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redtsundere-writes · 1 month

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Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 9: Defense

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 2931 words.

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“A knight of gigantic height, a pagan hero with great strength and benevolent heart, very skilled at handling weapons, his name was... Fie..." You brought the book up close to your face to read the unknown word.

A couple of days had passed since you became King Sukuna's future fiancée and started your private lessons with Master Kenjaku. Your cleaning days were over and you were slowly getting used to the new routine that the king had imposed on you. Everyday, you got up early to dress up with the finest clothes he had gotten you, had the delicacies Uraume prepared for breakfast, studied the rest of the day in the library until your hands got tired of writing, ate lunch, took your piano lessons and reported to the king what you had learned at the end of the day. Sukuna wanted to know if bringing a traitor from distant lands to be your tutor had been worth it.

Spending all day stuck in the library wasn't the best thing in the world, but it was more comfortable than running around the castle, doing chores. Even though you still couldn't read that well, you could enjoy books in other ways. You liked being surrounded by unfamiliar covers, smelling the yellowish paper and the sound of the inked pen gently grasping the paper. You had never been to school, but it felt like going to a high prestige one. Even though the king had asked you not to waste your teacher's time, you liked to take it at your own pace because what is well learned, is never forgotten.

Kenjaku was a very polite and formal teacher. Always speaking with elegance and with gestures typical of his character. He never tired of talking at his own calm, almost seductive pace. Sometimes he used complicated words, but never got annoyed when you interrupted him to explain a definition of a word. He was enthusiastic about mentally challenging you so that your mind would be nourished with valuable information. Your journey of exploring the world was just beginning and he would take you by the hand so you wouldn't get lost in the confusions of life.

“Fierabras,” Kenjaku completed the word you were trying to read.

“Yeah. That. Fierabras,” you smiled as you read the whole word.

“Although it is a proper noun. It is also used to describe a big, strong and boastful person,” the teacher explained.

“So would it be okay to say, ‘King Sukuna is a fierabras curse’?” You asked innocently. Kenjaku laughed at your quick thinking. After his reaction, you realized what you had said and covered your mouth, surprised of yourself.

“Yes, well implemented,” he said, trying to not burst out laughing.

You were intuitive and curious. Even though you were constantly wrong, you didn't let that break your optimistic spirit. Kenjaku has had no problem having you as a student so far. In fact, you were the easiest student he had ever had to deal with. He was about to tell you to keep reading, but the library door burst open. You both opened your eyes in surprise to see who it was. It was only three o'clock in the afternoon, a strange time for the king to show up at this side of the castle. You and Kenjaku immediately bowed to his presence.

“I want you on the parade ground in 10 minutes,” Sukuna ordered before closing the door so they could finish the class as soon as possible.

“Do you think he heard me?” You whispered to Kenjaku worried.

“Are you religious?” You shook your head. “Then choose a god and pray to him that he didn’t,” Kenjaku advised you. That didn't sound good.

The red sky radiated in its entirety as soon as you stepped out of the castle. The grass tickled your feet half exposed by heels. You lifted your yellow dress to keep the edges from being dyed green. King Sukuna and Uraume were waiting impatiently for you in the middle of the parade ground, next to a large wooden table that held several artifacts you were unfortunately familiar with.

“Good afternoon, my king,” you bowed shyly to the strange encounter.

“You know I have many enemies who want to kill me, right?” he asked, completely ignoring your greeting. You were already used to his characteristic cold demeanor. “I'll teach you how to defend yourself from today on,” he explained before guiding his gaze to the table next to him. “Pick a weapon.”

On the wooden table there were several weapons. Your gaze traveled among the imposing objects from left to right. There was a sword, a set of blades, a double-edged ax, a pair of pistols and a bow with their respective arrows. You had never been so close to the weapons before and the fact that they were an arm's length away made you a little uncomfortable. With all of them you could get hurt if you weren't careful enough. You decided to take the least threatening weapon.

Your fingers molded into the hilt of the wooden bow. For a wooden artifact, it was heavier than it looked. You took it in both hands and examined it carefully to familiarize yourself with its large size. It was halfway down your body. The end of both tips were curved back. The jagged yellowish lines in the wood denoted that it had been polished recently.

“Good choice. A long and medium range weapon. Versatile, once you know how to use it.” Sukuna smiled with satisfaction. “Uraume, bring me my bow,” he ordered the white-haired servant without taking his eyes off you. They bowed and ran to the weapon chamber.

Sukuna helped you put the quiver on your back, the arm guard and the leather glove to start practicing. He placed the quiver carefully against your back, the arm guard on your recessive arm and the glove on your dominant hand. His hands helped you with all the patience in the world so as not to hurt you with his claws. The white feathers of the arrows stuck out behind your head and you held the bow awkwardly. You never thought you would have to learn to fight, but now you had to do it no matter what and do it well. Uraume soon appeared with the gigantic king's bow. It was three times as big so that it could be used by both pairs of arms at the same time and its arrows were longer so that he could shoot them comfortably.

“The most important thing in archery is the stance. You must keep your back straight and your elbow at the level of your chin to create an imaginary straight line,” Sukuna explained as soon as Uraume handed him what he had asked for.

You watched carefully as he placed the arrow on the upper arrow rest. He snapped the feathered end against the string and stretched it to create tension. At the end of the parade ground, servants were busy setting up straw targets for practice. The king was focused on his target, the bright yellow center. He brought his face close to the string to get a better view of where the arrow should be aimed. All was silent. His T-stance was perfect and his breathing was calm. He unexpectedly turned on his waist to change the desired trajectory of your arrow and released the string.

Your surprised gaze traveled along with the arrow, which stuck directly into the head of one of the servants. You closed your eyes and turned to look away. The servant left alive screamed at the top of her lungs and ran away in panic from the potential danger. You clenched your bow in frustration as you watched him calmly take someone's life. It was unfair. Her sin had been to be an easy prey to kill.

“Excellent shot,” Uraume applauded. Sukuna relaxed his body and looked at you.

“Your turn," he ordered. The time had finally come for you to kill someone? “You can try with the target,” Sukuna advised you as if he could read your anxious mind.

“Oh okay…” You mumbled in relief before exchanging places with him.

You held the bow with your dominant hand and placed the arrow in its respective place as he had taught you. Now came the most complicated part, aiming and shooting. You pulled the string and focused on the yellow dot in front of you. Being heavier than you thought, your arm got tired quickly and started to twitch. You tried to maintain the perfect T-posture, but it seemed impossible. You let go of the string, causing your arm to recoil backwards from the shock. The arrow swung through the air and missed the bull's-eye completely. You sighed in defeat as you saw the arrow stuck in the grass.

“You need to raise your elbow higher,” Sukuna approached you to show you how to shoot.

He grabbed you by the waist with his lower hands. Your breath hitched at having him so close to you. With his upper hands, he forced your back upright. He straightened your elbow at your chin, made sure the rope didn't hit your nose and held your hand over the grip. Your heart jumped like crazy in your chest. You could hardly pay attention to the situation you couldn't control.

“Take a deep breath,” he commanded in your ear as he held the bow for you.

You felt the warmth of his body slowly envelop yours, keeping you from the cold outside. You took a mouthful of air in the hope that it would cool your body somehow. It didn't work, but it did help you focus better. You hadn't felt this nervous around the king in a long time. By this point, you thought you were used to it, but you hadn't been. Unlike other run-ins on past occasions, this time you weren't nervous about not knowing if he would kill you or not. You didn't even want to walk away from him even though all the alerts in your mind were asking you to.

“The trick is to let go of the rope. You must not only let go, you must let go and then realize that you let go. It must be a gentle and subtle movement,” Sukuna advised you.

You nodded, returning to the present moment. Sukuna counted backwards from three so that you both let go of the rope at the same time. You tried to relax your hand to follow his advice. Let the string do what it had to do on its own. Let it go until you lost the tension between your three fingers. As you reached one, you both lost the contact between your fingers and let go of the string on the bow. The arrow flew until it hit the bright center.

“Now it's your turn," Sukuna ordered, stepping away from your body to watch you do it on your own.

“Okay," you muttered shyly, disappointed that he had stepped away so soon.

"Come on, you can do it!" You self-motivated yourself before bringing the bow back up to draw with the ready to be shot arrow. You pressed your hand against the grip in an attempt to steady the imaginary line the arrow was to travel. You took a deep breath and focused on the middle of the target. You relaxed the fingers that pulled the string, one by one, until the arrow was no longer between your fingers. The arrow traveled until it stuck above the center of the target. It wasn't a perfect shot, but it was a good start.

“Good job, miss,” Uraume congratulated you as they clapped softly. You smiled at them in appreciation.

“If you keep it up, you'll master it in no time,” Sukuna encouraged you. “For now, this will be your bow. You will have to learn how to use it, take care of it and keep it with you all the time. Then, I will get you a special one.”

“A special one? What's wrong with this one?” You asked in confusion.

“The bow in your hands is a common hunting bow. In case of an invasion, you will need a cursed bow that allows you to use special arrows to kill curses and use it against sorcerers.” Sukuna explained.

“And what should I do if I ran out of cursed arrows?” You asked curiously.

“Good question,” Sukuna said before taking his bow. “The bow can also function as a defense weapon.”

The king twirled the bow like a spear in his hands. You looked at him in shock as you watched him dance on his own axis while pretending to shoot down shadow enemies. He pushed and pierced the bodies of his unseen opponents. Come to think of it, you had never seen him fight. He always used his cursed techniques to get rid of someone. It was impressive to see someone as big as him move with such agility. He threw the bow into the air spinning it to catch your attention. When it fell, Sukuna caught it in his hands and pointed it at your throat. The tip came within inches of your chin, causing you to back away. Sukuna laughed at the sight of your frightened face.

“Did I scare you? You should be used to it by now,” Sukuna scoffed before digging the bow against the ground so it would stand straight. “I'll teach you hand-to-hand fighting later. For now, let's stick with the bow so you can get used to it. The secret is in the repetition,” you nodded obediently before placing an arrow between the stabilizer and the string again. Sukuna folded his arms to watch you very carefully as he always did.

The morning breeze clung to the window of the king's room. Droplets from condensation were slowly falling down the window in a race to fade away at the end. The mornings were cold and calm until King Sukuna rose. His huge head was sunk between the pillows, while the rest of his splendid body was covered by the plush blankets. His soft snoring was the only thing that could be heard in the room. Like the purr of a cat in its seventh sleep of the day. The sun was slowly peeking over the mountains of the valley and Uraume approached his room at a determined pace to let him know.

“Breakfast is almost ready, your majesty,” Uraume woke him from the other side as they knocked on the door from the other side.

“I'm coming," Sukuna grunted. With that, Uraume hurried back to the kitchen.

She sat on the edge of the bed to wake herself up. He twisted his torso and neck to thunder them completely. He scrubbed the lashes from his eyes as he went over to the closet to find what he would wear that day. He grabbed one of his many robes and reached for the sleeve to tuck in his arm. Sukuna looked out the window to watch the sun rise, but was surprised to find a more pleasant sight.

That morning, you had woken up earlier than usual. You tied a ribbon in your hair and went out, still in your pajamas, to the parade ground to practice your bow skills. You pulled a couple of straw targets with what little strength you had, since you knew that all the servants were still asleep and no curse would want to help you. You set up the equipment on your own to start practicing. You applied all the advice that King Sukuna had given you. You controlled your breathing, held the T-position and repeated over and over again. The morning breeze tickled your skin, but that didn't stop you from practicing.

Your hair fluttering softly against the morning air, your back erect and your hands gently gripping the bow was something Sukuna didn't think he would see so early in the morning. He paused his morning routine to watch you through one of the clear parts of the window. He felt like a stalker, even though he knew he had every right to see you, even though he found the idea that you didn't know he was watching you fascinating. He could see you in your natural state. No pressure, no fear, no fakeness. It was just you in the midst of a dastardly world.

You let the string go and the arrow flew to rest on the white bull's-eye shore. You looked up at the sky and sighed in disappointment at your performance as you missed the target again. Sukuna smiled to see you so frustrated. He thought it was cute the way you kept trying again and again until you finally succeeded. It didn't matter if it took you days, weeks or months, you would be the best archer the king had ever seen to fulfill his whims.

When you ran out of arrows in your quiver, so you approached the target to get them back. You hung the bow on the target while you were barely pulling out all the stuck arrows. You were only pulling arrows out of a pile of straw, but Sukuna kept watching you mesmerized as if you were the most interesting thing in the world. He soon realized that his heart was beating a mile a minute again. He touched his chest to feel the rapid palpitations and his smile faded as he realized what was happening. He didn't have heart trouble, his heart was in trouble.

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the-queer-demon · 1 year

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every so often i hear people talk about the "loud" queer people and how annoying they are and I always think

I think of the first time I saw a trans woman in the aisle of a convenience store. i was 8 years old and had no idea what i was but in that moment i felt like i understood her more than anyone else i'd seen.

i think of the first time i saw two men kiss in a movie. my parents wouldnt let me watch it because it was "inappropriate," but i snuck in anyway and I wondered for the first time if not all boys liked to kiss girls.

i think of the first pride parade i've ever seen. barely aware of who i was and too scared to admit it to myself, i watched thousands of people celebrate their identity, in the face of overwhelming hatred. a drag queen handed me a rainbow sticker from across a police barrier. i think she knew.

i think of when i was 15 and began to change how i presented. i dyed my hair and dressed more androgynously. it was a baby step, and i was terrified of how people would see me. and so many people looked at me differently, but there were kids that looked so familiar, who looked at me and saw a friend.

i think of when i got a roommate for the first time, and tried desperately to pass so i wouldn't make her uncomfortable. she clocked me immediately and asked for my pronouns. she was the first queer person i'd ever dated.

i think of when i was buying soda at a convenience store a few weeks ago. i was so used to dressing gnc that i almost forgot it was strange to most people. i saw a little kid an aisle over, gaping at me. not hatred or ignorance, but curiosity and questioning, and maybe? maybe a little understanding of who i really was.

and i think about all the people that are uncomfortable with these displays, who say it's not right to show in public. and i think that maybe that's the point. because for every 10 people who look at me and see a disgusting tranny, maybe there's one person who feels a little safer. and i think that's worth it in the end

#not to get so emotional #t slur #just feeling poetic

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laylajeffany · 4 months

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Their Own Kind of Pride | Wenclair Microfic

Sitting in an airport experiencing an act of homophobia because Delta has delayed my flight FIVE TIMES and it's the only thing keeping me from kissing my girlfriend for the first time in seven weeks. DURING PRIDE MONTH? Actually - I've got really complicated feelings on that - so here's a 2.5k microfic that is set in the Murder, She Woe universe about six months into Wednesday and Enid's move to Grisly Cove. How I wrote this in the most overstimulating environment after an hour at the airport bar - I don't know. A pride miracle I guess.

Rated: G TW: Talk about complicated feelings surrounding pride

“Should we order a rainbow flag?”

Wednesday stared at her wife with unblinking eyes, trying to determine if she was serious or not. Enid cringed, glancing to the side. “I mean…it’s fine, we don’t have to do that!”

One – the clashing colors, two the display of pride…oh. Was that more of the problem, other than the colors? Wednesday took a brief look inward as she tried to determine which was more of a reflection of her feeling about such a flag. Generally – she was against any sort of show of patriotism or allegiance. She didn’t need anyone to know where she stood on anything by looks alone.

Wednesday tilted her head, wanting more information before outright rejecting Enid. “Tell me what your thoughts are in wanting to hang a flag that represents the LGBTQIA+ community in front of our home.”

“Um…we’re gay?” Enid offered, then let out a giggle. “And June is like – somehow, only three days away. This year is slipping between my fingers, I swear – if I had like, fully realized summer was this close, I would have been making very different choices in my workout routine -”

“Say a negative comment about your body and I’m going to take you to the bedroom and write poetry over every part. And not in the kinky way you want,” Wednesday said, pulling a dip pen out of seemingly nowhere. Enid pouted. “You have a body, and you’re going to put a bikini on it – therefore, you have a bikini body. I want to see you in your little triangles, barely covering you with your little silly strings holding them together. Don’t you dare take that away from me.”

Enid flushed.

“Back to the topic at hand,” Wednesday glanced up from the piece of steak she had been neatly slicing into which she’d seared to rare perfection for her wife – medium-well for herself. “Why would you want to display a pride flag?”

“It feels like the right thing to do,” Enid replied as she looked to the side. “I mean…we’ve never…done any pride stuff, together. I obviously never dated any girls before you – so, it’s not like I did any on my own. Now that we finally have our own place, I thought maybe…but we don’t have to. For real, I just – was…putting it into the universe.”

Wednesday bit her lip. Pride in the strange, touristy-town they’d moved into six months prior was about to be A Big Deal. She had seen the advertisements, on her occasional trip into town – and Enid was already working overtime at the establishment she’d secured a gig in, which was absolutely rainbow-inspired. Sighing, she wondered, “Are you anticipating participating in any of the downtown events?”

“I mean…I don’t know – when I say that I just realized it was about to be June, I’m totally not just saying that.” Enid sighed, trying not to inhale her food as she spoke. Wednesday twitched – she always waited too long to eat…especially so close to a full moon…she wished her wife would take better care of herself –

“Are you expected to participate in the parade, of all things, with your workplace?” Wednesday wondered, unable to keep a disgusted sort of grimace off her face.

Enid rolled her eyes. “We’re not required to…but…” She bit her lip. “I kind of…I kind of want to.”

“You already work at a gay bar, Enid.” Wednesday could barely comprehend what was going on during their dinner hour (four o’clock in the afternoon, that Thursday – Enid had to work). “Do you want to be made a spectacle of?”

“Well – that’s…kind of what I’m hoping, generally, Wednesday – you know I love it there, you know I want to…maybe be in the show someday, I don’t know how, I mean…it’s not like I have an act, but…yeah, I’d like to be in the parade with my work friends.”

Friends…right. Enid had made a host of those.

“Okay,” Wednesday said and then could’ve practically gulped as she wondered, “Do you…want me to…watch?”

Enid managed to smile again and shook her head. “No, you don’t have to take yourself to a parade, Wednesday. Though it does feel like the optimal time for someone to be unsuspectingly pick-pocketed. Maybe you could go and observe petty crime and get some inspiration for your novel.”

“I have plenty of inspiration,” She said, somehow – avoiding a massive subject.

“So, I’ll take it – that’s a ‘you do you’ on the parade, and a hard ‘no’ on the flag?” Enid asked after a full minute of quiet.

“Enid,” Wednesday placed her knife and fork down, deciding she was going to make a very bold decision in that moment. “I have never felt like I belonged in any community. This community – you and I…maybe with the addition of some of our old outcast friends from school…that’s all the community I’ve ever needed.” Enid nodded her head – going along with whatever Wednesday wanted…

…but that was not what Wednesday wanted.

“I said I…not we,” She cautioned, leaning forward a little bit, wishing she hadn’t tossed her hair in braids that morning – so she’d have looked more…mature, when delivering such an assured monologue. “You have always enjoyed belonging. It’s always been important to you to be a part of something that is bigger than yourself.” Enid swallowed and looked to the side – her eyes were visibly misting over. Hardly able to stand it, Wednesday reached for her hand. “That is not a bad thing. That is a normal thing. That is what people are supposed to want – to be part of life with other people.” Wednesday rolled her eyes a little, squeezing her hand instead of withdrawing her own like she wanted to. “I wish I wanted to be part of life with other people,” She said in almost a whisper. “Just because I need to hide in the shadows doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let the sun shine on you. If you want to order a rainbow flag, we will hang it on the front porch. Perhaps we should get two – to hang one from the back for the boats that enjoy riding around the cape to see as well.”

Enid blinked out twin tears that she could clearly not avoid. Wednesday’s internal guilt meter (that only ever activated when Enid was involved) intensified. “Enid,” She sternly called for her to explain when a full minute of silence passed. Her wife almost never stopped talking – and she was going to choose then to be quiet? “What are you thinking?”

“Just…that…I’m…really happy, that you think it would be okay to hang that flag.”

Defying her body’s urge to drop her shoulders in a most dramatic sigh, Wednesday gave a curt nod. She waited, for more…and when none came, she decided to finish cutting her steak.

They ate in not uncomfortable quiet, but…there was obviously more to say. As Wednesday took Enid’s plate upon finishing, she felt her grip her wrist. “Um…I’m going to…I need…” Enid let out a near whimper. “Can we go talk, for a minute?”

Wednesday swallowed a lump in her throat that was far from unexpected, though that didn’t mean she could tolerate it. She made sure her face didn’t betray her and stiffly followed Enid to the living room, where their new-ish sofa looked way too comfortable for the discomfort that Wednesday had swirling in her gut.

She sat on the edge of an ottoman and Enid paced for a bit in front of her, clearly working up nerve and courage. After so much time passed that Wednesday thought she was going to get motion sick from watching her turn and pace and turn and pace, Wednesday gripped her wrist, forcing Enid to suck in a breath. “Don’t be afraid to tell me what’s on your mind. I want to hear it. Even if I disagree – I’m not going to rebuke you, Enid.”

Enid collapsed into a puddle of tears beside her. Fully unsure why, Wednesday tapped into the part of her brain that was responsible for demonstrating her very limited scope of affection, almost all of which was reserved for her wife. Curling an arm around her and tucking her close, she let Enid get her shirt collar all wet as she unexpectedly heaved another sob. Wednesday almost felt a flutter of fear in her chest as she waited for Enid to clam enough to express what the tears were all about.

It was some time – a long time. Whatever Enid had been holding in, related to that damn rainbow flag…she’d been holding it in for a long time.

Finally, after her heart was about to hammer right out of her chest in anticipation of what her wife would say, Wednesday tried not to look relieved when she started speaking.

“When my mother rejected me…” Enid sniffed. “I knew – it wasn’t…just because of this. It was just…maybe…” She shivered – her face so blotchy and red, Wednesday really…just – surprisingly, almost wanted to take her to bed and…cuddle and hug her until it cleared.

Enid tried talking again, but her words got stuck in her throat. She practically choked as she tried to speak. “Enid, come here,” Wednesday insisted, scooting back into the corner of the sofa and opening her arms. Enid nodded, crawling onto the cushions and into them, the sigh she released like a deflating balloon. Wednesday rubbed a hand up and down her back, kissing her temple three times. Enid let out a near coo, then, nuzzling her face into Wednesday’s neck. “Do you want me to call your jerk of a boss?” She whispered, “Tell him you’re not well?”

“No,” She muttered. “I want to go to work. I like work. I just…want to tell you about why this is so important to me, first, okay? And – we can totally cuddle until then, I’ll find a drag queen to coverup any hives left on my face when I get there.”

Rubbing her back again, Wednesday nodded, kissing her one last time. Enid shifted, so she could look up at her, practically cradled in her hug. “Finding out that I loved you was the nail in the coffin, for my relationship with my mom, for my standing in my old pack. You know that.” Wednesday tried not to think about it – that she was the ultimate reason that Enid’s mother had cast her only daughter aside… “For so long…I felt like…this part of me, the…interested in girls part of me was…was…like a curse, almost. There wasn’t a single thing I’d ever done to meet my mom’s expectations – and then…I went and defied gender norms and expectations, too.”

Wanting to rebuttal, but holding her tongue, Wednesday let Enid finish. “And…I don’t know – I never felt, like…ashamed or anything, because I am attracted to women, because I love you – I literally would tell anyone that we’re married. Sometimes against your will,” Enid giggled a little, obviously thinking back to their honeymoon when she managed to get them free drinks everywhere they went for her inability to keep the news to herself. “But…I’ve also never celebrated it. I’ve never taken the time to think about the fact that – hey, a lot of people struggled for us to be able to legally do this – to be together, to be in love – that…so many people worked for so long to make marriages like ours legal. And there’s so much more to it – I’m learning so much at my new job…but – Wednesday, I think…I think I’m just…I’m proud of myself, for the first time, in this way.”

Nodding, Wednesday was proud of her for being proud of herself. She might not share the sentiment - but, she could celebrate her wife.

“I want to walk in the parade, because I’m not ashamed of who I am and who I love. But I also don’t want you to feel like – you are, because you’re not interested in participating? I don’t know, now this all feels complicated and kind of icky…”

Cupping her cheek, Wednesday tilted her own head. “Look at me, dead in the eye. Not for one single second do I feel…icky,” She parroted her own word back to her, “Because you want to march in a gay pride parade. I don’t feel embarrassed, and I don’t feel shame.”

Enid bit her lip, looking conflicted. “But…I know it’s hard – can you tell me what do you feel about it, Wednesday?”

She gave a genuine shrug. “I don’t feel anything about it. If it will make you happy, if this is how you want to express yourself, then I want you to do it!” She almost shouted the ending and Enid blinked a few times in apparent surprise at the tone she was using. “I just…I just…”

Enid took a turn to put a hand on her face, clearly making sure her eyes didn’t wander to the side, but stayed locked on hers. “Tell me.”

“I…don’t know, Enid. You know that rainbows are never going to be my thing. There is just not a universe where I can put a rainbow flag in my fist and go walking down the street with it. That’s not me. I don’t experience pride in that way.”

“But…you are proud, aren’t you?”

“I’m proud of myself,” Wednesday declared, “For opening myself up to love, to the person who deserves love more than anyone else I have ever known.”

At that, Enid’s eyes welled up again.

“I’m not interested in a parade. I’m indifferent to a flag on the house. But I am proud, every time I walk out of the door with you – Enid,” She almost smiled. “I’m proud of being behind these doors with you. I’m proud of everything that happens on this couch – I’m proud of being able to snuggle with you like this, and all the things that I’ve allowed myself to engage in in our bedroom…Enid,” She did smile then. “I do have pride. It might not be the corporate, parade-going, deals-at-the-bar while Lady BlahBlah or whoever plays way too loud kind of pride. But – I’m proud of myself, for being open to love with you.”

Enid attacked her in a kiss as she straddled her suddenly, then held onto her so tight – it was almost difficult to breathe. Wednesday gripped her just as tightly back, hoping that she’d successfully conveyed what she needed to.

When Enid pulled back for another kiss, much sweeter that time, and rubbed a hand along her collar bone, she let out a breath of relief. They’d both understood one another, keenly. They both had pride, in their own way. “Enid, I will come to the parade to watch you. So long as you don’t expect me to wave a flag or dance. But when it’s over, I’ll be there to kiss you, and tell you about how I disassociated a vivid scene for my book about a horrible act taking place at such a function.”

Giving a full laugh and a very proud smile, Enid kissed the side of her cheek. “Maybe we just hang one flag on the house instead of two. That might be overkill.”

“One flag sounds acceptable,” Wednesday agreed, squeezing her hip – thinking…if Enid really worked her over – perhaps she’d even show up for a single night in June at her club…a Tuesday though - not a weekend, and not during that ridiculous show. The only way she’d ever drag herself to such an event would be if Enid were the shining star of it – and since she didn’t even have an act, Wednesday was sure, she’d never find herself spending more time at the club than she wanted to.

#wednesday 2022 #wenclair #pride #one-shot #the plane literally just arrived as I finished reading this #it looks like it's only a hate crime because I hated it #layla's >5k challenge #murder she woe #needless to say barely edited #enjoy this is the only sort of pride stuff I can manage bc I feel like Wednesday :)

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nebulablakemurphy · 1 year

Text

Moves & Countermoves (Part 13)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing. Trigger warning: discussions of trauma surrounding ‘desirable victors’ and mentions of sex.

The tribute parade is a glimmer of hope after a losing streak. Capitol citizens screaming and chanting for Katniss as the chariots are drawn out for display. Even the elites are vying to sponsor the star crossed lovers, who saved their mentors and the sweet little baby in Y/N’s womb.

There is no waving or smiling this year, at Cinna’s request.

“Way to make friends out there, you two.” Haymitch waves over Peeta and Katniss once they dismount the carriage.

“Well, we learned from the best,” Katniss shoots back.

“I want to introduce you to some special friends of mine, this is Chaff and Seeder.”

Seeder smiles in acknowledgment.

While Chaff closes the distance between them, giving Katniss a kiss on each cheek; then pulling away in a fit of laughter.

She is caught off guard, dismay painted across her features.

“He’s very friendly.” Haymitch chuckles, clapping his friend once on the back. “But don’t invite him over, he’ll drink up all your liquor.”

Y/N approaches with Cashmere and Gloss in tow, as if Finnick introducing himself with the sugar cube, before the parade, hadn’t been enough.

“There she is,” Chaff opens his arms, “come here.”

Y/N smiles, slinking around the side to greet him, for what might be the last time.

“It’s good to see you, baby.” He tells her, in earnest. For a minute there, I thought you were coming in with us.

“Good to see you.” She pulls away, giving Seeder a quick hug. Tears welling up in her eyes, without permission.

The older woman taps her chin, when they break apart. “Don’t you cry.”

“We wanted to come introduce ourselves,” Cashmere explains. “I’m Cashmere, this is my brother, Gloss.”

“We’ve heard nothing but good things.” Peeta says, truthfully.

“Pleasure,” Gloss grins, extending a hand to Peeta, allowing his sister to mirror the gesture with Katniss. Moving in perfect synchronization, like a well oiled machine.

“And to thank you,” Cashmere squeezes Katniss’ hand.

“For what?” Katniss wonders.

“Saving my friend.”

You love her too. The realization sits heavy in Katniss’ chest.

“Alright, let’s go get some of that makeup off you.” Haymitch spares Katniss from farther floundering.

They move into the elevator, just the victors of district twelve, until a hand slips in to stop the doors from closing.

Johanna she struts in with a heavy sigh, pressing the button for the seventh floor. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Katniss responds, under her breath.

“My stylist is an idiot.” Johanna tosses her bracelets to the ground. “District seven, lumber…I’d love to bury my axe in her face.” She shuffles closer to Peeta, moving her, long, red, ponytail over her shoulder. “Unzip?”

“Sure.” Peeta stammers, earning him a death glare from Katniss.

Johanna does not look away as she strips down to nothing, without preamble.

Katniss’ mouth is slightly ajar, Peeta’s lips set in a nervous smile.

“Not in front of the children,” Y/N gasps, rushing to hold a hand over both sets of eyes.

“Come on, you know you like this.” Johanna chirps, playfully.

“I remember when mine used to sit up like that.” Y/N cranes her neck to meet Johanna’s gaze, “enjoy it.”

“Cry me a river, you’re a walking wet dream.” Johanna rolls her eyes.

Haymitch is strangely silent, enjoying their banter.

Whether they are fighting or flirting, Katniss cannot tell. In any event, she’s glad when the elevator dings on the seventh floor.

“That was fun, let’s do it again sometime.” Johanna grins, quite pleased with herself as she exits.

“Johanna Mason, district seven.”

————————————————————————

“Explain to me exactly how this is going to work.” Y/N whispers, beneath the spray of the water.

Whoever is tasked with monitoring the audio from their room, in the tribute center, must think they have the highest libidos in Panem. Though they are here to exchange information, they are also in the shower, nude, at very close proximity.

“Plutarch has access to the trackers, he can override the information.” Haymitch allows his eyes to close, at the feel of familiar fingers in his hair. “Cannon goes off while the tribute is still alive. They are extracted by the crane, from the hovercraft, same as always. One by one. Ideally, Katniss and Peeta near the end, Snow will want to see their bodies for himself. By the time he realizes what’s happened, everybody is safe, underground, in thirteen.”

“What about twelve? First thing he’ll do is retaliate.”

“We have open lines of communication, we’ll be able to warn them.”

Y/N nods, in understanding. His lips are on hers then and they are no longer pretending.

————————————————————————

Keeping this secret from Katniss and Peeta is easier than Y/N anticipated. They assume she is distancing herself out of self preservation, reverting to the calculated woman they’d met on the train last year. Neither of them blame her.

They score twelves during individual assessment, painting even larger targets on their backs. And tonight, the last night before the games, they are prepping for their interviews with Caesar.

Katniss is almost certain that the master of ceremonies will ask about her volunteering. She does not regret it, even now, she would do it again in a heartbeat. No one deserves a happy ending more than you. Katniss hates that she is being laced back into Y/N’s wedding dress.

“I think you’re going to be happy with the alterations.” Cinna fluffs up the layers of fabric.

Haymitch downs his drink, drowning the vision of his sweet girl in the dress; squeezing his fingers when it hurt too much. The way she shook like a leaf beneath him, “it’s just you and me.” She is still after that, steady; allowing him to bring her pleasure she has never known.

Crying when it is finished, because he locked himself in the bathroom to vomit. Sick over what he had done to keep her safe, while she thought he was disgusted by something she’d done.

Apologizing profusely when he returns. “Haymitch, I- I was just nervous. Not because of you…I’m sorry it wasn’t, I’m sorry you didn’t like it. I’ll do better next time.”

His heart seizes, thrumming to an unbearable ache. “It’s nothing you did. Please never think that I-” Haymitch stumbles over the words. Evidence of his ‘enjoyment’ is mixed with her blood on the sheets, rolling forth a fresh wave of nausea. “Like you said, it’s not because of you. It’s everything else.” Snow and the cameras and-

Y/N knows how much he’s already given up, the deals he made for her. “I still want it to be real someday.”

Their marriage, their love story.

“You tell me when it’s real, and I’ll ask you to marry me again.” No more rushing, no more bullshit.

“Promise?”

��I promise.” Haymitch swears. I’m getting you out of here. No matter how long it takes, I’m getting you out.

They are no longer in that room, trapped beneath the mechanical whirl of the cameras. They are here, with Y/N’s arms around his waist, one hand resting over his heart. Holding him where it hurts, because she understands him better at thirty than she could at nineteen. This dress is a prison, he hopes the girl on fire lights it up.

“These victors are angry, Katniss. They’ll say anything to try and stop the games, I suggest you do the same.”

When it is her turn to be interviewed, the audience is enamored at the sight.

“Welcome, Katniss Everdeen!” Caesar is humming with excitement. “Look at you, absolutely stunning.”

“Don’t go crying on me now, Caesar.” Katniss retorts.

“Oh, you know I can’t help it.”

“You know I wouldn’t believe you even if you did.”

“Ah ha ha, the girl on fire, so cheeky. I love it. Now, Katniss…on a more serious note, we’re all here a little disappointed, well more than a little, that a certain wedding will not be taking place.” Caesar laments, sharing his sorrow with the nation. “But here you are, in Y/N’s dress, the dress you would have worn. How do you think she feels, seeing you on stage tonight?”

“I hope that…” Katniss exhales. “I hope that she’s proud of me.” She searches beyond the blinding stage lights for Y/N, finding her in the sea of faces. She looks at Katniss the same way she always has, with love, sadness; something more. Perhaps it is pride.

“Awww.”

“I know she is,” Caesar nods. “It has been so beautiful to watch your story, to see this family you found. How you volunteered, first for your little sister and then to save your mentor. You are incredible. Would you do us the honor?”

The twirling.

Katniss finds Cinna, beside Y/N and Haymitch, catching his eye. He gives the go ahead and she begins to turn. The skirt of her dress igniting into flames, leaving a black and gray design in its wake. As fire reaches the top, it has transformed completely. Feathers at her shoulders spread with her arms. Wings.

The crowd rises from their seats, her mentors and stylist among them. Cinna has an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “for both of you.”

“Thank you,” she leans into him.

“It’s like….it’s like a-a bird! Like a-” Caesar racks his brain.

“Like a mockingjay,” Katniss finishes for him.

“Your stylist has certainly outdone himself. Cinna, take a bow.” Caesar turns the camera’s focus to the audience.

Cinna kisses his hand and holds it up, sending all his love to Katniss. When the applause has died down, she joins the other tributes, on the risers near the back of the stage.

Peeta is last, in a pristine white suit, designed to match his wife-to-be.

“So, Peeta, the wedding.” Caesar gets right down to business. “The marriage, never to be.”

“Actually, we got married. In secret.” Peeta says, captivating the crowd to a stunned silence.

“A secret wedding? Tell us more.”

“We want our love to be eternal, Katniss and I. We’ve been luckier than most and I wouldn’t have any regrets at all if-” Peeta breaks off. “If it weren’t…”

“If it weren’t for what, Peeta?” Caesar is all but holding his breath. “What?”

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Once again viewers are out of their seats.

“Baby!?!”

“Tell us more.”

“Well we knew that Y/N would be too far along and we all agreed that Katniss would have a better chance.” Peeta explains.

“Stop the games!” The cry heard around the Capitol, is resurgent and in full force. The victors of district twelve have not one baby at stake, but two.

“Alright now, this is news to all of us.” Caesar reminds the audience.

Their outrage echoes off the walls. “Stop the games!”

“We’re going to find out what we do about this.” Caesars attempts to stop the riot. He leans in to Peeta, asking him to go stand with the others. “It’s a great night.”

Peeta trots up the stairs to Katniss, embracing when they meet.

“Oh, my heart.” The woman behind Y/N leans over the seat. “That’s why you tried to stop her from volunteering. Because of the baby.”

Y/N nods, sniffling for effect. “I just can’t stop thinking about the babies.”

“Don’t worry, President Snow is a good man. He’ll get this figured out.” She rubs at her back.

The victors joining hands only serves to further rally the crowd. Together they watch as the lights cut off. Leaving them all in darkness.

————————————————————————

The deliberation is long, or Snow makes it out to be. Y/N, Haymitch and Effie wait, impatiently, on the bench with the other mentors. It was a good show, with a response better than they could’ve asked for. But in the end, the games are still on.

This is more or less the outcome Peeta and Katniss were expecting. Somehow that doesn’t make it any easier to deliver the news.

Haymitch has to hand it to Peeta, “baby bomb was a stroke of genius. Unfortunately, the games are still on.”

The room is still.

“This is goodbye for now.”

“Presents,” Effie reminds them, their tokens. “Bracelets for you two.”

Y/N opens her box, revealing a slightly thinner version of the bangle her husband’s been gifted.

“And for Peeta, the medallion we talked about.”

“Thank you, Effie.” Peeta hugs her, in parting.

This year is different. Mentors will not be seeing tributes to the hovercraft, only stylists. Presumably for the districts that only had two victors to begin with.

“Thank you, Y/N.” The boy finds her next and she squishes him to her properly.

“You’re welcome,” she sighs. Stay safe.

When it is Katniss’ turn to say goodbye, the girl on fire is struck by the realization that she cannot. Instead she buries her face in the woman’s shoulder.

“You can do this, Katniss.” Y/N passes a hand over her hair, “I believe in you.”

Katniss nods, “thank you.”

The five of them remain together for a while. Katniss and Peeta splinter off first, sending them all in different directions. Effie to her room, Y/N and Haymitch to opposite floors of the tribute center.

Y/N reaches the last level before ground. Cashmere is waiting, wringing her hands. “We almost did it,” stopped the games.

“This isn’t over yet,” Y/N reminds her. “I have something for you.”

Cashmere sighs, the rebel plan is a wild one and there’s no guarantee it will work in time.

Y/N turns over the gold bangle, “Katniss knows it’s mine. As long as she sees it, she’ll honor the alliance.”

“I’ll do what I can to keep her alive…the boy too.” Cashmere assures her.

“Keep you alive too, while you’re at it.” Please.

The blonde gives her a sad smile, “you know me.”

Part 14

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109

#the hunger games fanfiction #thg haymitch #the hunger games #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy fanfic #haymitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch abernathy #haymitch x y/n #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x yn #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #johanna mason

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clockwork-ashes · 6 months

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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part VI

Find Part I here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)

And a huge thank you to everyone reading!

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole

Part VII >>

Elain held tightly to Lucien’s arm, her fingers linked with his, her other hand clutching at his wrist. An anchor, his heartbeat a comfort as they were led down the winding halls of the ancient Forest House.

Lucien looked entirely unbothered, hardly troubled now that he was no longer in the presence of his family. Elain asked herself how, considering she very much felt as though she had woken from a nightmare. Her thoughts were foggy, her knees shaking in relief with every one of her steps. Elain wanted to sob.

Lucien’s thumb traced the curve of her knuckle and Elain breathed in deeply to calm her nerves.

It was almost humiliating, being paraded past the Autumn guards stationed at every corner as she clung to Lucien. She had to remind herself that it was expected of mated couples to behave so attached, that she was not amongst human nobles that would judge her for any open affection that was displayed.

Elain briefly wondered what Cora had done in her absence, and whether the other woman had been made aware of the change in their plans. Elain’s thoughts turned quickly, though, to what her sisters would say. Elain was sure that Nesta, more than Feyre, would be furious.

Elain assumed she would have the Inner Circle’s complete support, but she could only guess at their displeasure with how the night had unfolded.

Elain had told a High Lord that she was marrying his son, and she was only just beginning to realise the weight of such a promise. Elain felt her stomach flip, panic starting to creep along her spine.

Just when Elain’s anxiety started to take root, Lucien’s hand gripped hers more tightly. Elain felt as he tried to reassure her through the bond, and her annoyance was enough to redirect her thoughts.

The Forest House was strange and unlike any place she had ever been to. The rough stone walls were a warm grey, closer to the colour of sheep’s wool than to the cool toned rock she had become used to in Night.

Elain was surprised to see all the wooden furniture considering all the torches, flames dancing and sparks falling but never setting anything alight. She walked by a couple elegant fireplaces set into the walls, but she saw no chimneys, no soot or ashes.

Like the roots of an ancient tree, hallways connected and split off into different directions, an unnavigable maze. Elain wondered how anyone was able to find their way around.

One of the guards shoved Lucien towards a flight of stone steps, urging him to turn. Elain frowned when she felt him tense, thinking perhaps he had been offended by the gesture. It was only as a voice rang out beside them that Elain guessed Lucien had scented someone’s presence.

“Your services are no longer needed,” the words were rough, a demand. “I can take the prince and his lady to their shared suite from here.”

Much to Elain’s surprise, the guards obeyed. In the time it took for them to leave, Elain had turned her attention to the new arrival.

The man was handsome, Elain could admit. His short hair a more copper shade of red, his eyes a bright hazel. He was pale, like most of the people she had seen in Autumn, and he looked battle-worn. A slashing scar cut across his throat, just visible above the fabric of his jacket.

Even if Elain had not just been in a room with Beron Vanserra, she would have still been able to see the resemblance between the High Lord and the man who so obviously was another one of his sons. She took a step beck, knocking into Lucien’s side.

The man raised a brow, but other than a passing glance, he paid her no mind. His focus was on Lucien, the torches on the wall flared. Elain wondered if that always happened, if flames simply responded to those in Autumn, a reflection of their emotions.

“Where’s Eris?” He snapped, like he had no patience for either her or Lucien.

Her mate’s shoulders were stiff. “Is the loyal dog looking for its master?” Lucien’s drawl was taunting, as though he was expecting a reaction from his brother. His words were obviously meant to offend.

Elain could feel Lucien’s shock flooding the bond between them when his brother merely shook his head.

“You always did cause so much trouble, Lucien,” he frowned, looking very much like Eris. With a sigh, he angled his chin to the flight of stairs in front of them. “Follow me.”

Not like they had a choice, Elain thought. She could feel as Lucien turned to look at her, to check in, but she stared at his brother as he led them to a pair of thick oak doors. His attempt to comfort her was appreciated, but Elain truly thought she could not look at him without her anxiety once more taking hold. With a wave of his brother’s beringed hand, the doors opened to reveal a cosy space.

The fireplace was already lit, comfortable carpets covered the stone floor, and by the arched window on the room’s other side was a large bed, fit for two. Elain blushed, forgetting for a moment that Lucien and her were to be married, of course their shared suite would have only one bed.

Elain watched as Lucien’s brother waved his hand once again, this time lighting the candles littered on some of the wooden tables and nightstands. “I hope the rooms have been set to your liking. Should you need anything, let one of the guards know.”

Elain spoke for the first time since having left the throne room, “My lady’s maid was with me, I was wondering…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

“I’ll let Eris know,” the Autumn prince offered. “I’m sure he’s thought of everything.” There was no bitterness to his words, only an acknowledgement of his eldest brother’s very thorough planning.

Elain dipped her head in thanks, but he had already begun to leave. Elain looked to Lucien as he watched his brother warily, and he hardly seemed surprised when the other man paused at the room’s threshold.

“Congratulations to the both of you on your engagement,” he said flippantly, over his shoulder. Elain could hear a flicker of doubt in his tone, perhaps a suggestion that he was not entirely convinced by their act. She wondered if Eris had mentioned it to him, if they were close enough to have shared such information.

Elain noticed the irritation that flashed in Lucien’s eye, how the other one whirred. “Thank you, Callum.”

It was clear to Elain that there was bad blood between the brothers, and while she was curious, Elain also knew that it would probably be very rude to ask Lucien about it. She watched as Callum left, glad that she no longer needed to play the role she had given herself.

The doors slammed shut behind the Autumn prince, and Elain promptly let go of Lucien’s hand. She already missed the feeling, but to reach for him would be like an admission of how she so often longed for his touch when he was near. She put distance between them, almost tripping on the edge of the carpet in her rush.

“Gods,” she mumbled, running her fingers through her curls. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Lucien’s scent, apples and summer mornings, lingered in the air.

What have I done?

Elain decided that she was a fool for coming to Autumn. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into, had been so desperate to save Lucien’s life that she had doomed them both.

When Elain opened her eyes, she saw Lucien flexing his fingers, like the memory of her hand in his was enough to unsettle him. He had dark bruises along his jaw, clenched in what she thought was concern. There were blood stains, brown and aged, along the collar of his white shirt. A smear of dirt was on his temple and Elain could tell he had been treated poorly until she had come.

Lucien was still the loveliest man Elain had ever seen, and she hated herself for believing it.

“How in the hell did Feyre convince you to come for me?” Lucien asked, voice tired, like his own thoughts were weighing him down.

Elain furrowed her brow, frowning at him. “Feyre?” She echoed, incredulous.

At her question Lucien seemed to anger, only for a moment, before he spoke once more. “Rhysand, then, made you do this?”

“No one made me do anything,” Elain hissed, keeping her voice down, remembering how careful Eris was with his words even when they had been alone. “I came for you because I chose to.” She was frustrated, angry that everyone assumed she could not make decisions for herself. It was with great effort that she kept her hands at her sides, that she did not begin pointing at Lucien with an accusing finger.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Confusion and disbelief lingering in his words.

“Because I felt like it,” she snapped, feeling very much like a child. Elain did not share with him that after so much death, so much change in the last few years, she did not think she could bear more. “And you should be thanking me, not questioning my motives.”

Elain watched as he bent ever so slightly at the waist, the smallest of bows. He did not take his eyes off her as he said, “You have my thanks, Elain.”

At the sound of her name falling from Lucien’s lips, Elain took a step towards him, the movement almost involuntary. “You shouldn’t call me that,” the impropriety of it all had Elain blushing, she attempted to tell herself that was why she could feel her heartbeat quicken. “You don’t have the right—”

“I think I do,” Lucien said with a shrug, “considering we’re about to be married.”

It looked like he wanted to say more, but Elain interrupted. “It means nothing,” she was shocked at how snarled the last word was. “Nothing has changed between us,” her words held a finality to them.

Lucien ran a hand through his hair, “Not for one moment did I believe otherwise.” He sounded exhausted, Elain noticed.

Briefly, Elain felt guilty for being upset with him.

Lucien shook his head, and as he spoke he did not look at her. “You shouldn’t have come to Autumn.” Elain could not say it with certainty, but she could have sworn fear leaked slowly down their shared bond.

“Next time I’ll let you be killed,” Elain waved her hand dismissively. “What’s done is done, I can hardly tell your father I’ve changed my mind.”

“I think we’re well past that,” Lucien confirmed. The silence between them was awkward, and Elain wished they had separate rooms, despite knowing it was for the best that they were together.

She could feel Lucien’s gaze on her, but Elain was looking at the comfortable armchair by the fireplace. She cleared her throat, “You take the bed.”

Lucien did not argue with her, a testament to how utterly drained he must have been, Elain concluded.

“Thank you, Elain,” he said softly, sincerely.

Elain was left with the impression that Lucien was thanking her for more than just the bed.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #autumn court #vanserra brothers #they finally talk to each other alone #ashes writes sometimes #all you have is your fire

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sendpseuds · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday: Perfect Spiral

In honor of everyone being so helpful in my quest to find Anakin's perfect ass tattoo, we've got a pretty long snippet from the beginning of chapter three [Practice].

Extra special shout out to @amadwinter and @palfriendpatine66 whose suggestions I combined for the final ass tattoo design.

Enjoy 🖤

[PERFECT SPIRAL]

It’s not difficult to understand why the locker room is so often a setting found in porn.

A room full of men in peak physical condition, shamelessly stripping down to nothing but their naked flesh, standing beneath the steaming spray of the shower to wash sweat and hours of excretion from their skin.

On paper, it sounds downright erotic.

In reality, there is nothing even remotely sexy about a football locker room.

There is nothing seductive about several dozen flaccid dicks parading around.

Nothing arousing about catching an accidental eyeful of a teammate’s hairy ass crack.

There is absolutely fucking nothing enticing about that smell.

There is, however, something strangely, stupidly, unexplainably comforting about the whole sordid situation.

Already, the little cubby emblazoned with Anakin’s nameplate feels a bit like home.

Already, this team feels a bit like family.

It’s part of the reason, Anakin assumes, that even professional locker rooms — which are otherwise decked out in all kinds of luxuries like TVs, couches, gaming councils, etc. — still have communal showers. Because if hours of training to play a sport that is, essentially, the modern equivalent of a gladiatorial game doesn’t bond you with your teammates, showering together sure as fuck will.

A form of forced vulnerability to balance out the violence.

It’s all part of the game.

And it’s always the same.

Confidence is, obviously, extremely important, but it’s never good to tip over into arrogance. Being surrounded by men who look as if they should be on display in a museum makes humbling oneself a bit easier, but overcompensating is not hard to do, and no one gets put in their place faster than a cocky rookie.

So far, Anakin has managed to fly under the radar for the most part. There were a few pretty predictable whistles that first day, and more than one mention of fattening him up from Jabba and the other linemen — whatever the fuck that means — but most of the comments have been about his tattoo.

Not the tattoo on his arm — the one that extends from his right elbow to his knuckles — black ink in the broken blistered pattern of burnt wood turned to coal, cracked and carved apart by flame. The one that had taken months to design and three multi-hour sittings to complete.

No.

Most of the comments have been about the tattoo on his ass.

The one he got his first year at Mos Eisley State because when the five coolest guys on the football team tell the scrawny redshirt quarterback that something is a great idea, it’s very easy to believe that it is, in fact, a great idea.

As it turns out, it had been a terrible idea.

The next day in the locker room, the same teammates who had encouraged him to get his own lip print tattooed in bright red ink on his left ass cheek tore him to pieces in front of the entire team.

Anakin had gone back down to the tattoo shop as soon as the lips healed to add BITE ME in big black letters.

None of them could have known the monster they created that day.

He knows better than to shy away from it — honestly, he’s grown quite fond of the little tattoo and the way it seems to disarm people — but trying to cover it up would only draw more attention to it in the end.

It’s not that modesty is an issue, a lot of guys are certainly more on the reserved side — a wrapped towel is totally normal, no need to strut around bare-assed just for the sake of it — but hiding, turning away, avoiding the showers altogether — that will draw attention and comments faster than just about anything else.

Well.

There is one thing that is almost guaranteed to make someone the butt of every locker room joke.

There’s always one guy with a big dick.

#i wonder who it could be #wip wednesday #perfect spiral #obikin #football au

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simptasia · 8 months

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Tell me all about LOST all I know is from Dane Cook

that is. such a funny sentence

aw shucks, its tempting, but i don't wanna give ya spoilers. and there are truly things in lost that must be experienced by your own flesh

...yes im aware of what my blog is like

so i guess i'll give a vague spoiler free overview

so. a group of plane crash survivors find themselves on a mysterious island and have to deal with the strange happenings + their weight of their individual traumas

the show is serialized and one ep more or less flows into another, so literally no ep can be skipped (no matter what anybody says) or else you'll miss something

its a large ensemble cast, ranging from the 13 to 20s range, all in all i think theres like 35 main characters

the show follows a flashback structure, each episode dedicated itself to a main plot on the island intercut with flashbacks to one character. we call these centric episodes. eg. this is a jack centric episode. sometimes an ep will have multiple characters have flashbacks in one ep. while this show didn't originate the concept of a large cast or flashback storytelling, it did popularize it in the early 2000s. so a lot of post 2004 shows wanted to be lost so bad and it shows

at first lost was a survival show but they gloss over this very quickly and its more about the weird shit going on. as time goes on, plots and mysteries stack up. this is to create intrigue, as the shows main focus is an endless parade of character studies. with the added bonus of some cool and twisty shit going on too

but because lost had so much plot, over time it got accused of being confusing and convoluted and Not Answering Questions and well. your mileage may vary. but i think its confusing if you watch it too slowly. like, it aired over a 6 year period, no wonder people got confused. its better to watch nowadays, way easier to handle

the genre of lost is: drama mystery action paranormal sci fi romance with a dash of comedy. lost is full of the saddest fucks you'll ever meet but the show contains enough levity and great colouring to make it not a huge misery fest

pretty decent racial diversity. next to no LGBT rep. more women than the average tv show. then and now

the score FUCKS

not a single bad actor in this entire show, the performances on display are fucking outstanding. and every emotion is like up to 11, which is great for my autistic brain

for those of you who find sex scenes to be tedious, i have a bit of trivia for ya: all sex in LOST happens off screen. not a single sex scene to be found. pre sex, yes, post sex, yes. making out, yes. but sex itself? footage not found. i'm neutral on the concept, i just thought that was something to point out

i highly recommend lost to, like, anybody. ever. its a masterpiece of television. even the low points are better than most shows. sometimes i take lost for granted and then i watch any other drama series and im like "oh right, lost is incredibly good"

its my third favourite show. and thats only cuz star trek and doctor who exist, and nobody is beating those fuckers

anyways do you like to see beautiful people cry and scream but it isn't cringe?* well, i've got a show for you! *okay there is some cringe. as a treat. the leading man of this show has the social grace of a cold pancake (affectionate)

thank you for your time

#i have considered doing a Guide To LOST type thing #where i give an amusing gist of each character

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softquietsteadylove · 3 months

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thenamesh has rotted my brain so much that 4th of july fireworks spooking my dog obviously made me think of how thena would probably get spooked by them too — so of course i had to bring it to you as a prompt! maybe featuring our sweet jack and some comfort?

Thena squinted as yet another firework went off. Terrible, incessant things, she thought. They were loud and made a mess. But ever since their conception - for which they had all been present - humans loved them.

They had declined to attend the show at its source, mostly out of consideration for the Eternals and their heightened senses. Thena, especially, although she did offer to attend for Jack's sake.

In years past, Phastos and Ben had taken Jack to all of the typical Fourth of July festivities, as Americans wishing to take part in the celebrations. They went to the parade, they attended things in the city or had backyard activities at their home for the neighbours. They had also declined that, this year.

It was determined to be too much, the possibility of strange kids running around and screaming with water guns and sparklers. Phastos and Gil did cook on the grill just for them. They had all attempted to lure Jack outside with the promise of baseball and soccer and football. But all day, Jack was busy inside making a fort.

By this time it was taking up most of the living room, constructed with couch cushions and the futon from Phastos' home office and plenty of pillows and blankets. It was somewhat hard to navigate, but Jack was adamant that it not be disturbed all weekend. Thena had defended his magnum opus.

Another one went off, and even Ben and Phastos admired the twinkle of it, each with a beer in hand. Ben looked around their chairs all lined up on their back deck to see the display at a distance. "Jack?"

Phastos shook his head. "He's still working on that fort."

"He's missing the show," Ben frowned.

Gil leaned forward in his own chair, mindful of Thena in his lap. "We told him it was starting, but he said it was almost ready."

"Ready for what?"

None of them knew. Phastos was especially put out that his son was seemingly over the childhood wonder and joy of the fireworks show. "This is how it starts. Next, he's gonna be in his room all day and night and we'll never see him except-"

"Habibi," Ben chided his husband, reaching over and rubbing his hand. "We have discussed this."

"Yeah," Phastos sighed heavily, though, taking another swig of light beer. "Just wait, he's eleven now, but he'll be thirteen before we even know it."

Thena pressed her ear more firmly against Gil's chest as another one burst in the air. She blinked rapidly at the red colour of this one. She was doing respectably well, though. She had the odd moment of swearing she could smell gunpowder and smoke, but she could still correct herself. They weren't witnessing the slaughter of Tenochtitlan, they were visiting their brother's family in America.

Gilgamesh ran his hand over her hair, whispering soft nothings to her to help her weather the storm. "You sure you wanna do this? Jack isn't even here."

As with most other things, she had agreed for Jack's sake. She was still overly conscious of potentially ruining any fun for him because of the gentility with which she needed to navigate human life. Of course she would deny it, but it did melt her heart completely every time he showed concern for her state of mind.

She gripped the lapel of Gil's shirt, but nodded with her head under his chin. "I'm sure he'll join us. If I go inside, he'll just offer to keep me company."

Gil chuckled, kissing her temple. She was right, and he knew she was.

Phastos looked at his watch, "well, if he doesn't get out here he might miss the end of it."

Thena lifted her head from Gil's chest. "It is odd for him to be so reclusive. I'll find him."

Gil let his hand trail down her back as she lifted herself from his embrace. "If he doesn't wanna come out, you two can have fun in there."

She smiled at him, letting their hands drag apart reluctantly.

"Sure, if she goes he'll come right out. If I do it, it's 'Dad, I'm busy!'."

Thena ignored her brother's lamenting over his child's growing independence. She slid the patio door closed behind her. "Jack?"

"In here!"

She walked into the living room, finding the lamps were on, illuminating the truly impressive sprawl of the fort. She tilted her head before bending at the waist. "Jack?"

"Aunt Thena, in here," he whispered, a hand sticking out just to wave.

She crouched down, bending her knees in her skirt so she could crawl into the small tunnel leading to his domain. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's finally ready!"

What was finally ready? Thena crawled on her hands and knees over the carpet and into the fort's main body. Never before - and never again - would she have to crawl like this. It was unbecoming of a warrior. But this was for her nephew.

"What do you think?"

It was actually quite remarkable. The far 'wall' actually was connected to the large window of the living room, offering a glimpse outside that looked in the direction of the city's epicentre. The rest of the fort was cushioned by thick blankets and using the plush structures of couches and chairs and automans.

"This is rather well done, Jack," she praised with a smile. He truly was a remarkable human--nothing short of brilliant, the son of the Fabricator Eternal.

"Here," he said gently, sitting himself on a pillow set up by the window. There was one beside him, which he patted for her. "The view is perfect."

"The view?"

But Jack was right. It was possible to see the more distant fireworks that were being displayed over the city harbour. They were more distant, therefore not as bright against the dark sky. And within the house, they were much quieter.

"Is this what you've been doing?" she asked as she watched the tiny but still beautiful display within the window.

He nodded, also watching, captivated. "Baba said there were two fireworks shows, this one just started."

She gave her young nephew a look, attempting to appear stern with his utterly adorable face. "Did you construct this just for me?"

"Well," he cast a sheepish glance to his sock feet, wiggling his toes and twisting his lips.

"Jack," she frowned. "You mustn't worry about me so much. You should be enjoying the fireworks with your fathers as intended."

He looked at her with big, pleading eyes, shrugging his shoulders. "But I can't have fun if I know you're scared."

She sighed. Such a sweet boy, with such a big, human heart. She put her hand on his head gently, not quite patting his head and not quite ruffling his hair. "It is not your place to quell my fears. And discomfort is not a fear."

He scooched a little closer to her pillow. "Can I tell you a secret?"

She nodded, leaning down for him to whisper to her, even within the protection of the fort. He moved her hair out of his way, his little hand feeling barely bigger than her ear.

"The fireworks are too loud for me, too. But I never wanted to say 'cause Dad and Baba like watching them."

She watched him sit back on his own pillow again. The thought crossed her mind if he was lying in order to spare her feelings, or her pride. But Jack wasn't a very good liar (she had seen him try to lie about reading comic books after bed time). "Is that so?"

He turned his attention back to the window. "We always go, ever since I was little. But it gets cold, and they're cool and all, but they kinda look the same except for the start and the end. And they're really loud if you're too close."

Thena looked away from the lights display to her brother's son. His maturity and knowledge of himself never ceased to impress her. She truly thought human children were less intelligent than this. Although it was possible Jack was an exception among human offspring. "And here I was, out there so that you wouldn't feel the need to stay inside with me."

He looked at her, illuminated by the far off show. "I like being inside with you."

She put her hand on his shoulder, allowing him to lean against her arm. "I like being inside with you too, Jack."

The boy went quiet, perhaps bashful of the quiet affection passing between them. But he made himself comfortable against her, as affectionately as a boy his age could allow.

She held back a laugh as she heard a small yawn escape him. "It has grown late."

"That's okay," he excused, although he was leaning more heavily on her by the second.

It was indeed late. The summer made the sun set so late that the fireworks couldn't start until rather close to Jack's bed time anyway. Thena moved her arm, allowing Jack to fold himself against her more comfortably. This was also something she never imagined herself doing as the Warrior Eternal. But as the boy's 'Aunt Thena', she would be quite capable of anything.

She continued watching the display, checking every few minutes if Jack's eyes were still open. Perhaps partway through the display, he was completely asleep. She ran her hand over his forehead, resolving not to move and disturb his sleep, no matter the cost.

#Jack and Thenamesh #thank you so much for the ask!!!#I'm sorry I'm late #but I pushed this out for the occasion #I'm not american but I know it's a big thing #and you're right Jack would totally be worried about Aunt Thena #he's seen her with other loud noises #he's seen her jump when his dad started the blender without warning #so he knows the fireworks are coming #and says I know just what to do #and also what a great way for him to not hurt his dads' feelings #Gil comes inside and goes hello in there #He opens up a flap from the top and sees them #and takes a million pictures because it's so cute #but Jack can't sleep on the floor!!!#Thena picks up his little body in her arms #hands him off to Gil to get him into bed #Phastos is happy because he gets to see his boy being babied again #He and Ben take Jack to his room #Gil joins Thena in the fort #although he's worried he'll ruin it #Phastos says it's coming down tomorrow anyway #Gil sneaks in and settles beside his wife #he asks how the fireworks were for her #she says she can bear them in here #they snuggle up together #and then Phastos sticks his head in like BREAK IT UP

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pure-garbage · 24 days

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Philosophical Mosshead? Eloquent Inner Thoughts Of The Swordsman

Punk Hazard presented one bizarre anomaly after another to the straw hats in what felt like a never-ending freakshow parade that defied everything Zoro knew about nature. He wasn't fazed by it, just curious. He accepted that there was a strong possibility that the island's multitudinous eccentricities would never be explained to him, and he was at peace with it.

Even so, nothing, not the bifurcated weather, not the human-animal hybrids, not the talking autonomous legs, none of it prepared him for the shock of seeing his crewmates personalities randomized among their bodies. His friends had been swapped around in a way that was mind-boggling.

'This circus is almost hilarious. Such an existentially challenging display of the superficialities of physical form,' Zoro mused privately as he watched his crew interact.

Zoro kept his thoughts to himself. He had two priorities. The first was keeping his bearings and not letting the situation rattle him.

The second was finding Lana. His eyes swept the cavern, taking in the befuddled straw hats, captive centaurs and gigantic children. The scene was incredibly chaotic in a quiet, dazed way. Even so, he felt like he should have spotted her by now.

"Think we should tell him?"

Zoro's haki caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Despite the fact that Nami hadn't said his name, he knew she was talking about him. Her intent invoked his presence and drew his attention preternaturally.

"I don't know. I doubt he would take it well. And she can take care of herself, right?" Franky replied, voice low. Not low enough. Zoro bore down on the two, hands firmly on his hips, eyebrows knit with concern and suspicion, lips pressed together in a hard, humorless line. His crewmates unconcealed intents betrayed the identity of the 'she' they mentioned.

"Where's Lana?" he demanded, drawing their attention for the first time. Franky squeaked, jumped and gulped, shrinking back a little from the imposing presence the swordsman was projecting. Nami, by contrast, crossed her arms obstinately over her chest, squared her stance, threw her shoulders back and met his gaze with no sign of intimidation. A second later, she cast her gaze down, eyes tripling in size as she realized the effect the change in posture had on her breasts.

"Wow, Nami! They're so full from this angle in this pose!" she exclaimed, expression enamored.

"Idiot!" Franky scowled. He raised his hand, but then seemed to think better of it and held back. "Stop looking! If that wasn't my body, I would have knocked you clean out by now!"

The strange behavior reminded Zoro that he couldn't take his crew at face value at the current moment. Sanji was in Nami's body and Nami in Franky's. He made a mental note. He wouldn't confuse the two again.

"Hey! Both of you cut it out!" he scolded the pair. He needed them to focus. "I know you were talking about Lana! What is it you're not going to tell me? What won't I take well?"

Nami and Sanji shared a look, then Sanji shrugged with Nami's delicate shoulders.

"He's wise to the fact that something's wrong," he sighed. "Might as well tell him what we know."

"For all the good it'll do," Nami sighed. "Not like we know much anyway."

"Nami! Spit it out!" Zoro barked.

"Cool the aggression, moss-head," Sanji scowled. "No one's happy with what's going on, don't take it out on Nami-swan."

"If someone doesn't tell me where Lana is," Zoro seethed, patience quickly wearing thin.

"We don't know," Nami cut him off. "That's all. She's... been missing since we all woke up after being gassed. She wasn't with the rest of us in the cell and we didn't see her while we were escaping the lab."

"The last time anyone saw her was on the ship," Sanji informed him.

Dread curled in Zoro's gut, but he clamped down on it with every shred of discipline and logic at his disposal.

'She's fine. She can take care of herself. Wherever she is, whatever happened, she'll be alright.'

Even so...

"Missing... you should have said something sooner," he grumbled. He reached inside his robe, down into the left pocket of his pants, rustling through its contents until he came up with a scrap of folded purple paper. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

'Not singed. She's fine. Still... just because she's not dying doesn't mean she's not in trouble. She should have been with the others when they were captured... why wasn't she with them when they all woke up?'

"Luffy!"

Zoro left Sanji and Nami to find his captain cavorting with the gigantic children like he was one of them.

"No one's seen Lana since we left the ship," Zoro informed him. "I'm going to look for her, that alright?"

"Don't see why not," Luffy shrugged. "Want me to come with you?"

"No, that's fine," Zoro shook his head. "You've got enough to deal with here."

"If you say so! Hey, Mocha peeked!"

"I did not!" the enormous child squealed.

Zoro walked away from his captain, leaving him to whatever game he was occupying the children with. He held the vivre card on his flat palm, watching as it slowly, surely tugged toward his thumb. He set off at once in the direction it indicated, but only made it a few paces before he came face-to-face with a wall. Unconcerned and determined to carry on in a straight line, he drew Shusui. The hum of tempered black steel caught Usopp's attention, who shrieked and rushed over to restrain his friend, frantically grappling with Zoro's wrist.

"Zooorooo! Whaaat do you think you're doing?!" Usopp howled, pulling Zoro's arm back with his entire body. Zoro submitted to his pulling, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I don't see any doors, so I'm going straight through," he explained, tone implying this should have been obvious.

"Are you crazy?! We know the marines are on the island, and Nami made it sound like Luffy's warlord buddy Trafalgar isn't acting as friendly as Luffy expects him to!" Usopp scolded fiercely. "How about moving through this place with at least a little attempt at subtlety?!"

"I don't need subtlety," Zoro growled. "I'm going to find Lana and I'll slice up anything or anyone who gets in my way!"

"Can't you at least put some distance between yourself and our little hideout before you start wrecking things?!" Usopp moaned desolately.

"Get off my arm, Usopp! You're slowing me down!" Zoro scowled, shaking his arm lightly in an attempt to dislodge his friend. Usopp just shook his head and held on more stubbornly as the waving motion of Zoro's arm pulled him off his feet.

Robin approached with a smile that was equal parts amusement at her friends' antics and a kind offer to help in any way possible.

"Why don't you let me accompany you, swordsman?" she proposed. "I can help you find the doors so you don't have to slice through any walls."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll move faster on my own," Zoro grumbled. He raised and lowered his arm violently with Usopp still clinging to him, yelping through clenched teeth.

"And if you mistakenly slice Lana in half by cutting down a wall while she's on the other side?" Robin mused morbidly.

"Yeah, Robin, that's it! Psyche him out with the power of your secret inner darkness," Usopp cheered. Zoro finally managed to shake him off and he fell to the ground in a dazed heap. "So dizzy..."

"In addition to helping you locate the doors, I can help keep a lookout as well," Robin informed Zoro. As if to prove her point, she materialized a dazzlingly bright blue eye on the wall at eye level with the swordsman. "I may even be able to locate Lana in advance."

"I'll know when she's close," Zoro retorted. His observation haki was still rough, but he imagined he was familiar enough with Lana's presence that he would be able to feel her when he drew near to her. He sheathed Shusui. "But... I guess a few extra sets of eyes couldn't hurt."

"You two have fun," Usopp called after them, recovering and hauling himself back to his feet. "Robin, try to make him be subtle! And don't let him get lost!"

"I'll see what I can do," she promised in parting.

_________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

#fanfic #one piece #oc #sandbox adventures #roronoa zoro #pure garbage #zoro #nami #luffy #nico robin #sanji #usopp #franky one piece #devil fruit #punk hazard

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flamurai · 1 month

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❛ let me stay like this in you for a little bit. ❜

answered prompt for @mizukokyu ! ( selectively accepting. )

𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄, 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒. withdrawing from him, only to push back inside in one swift motion. eyes glimmered, observing as though mesmerized and thoroughly taken by the display set so beautifully before him. their breath mingled, those elegant hands stationed behind knees compressing, keeping them raised and only tightening with progression. bruises decorate freckle peppered skin, appearing harsh and yet harboring something akin to 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ! markings worn, no shame to forfeit should they be seen. however, there is a semblance of shame carried through his timbre. curdled whines bubbling from chest, trembling thighs squeezing around hips as words form breathlessly. ❛ please , giyu. ❞ that name, sweet upon tongue, spills through the crevices of fingers meant to stifle. you're always too loud, they'll hear you. it doesn't concern them now.

it feels good, you can't stop. nothing short of 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 and yet cheeks bloom with scarlet. was this how it felt ? such irony, now pleading, pining after it. his own desires burning through to move against him despite opposing wishes. alas, they would remain ever stagnant : that hold is unrelenting, demeanor calm but seeming to lose himself. ❛ you need to move ! ❞ voice no longer found strength to properly command, sounding so desperate and coaxing for release. a moan befalls parted lips, fingers encircling himself between flush abdomens, every stroke dragging forth a rasp whimper. it's not enough ...

strange, the wanton 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐇 parading his mind. that primal urge to be filled, and spilled into as though it were nature running course. perhaps that is the sole reason for his embarrassment. flesh always betrays, unveils your vulnerability when bared. ❛ i can't ... wait , i need to ❞ then hips drift, crashing as waves would the shore, and sending his head aback. the gasp to tear from his throat would diminish stealth, alerting any passerby to their misdeeds. but pay them no mind, the world no longer existed.

#mizukokyu #blush for me ryan.#no one look. rengoku in the trenches with his man.#˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓. ´ˎ˗ INBOX.#/ nsft

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anonymousewrites · 2 years

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Of Sensibility and Swords (Mulan AU! Megumi x Reader) Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven: Palace

On Midnight, (Y/N) forced her way through the crowd celebrating Kenjaku and the Curse’s defeat. They had no idea those men were arriving to cause havoc even as they spoke. They only cared about the parade of lights and heroic soldiers before them.

Drums and cheers echoed through the air as music flowed over the group. Dancers entertained the people craning to watch the Captain and the men who had helped him defeat the monster of a man that was Kenjaku. Sweet scents of candied fruits and savory meats filled the air, and fireworks and torches lit the city. Above them all, the palace loomed against the dark sky where both the heroic troop and villainous Curses were heading for.

(Y/N) dodged through the crowd and pulled up alongside Naoya and Megumi’s horses. “Captain!” she said

“(Y/N)?” Megumi’s eyes widened.

It felt strange to hear Megumi use her real first name, but she pressed on, “The Curses are alive. They’re in the city by now.”

“(Y/N)—” Megumi started to respond.

“You?” hissed Naoya. “Your beloved Captain spared your life. If you’d like me to end it now, continue speaking.”

(Y/N) frowned. “I’m trying to save all your lives. The Curses are alive. I saw them.”

Naoya scoffed. “Trying to get back in our good graces. Petty move for a traitor! Leave before I have you killed.”

“You have to believe—!”

“(Y/N). Don’t make the situation worse. We’re handling this,” said Megumi. He spoke harshly to ensure that she backed off. He couldn’t risk her getting hurt after he spared her life.

(Y/N) jerked back. “Fine. If you won’t do anything, then I will.” She turned her horse and left through the crowd.

“They’re not gonna listen to you, you’re a girl again, remember?” said Gojo.

“I’ll make them listen,” said (Y/N).

Megumi watched her go, and his stomach twisted. What if she was right and the curses were there? It could have been the cold playing tricks on her, but… The thought of Kenjaku being alive made Megumi shiver.

As Megumi walked to the top of the stairs to Emperor Yaga, he held Kenjaku’s sword tightly in his grasp. Behind him, his soldiers bowed to the crowd, and a great Japanese dragon costume followed them in a display of power. Naoya stood by Megumi’s side, slightly frustrated by how Megumi was the one being honored, not him. However, all attention was stolen, and silence descended on the crowd as Yaga stepped out to address them.

“My children, heaven smiles down upon Japan,” said Yaga. “We shall sleep safely tonight thanks to the efforts of our brave sons.”

Megumi flinched at the mention of “sons.” (Y/N) is no sun, and she was braver than any of us. Nonetheless, he cleared his throat and held the sword out to Yaga. “Your Majesty, I present to you the katana of Kenjaku.”

As Megumi held it out to Yaga, a seagull-like bird swooped down and stole it from his hands. The crowd gasped. (Y/N)’s eyes widened. The Curses were making a move. The bird dropped the sword atop the palace roof, where Kenjaku caught it as he stepped from the shadows.

Megumi drew his sword, but from underneath the dragon costume behind him, the remaining Curses jumped out with their weapons. He was knocked to the ground as they grabbed Yaga and dragged him into the palace. As Megumi ran to catch up with them and Itadori, Yuuta, Noritoshi, and Toudou broke from the troop to help, the Curses fired at them before locking the grand palace doors.

The soldiers hurried to grab a statue and use it as a battering ram, but it was not working. The palace was built to withstand attacks, and now with the Curses inside, no one could get to them from the ground.

(Y/N) broke from the ground and ran up to the palace, Gojo on her shoulder. “They’re never going to get to the Emperor in time.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Gojo.

(Y/N) looked at her friends. “Get some help.” She ran to them. “Hey!” The men stared at her, but she stood tall and strong against their gazes. “I have an idea.”

Itadori, Yuuta, Toudou, and Noritoshi looked at each other before nodding and following (Y/N). “What is it?”

She held up several spare kimonos geisha performers had. “If men are going to underestimate women, we should use that to our advantage.”

She tossed the outfits to her friends as she pulled a dark blue and black kimono on. The men didn’t hesitate, listening to (Y/N)’s wisdom. Itadori put on a pink limono, Yuuta a pale blue, Toudou light grey, and Noritoshi red.

All “Be a man! We must be swift as a coursing river, Be a man!

They each went to a pillar and drew a sash to use as leverage, just like (Y/N) had with the wooden pillar during training.

All “With all the force of a great typhoon, Be a man!”

As (Y/N) prepared to climb, a hand rested on her shoulder. She turned and was met with Megumi by her side.

“I’m with you,” said Megumi, squeezing her shoulder.

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m glad.”

All “With all the strength of a raging fire, Mysterious as the dark side of the moon!”

And so, they began their climb to save the Emperor and Japan from Kenjaku and the Curses. A team.

“Alright, any questions?” asked (Y/N) after checking on the two guards watching the door of the balcony when Kenjaku was holding Yaga.

“Does this dress make me look fat?” asked Toudou. In response, Noritoshi slapped him upside the head.

“Alright, let’s go,” said (Y/N).

Megumi watched as the rest of the group walked up to the guards. They fanned themselves to seem demurer (and so the men could hide their more manly features). They laughed and bat their eyes at the guards flirtatiously.

“Concubines,” remarked a guard.

“Ugly concubines,” said another, wrinkling his nose.

As Itadori, Yuuta, Noritoshi, and Toudou got closer, one of the apples Itadori was using for breasts fell from his dress, and he gasped in embarrassment and sheepishly fanned himself. The (frankly idiotic) guard reached down and held it back out. (Obviously, these men had been away from women for a long time). The boys just grinned as they pulled out the rest of their fruit.

Toudou smashed the watermelons he was holding down on two guards’ heads and then knocked their heads together. Itadori stuffed his other apple in a guard’s mouth before kneeing him in the stomach and kicking him to the ground unconscious. Noritoshi dodged punches from a Curse, grabbed his arm, and flipped him to the ground. Yuuta expertly dodged an attack, threw an apple into his opponent’s face, and swiftly knocked him unconscious with a punch. (Y/N) dodged an arrow from a Curse’s bow and tackled him before he could reload.

Pinning him down and strangling him unconscious with his own bow, she called to Megumi, “Go, Megumi!”

Megumi obeyed and ran past her. Throwing open the doors, he ran up to the terrace where Kenjaku was threatening Emperor Yaga with death if he didn’t bow. Just as Kenjaku raised his blade, Megumi jumped between them and blocked the blow.

��Go, Your Majesty!” cried Megumi, kicking Kenjaku back.

Kenjaku grabbed Megumi and slammed him to the ground, much stronger than the young man. The two grabbled as the rest of Megumi’s group arrived.

“Toudou, guard the Emperor,” ordered (Y/N).

“Sorry, Your Majesty!” said Toudou brightly. He picked up Yaga, grabbed his sash, and used the cloth to zipline down the lantern rope to the crowd below. Itadori, Yuuta, and Noritoshi followed suit.

“No!” growled Kenjaku from where Megumi was now holding him down. Not only had most of his men been killed, but now his revenge had been foiled as well. He tossed Megumi off him and grabbed him by the throat. He slammed Megumi’s head down again, knocking him unconscious.

From where she was preparing to make her escape, (Y/N) instead jumped down from the balcony railing to help Megumi. She couldn’t let him be killed by Kenjaku. She wouldn’t let him be killed. Before Kenjaku could go after the Emperor and the rest of her friends, (Y/N) picked up Kenjaku’s sword and cut down the rope. The sword lodged in the wood of the pillar from the force of her blow. Kenjaku lunged to catch it while (Y/N) ran to help Megumi awaken. Kenjaku growled in anger as the rope fell to the ground below them. The Emperor had escaped. He had lost again.

He turned on (Y/N) and Megumi and picked up his katana from the pillar. Megumi pushed her away as Kenjaku attacked. He attempted to draw a dagger from his belt, but Kenjaku kicked it away and grabbed him by the collar.

“You took away my victory!” hissed Kenjaku, holding his sword to pierce Megumi’s heart.

“No!” declared (Y/N), drawing his attention away. She held her hair up in the traditional male style. “I did.”

Kenjaku’s eyes widened. “The soldier from the mountains.” The cause of his first defeat stood before him.

Having successfully taken his attention from Megumi, (Y/N) dashed back into the hall with Kenjaku on her heels as Megumi tried to stand with his dizziness.

“What’s the plan?!” cried Gojo, bounding up beside her.

(Y/N) halted in front of a window and pointed out to the fireworks. “I need you to light them.”

Gojo’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he realized what she had in mind. “Alright! Let’s go!” He clambered out the window and ran across the lantern rope to the tower where men were setting of fireworks.

Behind (Y/N), Kenjaku rounded a corner. He reached for her, and (Y/N) swung outside onto the windowsill to avoid him. She jumped and grabbed ahold of the edge of the roof. She needed to get away from Kenjaku. In pure strength, she could not beat him, so she had to fight smart.

As Gojo commandeered the firework tower, (Y/N) ran across the roof as the crowd gasped and watched. Her friends gazed up in worry as Kenjaku followed her up. (Y/N) stepped onto the beam running across the center of the roof. She needed to get this right, keep him there long enough for Gojo to be ready. But to do so, (Y/N) needed to stay alive. She cursed the fact that she had no weapon as she backed away from his menacing approach. All she had was her moonstone.

Alright. I’ll make do with that.

“It appears you’re out of ideas,” sneered Kenjaku.

As he stabbed at her, (Y/N) shifted to the side, letting him throw off his balance.

“No. I’m not,” said (Y/N) simply.

She drew her moonstone from her pocket and threw it at his head. It knocked him over, forcing him to his hands and knees just as Gojo lit his rocket. Before Kenjaku could comprehend what was happening, he was hit by the firework and sent careening off to the other firework tower. (Y/N) jumped from the roof to a lantern rope as he hit the tower and exploded into a rainbow of colors with the other fireworks. The explosion knocked her to the ground, and she rolled to a stop beneath the palace steps, groaning as bruises and cuts formed in the fall.

Her friends ran to her side and helped her up. Before she could ask where he was and if he was alright, Megumi ran out the palace’s front doors and down to her. He hugged her tightly as soon as he was within arm’s reach of her.

“You’re alright,” he said.

(Y/N) turned pink but hugged back. “I am.”

“Where is she?!” cried an angry voice.

Megumi instantly pushed (Y/N) behind him, and Toudou and Noritoshi stepped in front as well. Itadori and Yuuta brought up the rear of the small circle around (Y/N).

Naoya, singed and covered in suit, glowered down at them as he marched towards them. “Where is she?!” he demanded. “She’s done it. She’s crossed the line! Interfering with matters of the Emperor’s life! The impudence of that girl! Stand aside!”

“She’s a hero,” retorted Megumi sharply.

“She’s a woman,” scoffed Naoya condescendingly. “She’ll never be worth anything more than her face and body.”

Megumi grabbed Naoya by the collar. “Care to repeat that?” he asked in a dangerous voice.

“That is enough,” said the voice of the emperor, silencing the argument.

Megumi and Naoya drew apart as Yaga approached. “Your Majesty, I can explain—” began Megumi, but Yaga raised a hand to stop him. (Y/N)’s friends exchanged glances before drawing away so Yaga could look at her.

(Y/N) stepped forward and bowed the Emperor. She was going to act honorably if these were to be her final moments.

“I’ve heard quite a bit about you, (L/N) (Y/N),” said Yaga, looking at (Y/N) observantly. Naoya sneered, and Megumi winced. “You stole your father’s armor, ran away from home, impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer—” his voice rose, and (Y/N) fidgeted nervously “—dishonored the Japanese army, destroyed my palace, and—” (Y/N) waited for her fate to be sealed, but suddenly, Yaga relaxed and smiled “—you have saved us all.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprised and straightened. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Yaga then bowed, and (Y/N)’s eyes widened. The Emperor was bowing to her. Naoya stammered, but not wanting to displease the Emperor, he too bowed before her. Megumi grinned in satisfaction and bowed as well. The rest of (Y/N)’s friends followed suit. The crowds below saw their Emperor and followed his example, bowing. (Y/N) looked around herself in shock. She had expected death, not honor, from her actions.

Gojo wiped a tear from his eye as he watched the happenings from the roof. “Look at that. She’s all grown up and saving Japan!”

Yaga straightened. “Naoya.”

“Yes, Your Excellency?” said Naoya, trying to keep the bitterness of (Y/N) being honored instead of punished out of his voice.

“See to it this woman is made a member of my council,” said Yaga.

(Y/N) straightened in surprise from the honor, and she looked at Megumi in astonishment, who just smiled as if saying “You earned this.”

Naoya froze. “What?! A member?! But…there are no council seats open,” he chuckled, glaring at (Y/N).

“Very well. She can have your job,” said Yaga, not missing a beat.

“What?” cried Naoya. He sputtered indignantly but shut up when Yaga levelled s olemn look at him. Megumi smirked at seeing him put in his place.

“With all due respect, Emperor Yaga,” said (Y/N), doing her best to remain polite and say the correct thing in the correct tone. “I would like to return home. I’ve been gone for too long.”

Yaga nodded, understanding the decision. “Then take this.” He lifted a medallion with the engraving of a moon from it. “This medal was awarded to me for leading Japan to victory in battle many moons ago. Let it be a mark of what you have done for this country now.”

(Y/N) bowed her head as Yaga placed it around her neck. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And, of course, this.” Yaga handed Kenjaku’s fallen katana to (Y/N). “With these, the world will know of what you have done for Japan.”

(Y/N) bowed yet again in thanks for the gracious gifts Emperor Yaga had bestowed upon her. Then, she turned and faced her friends. She smiled, a large and honest one. “Thank you all for helping me. I could not have done it without you.”

“It was our honor,” said Megumi, bowing his head and smiling.

“You turned out to be alright,” said Noritoshi, shrugging.

“We’re really glad you were here,” said Itadori brightly.

“You’re an awesome fighter!” said Toudou.

“We will miss working with you,” said Yuuta.

She smiled at each of them, finishing on Megumi. “I will miss you all as well.” (Y/N) bowed again before walking to Midnight. She swung herself up onto the saddle where Gojo was hiding in Midnight’s made and gave them a final farewell nod.

Megumi’s gaze did not leave her as she disappeared into the crowd. He had wanted to approach her, say something more than just “it was our honor.” He had desired to hold her close and promise he was always on her side and was glad she was alive and so impressed by her strength and determination.

The Emperor cleared his throat, coming to Megumi’s side. “Until it reaches fullness, the moon is but a sliver of light amongst a thousand stars. But once it is whole, it is brighter than all others.”

“Sir?” asked Megumi.

Yaga sighed. “You don’t let a star like that leave your life once you’ve found it.” He smiled pointedly at Megumi and then turned away.

Megumi stared out at where (Y/N) had disappeared into the distance. He knew he had to go talk to her. He wouldn’t lose (Y/N). He wouldn’t lose such an amazing woman.

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cartrunkent · 2 months

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Favorite Musical #4: Jekyll and Hyde

Jekyll and Hyde- While I’m sure that before the 90s I was in love with other musicals…mostly Guys and Dolls, to be honest. By the time I had discovered Jekyll and Hyde, I had been to Broadway once (Les Miserables 1994?,) and seen both Phantom of the Opera and Jesus Christ Superstar on tours in Philadelphia. …but Jekyll and Hyde ignited me in a new and fascinating way. I’m sure it wasn’t the first recording I got, but it’s probably the one I listened to the most for a good long time.

I have to thank Rosie O’Donnell’s talk show for bringing it to my attention. Her talk show is also how I met Chicago and Parade, but that’s for another time. Remember kids, this is back in the days that looking up videos on the internet wasn’t really a thing. I couldn’t go to youtube and see videos of people performing these songs. So, Rosie was the entry point and the only time I was able to see the song “This is the Moment” performed. It had me at hello. Honest.

That song in and of itself is worth the price of admission. The rest of the musical is just as good. “In His Eyes” comes in second favorite for me…and so many others. The show by Frank Wildhorn, Leslie Bricusse and Steve Cuden is just excellent. It moves well. Pacing is so important and an underrated feature of good shows. The music, the story, the whole package. I bought the CD…and then later I got the original (extended) UK version. Frank Wildhorn is underrated, and I like a lot of his works like the Scarlet Pimpernel and the Civil War…though I’m a little lukewarm on Bonnie and Clyde.

I was in college at the point where I discovered this show (1996-1997,) and the college used to take a trip to see a Broadway show each year. That year it was Rent, which I didn’t really care for, but I went. It was an exciting adventure…and they told us that next year was Jekyll and Hyde. I was getting stoked. The trips sold out quickly. Many of us had camped out overnight in the student center waiting in line for our chance to see Rent, and the conversation was to do the same the next year for Jekyll and Hyde. Strangely, next year…most of my friends dipped out on it. Well, I made new friends in the overnight line and was almost first to secure my seat on our bust trip!

On our trip, the guy playing Jekyll and Hyde at our performance was a real great guy and helped one of our friends who left something in the theater. Took her back in to get it.

Outside of the performance I saw on Broadway, I’ve never seen Jekyll and Hyde again. I haven’t watched the David Hasselhoff version. One of the groups around me did it at some point when I wasn’t attending shows or participating with them. I’ve heard good things and seen pictures in a display at the theater, but I missed the show. It’s not on my list to perform or direct. I do hope to see it again someday. Might be fun to light.

Favorite #4: Jekyll and Hyde

Favorite #3: Jane Eyre

Favorite #2: A Gentlemen's Guide to Love and Murder

Favorite #1: Assassins

#musical #musicals #broadway musicals #broadway #musical theater #theater #theatre #live theater #live theatre #jekyll and hyde #jekyll and hyde the musical #frank wildhorn #leslie bricusse

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vlovers19 · 1 year

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I dont know how up to date you are with bts and vmin these days. But it seems like vmin harfly ever spend time with each other anymore. Ever since solo era started tae has been showing more interest towards wooga. Hobi and jk are the only bts members he keeps in touch with it seems. It makes me sad to know vmin have drifted apart. I guess people chqnge with time. I mean tae didnt even post or cheer for FACE achievements. But ge was able to visit hobi's set for jitb and have multiple hangouts with jk. I dont know anymore. May be vmin soulmates was really company manufactured.

Hello. Thanks for the ask. I've definitely been keeping up with what has been happening especially with this Vmin divorce that has been trending for a while now. It is like an excuse certain people give themselves to fuel their belief that Taehyung and Jimin are not close.

It's funny because what vmin are displaying now shouldn't come as a surprise. That's how they have always been with each other, even when they were in the group. They never had vlive done together on their own. They hardly ever talked about each other. However, take note of the times they decided to mention each other. It has to be for an important reason. Let's start with Jimin.

Jimin really talked about Taehyung when they released their song friends and when he was telling everyone about the moon tattoo on his back. That was interesting because no one even asked him about it. Before then, everyone had their own opinion of why Jimin drew those tattoos. There was even one jikook analyser I saw who was so sure of themselves, talking about how the snake tattoo on Jk's body coincided with the tattoos on Jimin's back. But the truth was rather simple. Taehyung showed a fan art of that tattoo to Jimin.

And when did Jimin suddenly decide to break this news to us? During the heat of Taehyung and Jennie's romance rumors. Jimin who hardly talks about Taehyung blurted out the truth about how he came to have the tattoo and he chose to do that at such a sensitive time. His strategy worked because people turned a blind eye to it and now he parades everywhere proud of that tattoo, exposing it a lot during his album promotions. Now, when one sees that tattoo on his back, what do you think of? Jk? No! We all know the answer.

Now, let's talk about Taehyung. He is just like Jimin, hardly talks about him. Always Jungkook this, Jungkook that. But note the time when he really decided to talk about Jimin. No one asked him, he simply came on vlive to complain that the PD didn't allow him to sing a (cough) gay Christmas song with Jimin because the lyrics where too romantic for two men to sing. He came on live purely to complain about that. Why? Because It was important to him. He felt the need to talk about it.

It's funny how people just wouldn't learn their lesson especially after what happened during Jhope's party. Not a single camera or video captured Jimin and Taehyung together but they captured the other members, even Jin that wasn't present for long. Based on what people saw, Haters started trolling them, just like now, spreading rumors and enjoying that the two didn't interact at all. They kept saying they are no longer friends but ate their words when the official videos and pictures came out. What happened? The two were actually together.

I started to think that perhaps people might even see them out and about but choose to ignore them like they did during Jhope's party. Leaving that aside, let's not also forget when Taehyung suffered from covid strangely enough after Jimin. During their live, RM and Suga kept asking Jimin about Taehyung's welfare. Jimin replied they video chatted each other for two hours and even did pull ups together. They are all members of the same group but why would they personally ask Jimin about Taehyung if they weren't certain that they communicate with each other.

You talked about Taehyung not cheering for Jimin during his promotions. However, people seem to forget that he was very eager prior to his release. However, there could be a reason why he didn't really say anything about Jimin's album itself. Here's my theory. Mind you, it's my opinion. Now, I think he didn't like the songs. He seemed to be looking forward to it, even posted about how eager he was but in the end, it might have fallen short of his expectations. (Personally, I wasn't that impressed to be honest)

The album was much too raw with Jimin using rather strong language in some of the songs and somewhat exposing his orientation. Someone as blunt as Taehyung might have chosen not to say anything instead of being fake. However, we would never really know. But despite that, he was still quite supportive, liking Jimin's post of when he was on the fallon show. One can see he has no bad blood with Jimin especially when you notice his interaction with him during Jhope's send off.

As for visiting Jimin on set, I feel it all depends on a member's schedule or how they feel at that particular moment. Taehyung decided to visit Jhope during the set of his music video. What about the others? Why didn't they come at that particular time? Did they hate Jhope? Of course not. Or during Jungkook's birthday when Jimin, Jhope and Jin personally visited him at his apartment to celebrate. What about Suga and Rm? Where were they? (Taehyung couldn't come because I guess he had traveled and hadn't returned to Korea yet.)

However does this mean Suga and Rm hate Jungkook and didn't wish him well. But when it comes to Vmin, People exaggerate. It's almost like they are mocking them because it's like they claimed to be soulmates and yet are not living up to what they said but the thing is, they don't have to prove anything to anybody. They don't owe you any explanation. They have always been private and that's how it's always going to be.

As for Taehyung's interest in Wooga, he has been very vocal about his love for them even before now. Being friends with them has also boosted his career. He has done shows with them, in the soop and currently, this seojin kitchen programme. He has even collaborated with one of them, peak boy on a song. They are not just ordinary friends, they are somewhat his business partners. Anyway, Taehyung doesn't only hang out with them, he has other friends as well like park bo gum. He even posts pictures with his high school friends. However, we are only seeing all these from him because he now has his own personal social media account. Jimin has been there through all these and as we know has his own group of friends. But does it mean he doesn't hang out with his own friends even though he doesn't post pictures with them. He does only that he doesn't want to show you. However, despite all of his numerous friends, to Taehyung, Jimin is unique. He's his best friend. Okay one can argue it's fanservice but what about when Bts were filming ON music video and the little girl in the video spoke about how Taehyung introduced Jimin to her as his best friend. Or what about the time when Taehyung confessed on live TV that he likes Jimin the most. He did that on a broadcasting station where events would be organized by the stations staff and not hybe staff. If they wanted to go ahead with fan service, they wouldn't have blurred out the message Taehyung had written to Jimin but they did because it wasn't appropriate to show.

Now, Taehyung can hang out with Jungkook as much as he likes and it's still not proof of anything other than he enjoys spending time with him. But the fact that Vmin have lessened their public communication especially now more than ever is even more suspicious. Soon, they will both enlist in the military. Any unfavorable news might not spell well for them so It wouldn't be a surprise why they would want to keep things private.

After what I've mentioned above, it should be enough to convince anyone that they do communicate but I don't think they feel the need to show off. Anyway, I've said so much. I still have more to say but I will stop here. The only thing I can tell people is to be watchful and to not jump into conclusion simply based on what they see. We know nothing about their personal lives. Just as Jimin said back in 2020 about his relationship with Taehyung. As much as they would fight and argue with each other in the future, it would only make their bond stronger. With these said, have a great day and keep loving Vmin.

#vmin #bts #bts jimin #bts taehyung

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im-akira · 2 years

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𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 - « 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 ? »

Stephen Strange / Christine Palmer

Summary : Christine had been pregnant for many months now. Once Stephen returned home, Christine asked him if he wanted to feel the baby’s blows. How would the great Doctor Strange react to this situation ? Warnings : Fluff

Do not : Claim, Repost, Copy, or Translate my stories anywhere else.

I apologize in advance but English is not my mother tongue. 💙

Christine was sitting quietly in their common room. Sitting on a chair, she also had a footrest. This allowed him to be in a comfortable enough position to forget back pain for a few minutes. Stephen had prepared this little corner for her just before going on a mystical mission, even if he was not there physically when he woke up, this little gesture showed a certain presence. Later in the day, Stephen will be back early. In fact, ever since Christine told her that the baby was moving more and more, he certainly didn’t want to leave her alone at home or in case something happened. Stephen came home early also for another reason, he wanted to touch Christine’s stomach to see if the baby would react to his gesture but he was terrified inside. He was the great Doctor Strange and yet he was afraid of a little being who was not yet born. - « Are you writing a letter to one of your suitors ? » Asked Stephen kindly. He was standing against the edge of the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. Christine lifts her gaze from her sheet and then brings it to her husband. She didn't say anything, just that she saw him biting his lower lip, amused by the situation. - « Honey, tell me, who is the lucky one ? » He sounded arrogant and it paraded in his voice, daring her to play her game. « An Avengers ? Doctor ? » Christine smiled in the corner, understanding what Stephen was trying to do. She pays her attention to her sheet, occasionally looking at her husband with an amused look on her face.

- « Oh, no, don't tell me it's me. » Stephen stared at her, he was rather proud of himself for having played this game. Especially since Christine was absolutely not against it, he knew very well that if he crossed certain limits, he would stop immediately.

- « And the award for most oversized ego goes to… » Once she finishes her sentence, Christine will wave her hand wide to liven up her words as she observes Stephen. He was an arrogant man, sure of himself, even too much, but he could be attractive, adorable when he wanted.

- Stephen couldn't hold back his laughter in front of the scene and the accompanied gesture that Christine makes. He then sees her put her hand against the bump in her belly, as if something was wrong. Being the overprotective man that he was, he steps out of the door and quickly walks over to his wife. « How is our little angel ? Always so restless since his last days ? »

- Christine looked up slightly to see Stephen again. She could see in his eyes that he was dying to come and touch the baby, but he must have been just as scared. « Do you want to touch ? » Christine smiled slightly, stroking her stomach with one of her hands. She tried to reassure him as much as she could through her question and her gaze.

Stephen fidgeted at first, unable to say a word. Instead, he displayed multiple expressions on his face. It was only very recently that the baby started to get restless and he never dared to put his hands there for fear of making risky manners with them. Christine's question had agitated and at the same time reassured him. Once he's calmed down, he smiles at Christine to make sure he understands her request.

- Christine gives him a big smile in return. « Come, you don't have to be afraid Stephen, this baby is a human being like you and me. »

Without a word, Stephen approaches with a little hesitation. Cloak leaves his shoulders to come nest next to Christine. He showed Stephen that he would be there if anything happened. Even though it was a cloak, a simple mystical object for some wizards, Cloak could feel a lot of things. And he could feel that the baby was growing day by day, and he was eager to know the child that was to be born.

Stephen smiles at his best friend, then kneels down in front of Christine. His hands were shaking, even with magic, they were freezing. But it is with courage that he comes to lay his hand gently against the bump. And a few seconds later, he felt a blow against his hand. Both surprised, but happy to have felt this.

- « Did you feel that ? »

- « Yes, it was...a very nice feeling. » But before Stephen withdrew his hand, he was given a second blow, less hard than the previous one. « The baby is not yet born and has already chosen… »

- « Honey, you can't say you're already his favorite just because you got two blows. » Christine was smiling and laughing at the same time, lego that owning Stephen was quite fun to watch from her point of view sometimes.

- « Did you get multiple blows ? » Stephen stays on his knees in front of Christine, smirking after asking her question. - « No, but that doesn't prove anything. »

- « Mmh… Mmh…" Stephen gets up from his position and comes to place a soft kiss on Christine's lips. He was smiling, because he was happy and because he knew he was right. « We'll see then that once this child is born. »

Sweetheart, you look a little tired

The days passed and the baby continued to grow, which greatly exhausted Christine. His body made him go through quite uncomfortable pains, which sometimes prevented him from closing his eyes at night. Stephen had noticed it and he was going to do everything to make him forget his pain.

When did you last eat ?

Christine's appetite had changed, especially when it came to her tastes on certain dishes or foods. At first, she was allowed hormonal changes that increased her appetite, but as the baby grew, her appetite diminished. There too, Stephen wanted to support her, learning to cook some meals. Green vegetables were the main ingredients that Stephen added to his dishes.

Tell me, is something wrong ? It's okay if you can't find the words

Stephen saw it and sensed it, Christine was hiding things from him. Her feelings about the current situation. He could decipher it without her saying a word, he could read it through her and through her body. Stephen knew her.

Let me take your coat And this weight off of your shoulders

There was always communication between them, but now it was different. One evening, silence weighed on their common room. Stephen placed his trembling hands against his wife’s belly. Yeah, his body changed, they didn’t really have time for them for the fun side, so much that the list would be way too long. However, Stephen didn’t care about any of this, he wanted to show her that he would be there for her and their baby and that no change about her could change his mind about the fact that he loves her with all his being.

Tell me where it hurts

After that night, Christine apologized to Stephen and she opened up to him again. Explaining why she didn't say much about how she felt. She had fears, regrets, in the face of this pregnancy and the days that have advanced. Christine was thrilled to be able to give birth, but she was also terrified of what could happen during delivery. Luckily for her, Stephen was there to protect and reassure her.

I will love you without any strings attached

Eventually, over the next few months, Stephen received many blows from the baby. Christine was amused to see her husband's attitude, he was happy to be the favourite, that was a certainty for him. Christine had the right every morning and evening, to several papouilles on the stomach. Even if his body no longer allowed him to do much for the moment, Stephen did his best to prove him just the opposite. For many nights, he was also always behind her, grabbing her hand to clasp her fingers and place them on her stomach. It wasn't a lot but it was a beautiful closeness that Stephen wanted to share with Christine but also with their child. Despite his absences, he would be there for them, for his family.

- Stephen will drop a sweet kiss behind Christine’s head by finishing through sweet words « We will experience the birth of our child as the most accessible chance to grasp the meaning of the word miracle. »

- Tag : @j08dog @wild-storm-33 @toviedo @darkgreencape @michxlle7 @liliwandamoff @strangesthirdeye @gleek-diaries-of-90210 @hellorachelmarianamorgan @just--a-magpie @pinkthick

If you want to be marked on my future stories, let me know in the comments. Thank you again for reading ! 😊

#stephenstrange #stephen strange x reader #doctor stephen strange #doctorstrange #doctor strange #doctor strange fluff #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch #rachel mcadams #christinepalmer #christine palmer #palmerstrange fanfic #palmerstrange

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