breathing was labored as he ran a blackened hand through his changing hair. he could feel the skin literally crawl off of him, and he was delighted to have his normal look back.

quackity sighed against the wall, catching up to his quickened breath. "now all he has to do is find her. and they're forced to make up. and i win my twenty bucks," he muttered under his lips. "god, quackity, you genius."

his laughs felt amazing to churn out. pretending to be wilbur was exhausting him to the core, but it was worth each and every penny of the twenty dollars he'd be receiving soon.

but, through all of his buzzing victory, he didn't notice an angry little angel looking for a certain grim reaper. he didn't notice her stomping around with her fists clenched at her sides.

and he definitely didn't notice her tripping and falling into the pit of lost souls.

-

wilbur's day went on horribly.

he didn't get any sleep. not that this was any different from usual; but this time his night was spent tossing and turning in his stone bed trying to think of how he was going to talk to her.

his bones ached when he got up, and no amount of stretches could heal the knot in his neck.

work was even worse. especially considering the fact that everytime he heard some sort of high pitched noise, he'd think it was a little angel fluttering her wings at him, and then he'd be able say the speech he had written up in his mind.

he was regretting his word choice of "i never want to see you again" on top of his regret for the rest of his blown out word vomit.

but as he walked from the elevator to his palace, he couldn't help but hear a sort of cry for help. and it sounded oddly similar to the angel's.

"wilbur? w-wilbur.. i know- i know you hate me but this- this hurts -"

was it?

"its not fffunny anymore- i know you got your kick out of tricking- me- but this is- ow!"

it couldn't be.

"i won't bother you again! i promise! just please- let- let me out of here- help me.. please..? it's- it's -"

he'd been hearing her voice in his head all day in somewhat intervals. but this felt more real, more raw.

he stumbled on his feet. he knew where it was coming from. he heard noises of desperate cries from it everyday, but the thought that this might be real? it scared him to his core.

worry rushed over him quicker than second thought, and he rushed over to the pit of lost souls in a panic. hoarse, raspy screams of "angel!" flew out of his throat as he scrambled to climb the volcano-like structure.

-

she still had a lot of questions for wilbur.

not the type of, "what's your favorite color?" or "what's your favorite band?" questions. more like, "wilbur? hello? please help- this hurts- are you still there?"

and she was starting to lose hope in the fact that those questions might be answered.

one things for sure; her curiosity will be the death of her.

unless he's got the courage to do something about it.

11.4k || 8.12.23 || masterlist here!

taglist (dm or send an ask to be added!) — @sixofshadowandbone @theoneandonlyyeti @harbingerofheartbreak @starsyoubreaklikesugardust @mcr-pr-fob @sapphic-soot @flynn-thebin @puppyburbites @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @merakiaes @aimi-chann @axthrial @lololol00 @deadphantomsociety @hometown-smile @qweengigi @kisstheskin

in case you did not read the beginning (its a long wall of text i understand 🙂‍↕️), i do not write for wilbur soot anymore and do not condone or support any of his actions. therefore, part two will not be coming :(

[muffinbeliever]

Green with Envy

The reader is flirting with a guy for a case, and her boyfriend Dean is not happy about it.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1732

Warnings: SMUT !!!! obv lol, thigh riding, choking, use of sir, degrading, hmmmmm that might be it lol

A/N: hello hello hello my lovelies its kinktober y'all know what that means *wink wonk* please enjoy this little smutty one shot with our favorite daddy dean (except in this he isn't daddy he's sir) this was written for @candy-coated-misery0731 per request

Masterlist 

Dean was pissed. He was beyond pissed. 

He was absolutely furious. 

You could feel his piercing eyes glaring at the back of your head. Twirling your hair in your fingers, you nodded along to whatever the guy in front of you was saying, throwing in a flirtatious giggle every now and then just to add to your performance. Internally, you huffed at your boyfriend’s obvious annoyance. 

It wasn’t like you wanted to talk to this guy— he was over-confident and loud— you just had to distract him long enough for Sam and Dean to grill his friend about the recent deaths in town. But seeing how Dean was standing in the corner, gritting his teeth, you assumed the brothers determined only one of them would be needed for the job.

The man across from you (you couldn’t recall his name… was it Jackson? Jasper? Whatever.) placed his hand on your arm, and you realized you had zoned out. 

“Did you hear what I said?” He asked. His breath reeked of alcohol, and you wanted to cringe away from his touch, but you had a job to do. You swallowed your disgust and flashed him a sultry smile.

“Sorry, I was focused on your arms. Do you work out?” You feigned interest as you placed your hand on his bicep, and he smirked while flexing. 

“Yeah, I lift,” he said, smugly. He glanced at your empty glass sitting on the bar and frowned. “Another round?”

You shook your head. 

“No thanks, I have work in the morning,” you said, politely hinting that you wouldn’t be spending the night with him like he had hoped. 

“Oh come on! Just one more drink wouldn’t hurt,” he encouraged, and with a sigh you caved, figuring that if you’re going to be stuck with him for God-knows-how-much longer, at least you’d get a free drink out of it. 

“Alright, sure,” you agreed, resigned to your duty of the night. 

As he hailed down the bartender, your eyes swept through the room, finding your boyfriend still brooding in the same corner. His eyebrows were tightly knit and his lips were slightly pursed. His arms were crossed over his chest; his arm muscles bulging in his black t-shirt without even trying. His dark green eyes met yours from across the bar, and you flashed him a smile. He raised a single eyebrow in return. 

You knew that look. 

You were fucked.

The bartender slid you a glass filled with amber liquid, presumably whiskey, but you weren’t sure. You thanked him and threw it back, knowing you’ll need it later when your jealous boyfriend decided to confront you. 

The man across from you laughed and saluted you with a cheers before throwing his glass back as well. Suddenly, he was a lot closer than before, and you stood in shock as he reached out his hand, placing it on your cheek, and wiped at your bottom lip. You jerked from his touch, not at all pleased with his straightforward style. 

“You had some whiskey on your lip,” he explained before he leaned in closer. “Would you have preferred I kiss it away, instead?” 

Before you could say anything, you felt a firm hand clasp your shoulder and you were pulled away from the man in front of you and straight in to the familiar broad chest of your boyfriend. 

“H-hey!” The man sputtered, confused as to what had just happened. 

Dean ignored him and held your hand tightly in his. 

“Y/N, we’re leaving,” he said quietly but firmly in your ear. His low voice was laced with anger and jealousy, and you hated to admit that it turned you on. Whether it was the liquor you practically inhaled or the dark promise of what was to come, you fluttered your eyelashes at him.

“But I was having fun,” you said with a pout. “And Sam isn’t even done!” 

His eyes hardened even more at your disobedience, and he spun you towards the door. 

“Let’s go. Now.” 

With a dramatic sigh, you waved at What’s-His-Face, and he waved back, perplexed. You led the way out of the bar, Dean’s steady hand against your lower back. 

The cool breeze hit you like a breath of fresh air, but you had no time to appreciate it, as Dean was already opening the passenger door to Baby, and you got in without argument. Without a word, he started the car and backed out of the driveway. His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, not quite speeding back to the motel, but definitely making a hasty exit. 

“What about Sam?” You asked, sighing when your boyfriend clenched his jaw and kept his eyes on the road, ignoring your question. “Dean, look I—”

“Be quiet.” 

His words were soft but demanding, and you couldn’t help the rush of excitement that swept through your body. You did as you were told and crossed your legs to provide some friction to your heated core. The last time Dean was this upset, he had spanked you so hard that you had bruises on your ass for a week. You watched as the night scenery flashed by, hyperaware of the rumbling vibrations of Baby’s engine that seemed to send sparks through you with every bump in the road.

He sharply pulled the car into the parking lot and you were quick to unbuckle your seatbelt. Dean, on the other hand, took his time, making you impatient for what was to come, but you knew better than to complain, so you kept your mouth shut and waited for him to guide you. 

He got out of the car first, before making his way to your side where he stiffly opened the door. Ever the gentleman, he offered you his hand, and you took it, climbing out of the car. 

It was silent as you entered your room, and you were thankful for Dean’s foresight of getting a separate room from Sam this time. You placed your bag on the bed, and Dean took a seat on the armchair facing you. His legs were spread and he looked leisurely, like a king, but you were not fooled. There was anger brewing in his eyes. 

“Strip.” 

This time, you knew better than to argue. You started with your top, crossing your arms over your body before slowly pulling it off. Your breasts bouncing as they were released. You unbuttoned your jeans before shimmying them down your legs. You hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your thong, and slowly pulled it down, turning around and bending over as you did.

Before long, you were fully naked, and Dean drank your body in with hungry eyes. He shifted in the chair, and you noticed his pants were tented where he had grown hard watching you strip. Without another word, he spread his legs even more and patted his leg. Understanding his request, you sat on him, your legs on either side as you straddled his thigh. 

His leg was thick and hard under you, and you couldn’t help but press down further, creating friction between your clit and his jeans. His arm shot out and his hands wrapped around your throat, restricting you from grinding against him anymore. 

“Did I say you could move?” His voice was low. Menacing. 

“No,” you whimpered quietly, shaking your head. He tilted his head and tightened his grip around your throat.

“No, what?” 

“No, sir,” you choked out. His tight hold relaxed slightly, and you inhaled deeply. 

“I’m not happy with you, Y/N,” he stated simply. 

“I know.” Your voice was shaky, partly from his grip and partly from your bubbling excitement. 

“You know, do you? And what exactly do you know?” 

“I shouldn’t have been teasing you like that, sir. I’m sorry.” 

He chuckled darkly, and his other hand came to rest on your waist, shuffling you around, knowing it only made you more desperate. 

“Teasing me? You think this is about you teasing me?” 

You nodded quickly, causing him to chuckle more. 

“This is about you parading yourself around the bar. Acting like a slut,” he hissed, pulling you closer towards him to whisper in your ear.

“Like you aren’t mine.”

You could feel yourself getting wetter with every word, whimpering from his intoxicating smell and touch that surrounded you. 

“Tell me, Y/N, did you like when he touched your arm? And when he touched your lips that are only meant to be wrapped around my cock?” His thumb traced your bottom lip with a soft reverence that contrasted with his anger and rage. His hand tightened around your throat once again.

“Answer me.” 

Immediately, you shook your head. You hadn’t enjoyed it. Not one bit. 

“No, sir.” 

He slowly began to rock your hips against his thigh, pulling you flush against the denim so you could feel the rough fabric. 

“No? And why should I believe a whore like you?” He muttered into your hair as you ground your hips against him faster, whining and closing your eyes as you felt sparks in your toes moving up towards your core. Suddenly, you were stilled, and your eyes shot open. 

“I asked you a question. You seem to be having trouble answering those tonight.” 

Still dazed, you shook your head. “Yours. I’m only yours, sir. No one else’s.”

“Only mine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Prove it.” 

And with that, he sat you back down on his thigh. His large hand that was still wrapped around your throat tightened again, and you moaned as you rode him. Your hands gripped the arm of the chair and his thigh, steading yourself. You ground your hips against him and the room filled with your moans and whimpers. 

“That’s a good girl. Wanting to prove to me that you’re my whore, and my whore only.” 

You gasped when a sharp smack was delivered to your ass, speeding up your pace as waves of pleasure rolled through you, faster and faster, until you reached your peak, your body shuddering against his as you came with a wail. 

Spent, you slumped against his clothed form, a slight sheen of sweat covering your body. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and you mumbled nonsense tiredly into the cotton of his shirt. He chuckled at your tiredness.

“You’re not getting out of this so easily, sweetheart. We’re not finished yet.”

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine @bluedragonflylady @cevans-winchester @bakugouswh0r3 @muhahaha303 @allaroundjejje

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

hmm vaggie name origin idea (au?) with twist of chaggie

where she (as per Adam later) was always in the front of the Exorcist charge, specifically always volunteering for Advance Guard duty (vanguard)

which no one else wanted bc (in this au) it meant being first out of the portal sure- but also having to check the area and secure it (in case any powerful overlord or such got an idea to try anything with an open portal to HEAVEN) and then it meant STAYING PUT until all the other Exorcists were out (the 'guard' part) when the portal could be shut until return time

(PAUSE.... can u imagine, if Sera wanted to wash her hands of the exorcists after the truth about them came out, her sending them and lute on one last extermination mission... and then just... not giving them a way to come back?)

(where was i)

NO WAIT RIGHT so vaggie (currently unnamed exorcist number whatever) she likes things neat, tidy, things done Right, and when other exorcists get pressed into vanguard duty they are LAX AS FUCK ABOUT IT and vaggie can't STAND THAT

Sooooo she ends up volunteering to be the vanguard every time- (to the point that she answers to the title even outside of training or extermination day)

which her sisters think is great for the rest of them buuuuut maybe a sign she's avoiding fighting, looking for an excuse to be late to the extermination, an excuse for lower numbers of kills, maybe a clue she's too weak stomached to stand being in hell

(reason THEY all hate van duty) (NONE of them want to look like they're avoiding aNYTHING)

(vanguard... first.... one.... wings?)

(maybe in this au, the one stripe on her wings is the vanguard's mark)

so they tease her for that- use the word for her all the time now, "hey vanguard!" shouted casually during breaks- shorten it to "Vag" (while laughing)

until vaggie (still technically unnamed exorcist number whatever) answers by settling into training with her sisters and being Efficient As Fuck with her kills once she follows them down to the city- no waste. No second hits. No time spent gloating or tormenting- One strike, one dead sinner. Over and over and over again

she starts coming back with record bodycounts while STILL volenteering to babysit the portal, and now vanguard isn't a shit role and sign of cowardice, it's a flex

(or that's how her sisters see it anyway)

a way of saying "i can kill more in less time that you can, even when you get a head start" and at THAT point they're laughing WITH her ABOUT her body count,

now it's "Vaggie" bc its a nickname, only to her it's also just her NAME and her sisters are proud of her for it-

so naturally they point her out to Adam. hype her up, show her off- look at this-! the new girl is one of the best we've ever had- and he's stoked at her numbers

(Lute, expressionless, less stoked seeing another exorcist getting so much attention and getting so close to- or beating- her own records- Lute the reason Adam didn't hear about this before, devoted to her role as Adam's second in command and watching with sharp eyes as someone else gets singled out and praised instead-)

Adam, wondering out loud what Vaggie's name is as he looks her over.

Vaggie going to answer "Sir, my name is-" getting casually cut off "Ah-bup-bup! I'm thinking of one, chill for a sec."

bc of course Adam loves leaving his mark on stuff

and she's one of HIS girls after all

she stands at attention while he gives her a new name "VAGINA! After the BEST THING EVER since that's what you are, huh girl? Best sinner slayer we've EVER had, WOOO!" (Lute, not joining in the woo-hoos) and Vaggie's sisters cheer and shove her, grinning,

only they stop calling her "Vaggie" except on extermination day-

but to herself, Vagina isn't her name.

It's just a stamp of approval from her commanding officers. Inside, she never stops being Vaggie. The Vanguard. First one out the gate, keeping an eye on things, making sure it goes smoothly for her sisters

(the mixed feelings of feeling the most like herself on extermination day, finally getting to hear her name again- and the frustration of watching her sisters treat their duty like some game)

(but they taught her and trained with her and cheered for her, and so she'll finish off the sinners they maim and if her mask feels suffocating sometimes and never grins the way her sisters' do as they cull the sinful hoards of hell, well, she'll just take it off and take a breath and get back to killing, she'll remember how they also smile and salute while flying past her on the way home afterwards- proud of her, proud of her)

Vaggie is the exorcist who made THEM, not Adam, proud

(up until she isn't one of them anymore) (but she was once)

she was and always will HAVE been that, the women who wanted to make sure her sisters and heaven were both safe well guarded from harm-

that's the same woman who couldn't kill a child

and who fell in love with demon with a heart kinder than any angel's

it's Vaggie that Charlie meets, not any girl of Adam's.

maybe also it's Charlie who someday hears, in quiet voice years later, in a rebuilt hotel watching cannibals clean up the last of their dead exorcist meals-

maybe she hears Vaggie whisper how she never let herself hope but still also always stupidly wished, deep down, that she could be the vanguard to her former sisters again-

the first one of them to turn on heaven, the one to clear the way and get things ready so the rest could someday follow...

....and maybe Charlie hugs her, hearing this, as they watch the blood of Vaggie's dead sisters getting dabbed delicately away like golden pasta sauce as the cannibals finish dinner-

maybe Charlie hugs her harder and closer knowing what it's like to still care about people who aren't good... and then to have have your heart ripped out watching them die, on heaven's command, nothing you can do to stop it, them just gone forever right before your eyes-

before you ever got your chance to help them. to save them

(Charlie would promise that they'll try anyway)

(and sure "those angels minds are hard to change", she knows how true that is now.... but....as far as she's concerned....)

(Vaggie being there with her is more than enough hope for anyone)

[vidals-harkness]

i got you (alice wu-gulliver)

summary: you get your period, and your girlfriend helps you out.

fic type: fluff

pairings: alice wu-gulliver x fem!reader

warnings: period cramps, blood, nausea

word count: 0.5k

As per usual, you and Alice had gone to your separate workplaces. Her going to her little goth house, and you to the library. A small job, really, but the backbreaking work paid off.

However, today wasn’t the best day to go to work. Because right when you got there, you felt it.

The stabbing pain that came in your abdomen making you wish you were dead or maybe a man. Cramps. Blood. Inner garments soaked.

“Well isn’t this lovely,” you sighed, grabbing a tampon and fixing yourself in the bathroom.

You didn’t want to take a pain med. That would be admitting defeat and displaying weakness. You could handle it.

Until you couldn’t.

Alice had just gotten on break when your call came in.

“Baby…” you whined into the phone, making her eyes widen a bit. She knew that tone.

“Give me ten minutes,” she said, dashing to the cupcake store in the mall, picking up your favourite red velvet ones, along with a sugary peach iced tea, before heading to her car. She immediately gunned it, driving as fast as she could to the public library.

She showed up to see you slumped over one of the desks, near tears and probably in so much pain that it could kill a man. Which it would, in her opinion.

“I’ve got you,” she said softly, rubbing your back. “Come on, sweetheart I’ll take you to the car,”

You allowed yourself to be led to the car, and sat in the passenger seat, whining like a child.

“Darling can we—“ before you could ask, she placed the goodies in your lap, making you smile at the sight. “You’re a saint,”

“Hardly,” she chuckled, backing out of the parking lot. “Snack on those till we get home okay?”

The cupcakes were heaven, your cramps feeling a little less deathly and the iced tea relaxed the rising heat you were feeling in your already bloated stomach.

The house was thankfully clean, Alice having suspected your period was close (she had a secret calendar on her wall and phone keeping track) and kept any form of anxious thoughts of cleaning by away.

“Lie down, I’ll grab the heating pad,” she said, kissing your forehead before pushing the door open to the bedroom.

You lay on your stomach with a dramatic (but appropriately anguished) groan, waiting for her to return.

She worked like clockwork, well aware of the sheer danger of your mood swings if things were even a second late. She pulled out the chocolate from the fridge, grabbed the heating pad and went to the room, handing both things over to you.

“And I’ve kept some painkillers on the bedside table even though you won’t take them you stubborn bitch,” she sighed, sliding into bed behind you, sitting up with her back against the headboard, pulling you into her arms. You lay between her legs, munching on chocolate happily, while she played the first episode of Friends on the TV.

You felt her massaging your head gently, her fingertips working wonders on your aching temple, before she moved her hands into your hair, massaging your scalp as her short nails ran over it.

“I hate that you’re skipping work though, I don’t want your boss—“ you began, but she silenced you with an upside-down kiss.

“My boss is a cishet man and he doesn’t understand how periods work, or how girlfriend duties work, he’ll live,” she smiled, caressing your skin gently.

“What would I do without you?” You asked, laughing softly.

“You’d be perfectly fine, you’re an independent little lady,” she nodded. “But, you deserve the princess treatment, my love,”

Your body swelled with adoration for her, loving every single moment she spent with you, getting lost in her touch and feel.

Alice knew that she would burn the world for you without a second thought, and just seeing you so perfectly happy and content reinforced that thought beyond belief.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Alice,” you smiled, cuddling into her, eyes growing heavy.

And so you both dozed off together, letting just the quiet sounds of the television fill the room.

hi hi my bao buns! second imagine of the day, starring alice! do request more and i’m working on the rest currently!

[augustvandyne]

Five times you and Addison Montgomery almost kiss, and the one time you do, please?

i love addie so much she’s so cute! also, i wasn’t sure if you preferred this to take place during greys or private practice, so i went with greys!

tw: mentions of vomiting

a story for the grandkids

1.

It was in the crossing of early morning, late night.

You’d been at the hospital for over forty-eight hours. And only about ten of that had been small naps.

Being on Addison’s service was kicking your ass, but you wanted to be an OBGYN with your whole heart and soul, and you would give up anything for that. Even a little sleep.

You were currently watching over a baby whose mother had just left her.

This world was messed up, and you hated people for it. Sometimes you thought you were too empathetic for this world, but that’s what made you a great doctor.

Or at least that’s what Addison told you.

You’re drifting to sleep as you feel a tug on your pointer finger. You spent most of the night just watching the tiny humans chest thump with heartbeats.

But now you were getting restless, and there hadn’t been any response from the baby at all until now.

You sat up excitedly at the small on and off pressure being added to your finger.

“Hi, sweet girl,” You run your thumb over her small knuckles. “That’s it. You’re so strong.”

Your eyes are sparkling and your lips are wide with a large smile plastering your face.

Addison watches the interaction from across the NICU, and she thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever witnessed. She’s worked with a lot of aspiring interns interested in neonatal work, but she’s never met someone like you.

“Everything okay?” Addison is watching you more than the baby.

“Yes!” You are bouncing in your seat. “She— she’s responsive. I’ll admit, I was falling asleep for a second— but I felt a tug on my finger, and— she’s so strong, Dr. Montgomery.”

“Please, call me Addison,” She smiles at you, grabbing a pen from her lab coat to mark the newfound information on the chart. “And thank you for being honest with me. This is amazing news.”

“If I have to call you Addison, you should call me Y/n,” You try to convince her.

Addison chuckles, “We’ll see.”

You lower your head so your level with the incubator, your eyes closing slightly.

Addison looks up from the chart, her lips tilting up from hearing your small snores.

“Dr. Y/l/n,” Addison clears her throat, and you jump awake.

“Huh?” You rub your eyes, letting go of the babies hand for the first time in hours.

“You should go home. Get some sleep,” Addison nods.

“But— I still have a few more hours—“

“I’m telling you to go home,” Addison places her pen back in the pocket she retrieved it. “You came in early yesterday, therefore, I’m cutting you off for today.”

“Okay,” You chuckle. You stand and come closer to her, moving to stand between the incubator and her. “I’ll see you..”

“Whenever I please,” Addison gives you a breathtaking smile, only now realizing the two of you are very close.

She thinks about it for a split second, her eyes closing in on your lips. But she clenches her jaw and takes a tiny step back.

She’s grateful you’re too tired to remember this tomorrow.

“Go on, Dr. Y/l/n,” Addison nods towards the door to the NICU.

2.

You huff for what had to be the hundredth time in the past hour.

There was nothing you hated more than plastics. It wasn’t the treatments, per se.. actually, that was part of it. You hated seeing them in pain as you dressed their burns and their cries.

But you also hated Mark Sloan. You could feel his stares on you as you worked on what he’d asked. He treated you like an object, and you were over it.

You also hated him because of the way he treated Addison.

Yes, you know, she was definitely in the wrong, but she’s apologized and everyone is over it. At least everyone except Mark.

“Y/l/n. If you huff one more time you’ll be on dry cleaner and coffee duty,” Mark threatens.

Although it wasn’t really a threat to you. It was better than wondering when he was going to pounce on you.

“It’s better than being here,” You mumble, finishing a dressing on a mans hand. He was a champ.

“What? Wanna share with the class?”

“I said it’s better than being here,” You finally snapped. “I will happily get your coffee and dry cleaning.”

“Perfect,” Mark flashed you a smile without even telling you where to go and what to get. You’d just ask Alex.

You somehow managed to stumble into the NICU, in search for Alex, but you didn’t find him.

You only found Addison.

“Oh, thank god. Someone sane,” Addison comes towards you and puts her hands on your shoulders.

“I don’t know about that,” You laugh. “But I do know I might kill Mark Sloan tonight.”

“Ugh, you got Mark? Out of everyone?” Addison grimaces. “I’m sorry. I’ll help you plan.”

“Amazing,” You smiled blissfully— just being in the NICU and near Addison is what you needed to calm yourself.

You lean your forehead on Addison’s shoulder, and you feel Addison’s hand make its way to the back of your head.

When you lift your head, your mouth is awfully to the side of Addison’s face.

She locks eyes with you but moves her head to the side, away from your face. She notices Alex towards the back of the room, flirting with a nurse.

“Karev, show Y/l/n where Dr. Sloan gets his coffee and his dry cleaning.”

3.

Nothing could have prepared you for what went wrong on that table today.

You knew this was a possibility going into neonatal, and fetal, but even that couldn’t have prepared you for the first death of a mother.

You didn’t even know what went wrong, really.

The mother was fine— you were delivering her baby by C-section and then all of the sudden she started crashing.

Addison had to lead you to the side before she tried to save the patient. You just stood there. Painless, numb, frozen.

It was like you couldn’t breathe.

And when Addison called time of death you all but ran out of the operating room and towards an on-call room.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your scrub cap in your hands as you leaned your head back in hopes to get the tears to go away.

“Y/l/n,” Addison crouches down in front of you, her hand finding a comforting spot on your knee.

You try to ignore the burning sensation of her hand through your scrubs.

“I don’t—“ Your voice cracks and you move your hands to your face, crying into the scrub cap.

“Shh,” Addison shushes you, running another comforting hand up and down the side of your thigh. “We had no idea that was going to happen. It’s not your fault.”

“But her poor husband,” Your words are muffled through the cap. “And the baby..”

“I know,” Addison removes her hand from the side of your leg and moves your hand from your face. “It’s okay.”

Addison lifts herself from the floor and to the bed beside you.

She looks at you with sympathy, because she remembers the first mother she lost. It tore her apart just as it was doing to you.

“It will get better,” Addison promises.

“It’s not fair,” You blow out a breath. “She was fine.”

“Stop. You’re getting yourself worked up,” Addison frowns, pulling you into her side.

You melt into her side, your left leg moving on top of her own. You vigorously wipe at your tears, but they just keep coming.

You sob into her shoulder for a few minutes, soaking her dark blue scrubs to a darker blue.

Addison lifts your head to see your face.

It’s mostly dark in the room, only a small lamp sat on the desk in the back corner. You could barely see her face, but she could see yours perfectly.

She wipes the tears from your face and pushes the damp hair away that sticks onto your face.

Your eyelashes stick together as you look down at her lips slightly, and back up towards her eyes.

“You okay?” Addison’s eyes make their way down to your lips.

She leans forward, and she almost thinks she’s going to, but she pulls you in for a hug.

“Yeah,” You sigh.

4.

“It’d be nice if I could breathe right now,” You joked, although it wasn’t really a joke. It felt like the air had been swept from your lungs.

How did you get stuck with your hand on the bomb?, was a very good question.

One you definitely didn’t have the answer to.

All you knew was the second the paramedics hand was out of there, yours was right inside the body.

Your hand was growing tired, but you really didn’t want to die today. You haven’t even really fell in love yet, not really, and that’s something you’d like to experience before dying.

The next few minutes fly by in a blur. Meredith and Cristina come up with a plan to safely take care of the bomb, and the next second your out the door. Praying to any Gods above that you make it out of this alive.

“Breathe, Y/n,” Meredith reminds you.

“I can’t,” You let out a shaky gust of air. “I really c— can’t.”

“Come on, now is not the time to have an asthma attack,” Cristina curses. “I don’t have her extra inhaler, do you?”

“No.. she gave it to..”

“Addison,” The two say together.

“Crap,” You gasp for air.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Burke looks between the two - Meredith and Cristina - as a sheen of sweet forms on his forehead. “One of you are going to have to take over for her and the other needs to take her to Dr. Montgomery now. Before things get out of hand and we all die.”

“You’re right,” Meredith nods. “Okay, I’ve got it. A count of three, Y/n, got it?”

“Yes,” You’re trying to inhale anything at this point, but you can’t seem to grab anything.

You successfully make the trade off with Meredith, and your anxiety skyrockets as you are forced to leave her behind.

“Y/n—“

“I know,” You share a silent understanding with your best friend.

Tell him.

I know.

“Come on, let’s go,” Cristina tugs on your arm and takes you right towards the redhead.

“Oh, y/n,” Addison dives right into your arms, unaware of the fact that you can’t breathe at all. “Thank god you’re alright. You are okay, right? I don’t see any bruises.”

“Dr. Montgomery,” Cristina breaks the moment. “You have her inhaler?”

“Oh!” Addison sees the paleness in your face and begins reaching for your inhaler, finding it in her back pocket. “Here.”

Addison doesn’t care about the blood coating your hand as she holds your hand to help you with your inhaler.

Addison leans her face forward to make sure you’re doing it right, and when you remove your hand her lips are awfully close to your face.

You take a sharp inhale of breath you didn’t have a second ago, and you actually think she’s gonna go through with it for a second.

But you had an audience, and she didn’t want your first kiss to be in front of her ex-husband and your subordinates.

“You’re okay?” Addison checks over you.

“You called me by my name,” Is the first thing you say when you’re fully back.

Addison laughs, “I did.”

5.

You giggle to yourself as you sit at the bar in Joes.

You were all supposed to originally go there so you could drink and do trauma dumps for the week, but everyone got called in for their respective specialties, except you.

A familiar fragrance hits your nose, and you rest back, almost falling out of the stool at the bar.

“Woah there,” Addison catches you quickly before you fall.

“Addie,” You sigh in content, laying your arm across the table, your head resting in the crook of your arm.

“Hm?” Addison presses her lips together. “Meredith told me I might find you here.”

“She did?” You ask with a little too much excitement.

“Yeah,” Addison laughs at you. “What happened? Are you upset? Is that why you’re like this?”

“Nooooo,” You poke her on the nose.

You begin to stand, putting your coat on due to the frigid weather.

“Where are you off to?” Addison stands quickly, following you right out the door.

“The hospital!” You gasp. “To save more babies. I like babies. I want babies. I want them with this one person, but I don’t think they want them with me. Which is okay! I’m.. I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Addison follows you to the grass, holding your hair back as you empty your stomach onto the ground.

She pushes down the jealousy as she rubs your back soothingly.

You lean up fast, looking her in the eyes with the most adorable expression (in her opinion).

You give a wide smile, leaning forward the slightest bit.

She does think about it, but your first kiss shouldn’t be this way. You wouldn’t even be able to remember it in the morning. And your mouth tasted awful.

“Come on,” Addison steers you away from the grass and back into the bar. “Let’s get you a coffee. Maybe some fries. How does that sound?”

You groan in response.

+1

Weddings really just irked you. And you didn’t know what it was about them.

Maybe the fact that you spend so much money for a stupid party you won’t even remember in two years, but Addison seemed to love it.

That’s the only reason you were going - was for Addison.

You’d noticed over the past few weeks how close Addison has come to kissing you. You were really hoping today might be it.

You were a bridesmaid, due to you being one of Cristina’s very best friends.

Although right now you were really regretting even agreeing in the first place.

First off, you hated the dress. Brown? Out of any color? Second, (again on the dress) it didn’t fit your body type well at all. And lastly, you were beginning to think there wouldn’t even be a wedding.

Cristina kept freaking out. All day. And now you could hear someone approaching the door. You had a feeling it was Burke.

Meredith calls for you and when you come to the door it’s not Burke.

It’s Addison.

“Addison,” You slip out of the room. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay with Burke?”

“Everything’s okay for now,” Addison keeps a stoic expression on her face. “But is she almost ready? He’s getting antsy, and he might not go through with it.”

You clench your jaw, shaking your head.

“I’m not even the maid of honor and I’m running around fixing everything?” You whisper-shout.

“Don’t get mad at me,” Addison lifts her brows.

“I’m just— this whole wedding is a disaster. First these stupid dresses, second the bachelorette party? I mean, what the hell kind of party was that?! And now Cristina can’t remember her vows, and there may as well—“

You’re cut off by Addison’s lips smashing onto yours.

“Finally,” You sigh, leaning into her.

Her hands find your hips, grabbing onto them as she pushes you against the wall. Your arms wrap around her neck.

“And for the record,” She says between kisses. “I love this dress on you.”

This was a story for the grandkids.

[s3raphimssins]

Can I request Dazai x fem!reader in an arrange marriage??? Also a Royal AU?

I think id be a very cute oneshot!

Tysm

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷prompt: All the pretty stars shine for you my love, am I that girl you dream of? all those times I said that I'm your girl, you make me feel like your whole world. -pretty when you cry

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Dazai x fem!reader royal au

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: royal problems that's it.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: OMG! ofcourse, I love this request so much thank you for this, sorry if its a little long I got carried away also can you recognize one of the Enola Holmes reference?. pink hearts divider by: @cafekitsune <3

"hello Prince....?" you were standing next to a small boy after your parents told you you'll be spending a lot of time together.

"Dazai, and you are...? princess?"

" 'name' " you smiled reaching out to shake his hand. Your parents and Dazais Father smiled at you two and continued to carry on their conversation at the table. As you two talked to eachother at your own table. Due to the issues between 2 of the most prosperous nation, both the children were given in the marriage of one another. It was for diplomatic reasons.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

And that is how you ended up right now. As the two of you gre older your parents forced you together. Dazai's father training him to take the throne and you were forced to learn all the rules and regulations. "please, leave" you said annoyed, your parents were throwing you two an engagement ball in Dazais nation and he was here to pick you. You didn't mean to lash out on him but you've been learning since morning about your duties and how to run a nation all the while keeping within the lines.

You heard him sigh and leave as your stylist shut the door, to get ready. You stood on the platform and she picked some items of clothing for you. It wasn't that you didn't like Dazai, he was a charming prince who every commoner to royalty liked but you couldn't express or find the words to what you were feeling.

"oof" you huffed as the stylist tied your corset. You went to the dressing table to get everything done and after an hour you were ready. You exited the dressing room to be greeted by Dazai standing beside your door waiting. "you waited?" you asked a bit surprised. "Would rather stay here than out". He said looking at you like you were the most beautiful pearl in the ocean. He had thought about it. He didn't mind being engaged to you at all but he knew that you hated it. You weren't mean to him per say but agitated at the things you were forced to do.

"well then what are you waiting for? shall we go?" you asked and walked past him to open the door. You both walked the halls and all of the servants stared in awe at you two. You looking like a majestic angel and he a celestial being in his formal attire. He stopped in his tracks and you looked behind at him and raised a brow in a questioning look. He took out a white rose and put it in your hair. "well, thank you" you gave him a half smile while he returned it with a genuine smile "anything for my lady". You cringed at that "oh shut up". You two continued to walk to the car.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

You reached the ball and heard the people saying how good you two looked, how some ladies and dutchess envied you. You two sat on the thrones next to your parents. As the ceremony commenced you couldn't help but look at Dazai and how he talked to people, how he acted and the little to no details you noticed about him. You wanted to be independent, to rule on your own if not for the stupid deal, you thought he was going to slow you down, but you cant help but feel attached to him, ofcourse he didn't have to know anytime sooner, or...as you planned?

Something made you ick at the Dutchess of your own state talked to Dazai, twirling her hair, laughing, fluttering her fan, and then in the end you saw her and Dazai leaving together in a room...wait IN A ROOM?! That's when you drew the line. Yes you were in denial about loving him and you didn't like the forcible engagement but he was still ENGAGED to you.

You stood up and began to walk to the room and opened the door to see the two talking. "Dear Fiance please tell me where the restroom is in your palace" it came off a bit passive aggressive but ok. . She looked at you and then spoke to Dazai "please sir, i've been meaning to talk to you". He says "perhaps another time i do share your interest" as he left the room to lead you to the bathroom. "your seeing the dutchess??". You said abit agitated.

"shes gone she was flustered. It's okay she wanted to discuss diplomatic relations." You rolled you eyes. "i'm telling you really i have no eyes for anyone but-". You went deep into thought zoning out not hearing what he says. He said something about the reason he gives you gifts or something before you tapped out remembering the first time you met. When your parents signed your life away. When you felt him grab your arm.

"Did you understand what i said?". "YES. you were saying that you..." you stopped to think remembering the times he did stuff for you, When Dazai comforted you after harsh lessons, when he brought you gifts. He looked at you with a serious expression. "It means I love you, now we must return outside Father is looking for me bu-". You interrupted "yes we must return we have much to talk about my dear dear lord you love me, and it appears i love you to" You looked at him with a soft smile. He smiled, not a smirk like usual, a genuine smile as he closed the gap between you two kissing you softly for real.

A Happily Ever After. <3

[card1gan]

Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s family as Zodiac Signs!! (PART 2)

Part 1

Disclaimer: This is just my option (actually just the voices in my head), feel free to disagree! I would love to hear other opinions (also this is just a fun post, nothing serious, also not taking in consideration their actual birth dates). I would also love to know which member of the family you are according to your zodiac sign.

References: The information is from Co-Star and the images are from Capricho. The references of the fanarts are next to the character’s names.

Leo - Viserra Targaryen (🎨: Riotarttherite)

“Exudes warmth and creativity; a little bit vain; really big personality; wants to stand out; interested in luxury”

This one I feel like it was obvious. Viserra was vain and wanted to become queen.

Virgo - King Jaehaerys I (🎨: Amok)

“Needs to feel useful, has a quick fix for everything; judgmental, but with good intentions; exceptional spatial awareness; a million ideas per second”

This is our King Jaehaerys. He was very smart when it came to ideas to fix and improve the realm, but he was a bit judgmental, specially with his daughters. Despite the good intentions, Jaehaerys ended up hurting many people with his actions.

Libra - Maegelle Targaryen (🎨: Riotarttherite)

“Hates being alone; really good aesthetics; conflict avoidant; sees every side; prone to fantasy; can't make decisions”

Okay, I’m wasn’t so sure about this one. I think Maegelle is very sure of her decisions, specially when it comes to the Faith. BUTTTT. Hear me out, I was searching more about libra and guess what: they’re great diplomats! And Maegelle was responsible for helping her parents resolve their problems, not taking sides, avoiding conflict and being a great diplomat.

Scorpio - Rhaena Targaryen (honourable mention!) (🎨: Hylora)

“Primary emotion is betrayal; looks cool in a leather jacket; OK with uncomfortable silence; can't be sure if they're serious or joking; eyes that look into your soul”

Left Rogar Baratheon scared. I would be too.

Sagittarius - Alyssa Targaryen (🎨: Fkaluis)

“No indoor voice; forms opinions off of pure emotion; obsessed with self-improvement; welds their truth like a blunt weapon; friendliest person at the party”

My girl Alyssa was decided to become a dragon rider younger than her brothers and went around taking about how much she loved riding (and not only her dragon). Miss girl was a Sagittarius through and through.

Capricorn - Aemon Targaryen (🎨: Riotarttherite)

“Full grown adult since age six; the responsible friend; motivated by duty; takes a while to warm up to people; represses any emotion that gets in the way of success”

I get strong Capricorn vibes from Aemon. I imagine that he felt like he was carrying the weight of the world in his shoulders, being the eldest child alive and the heir.

Aquarius - Vaegon Targaryen (🎨: Jaydeewis)

“Purposefully esoteric; no feelings, just concepts; actually believes in conspiracy theories; more in love with humanity as a whole than individuals; always feels like an outcast; fetishizes personal freedom”

I always had a very cold and distant impression from Vaegon. He was more happy away from his family in the Citadel and he definitely didn’t wanna marry his “stupid” sister Daella.

Pisces - Gael Targaryen (🎨: Riotarttherite)

“Somehow both 5 and 50 years old at once; thinks everything is a sign; can't remember if they dreamt it or it actually happened; excessively romantic; prone to fantasy; no boundaries”

Our Winter Child was seduced by a singer and even got pregnant. She had a terrible ending, worthy of a Greek tragedy. She’s a Pisces.

[aanoia]

How Well Do We Know Each Other (interview)

Obx cast x reader (Rudy Pankow x reader, not much mentions tho)

Summary; the obx cast gets put to the test on how well they know their coworkers

Warnings; drug mention, not proofread

Words; 3,330

I kinda hate this, but I kinda love it. I hate how many times I used the word laugh though.

Also, I got totally lost with points so I made them up so you would win.

Also, why can't I find any GIFS of the whole cast?

Requests are welcome and encouraged! I have an anon submission box and you can ask in comments!

“We’re rolling in three,” I cleared my throat and adjusted the way I was sitting as the director called out. My boyfriend, Rudy, who was sitting next to me ran his hand through his hair and Jonathan, who sat on the other side of me, cracked his knuckles.. “Two, one.”

Madelyn began talking with a laugh, “We’re the cast of Outer Banks and we’re here to test each other on-”

“Nope.” Chase said, shaking his head with a smile and we all left as the cameras cut.

“Take two.” The director said.

“I am Madelyn Cline and we are here to test how well we know each other.” Madelyn tried again and I shook my head.

“Thank God.” Chase muttered.

“And we also the cast-” Austin started.

“We’re also the cast of Outer Banks!” We all said in unison and began laughing again.

“Cut! Take three.”

“I’m Madelyn Cline, and we’re the cast of Outer Banks.” She motioned towards us and I waved to the camera with a smile. “And we are here to test how well we know each other.

“Yeah!” We cheered as we clapped.

Madelyn held up the card, “What astrological sign do I like the most other than mine?” She asked.

“Do you like the most?” Madison clarified.

“Yeah.”

“Scorpio.” Carlacia said. “Taurus.”

“Capricorn, duh.” I said with a smile.

“Woah, woah, woah, wait.” Jonathan started. “One response, per person.”

Drew got up and leaned over to the side. “Drew, stop cheating.” I said.

“Drew, don’t you cheat.” Chase said as Drew sat back down.

“I’m not.” He defended.

“Or Capricorn, I agree with Y/n. I’m gonna go with Capricorn.” Madison decided and I high fived her.

“I’m gonna say Gemini.” Drew said as Jonathan was saying Gemini.

“Ah, I was about to say Gemini.” Jonathan complained.

“I was just thinking the movie Gemini Man.” Chase said.

“No, Geminis are crazy.” Jonathan decided. “I’m going to go Aquarius.”

Madelyn smiled as she turned the card around, “Gemini women.”

I snorted as everyone laughed. Drew held up his hands in a “what did I tell you?” way as Jonathan protested.

“Ah, he didn’t specify.” He tried.

Madelyn moved on, “What am I most likely to do when I’m not filming?”

“I’m gonna go Call Of Duty.” Austin said and I laughed.

“I think you’re gonna chill at home with a glass of wine.” Madison said.

“Cards Against Humanity. I don’t know.” Rudy said, his hand resting on my knee.

“By myself?” Madelyn laughed.

“Hm, sleep.” I said simply and Madison laughed.

“Okay, well I have a couple. Actually three.” Madelyn informed us and we laughed again. “Um, napping.” I put my hands up in victory.

“I’m so smart.” I bragged, looking straight into the camera and pointing at my head. “Come to me with all of your problems, and they will be solved with the low cost of five dollars.”

“Stop self promoting.” Jonathan deadpanned and I flipped him off.

“Um, wine.” Madelyn continued. “All natural. Natty wines.” Madison snorted. “Or doing Austin impressions to myself.”

I pointed at her, “Oh that’s fun. Mhm.”

“Right?” She said with a smile.

“It’s an honor, thank you.” Austin said with a hand on his heart. “Have you perfected it yet?”

“You’re perfect.” She imitated with a laugh. “What is my pet peeve?” She asked.

“Your car window getting broken, like four times.” Austin said

“In a year.” She added.

“I think that’s a pet peeve. That’s solid.” Madison agreed.

“Being like, talked down to.” Jonathan said.

“Yeah, changing out of pajamas.” Rudy guessed.

“Hm, that’s good.” I told him quietly.

“Like, mansplaining and stuff.” Jonathan continued.

“Getting out of your pajamas.” Rudy repeated.

“Not going to the spa?” Carlacia asked.

“So, JD, you were close. Being told what to do.” Madelyn said.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” He agreed.

We rearranged as Drew got up to the seat.

“Purple nurple. Is it hot in the hot seat?” Chase asked.

“First question. What’s my secret talent? Bonus, where did I learn my talent?” Drew started.

“Sleeping.” Carlacia said.

“Insomnia.” Jonathan said right after.

“Guitar, piano. It’s an instrument.” Madison said.

“Well, what’s happening right now is you’re just giving me a lot of ideas.” Drew explained.

“Write it down.” Carlacia told him. “Cause you look like you’re waiting for us to tell you.”

“Yeah.” He said and wrote down his answer.

“Probably juggling.” Rudy said quietly, but not everyone heard him.

“I saw him playing harmonica with the monkeys.” I pointed out.

“With the monkeys?” Madison asked and I nodded.

“Oh, I can see that.” Austin said.

“When was he serenading?” Madison laughed.

“When the monkey swiped the drink.” I explained as Madison imitated playing a harmonica.

“Alright. My secret talent. I think I did hear someone say it. Which is juggling.” Rudy clapped his hands and I smiled at him. “Um, as a bonus though, uh insomnia is my secret talent.”

“Yeah.” Jonathan agreed.

“Who is my favorite Outer Banks character?”

“Barry.” Chase and Madison said together.

“Come on, that's easy.” Jonathan said.

“We know this.” Carlacia chimed in.

“I’m gonna say Shoupe.” Rudy said.

“Wheezie F baby, Wheezie F.” Madison said and I nodded my head.

“Yeah, Wheezie. Or C/n, because she’s just so hot and great, y’know?” I said with a smug smile while dramatically flipping my hair.

“Oh, for real.” Madelyn agreed as Rudy nodded in approval.

“Is it Ward Cameron?” Jonathan asked.

“No, it is Barry.” Drew said and flipped the card to face the camera. “Except C/n is pretty great.”

“I agree.” I nodded.

“That’s a point, can we count that one.” Chase said to the producers in the back.

“If I could live anywhere in the world, where would I live?” Drew asked.

“I’m tempted to say Bikini Bottom.” Carlacia said and we laughed. “But I’m gonna not.”

“Bikini Bottom.” Rudy repeated.

“North Carolina.” Madelyn said as she laughed and Drew flipped the card which said North Carolina and we all laughed.

“You can see right through that. I saw it too.” Jonathan laughed.

“Hickory, North Carolina.” Austin said.

“Hickory, North Carolina.” Drew repeated.

“No, just put North Carolina.”

“North Carolina. Asheville, North Carolina. That’s my favorite place on Earth.”

“Aw. The Outer Banks.” Madelyn said.

“Paradise on Earth.” I said as Drew threw the card.

“Who’s up?” He asked.

Jonathan sat on the seat. “You ready?” He asked. “Settle down, class. Here we go, first question. What’s my favorite TV show of all time?”

“I know what it is. Go ahead, write it down.” Madison said.

“It’s Boondocks!” Madison, Carlacia and I all said in unison before all high fiving each other.

“It is Boondocks.” Jonathan said with a nod, turning his card to face the camera.

“Sunny Philadelphia?” Austin asked.

“Ooo, always Sunny Philadelphia close second. Hilarious.” Jonathan deadpanned. “Alright, two. What is my favorite soda? And I don’t really drink soda.”

“Crap, it’s root beer.” I said, trying to think of the brand.

“A and W root beer.” Carlacia said.

“It’s not A and W but it is root beer.” Jonathan said.

“Mugs?” Madison asked.

“It’s not Mugs.”

“Oh! Barks!” I exclaimed, pointing at him. “It’s what they have in Texas!”

“Yes, it’s Barks. That’s what they had in Wataburg, Texas. But other than that I don’t really drink soda. Now this is a trick question, because I think you all think you know the answer.” Jonathan said.

“Write down your answers.” Madison said as the boys kept talking over everyone.

“Boys, boys, boys, boys, boys.” Jonathan said, keeping up the teacher act.

“I apologize.” Chase said.

“What’s my go-to snack on set? Now, this has changed since the first season and everybodies gonna yell out fruit snacks. It’s not that.”

“Vickie’s jalapeno chips.” Madison said.

“Goddamnit, Madison.” Jonathan said with a smile and we all laughed. “Give everybody a chance. Alright, I’m gonna write down a second answer too. So everybody can know my second favorite too.”

“I feel like it’s flaming hot cheetos when they got ‘em.” Carlacia said.

“That’s Vickie’s. Vickie’s takes that spot.”

“Then fruit-roll up?” Rudy guessed.

“It’s fruit by the foot, actually.” I said while rolling my eyes.

“Fruit-roll up, or fruit by the foot. What do you say, Chase?”

“I’m thinking, come back to me.” Chase responded.

“Sour patch kid roll up thing?” Austin guessed.

“That’s not a thing.”

“Anyone up there got a guess?” Jonathan asked us.

“Cheez-its?”

“I’m just gonna go with the classic, Lays?”

“Again, it can’t be chips because that’s Vickie’s.”

“Honeybuns?” I asked.

“Uh, it’s goldfish. But Honeybuns too.”

“Does that count?” I asked and looked behind the cameras to the producers. “Does that count?” They shook their heads and I deflated with a pout as Drew patted my head and Rudy wrapped his arm around me and rubbed my arm.

“But goldfish is a chip.”

“It’s a cracker. It’s in the cracker aisle.” Jonathan defended.

“Is goldfish a chip?” Rudy asked the camera.

“It’s a- it’s a cracker?” Austin said unsurely.

“I’m gonna win this one.” I said as Rudy sat on the chair dramatically, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You better.” He said, pointing at me. “Uh, there’s two things, the two things to this question, uh, what am I certified in?” He asked.

“Kayaking.” A bunch of people said.

“Yeah, kayaking and climbing.” I agreed.

“Yeah, it’s kayaking, which I don’t know if I spelled that right, and climbing.” He said, pointing his card to the camera.

“Two of the most Alaskan things possible.” Jonathan said and I nodded my head with a laugh.

Quick point update. I have the most points, four, then Madison with three, Carlacia, Chase, and Jonathan all have two, and the rest have one.

“This one’s kinda weird, how many instruments do I play?”

“How is that weird?” I asked and he just shrugged with a smile. Lots of threes rung out.

“Wait, at what skill level?” Jonathan asked.

“That’s the question now, isn’t it?” Rudy laughed.

“I feel like we can all play something.” Calracia said.

“Cause I’m thinking the kazoo.”

“Yeah the kazoo!” Rudy laughed, doubling over in his chair.

“Yeah and then we got the maracas and the flute.” Jonathan said.

“The triangle.” Madelyn said.

“It’s definitely harmonica.” Chase said.

“Harmonica and guitar.” Madison listed.

“Drums.”

“I was gonna say ukulele.”

“He plays the drums too.”

“So, I’m gonna say 2.5.” Rudy said. “And I’m gonna even count like the piano. But I play harmonica and percussion. The drums.”

“Oh.” Austin said in realization.

“Yeah we bond over them.”

“The one person that should know.”

Austin sat down and grabbed the marker from Rudy.

“How old was I when I started playing drums?” Austin asked.

“Nine.” Madelyn said immediately.

“Right out of the womb.” Chase said.

“What?” Austin said, pointing at Madelyn.

“Wow, Cline.” I commented.

“You saw it.” Drew accused.

“No.”

“I’m not saying that’s correct. We can keep going.” Austin said. “It’s nine.” He said in disbelief.

“Give us another age.” Jonathan said.

“What is the first thing I do in the morning?” Austin asked.

“Check your phone.”

“Wake up?” I said.

“Uh, just breathe.”

“Brush your teeth?”

“Check your phone.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, take out your little soldiers.”

“Brush your teeth!”

“Go to the gym.”

“Invisalign?” Chase asked.

“Chase got it. Take out my night guard. But Y/n was also correct, give her a point too, I do wake up first thing in the morning.”

“I’m so cool.” I bragged.

“What’s my most prized possession?”

“Your drum set.” Rudy said with a laugh.

“Is it Blueberry?” Madelyn asked.

“The range?” Madison guessed as Rudy asked Madelyn what Blueberry was.

“The car, the BMW.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah, for sure your car.” I said. “That thing was a lot of moolah.”

“I’m gonna go with the old, uh, bounce house that you got for Christmas.” Jonathan said, his arms crossed.

“Oh, when I was eight?” Austin laughed.

“When you were eight, yeah.”

“Thought Christmas was over and went downstairs to the basement and there’s a jumpy house!” Austin explained.

“My car.”

“Dude, why did you write it like you’re four years old?” Chase asked.

“Alright, good job, you guys know me pretty well.” Austin said and hnaded the Sharpie to Madison.

“This is the hot seat, huh?” She asked. “Okay.” She looked at the question and gasped. “Do I know how to spell this? I’m gonna write it small.” She said in a higher pitched voice. “What word would I use to describe myself?” She asked in her normal voice.

“Whoo.” Calracia said with loud laughs. I pursed my lips with a smile.

“The S-A-T word?”

“This is blasphemy!” Carlacia said and the whole cast laughed.

“Green.” Drew said with a straight face.

“She can’t spell green?” Jonathan asked.

“Yeah, there’s your hint.” Madison laughed.

“I’m gonna go with- Earthy. I don’t know.”

“I feel like you’re tidy.” Austin said.

“Yeah, I’m going with earthy.” Rudy agreed. “You said earthy, that was a pretty good one.”

“What’s the word you can’t spell?” Carlacia asked and Madison flipped her card.

“Independant.”

I nodded, “That is difficult. For sure.”

“I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T! Do you know what that means? Hey!” The cast sang with large smiles.

“I covered my mouth because I’m over here like I-N-D-E-P-” Madison said and we all laughed.

“How did I meet my girlfriend?” She asked.

“Tikity Tokity.” I said as everyone said some version of Tik Tok.

“There’s gotta be some like, some OBX super fan getting all of these right, right now.” Jonathan said and I nodded.

“It’s me.” I said.

“Sure. But to you, we say thank you.” Jonathan said to the camera.

“What is my favorite movie?”

“Legally Blonde.” Chase said automatically.

“Pursuit of Happyness.” Jonathan guessed..

“Bambi.”

“Nacho Libre.”

“Princess Diaries?” Austin said unsurely.

“Solid movie.” Madison agreed. “JD got it, it is the Pursuit of Happyness. And it’s supposed to be spelled wrong, before I get cranked.”

“Oh, this is a great question.” Carlacia said as she sat down. “What am I most likely to spend my money on?”

“Drugs.” I said confidently, making the whole cast burst out laughing.

“Sneakers.” Madison said once she calmed down.

“Oh!” Carlacia laughed pointing at Madison.

“Sneakers!” Austin said, mocking Carlacias hand motions. “Jordans?”

“Good ass food?”

“Clothes.”

“Fashion. I just think it’s fashion. Just say fashion cause it’s all of it.” Jonathan said and I nodded.

“I change my answer to the entirety of fashion.” I said with a proud smile.

“You can’t do that, cheater.” Jonathan said, crossing his arms.

“Watch me.” I responded, also crossing my arms.

“Ladies, ladies, break it up.” Chase said.

“I have to change mine a little bit because they're probably right.” Carlacua said and I snorted. “I put shoes, but I spend a lot of money on fashion, cause y’know, shoes.”

(A/n, at this point I’ve lost track of points, so I’m kinda making them up) Point update. I have seven, still in the lead, Madison, Madelyn, Chase and Jonathan have five. Drew has four. Carlacia and Austin have three, and Rudy has two.

“Where is my favorite vacation spot?”

(There’s two way people say this, pick whichever you want)

“The Caribbean.” I said.

“It’s the Caribbean, not Caribbean.” Jonathan said, rolling his eyes.

“My bad, Hermione.” I said with a scoff.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna sum it up with the Caribbean.” Madison agreed.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s the Caribbean in general.” Calracia said with a smile. “That’s my favorite vacation spot. Shout out to the West Indies.”

“True or false: I have won a beauty pageant?”

“For sure it's true. You’ve also won my heart.” I said making a heart with my hands and she put her hand over her mouth, pretending to be flustered.

“Stealing my girl over here.” Rudy said and the cast laughed as I blew kisses to Carlacia.

Everyone else said it was true.

“If you didn't, you got robbed.” Madison said.

“Absolutely.” Jonathan said.

“It’s true. I have won a beauty pageant.”

“Yes! Carlacia, I'm your biggest fan, marry me!” I begged jokingly as the rest of the cast snapped their fingers.

“How many tattoos do I have? Bonus: Where are they?” Chase asked after he sat down.

“I feel like you probably have one on your ass.” I said and Drew nodded in agreement.

“There’s an ace, there’s a card.” Madison said, counting on her fingers. “There’s a dove.”

“Everytime I see you, you have three more.” Carlacia said.

“There’s a match.”

“Twelve.” I said with a nod, guessing a random number.

There was a bunch of crosstalk and guesses before Chase began talking.

“I think it’s twelve.” He said.

“Is that what I said?” Madison asked. “That’s what I said?”

“Yeah, we both said twelve.” I nodded.

“What other Netflix series did I appear in?” Chase asked.

“Stranger Things.” Everyone said together.

“I got four letters in then I realized my handwriting is that of a four year old, so, it’s just STRA.” He said, showing us the card.

I sat on the chair with a giddy smile. “It’s my turn.” I said in a sing-song voice and everyone laughed.

“I love how excited you are.” Carlacia said.

“I love you.” I responded while wiggling my eyebrows as she blew a kiss to me, which I pretended to catch and stick in my pocket.

“Ew.” Jonathan said plainly as I looked at the card.

What is my earliest memory?

I laughed evilly as I wrote down my answer.

“Oh Lord.”

“Mk. Guys, my dearest friends, what is my earliest memory?” I asked.

Rudy looked to the ceiling in thought.

“Is it when you peed your pants in second grade?” Austin asked and I gasped.

“You can’t say that on camera!” The cast laughed as I pouted.

“Getting the giant stuffed dog from your dads girlfriend.” Madison said confidently.

“That’s good.” Jonathan agreed.

“No, it’s the fishing trip.” Rudy said with a nod. “When you caught the biggest fish.”

I turned around my card which read “fishing trip” in large, bold letters.

“You’re right, Rudy. It’s the fishing trip.”

“Damn.” Madison said disappointed.

“I feel like Rudy has an unfair advantage here.” Chase said.

“Shh, they’re just in love.” Carlacia said.

“Guys, shush, it’s time for the next question. What sport did I play in middle and highschool?”

“Volleyball.” Everyone said.

“It’s all you want to do when we aren’t filming.” Austin said and I nodded, agreeing with him.

“Okay, the finale, what is my biggest secret?” I said and everyone was silent for a few moments.

“I have zero clue.” Madison said.

“I literally know zero of your secrets.” Jonathan said, getting a nod from Drew and Chase.

“I don’t know man.” Austin said, rubbing his neck.

“Is it that you used to write fanfiction?” Rudy asked.

“And?” I prompted.

“You would post it on Wattpad.”

“Ding ding ding!” I said.

“What did you write about?” Madelyn asked.

“Everything. I’m pretty sure one of my books got to like, 100k reads too.” I said.

“I’m not even surprised you wrote fanfiction.” Drew said.

“Okay guys, who do we think won out of this?” Chase asked.

“I’d say like-”

“I’m banking on you.”

“Drew?” Carlacia asked, looking at the scoreboard.

“Drew?” I repeated, looking for confirmation.

“How did Drew win?” Madison asked as Drew stood up, holding his arms out. The whole cast argued.

“False alarm.” Chase said. “It’s like the whole Miss Universe all over again.” He said as I wiggled my eyebrows at the camera, being the winner.

The whole cast began walking off the stage.

“So, can we play some volleyball?” I asked as Rudy wrapped his arm around my shoulders and groans rang out.

“No!” They yelled together and I laughed evilly, knowing I was going to force them to play anyway.

Unbeknownst to us, the camera was still rolling, and yes, they put that at the end of the video.

You could tell how tired I got towards the end by the lack of detail lmfao

[happyhauntt]

gold rush modern au hcs

series masterlist | writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: the anya / nikolai brainrot is real and i want to start writing for their modern au so until i do, here are some fun headcanons bc i literally cannot stop thinking about them.

─── pairing: nikolai lantsov & anya kamenev (original character.)

anya lets her guard down when she's drunk and early on in their situationship it's the only time nikolai gets to take care of her.

like she calls him to come and get her from a frat party genya took her to and she's so cuddly he's honestly concerned she's been drugged and/or cloned

like 'who are you and what have you done with the girl who bullies me like her life depends on it???'

he's so soft for it when he realises she's just drunk and he tucks her up in her bed with painkillers and a trash can within reach and he sits on the couch until dawn to make sure she's okay and then slips out before she wakes up.

everyone: 'for someone who hates nikolai you sure are obsessed with him'. anya: 'no i'm not???' everyone: 'sure you aren't babe'.

they are the definition of 'fell first, fell harder' !!!

nikolai was out here pining for anya for years, and she just wakes up one day and gets slammed like a fucking freight train with the realisation. oh fuck. i'm in love with nikolai. somehow. how the fuck did that happen. WHY the fuck did that happen. my life is over.

this is right after nikolai is injured at winter fête during an assassination attempt against his father and her whole world just screeches to a halt.

genya and david are just in the corner and david's handing genya a wad of cash and they're laughing while anya has her little meltdown it's adorable.

entering into a friends-with-benefits situation when anya is engaged to vasily (it's an uno-reverse plot of their original story where nikolai is engaged to alina bc PARALLELS and also i can't let them be happy in any universe without first making them suffer) is a Bad Idea but these two are nothing if not self-destructive.

anya may be in love with him but she doesn't have the emotional capacity to Deal with that yet so she's just gonna fuck him.

being friends-with-benefits is all well and good until nikolai gets so fucking jealous of anyone who even looks at anya. she finds this hilarious (until someone's looking at nikolai and then she's throwing hands.)

anya is very insecure about her disability, especially because of her status and expectations, and nikolai makes it his duty to show her how much he adores every inch of her, every day.

anya is engaged to vasily and she and nikolai fully get caught by zoya sneaking out of the engagement party to go makeout in the bathroom. these two are gonna give her premature grey hairs honestly-

anya admits to nikolai that she misses being able to dance. nikolai helps her dance around her apartment by supporting her weight and they're giggling and suddenly they're slow dancing and it's so fuckin adorable.

it's hard to believe anya was so mean to him for literal years.

nsfw beneath the cut!

anya learning she's actually a sub is so fucking funny

like she is so submissive during sex but absolutely not at first. she has a dire need for control in her life and definitely runs their sex life/tops for the first few months.

it's really significant the first time she realises she trusts nikolai and surrenders that control to him, because what she really wants is someone to take care of her, someone to trust completely.

she's so bossy at first and then sex becomes this thing where she just melts and nikolai literally thinks he'll die the first time she allows him that control because it's like seeing anya for the first time, and he's so in love with her already even if it's just sex but in that moment he swears he fell in love with her again. knowing he had her trust like that was,,, everything.

teasing eachother like it's an olympic sport?? more likely than you think.

like she used to hate him (lol not really) and now it's her personal fucking mission to rile him up at any given opportunity. public events?? in the library?? at her own fucking engagement party?? you got it.

nikolai fucking anya in her wedding dress??? yes.

because she is a masochist and doesn't know when to stop hurting herself (or nikolai honestly) she's like 'hey it arrived from it's final fitting, can i show it to you?' and he wants to say no so badly.

she's marrying his asshole brother, there is no world where he wants to see this dress, see her in it, picture her wearing it for someone other than him.

but her eyes are so wide, so vulnerable, and he realises she needs this. needs him to be the first person to see her wearing it. needs him to understand.

so she comes out, and he's honestly,,, floored. and angry. and so, so turned on. his eyes grow dark and hungry and before they know it he's hiking the dress up to her waist and fucking her against the doorframe.

and it's so possessive and full of remember you're my good girl, not his and when you're saying your vows, you gonna think of this? think of me fucking you in this dress? you're so beautiful, my darling, he doesn't deserve you. look at me. you're gonna walk down the aisle and all i'll be able to picture is your face as you come for me.

it's so hot and the room smells like sex and nikolai takes a picture of her in the dress afterwards, draped on the bed, face flushed and eyes shining and happy. and he'll pretend it's their wedding night.

[halowritesthings]

“Tout est nul, putain,” Remy said while stomping his way inside. He shook the snow off his body like a wet dog, specifically because he knew it would annoy Scott when he eventually came inside and saw the partially melted snow on the hardwood. “I hate de cold.”

He shucked off the winter cap and gloves he borrowed, but before he could bend over to unlace his boots, a southern drawl emitted from the doorway, “So Ah’ve heard.”

Looking up, he saw Rogue leaning on the frame of the entrance to the common area of the mansion, a blanket bundled in her arms. His mood suddenly perked up significantly, “Well, good ol’ North must‘ve finally caught me. Why else would such a stunnin’ ange be here t’greet moi?”

Rogue rolled her eyes as she got off the frame to stand up straight, “Quit bein’ a drama queen, Swamp Rat. Everyone has had to shovel the walkways at some point.”

Remy pouted, leaning down so he could get back to stripping off the boots, “You say dat, yet why is tonight de first time I seen Specs do his fair share, neh? Gettin’ down an’ dirty too much a hassle for Fearless?”

“Ya know that’s just because ya always hightail it out of the room before the drawing of straws can begin,” Rogue said. “Ah think he’s already maxed out his shoveling duties for the season, but he joined ya tonight anyway, specifically to make sure you would do yer job for once.”

When Remy got both boots off, he looked up at Rogue with zero guilt in his eyes. His pout might have gotten bigger, actually, “So mean to Remy.”

He was quick to slip on his moccasin slippers that he was forced to abandon just an hour prior. If he wasn’t feeling so stiff, he would honestly be willing to bend over even further to place a kiss on the tips of each of them. Plus, he already got called dramatic once in this conversation; even though it was true, he would like to keep the factual observations to a minimum tonight.

As he stood back to his full height, he was suddenly assaulted, darkness enshrouding his vision and his movement becoming restricted. He struggled for a second before remembering what he was just looking at and held himself still. He was swiftly rewarded when a pair of gentle hands messed with the covering at his face and adjusted it so he was snuggly wrapped everywhere that didn’t impede his line of sight. 

Once he was able to see again, he was met with Rogue looking at him with that same fond exasperation he loved to bring out in her. “Don’t chu’ worry,” Rogue began, finalizing the details of her current attempts to encase Remy where he stood. “Jubilee went and made us a bunch’a different kinds of hot coco, and knowing yer daily sugar intake, you’ll be reawakened in no time.”

With a lopsided smile, he grabbed one of her hands, using his blanket-covered fingers to wrap excess blanket around her knuckles before placing a kiss to the top of the hand while looking her in the eyes. She was of course wearing one of her nighttime pair of gloves that she wore when they hung out after hours, but recently he had been making sure to add extra layers between them whenever he could to ease whatever leftover anxiety plagued her mind, “Mon sauveur, what would dis scoundrel do wit’out chu?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rogue said with another roll of her eyes. “Love ya too, ya greaseball.”

woe 🫴 halo x-men fic be upon ye shout out to the 4 people who unanimously voted "yes" to the poll on my main asking about whether or not i should post this WIP snippet to tumblr lol. i have zero idea as to when i can get this completed due to a.) the dreaded blockage of writers as per usual and B.) the dreaded schoolwork which is in a constant revolving state of "maybe i won't have too much work this weekend" and "holy shit i'm falling behind so hard i'm gonna die-" this snippet is rather contained tho so it can work as a standalone pretty well. maybe i just need to embrace shorter ficlets as my main form of writing. certainly would be a nice break from the "can't make a oneshot less than 6k words" train i've been riding since day one LMAO anyway feel free to ignore my yapping; i hope you like my first foray into this fandom!

[enneadau]

False Light Spoilers:

As per usual, don't read if you don't want spoilers...

“Not all of us are here unwillingly.” The older woman smiled as she took a ladle of the soup like substance in the huge, hot bowl and tipped it into a waterskin, “We chose to join the game.”

--

“Why would you help me?”

“Why?” Honda felt like a small child, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Something I’m not sure the Tomb Keepers are aware of, is that the seal? It’s not whole anymore. There’s tears in it where people have either tried to access the power, or shove something into the darkness. Tears that have needed constant watching and rituals to avoid the Shadows escaping.”

“Shit…”

“Language.” She scolded good humoredly, “But I can understand the sentiment. I come from a village above one of the rifts, and well…”

“It went wrong?”

“Oh, far from it, at least when it was mine and my sister’s turn.”

“Your sister’s here too?”

“No, no.” The woman gave a sad smile as her hands lit up with a blue glow and she cupped the hot bag of liquid, “My sister lived a good while after our turn came up, but she was a part of why I’m here. Our ritual required twins, you see. One incredibly powerful soul, split into two people, not unlike the royal twins.”

Honda nodded, thinking about the way Yugi and Sakhmet considered themselves twins, and what they could be when working as one.

“To keep the rift sealed, I was raised to believe my duty was to die, while my sister’s duty was to end my life."

“You’re serious?” Shock was etched in every fiber of his being. “Why would she WANT to?”

“Now now, she hated it, hated that she was the younger, so she had to be the one to send me here, but we didn’t really have a choice.” She scolded as steam rose off the bag, suggesting it was rapidly cooling.

“You see, the duty of the elder was to come over to this side and hold the gate closed, while the younger, the Remaining, who got marked by the crimson butterfly, became whole and gained access to the power that had been divided. They were supposed to stay in the village and use that power to become a shield against the Shadows on that side, and my sister did that for a decade or two, but I can’t really blame her for falling in love. I met the boy when he got caught up in a Shadow Game and well, I’d have run away with him too. Plus, their granddaughter is an absolute sweetheart.”

She shrugged, but Honda was livid on her behalf. “She killed you, then ran away?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get my freedom too, one day.” The woman grinned at him, “I held the doors as long as I could, and the last Maiden who was supposed to hold the doors closed decided to go back through the gate and destroy our home instead, because her sister refused to take her place in the ritual, so if my sister hadn’t run, she’d have ended up like the others.”

The lack of venom in the woman’s voice calmed Honda a little, “What happened to that rift?”

“It was drowned under a lake, along with the whole village and became a reservoir.” The woman shrugged, “I have to say, it’s been nice to get some fresh water occasionally, even if I worry about the amount that’s wasted every time some fool thinks they can escape that way, forgetting they need to breathe once they’re in the living world.”

Honda blinked, considered how much water was in a reservoir that they would have to swim through, and shuddered

“Besides, I just have to wait for the Final Sacrifice. The last act that will seal the doors forever. That’s not that far off now. After that, everyone will be free to leave and head into the afterlife, and I’m far from the first Maiden. I’ve not waited that long.”

“So, you joined the game to make sure you got to leave?”

“Well, the Final Sacrifice can’t happen if Anubis kills the younger twin, can it?”

Honda’s eyes widened.

“Not a word to the little Pharaoh though, or she’ll balk and it won’t happen.”

“But Sa…”

“Don’t. Say. Her. Name.” The friendly, polite tone turned sharp and angry as the woman cut him off, “Don’t say her name, don’t say the little one’s name, just keep your mouth closed. You’ll cost your friend the game and her life.”

“Sorry…”

“You couldn’t have known.” The tone changed again, back to the niceties of before, “But don’t worry, I said we get to go to the afterlife, didn’t I?”

Honda relaxed a little.

“Now,” She stood up and headed for the big tent Anubis had just left, gesturing in their direction, “Come and help me sort this out.”

[findingnemosworld]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 ( 𝐇𝐢, 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 (𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐜̧𝐚), 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 (𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐲𝐤?). 𝐍𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭! )

𝐩.𝐬: 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐚 𝐳𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐄𝐥𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

[ 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 ]

Sergio Ramos hated Natalia Moreno.

He was not the type of person to hate, not even by the slightest - his teammates can attest to that, while he may be aggressive and a bit of a wild card, he deeply cared for those closest to him yet something about Natalia sets him off every single time he meets her during events or even at parties and he could not for the life of him, comprehend much less pinpoint why he can't seem to like her.

Or worse, why he can't seem to get her out of his mind.

It didn't occur to him just how infatuated he was by her until he along with his teammates, Luka and Toni were in attendance to watch the women's ElClasico.

" I just checked " Luka states, " Natalia's in the lineup, so we are in for quite a showing " he turns to Sergio and jokingly adds. " Be careful you don't pop a vein Serge "

Toni smirks, " I think he might end up joining the girls "

" Can you two keep quiet? " Sergio interjects, shooting both men a glare.

" Not until you admit that you don't actually hate her " Luka retorts with a teasing smile, " You just hate the fact that the pundits are calling her a female version of you "

" To be fair whenever she plays she reminds me of you " Toni chimes in.

" Only more attractive " Luka chuckles before adding, " It’s ok Sergio, we know that you like her, might even be in love with her "

Sergio gestures to the pitch where both of the women’s teams were currently warming up, and then he looks at them. " Can we focus please? "

" Sure we can " Luka nods, before teasingly adding. " we'll focus on the love of your life "

_____________________

" Talia "

Natalia looks up to see her captain and good friend Alexia looking at her with a concerned expression. " I'm ok Lexi, don't worry "

Alexia raises a brow, " Talia, as the captain, it's my duty to worry and ensure that all the girls are one hundred per cent there, clearly you aren't "

Natalia grows silent, unsure of how to approach it; suddenly, she blurts out. " Do I come off as arrogant or egotistical? "

Alexia's face contorts in confusion before a chuckle escapes her lips upon realizing why she was asking her that question, " Is it about what Ramos said? "

Natalia grumbles under her breath, " How would you feel if someone you thought was a decent human ends up saying 'Oh she's talented but she needs to be humble' -- I mean how the fuck do you confuse confidence with arrogance? "

Alexia shakes her head, as the pair dribble the ball back and forth; she looks at her. " I think you shouldn't let it get to you, I mean I think he only said that cause he's intimidated by you "

Natalia huffs out a breath, " Now we both know that's not true, he hates me and to be honest I hate him as well because he is a world class womanizing asshole, even if he has a cute smile, and his tattoos are stupidly attractive "

Alexia pressed her lips together, to stifle back the laugh that's threatening to escape; Natalia looks up and furrows her brows, " I .. I really said that out loud didn't I? "

Alexia nods with a smile, " Yeah, you did. I mean, Talia. I don't think you two actually hate each other "

" How would you know? " Natalia asks with a confused expression.

" Let's just say that rumors are flying, and by flying I mean ... " Alexia giggles, " I had an interesting chat with one of his teammates "

" They're probably exaggerating so ... I wouldn't believe what they're saying " Natalia mutters.

" Well, you shall see later " Alexia said.

" Why? " Natalia asks with a narrowed glare.

" Olga asked me to go clubbing with her, and you are coming with me, she's going to this pretty famous club in Madrid that surprise surprise is frequented by the men's team " Alexia said.

" And why would I go? " Natalia asks her.

" To prove to you that he doesn't actually hate you, and you don't actually hate him " Alexia said, " Maybe when you get together, you'll save us all the trouble of having to experience the sexual tension during events "

______________________

The match was in its second half, Barcelona leading the scoresheet with 3-2 against Real Madrid; Sergio couldn't deny the fact that he saw glimpses of himself in Natalia, the rage, fire and passion for the game coupled with her high athleticism definitely made sense as to why several pundits continuously heap praises on her, " I think she's going to score " Luka's words interrupt his thoughts causing him to look to his left, Luka gestures to Natalia. " she's going to score "

And just then, with Alexia's assist at the 86th minute; Natalia was able to score a stunning header into the net reminiscent of some of Sergio's headers, what made it even better was the fact that she ran to the corner of the pitch celebrating in a similar fashion, surrounded by her teammates.

" You just know she did that for you " Toni laughs.

" No she didn't " Sergio interjects, " She did that to mock me "

The match ended, with Toni suggesting that they head out to a club since they didn't have training tomorrow; Luka phoned their other teammates --- and they head to the most frequented club in Madrid, Lucas ordered a round of drinks as they sat at the top floor of the club in the VIP section.

Sergio was standing near the railing, nursing a drink in his hand when his eyes found her, she was sitting with Alexia and a few other girls he couldn't make out due to the dim lighting. He stood there observing her for a couple of minutes until, she looks up and meets his gaze.

" Sergio, what are you looking at? " Luka asks him before following his gaze to see exactly where, or in this case who he was looking at the moment, " Would you look at that? "

" Luka " Sergio said with a warning tone.

" I didn't say anything but what I can say " Luka said then pats his back, " instead of undressing her with your eyes, you can undress her with your hands "

Sergio didn't respond, instead; his gaze travels back to Natalia who was now on the dance floor and thanks to the lights centered there, he was able to make out her dress which left little to the imagination causing his throat to dry up, the dress stopped at her mid thighs and coupled with the red heels she was wearing elongated her legs causing a plethora of unholy ideas to cloud his mind which in turn prompted him to do the unthinkable.

__

In the midst of dancing and losing her self to the rhythm of the song, she feels a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist and before she could react; a familiar deep voice whispers, " cálmate petardo ( calm down firecracker ) " causing a wave of desire to pool in her lower abdomen, she smirks then tilts her head to meet his unreadable gaze. " And here I thought you'd be sucking face with one of the bimbos around "

Sergio's chest vibrates with laughter, " Is that all you think of me? that I'm some form of crazed sex addict "

" Are all the articles a lie then? " Natalia retorts, swiftly turning around to face him, a questioning look across her features.

" I can't help it, I'm a generous lover " Sergio shrugs, he looks at her with a teasing grin. " Maybe you can come home with me and see for yourself "

" Oh my ... " Natalia states with a mocking tone, wrapping her arms around his neck then leaning closer, " You'd like that, wouldn't you? to have me naked in your bed, withering with pleasure "

Those words were enough to send Sergio's brain into overdrive, and blood shot straight to his cock causing his jeans to become uncomfortably tight, and judging by the drunken giggle that escapes her lips, he was sure she felt it as he pulled back and smiled. " You are so predictable " she raised a brow, " Is that why you called me arrogant? because deep down, you like me "

" I ... I don't " Sergio shakes his head, attempting to chase away every thought in his mind.

" You right, it's a lot more fun to hate each other cause ... " Natalia leans close to his ear and whispers. " It'll make the sex more fun "

Before Sergio could form a reply, he watches her stumble back to the booth where the girls were, his brain was scrambled; overwhelmed by the emotions and ideas that consumed him, which prompted him to make the reckless move of approaching their table, " Buenas noches chicas " he smiles.

Alexia beams, " Buenas noches, fancy seeing you here "

" Likewise " Sergio grins, " Do you mind if I steal Natalia? "

Both Olga and Alexia share a look before shaking their head, " Not at all " Olga said, stifling back a laugh as Alexia chimes in, " she's all yours "

Sergio beams, then turns to Natalia. " Shall we? "

Natalia smiles then stands up to follow him, " we shall ... "

It had been two and a half years since that night and to say that their relationship was unique would be an understatement, the world was not aware of their relationship which made it more fun for them to tease one another in the media -- Sergio maintained his stance that Natalia needs to be less 'arrogant' and Natalia would throw in teasing jabs about him through instagram lives and tweets.

Over the past few weeks; she had noticed a sudden change in Sergio's behavior which raised a sense of suspicion in her; due to the lack of time on their schedule, they were unable to speak properly however one evening, after an away match her team had against Athletic Club, Sergio asked her to come over and spend the night with him.

The minute she walked into his home, the smell of cooked food entered her nostrils, and Sergio steps out to meet her with a smile; pulling her close to him to plant a soft kiss to her lips. " Hola "

" Hola " Natalia giggles, giving him another peck before she gestured to the set up dining table with a smile. " What's all this? "

" I figured the least I can do, is treat the bane of my existence " Sergio states, grinning when she laughed. " with a classic dish from the Ramos García household "

" Oh my, I'm so lucky " Natalia beams.

" Go on and shower " Sergio instructs her, " I've laid out some of my clothes for you to wear "

One of the many things she adored about Sergio was how soft he was in contrast to the persona everyone saw, she nods and makes her way to his room while Sergio went back to ensuring that every thing was perfect for tonight, he'd been planning on taking the next step in their relationship, while some might call it rushed but he knew that she was exactly the woman for him.

Thirty minutes later, she steps out of his bedroom; dressed in one of his boxers and t-shirts, with her hair down and face bare of makeup with just her glasses on; if he thought his heart was gone, that day in the club -- it was definitely gone right now.

They sit down and enjoy their dinner, chatting about their matches and their upcoming plans when all of a sudden, Sergio said. " Amor "

" Hm " Natalia hums.

" Can you go to the kitchen to get the dessert? It's on the counter " Sergio asks her with a sweet smile that seemed to conceal something behind her.

Natalia narrowed her eyes before smiling, " Ok " she stood up then walked into the kitchen looking around for a moment, until her eyes landed on a note that was folded on the counter, confused; she grabs the paper to open it and raises a brow, the note read.

I forgot, the dessert is outside, come back please :(

Natalia shakes her head, taking the note with her. " Again with the stupid pranks Sergio, how many times did I tell you to sto--- " her words escape at the sight before her.

There was Sergio, down on one knee with a ring box in his finger.

" Sergio " Natalia said.

" Hear me out " Sergio began, swallowing the lump in his throat. " The truth is, I thought I hated you, I really did " he chuckles, " But the fact is, ever since you came up and I started watching you; I was mesmerized by your passion and heart for football, I tried to push the feelings aside because you played for Barca but ... I don't care anymore, Estoy loco por ti petardo "

Natalia's eyes gloss over with tears threatening to escape, " Sergio "

" I want to spend the rest of my life with you, with us teasing each other online, and loving each other more and more behind closed doors " Sergio continues, " I want all of it, the good days, the bad days and the days in between where we fight and argue because that's what fuels our passion "

" I want that too " Natalia nods.

" Well in that case, will you forever be the bane of my existence, spend the rest of your life with me, and marry me? " Sergio smiles.

Natalia nods, choking back a sob as Sergio slips the ring into her finger, they share a kiss as she mutters, " Barca player and Madrid player getting married, a story for the books "

" We're not that different " Sergio smirks, before hoisting her up in his arms. " Come on, we have to celebrate properly "

Natalia grins, " let's go future husband "

[romerona]

War Of Hearts

⤑ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇʟᴘ ʙᴜᴛ ʙᴇ ᴡ��ᴏɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ. ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ’ᴍ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ

Selene Maltheon never thought of herself to be a puppet, she thought she'll live her life free and happy, there was no denying that she was a big dreamer and hopelessly naive. Selene thought she'll grow up to live one of those happily ever after lives like the ones from the books she reads so much... however, the inevitable happened, she grew up and came to the realization she was yet just another pawn in the big game.

Jacaerys Velaryon x Oc // Aemond Targaryen x Oc.

A/N: A bit of an AU. Rhaenyra and her sons are still in Kingslanding but they (The greens and The blacks) still hate each other.

[DUTY ABOVE ALL]

Masterlist

1 - 2 -

Rhaenyra Targaryen was a gentle soul, she is a kind and patient woman who genuinely cares for her family. She is a charismatic and confident person, a natural leader. — It is beyond Jacaerys why there was so much opposition to her becoming the queen of the Seven Kingdoms because surely all, if not most, of Rhaenyra's aspects it's what a good ruler must have, is it not?— But before all, Rhaenyra is his mother and she could be terrifying when she wanted to be.

"Mother?" Jacaerys watches as his mother enters his chambers with no mind, she looks at Jacaery with her pricing violet eyes, eyes he once wished he had inherited. "Is there something wrong?"

"Not wrong per se, I was told you've been interested in courting a lady in court? Lady Selene Maltheon?"

Jace wanted to say he was surprised his mother knew about his undying infatuation with Selene but he wasn’t. He looks away from Rhaenerya's eyes. "Perhaps I am..."

"Jace, you need to remember your position not only in your family but in court as well, and what your obligations are. You are a prince, and that demands your attention at all times. There's no room for mistakes, and you must be mindful of that. The Maltheons are an important family, yes, but my advisors tell me Lord Alexios supports the opposition. We mustn't trust them." Her voice becomes severe but soft "Now, was there anything that happened with Lady Selene? I want the truth."

Jacaerys pursed his lips glancing at his mother, he understands that Rhaenyra was wary of the Maltheons, but he didn't know Lord Alexios took part in those hushed rumours flying around about lords wanting to usurp his mother's throne when the time came. "Nothing more than a chat mother, Selene, she was- we simply discuss how she would like to become a healer if her being a woman wouldn't be a problem." Jacaerys couldn't help but defend the lady that has his heart trapped. "But mother you must know she is not like her family, Selene, she is brilliant and kind, Selene cares for you as Queen, she told me herself, she thinks-"

Rhaenyra sighs interrupting Jace's ramble, still maintaining her serious and stern demeanour. "Your position, Jace, requires you to make sacrifices, as tough as that is. We've always known that you are caring, my boy, and that's a strength in its own right. But you can't let it affect your duties or your judgement. You are my son, but you're also a prince of the Seven Kingdoms and future hire to the iron throne. And it's your duty to put your position above your own needs." She pauses, her eyes softening as she speaks "I understand you are infatuated with the girl, Jace, but you must understand her part in all of this as well as yours."

Jace purses his lips and nods, he knows duty triumphs over love, unfortunately. He smiles at his mother, however, his smile didn’t reach his eyes "Mother… but, Selene-"

"Lady Selene is still her father's daughter. I know someone in a similar situation, we must not trust them."

"She's being oppressed by her father," Jacaerysn mumbles defending Selene against his mother's unfair judgment.

"Jacaerys, we must not be trusting around the Maltheons, " Rhaenyra's voice turns severe once again as her violet eyes cut through any argument he might have had against her. "And now that Lord Alexios is the new hand of the king we must be more wary than ever. Do you understand?"

Jacaeys knew there was no claim on his part to make Rhaenyra see Selene as anything other than a Maltheon. "I’ll... be more careful in the future, mother."

Rhaenyra's face softens, she smiles softly at Jace and puts a hand on his shoulder "I know you will be, Jace. You're going to be a great king one day, and you'll do the kingdom very well, I'm certain of it. But as your mother, I must say that you shouldn't go chasing after every lady you see, not when it gets in the way of your duties." She pauses for a moment, looking at him, "All right?"

"...Of course, Mother." But Selene wasn’t just any lady. Jace fancies Selene to the point where he doubts any other woman could take his attention the way Selene does, and they had only held a single conversation but that was enough for him, still, he can’t tell his mother that, not after all she told him, so, he simply agrees with her because what else is there to do?

Rhaenyra nods satisfied by Jacaers answer "I won't hold it against you, Jace. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't the same in my younger years." She pauses before continuing "But I can't give you the chance for it to happen with that girl. You know how important your position is." She sighs, her expression softening once more "Do you at least understand where I'm coming from?"

"My duty as the prince is important and we shouldn't associate with those who are traitors to the crown." Jacaerys performs for his mother. "I understand."

Rhaenyra's face contours into a fond smile as she pulls him in for a hug and whispering into his brown locks “Thank you, Jace. I understand that sometimes duty and obligations are difficult to deal with, but they're necessary." She pulls back, and for just a moment the formality leaves, and it's his mother speaking. She smiles sincerely at him "Be careful, Jace. And come find me if you ever need anything."

With one last nod of his head, Jace watches his mother leave his room.

Later on the day, Jace tried to keep his mind and attention focused on the Maester and his voice, the same old words he just can't seem to understand, but no matter what he did the thought of Selene and his mother's words plagued his thoughts.

"Se Blakuata Rasho.... What goes after that, my prince?"

Jace glanced up at the Maester, he frowns in thought, 'I know this' Jace pursed his lips before answering "dranot..." Jace sighs, head falling down in irritation with himself.

"Dranot vilinio viartis, your Highness" The Maester stresses, Jacaerys was sure the old professor was just as irritated with him as he was. "Repeated, please. From the begging."

Jacaerys sighs tiredly but does as told but even then, as he recited the venerable Valyrian words, his mind was somewhere else, somewhere familiar. Selene's face, her voice, the way she looked and smiled. Every time Jace would begin to focus on the Maester's monotonous voice, his mind would wander to her. He knew that his feelings for her were forbidden… his mother made it clear as the sky on a summer day, that he should be distrustful of the Maltheons, all of them. Lord Alexios is working alongside people who have been planning to take the throne from his mother. And if what Selene told Jace about that man is that he would rather drink water from Blackwater Bay than have Rhaenyra, a woman, as Queen. He should listen to his mother, Jacaerys should keep his distance from the Maltheons, from Selene... but he also knows she is not like that. Selene said it herself, she believes his mother would be a brilliant Queen so he shouldn't judge a daughter for her father's actions.

Jacaerys has a decision to make; would he try and stop himself from chasing after her for the sake of duty and for the sake of his family, or would he give in to his desires?

Part 3?????

[multi-lefaiye]

tick, tock.

[ #FFF234: HOW IT ENDS ]

HIIIII hi <3 i have some writing to share, after about 500 years.

this was originally written for today's @/flashfictionfridayofficial prompt, HOW IT ENDS, but i ended up going way over the limit and didn't wanna edit it down. so. it's not part of that anymore. but i'm including the banner anyway bc i like it <3

so, for context, this is based on a specific scene in act two of baldur's gate 3, a specific interaction with wyll that i love so so much, featuring my tav, the tiefling eden linnaeus <3

content warnings: semi-graphic threats of violence, but honestly mainly just spoilers for bg3, if that's something you're worried about.

words: 1692

tagging the art taglist, bc no gods no masters (no pressure to any of y'all to read! <3 and if you want to be added or removed, please let me know): @skitzo-kero @anexor @presidentquinn @albatris @chaieyestea @astral-runic @kk7-rbs @jezwrites @whonsper @moonflowerrss @approximately20eggs @rosesandartss @lychniscitrus @invaderskoodge @transmasc-wizard @midnight-and-his-melodiverse

----

The projection of Mizora is every bit as imposing as the first time Eden saw her. She stands tall in the heart of his camp, his safe haven, her clawed hands on her hips and jagged teeth barely hidden by her rose-painted grin. As always, she stares down at him with clear disdain, crown of horns perched high on her brow. She has a smug air about her that says, You are beneath me, nothing more than a pathetic ant beneath my boot.

At this moment, all Eden wants is to rip that pretty face apart. If she ever gets the guts to actually stand before him, he might do just that.

Tonight isn’t about that, however. Tonight is about Wyll, who stands next to Eden with a resigned sort of grief on his handsome face. He bows beneath the weight of Mizora’s expectations, as always, and the ridiculous suicide missions she sends him on. Wyll is dutiful, kind, and deeply honorable, and she seems to delight in every torturous humiliation she lavishes upon him. Kill this devil for me (yes, Mizora), move this mountain for me (yes, Mizora), tear yourself to ragged pieces for me (yes, Mizora). It never ends.

Even now, she appears just to torment him, holding promises of freedom over his head that she has no intentions of fulfilling. His suffering is a game to her, one that he has no hope of winning.

One thing is abundantly clear: to Mizora, Wyll is little more than a dog, her loyal pet for her to keep on a tight leash and kick as she pleases. And he’ll always come crawling back to her, because he has no choice in the matter.

And that, Eden decides, is unacceptable. 

“Ta ta, pet,” Mizora coos, winking playfully at Wyll’s clenched jaw, the way he casts his eyes down at the ground. Submissive. Cowed. It doesn’t suit him. She waggles her dainty fingers at him in a wave. “And do make haste. I’d hate to have to ruin that pretty face of yours if you fail.”

Something inside Eden snaps.

“Wait,” he says, taking a step towards the devil. She blinks at him, clearly surprised that he spoke up. “What’s in it for him?” Mizora snorts.

“I thought I was quite clear,” she purrs. She holds up a finger for emphasis. “As per our contract, Wyll must do whatever I ask of him. And, now, he must rescue my stolen asset from Moonrise, or else I will rend his flesh from his bones and-”

“Yes, yes, we heard you the first time,” Eden cuts her off. “Save us the fucking theatrics, you winged sack of shit.” He waves a hand dismissively and rolls his eyes. “My point, however, is that I don’t see why he should do anything for you. You haven’t given him anything--isn’t that the point of a fair deal?” He’s treading dangerous waters, he knows, but he’s not backing down now.

The devil ponders his words, her expression twisted in fury at his insolence. Clearly, the bitch isn’t used to mortals who talk back. Finally, she asks cautiously, “What are you proposing?”

Mizora glares at him, and for perhaps the first time, Eden understands what it means to face down eternal damnation. Her burning eyes promise hellfire, but Eden meets her gaze unflinchingly. And as he does, he sees something he didn’t before: a spark of fear, of desperation, in her face. Mizora is scared. Whatever asset she needs Wyll to fetch, she’s fucked if he doesn’t get it for her.

There’s blood in the water. And, like a shark, Eden strikes.

“End your pact with Wyll.” The words seem to echo like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet camp. “He’s done everything you’ve asked as your errand boy, and you’ve done almost nothing in return. The contract has served its purpose, so if you want anything else from him, end it.” Distantly, Eden is aware of the others in the background, talking among themselves as they wonder if they should intervene. But Eden doesn’t care about that now. His focus is on the evil bitch in front of him, and the noble man behind him.

Then, Wyll’s voice sounds in the back of Eden’s mind, clearly terrified of where he’s going with this.

What are you doing? he asks. Eden glances at Wyll out of the corner of his eye and sees the man watching him with wide eyes. Wyll is terrified, that much is clear.

Trust me. Eden meets Wyll’s gaze, his face carefully neutral despite the pleading words. Please. Wyll hesitates for a moment, trepidation shining in his face. A heartbeat passes, and he nods, steeling his gaze.

I trust you.

Something in Eden’s chest warms at the words, at Wyll’s unwavering faith in him, and he turns his attention back to Mizora. She’s still glaring at him, but she looks unsteady. He’s clearly on the right track. He just has to keep digging.

“Why should I?” she sneers, and now Eden sees how defensive the gesture is as she crosses her arms. “You have no bargaining power, boy. Wyll made an agreement with me, and he’s obligated to-”

“Tick,” Eden says casually. “Tock.”

“What?” Mizora barks, furrowing her brow.

“Tick, tock, Mizora,” Eden says. He smiles at her, the expression baring his fangs. “Every second you spend bitching about what Wyll should do is another second you waste that we could be helping you.” His smile grows as he imagines sinking his teeth into Mizora’s flesh. “How long until the Absolutists destroy your precious asset, removing her brain and replacing it with worms? We’ll have to act fast if we’re to get there in time. By then, it may be too late.”

“You don’t-” Mizora starts in a snarl, her fingers curling into claws, but Eden doesn’t let her finish.

“Tick, tock.” He snarls back in a feral grin. “What do you choose? Tick, tock, tick, tock-”

“Stop,” Mizora growls.”

“Tick, tock, tick, tock-”

“ENOUGH!” Mizora cries, her voice a booming thunderclap that almost shakes Eden to his core. Almost. She staggers away from him as though burned by his words alone, raising her hands to hide her face. For a long moment, she stands there, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

Whoever Mizora needs saved from Moonrise, she’s clearly as important as Eden assumes if the idea of losing her is enough to unsettle the devil this deeply.

The devil takes a breath, shuddering as she collects herself. Finally, she lowers her hands, crossing her arms again. She glares at Eden, but there’s no heat in the expression now, not after Eden laid bare how desperate she really is. He glares back at her freely, his expression triumphant. He’s won, and they both know it.

“Fine,” Mizora says through gritted teeth. She takes a breath again, schooling her expression into a calm smile. “Fine. I will release Wyll from his contract.” It sounds like she’s forcing herself to say each word. Eden hopes it hurts her to say them. “After he rescues the asset.” She throws the last part out like a challenge, grinning viciously at Eden, and he only shrugs in response.

“Naturally,” Eden agrees easily enough. “That’s only fair, after all.” Something glints in his eyes. “When he rescues the asset, you will release him from his pact.” It’s not a request, and Mizora clearly knows it, based on the way her lip peels back in another snarl. “And if you even try to weasel out of this, I’ll personally ensure the Absolute devours you and your precious asset whole.”

It’s an empty threat and he knows it, but the flash of terror in Mizora’s eyes at Eden’s words tells him she believes him wholeheartedly. Good.

Mizora averts her gaze, clearly unsettled, and turns away from Eden to look at Wyll. “You’d better move quickly, pup,” she barks, desperate to cling to whatever power she has left in this situation. Eden decides to allow it, for now. “Looks as though we’re both on a time limit.”

Before Eden can examine her parting words, she disappears as swiftly as she arrived, the illusion melting into a puddle of black ichor on the stone floor. In seconds, the muck evaporates, leaving behind nothing more than a dark stain, a smudge of shadow in the flickering firelight.

The moment she’s gone, Eden lets out a breath of his own, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly. His heart pounds something fierce in his chest, his victory over Mizora lighting a fire in his veins just as much as it fills him with pure, exhaustive relief.

“I…” Wyll begins behind him, swallowing audibly. “Eden, I… Not that I’m not grateful, but why-”

“If you want to beat a devil, you have to beat them at their own game,” Eden says simply. He suddenly feels deeply uncertain, and he shifts as he crosses his arms. “And, well… you’re my friend. I’m tired of her making you play alone, so I’m gonna help you beat her.” That’s half the truth, anyway.

Eden turns his head to look at Wyll, and he’s nearly taken aback by the man’s expression of pure, unabashed awe. Wyll is looking at him like he’s the most remarkable creature in the world. There’s something else in his eyes, something else that Eden can’t quite identify, but the expression makes something stir deep inside Eden’s chest.

“We’re not out of the weeds yet,” he continues, smiling bashfully, “but this is a start. We’ll just have to make sure Mizora upholds her en-”

Before Eden can finish his sentence, Wyll surges forward and wraps his arms around the smaller man, pulling him into a tight embrace. Eden freezes in surprise, his words dying in his throat as Wyll buries his face in the tiefling’s neck. It takes a moment for him to realize that Wyll’s shoulders are shuddering, ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” Wyll says, his voice watery with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

There’s a million things Eden could say in response. But instead, after the briefest moment of hesitation, he just hugs Wyll back, holding his friend gently.