#for someone who things largely in stories and words i cannot come up with the right ones right now
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Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko
AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.
SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1
Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)
KIDDIE FREE ZONE
Good Friends
That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.
But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.
As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."
The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-
His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.
Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.
Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.
Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.
The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.
It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.
#prince zuko#zuko#atla#zuko fanfic#zuko x reader#atla fanfic#avatar zuko#grumpy x sunshine#fluff#smut#imagine zuko#imagine#x reader
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Stranger Than Fiction
Part 28: Games
Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)
Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...
AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse
Itâs a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. Itâs comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these âmixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You donât fully understand how heâs able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms.Â
Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. Itâs the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics.Â
âPeople think Iâm insane, because Iâm frowning all the timeâŚÂ I need someone to show me the things in life that I canât find I canât see the things that make true happiness, I must be blind.â
âWho sings this?â You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy.Â
âBlack Sabbath.â He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. âItâs one of their older songs but it still holds up.â He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him.Â
âWait. I want to hear the rest.â You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume. Â Billy doesnât fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song.Â
âMake a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal⌠I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but itâs too lateâ
Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You donât know why you're squeezing Billyâs wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well.Â
âYou okay?â Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.
âYea, itâs just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all itâs actually really sad.â You explain. âLike a cry for help.â Billyâs lips quirk up slightly.
âMaybe thatâs what they were going for?â He says. âMusic is just another way to tell a story. Iâm surprised youâre not more into it.â He tells you, moving to exit the car. âIf you thought that was good Iâll have to show you some Bon Jovi.â He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. âIâm assuming you have no idea who that is.â Billy says with a smirk.Â
âYea yea, save it. Max already thinks Iâve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.â You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh.Â
âThat little shit wouldnât know dick about music if it werenât for me.â He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them.Â
âWell this is a first.â You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. âA whole different experience than coming in though the window.â You joke, stepping into the house.Â
âWe can always go around back if youâd feel more comfortable.â He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. Youâve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. Itâs not a large space and itâs clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around.Â
âI think Iâm good.â You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic.Â
Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Maxâs voice calls from her room.Â
âBilly, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.â She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like youâve been caught doing something you shouldnât, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach.Â
âHey Max.â You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy.Â
âWhatâs your malfunction?â Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable.Â
âAre you two dating?â Max asks bluntly.Â
âWhat?!â Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially.Â
âMind your own business you little shit.â Billy bites at the same time you try to explain.Â
âHeâs tutoring me in history.â A smirk, eerily similar to Billyâs, spreads across Maxâs face.Â
âIs that what they call it these days?â She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow.Â
âIf you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.â Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead.Â
âJeez, learn how to take a joke.â Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room.Â
âI swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.â He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. âBe ready in 20 minutes!â He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan.Â
âThatâs how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didnât have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and donât get me started on Hopper. Iâm pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.â You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years.Â
âSometimes being a kid isnât a good enough excuse.â Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago.Â
âNeil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so Iâm playing chauffeur for the day.â Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it.Â
âI donât mind helping watch her.â You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. Itâs not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you canât be sure that it wasnât always there.
âNeil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.â Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.
âItâs not âpawningâ them off on me. We would do it together.â You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what youâre touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.
This isnât just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it.Â
âHe wouldnât see it that way.â He tells you flatly.Â
âThen donât tell him.â You say simply, stepping fully into the room. âIâll help you out today and Iâll be gone by the time they get home. â you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. âJust like when we painted the porch.â You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. âConsider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isnât a fair trade.â You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile.Â
âFine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain⌠and leaving her alone is not an option.â He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves.Â
Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately.Â
âOh sorry, am I making you nervous?â He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. Heâs not touching you, but heâs close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.
âNo.â You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking.Â
âYou sure?â He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.
âIâm fine.â You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance.Â
âYou can tell me if youâre not.â Billy insists, his voice just as soft. Heâs flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. Heâs making sure you know heâll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.
âIâm okay.â You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-
âRight, thatâs what ânot datingâ looks like.â Maxâs voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door.Â
âFuck off!â He yells, slamming the door closed.Â
âI still need a ride!â Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billyâs shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans.Â
âYou sure you want in on this shit show?â He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind.Â
âOh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.â You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow.Â
âIâm more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.â He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes.Â
âI do have a life outside of this room you know.â You tell him. You wonât admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters.Â
Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism.Â
âCome on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.â You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder.Â
âIâm going to be late!â Max yells, pounding harder.Â
âBe my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.â Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billyâs confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if heâs a different person now too.Â
Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.
âFinally!â She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her.Â
âHey, Max?â You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. âDo you mind if I tag along to the arcade?â You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you.Â
âDid he ask you to babysit me?â She asks indignantly.Â
âNo!â You say, throwing your hands up. âI just thought you could teach me some stuff. Iâm not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.â You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs.Â
âFine. But donât try to talk to me while Iâm playing. It throws me off.â She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll.Â
The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. Itâs a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out.Â
âIâll meet you in there.â you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. âYou coming?â you ask Billy, leaning back into the car.Â
âHell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldnât pay me to go into that dork pit.â He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness.Â
��Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.â you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return.Â
âWhimsy?â He asks, his lip curling at the word.Â
âIâll buy you a coke.â you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billyâs lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth.Â
âFine.â he says after a moment. âBut I have to run an errand real quick.â He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes.Â
âYou promise to come in when you get back?â you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.
âWhat are you 12?â He asks. When you donât show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. âFine, yes. I promise Iâll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.â He promises with a teasing smirk.Â
âGood.â you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. âAnd Iâm not that bad.â you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb.Â
It turns out that you ARE that bad.Â
Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she canât stand watching you throw away quarters like that. Youâre a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. Itâs alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores.Â
The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but donât seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume heâs anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though youâve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You canât say that you donât understand where heâs coming from.Â
Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group.Â
After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and itâs located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game.Â
Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. Youâre able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging.Â
âFuckâŚâ you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.
âHey.â Keithsâ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other.Â
âHi Keith.â you reply politely. You arenât sure why heâs approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. âWhatâs up?â you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak.Â
âI see you around sometimes.â he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You donât know what to say to that.
âYea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.â you tell him.Â
âThatâs cool.â he mumbles âYou know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?â He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you canât help your slight cringe.Â
âNo, Iâm actually with-â you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders.Â
âMe.â He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights.Â
âO-oh, cool.â Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. âNevermind thenâ he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.
âIâll see you around.â you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billyâs side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.
âWhat was that for?â he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling.Â
âDid you have to mad dog him? He was just saying âHiâ.â you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game.Â
âYea, right.â He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. âYou didnât see how heâs been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come âsay hiâ.â he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words.Â
âAnd how long were you watching that?â You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.
âYouâre missing the point.â He tells you, deflecting the question.Â
âWhat point is that?â You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on.Â
âThe point is that youâre playing a game you donât know the rules of and guys like that-â he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. âWill take advantage of that.â he tells you, his voice low. You know heâs too close. That you should take a step back. That the way heâs looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath.Â
âIâm not really good at games.â you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you canât seem to look away. Billyâs sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission.Â
âI knowâŚâ He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. âI just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.â He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.
âYou stalker!â you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. âAnd I was multitasking.â you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga.Â
âSure, sure. Let me show you how itâs done.â he says confidently, starting the queued up game.Â
âHey! That was my quarter!â You protest. Billy only chuckles again.
âIâll get the next one, crazy.â he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.
AN: sorry this took so long... again!
@official-starcourt-mall@lem0ns77@bethii1 @wysteria-arts @fanficfanatic204 @theshinyrock @spacedaddydinn @raidxny @emmyawards1 @lucxxy @leia9817 @wounded-writing @taisab02 @goblinpit @howlerwolfmax @kilvru3 @blueberry-birdie @flamewriterr @im-julessssss @tsukibaby1@mikeyswifie@superblyspeedydragon @let-love-bleeds-red @m-rae23 @msrawog @speakinglikeconstellations @taintedxkisses @pineapleavocado @hawkinsavclub1983 @arael-asuka @velvet-spider @extra-3motions @uniquecookiepainterbear @crimsonsabbath @mushy-mushroom04 @jevdidv @vermillionwinter@black-kitten-imagines@sammysgirl1997@fillechatoyante @chaoticbilly @tmriddler @stanseventeen@katzenwahnsinn@wisdomcrys@twoochickens @devrill @loadivine@hermankopusortizorsumshite@0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @primalsnack @peachyaeger@royaltysuite @sunnmoonsstuff @sobleedstherose@harmonics0537 @urmom-0987 @halbhohehalluzination@ladyapplejackdnd
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Descendants James Hook x Reader: The Kiss That Set Us Free
Request: Hiiii! Can I maybe request a James Hook X female reader where some princess gives James a love potion? Reader has to save the day with true loves kiss ofc (definitely not stealing the plot of descendants 2)
Reader: Female
Word count: 3168
Average reading time: 11 min 30 sec
Category: Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: None
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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.
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Merlin Academy was a place where the children of royals and villains alike attended, a melting point of clashing destinies and unbreakable friendships. Among its students was Y/N, a poor girl who had earned her place through a scholarship. Though she had no fancy title, she carried herself with a quiet strength that intrigued many, including James Hook.
James Hook was known for his mysterious charm and flirtatious nature. He had taken a particular interest in Y/N, often observing her and finding excuses to be near her. Despite her initial confusion as to why someone like James would pay her any attention, Y/N couldn't deny the flutter in her heart whenever he was around.
Just like today, Y/N took place under a large oak tree, absorbed in her studies. She was so focused on her book that she didn't notice James approaching until his shadow fell over her pages.
"Fancy finding you here, lass." James said, a playful hint in his voice.
Y/N looked up, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of his familiar smirk. "James! You startled me."
"Apologies." he said, though the twinkle in his eye suggested he wasn't entirely sincere. "What are you studying so intensely?"
"Just some history." Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "We have a test coming up."
James leaned against the tree, his gaze never leaving her face. "Always so dedicated. It's one of the things I admire about you."
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "I just... want to do well. Prove that I belong here."
James tilted his head, his expression softening. "You more than belong here, lass. You're one of the brightest students at Merlin Academy. Don't let anyone make you think otherwise."
She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her book. "It's just... sometimes it feels like I don't fit in. Everyone here has a legacy, a name. I'm just... Y/N."
James crouched down beside her, his fingers gently lifting her chin so she would meet his gaze. "You're not 'just' anything, darling. You're remarkable. Titles and legacies are overrated, anyway."
Y/N's breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. "You really think so?"
"I know so." James said firmly. "And if anyone gives you trouble, they'll have to answer to me."
She couldn't help but smile at his protectiveness. "You don't have to do that, James. I can take care of myself."
He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent shivers down her spine. "I have no doubt about that. But I like taking care of you."
Y/N's blush deepened, and she looked away, trying to compose herself. "Why are you so nice to me?"
James's expression grew serious. "Because you deserve it. And because, Y/n, you intrigue me. You're not afraid of me, or my reputation. You see me beyond the hook."
"I don't understand why you'd pay attention to someone like me." Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
James moved closer, his fingers brushing against hers. "Maybe it's because I see something in you that you don't see in yourself. Maybe it's because you're different from anyone else here. Or maybe, lass, it's because I can't help but be drawn to you."
Her heart raced as she met his gaze again, the sincerity in his eyes making her feel both vulnerable and cherished. "James, I..."
Before she could finish, he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just know, darling, that you have my attention. Always."
Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, her heart fluttering wildly. She had never felt this way before, and it both excited and terrified her. But as she looked into James's eyes, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she didn't need to understand why he paid attention to her. Maybe it was enough to know that he did.
-----
Over the next few weeks, James continued to find reasons to be near Y/N, their interactions filled with teasing banter and stolen glances. Despite her initial confusion and insecurities, Y/N found herself growing more comfortable around him, her feelings for him deepening with each passing day.
As Y/N was in the library, her nose buried in yet another book, this time about magical creatures. James sauntered in, his eyes immediately finding her at a corner table. With a mischievous grin, he approached her quietly, leaning over her shoulder.
"Finding anything interesting, lass?" he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
Y/N jumped, her heart racing. "James! You promised to stop scaring me."
He chuckled, pulling out a chair and sitting beside her. "Stop scaring you, but darling thatâs my specialty. And I simply can't resist seeing that cute little jump of yours."
She rolled her eyes, trying to hide her blush. "What do you want, James?"
"Just checking on my favorite student." he said, resting his chin on his hand as he gazed at her. "What are you reading?"
"It's about magical creatures." she replied, closing the book slightly to show him the cover. "I have an assignment on them."
He leaned in closer, his face inches from hers. "Fascinating. Which one's your favorite so far?"
She glanced at him, her pulse quickening at their proximity. "I like the phoenix. It's a symbol of rebirth and resilience."
"Like you." he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "Me?"
James nodded. "You're strong, Y/n. Stronger than you realize. And you're constantly rising above everything thrown your way."
She looked down, biting her lip to hide her smile. "Thank you, James. That means a lot coming from you."
He reached out, gently lifting her chin so she would meet his gaze again. "I mean every word."
-----
Another day, Y/N was walking to class when she felt a hand slip into hers. She turned to see James, his usual smirk playing on his lips.
"Thought I'd escort you to class." he said casually.
"You don't have to do that." she replied, though she didn't pull her hand away.
"I want to." he insisted, giving her hand a light squeeze. "Besides, I enjoy your company."
As they walked, James began to whistle a familiar tune. Y/N laughed softly. "Is that 'A Pirate's Life for Me'?"
He grinned. "A classic, don't you think?"
She shook her head, amused. "Only you, James."
"Well, I am a pirate's son, after all," he said with a wink. "It runs in the blood."
They reached her classroom, and he reluctantly let go of her hand. "I'll see you later, darling."
"See you, James." she replied, her heart fluttering as she watched him walk away.
-----
One evening, Y/N was sitting by the enchanted lake, enjoying the peace and quiet when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see James approaching, carrying a small picnic basket.
"Mind some company?" he asked, settling down beside her without waiting for an answer.
"What's in the basket?" she inquired, curious.
"Thought we'd have a little picnic." he said, opening it to reveal an assortment of fruits, cheese, and pastries. "I figured you'd like it."
Her heart warmed at the thoughtfulness. "This is really sweet, James."
He shrugged, though she could see the pleased look in his eyes. "I aim to please."
They sat together, sharing the food and talking about their classes and dreams. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the lake, James turned to her, a serious look in his eyes.
"You know, lass, I enjoy these moments with you more than anything else at this academy."
Y/N felt her breath hitch. "Really?"
"Really." he said, his voice soft. "There's something about you, Y/N. You make everything... better."
She blushed, looking down at their entwined fingers. "You do the same for me, James."
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear. "Good to know, darling. Because I'm not planning on letting you go anytime soon."
Her heart soared at his words, the fluttering in her chest intensifying. Though she still didn't understand why James Hook would be interested in a poor scholarship student like her, she couldn't deny the happiness it brought her. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she belonged. And as long as James was by her side, she knew she could face anything that came her way.
-----
Sadly, that wonderful feeling for Y/N didnât last very long as her suspicions were confirmed that James was, in fact, not interested in her at all. As today, the atmosphere at Merlin Academy was disrupted when princess Aurora approached Bridget for one of her famous pink flamingo cupcakes. Bridget, ever the sweetheart, happily obliged, unaware of Aurora's true intentions. Aurora had a love potion, and she discreetly applied it to the cupcake before offering it to James.
James was lounging near the fountain, chatting with some of his fellow students when Aurora walked over, a charming smile on her lips. "James, my love." she cooed, holding out the cupcake. "I thought you might like a treat."
James raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. "What's the occasion, Aurora?"
"No occasion." Aurora replied, batting her eyelashes. "Just thought you'd enjoy it."
He hesitated for a moment before taking the cupcake, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Well, I never say no to sweets." he said with a grin, taking a bite. As he chewed, a strange, dazed look came over his face.
Y/N, who had been sitting nearby, noticed the interaction and felt a feeling of unease wash over her. She watched as James's usual playful banter with her ceased abruptly. He turned to Aurora, his eyes filled with an intense, almost unnatural adoration.
"Aurora." he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "You look... stunning today."
Aurora giggled, pleased with the immediate effect of the potion. "Thank you, James. You're so sweet."
Y/N's heart sank as she witnessed James showering Aurora with compliments and attention. It was as if she no longer existed in his world. The playful glances, the teasing comments, the stolen moments, they all vanished in an instant.
James walked over to where Y/N sat, but instead of his usual greeting, he barely acknowledged her. "Hey, Y/N." he said curtly, his eyes never leaving Aurora.
"Hi, James." Y/N replied softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "Are you okay?"
"Never better." he said, smiling dreamily at Aurora. "I just realized how incredible Aurora is."
Y/N's heart broke at his words. She tried to keep her composure, but the pain was evident in her eyes. "I see."
Aurora, noticing Y/N's discomfort, smirked triumphantly. "James, why don't we go for a walk? I'd love to spend more time with you."
"Of course." he said eagerly, offering his arm. "Anything for you, princess."
As they walked away together, Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek. Bridget and Ella, who had been watching from a distance, quickly came over to comfort her.
"Y/N, are you alright?" Ella asked, concern etched on her face.
"No, I'm not." Y/N admitted, wiping away her tears. "I thought... I thought James liked me. But I guess I was wrong."
Bridget hugged her tightly. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. We didn't know Aurora would do something like this."
"It's not your fault." Y/N said, her voice trembling. "I just have to accept that someone like James could never be interested in someone like me."
Ella shook her head fiercely. "That's not true, Y/N. You're amazing, and if James can't see that, then he's the one who's missing out."
"Yeah." Bridget agreed. "We'll figure this out. Maybe there's something more to this."
Y/N nodded, though her heart still ached. She couldn't deny the happiness James had brought her, but now, seeing him with Aurora, she felt like an outsider once more. Just like back then Y/n questioned her place at Merlin Academy.Â
-----
Noticing Y/N's sudden withdrawal, Bridget and Ella grew increasingly concerned. They watched as she became quieter than ever, only showing up when absolutely necessary for classes. Her usual warmth and laughter were replaced with a haunting silence.
As Bridget and Ella found her sitting alone by the edge of the forest, staring blankly at the ground.
"Y/N, we need to talk." Bridget said softly, sitting down beside her.
Ella nodded, sitting on her other side. "You've been so distant lately. We're worried about you."
Y/N sighed, trying to hold back tears. "It's just... James. Seeing him with Aurora, it hurts more than I thought it would."
Bridget placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We know, Y/N. But there's something strange about all this. James wasn't acting like himself."
Ella leaned in, her eyes filled with determination. "We think Aurora did something to him. We have to find out what."
Meanwhile, Uliana, Morgie, Hades, and Maleficent were observing James's strange behavior. They gathered in a secluded corner of the academy grounds to discuss their suspicions.
"Something's definitely off with James." Uliana said, her eyes narrowing. "He's not acting like himself at all."
Hades crossed his arms, his expression serious. "Aurora must have used a spell on him. It's the only explanation."
Morgie nodded in agreement. "We need to do something about this. James may be a flirt, but he wouldn't abandon us like this."
Maleficent, her eyes glinting with a hint of malice, spoke up. "There's one way to break a love spell. True love's kiss."
Uliana smirked, her gaze turning towards Y/N. "And I think we know just the person who can help."
The group of villains approached Y/N, Bridget, and Ella, their presence causing a tense silence to fall over the group.
"Y/N." Uliana began, her tone surprisingly gentle. "We believe James has been spelled by Aurora. We need your help to break it."
Y/N looked up, confusion and hope mingling in her eyes. "Me? How can I help?"
"True love's kiss." Morgie explained, a sly smile on his lips. "Itâs the only way to break the spell."
Y/N's heart raced. "But... why me? Why would James love me?"
Maleficent stepped forward, her gaze piercing. "Youâre underestimating yourself. James has always had a soft spot for you. If anyone can break this spell, it's you."
Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing with doubt and fear. "But what if it doesn't work? What if he doesn't really love me?"
Hades sighed, his fiery hair flickering with frustration. "We won't know until you try. Do you want to save him or not?"
Bridget and Ella squeezed Y/Nâs hands reassuringly. "You can do this, Y/N. We believe in you."
Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. "Alright. Iâll try it."
-----
As the night fell, Y/N approached James, with slight fear, her heart pounding in her chest. The intensity of his gaze, now directed only at Aurora, was disheartening. She braced herself, reaching up to cup his face, and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss.
To her shock, the spell broke instantly. James blinked, his eyes clearing as the enchantment faded. Bridget and Ella squealed in delight, while Uliana, Maleficent, Morgie, and Hades smirked knowingly.
James, now fully back to his senses, wasted no time. He pulled Y/N firmly against him, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. He kissed her again, deeper and more passionately, as if to make up for lost time. When he pulled back, his eyes held nothing but sincerity.
"Be mine, darling." he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.
Y/N's heart raced, her cheeks flushing at his intense gaze. "James... I..."
Before she could finish, Aurora's furious voice cut through the moment. "How could you choose her, a peasant, over me, a princess?" she spat, her eyes blazing with anger.
James didn't falter. Instead, he pulled Y/N even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Stay still, love."
He then stood behind her, his arms securely around her waist, and pressed a kiss to her neck. Y/N shivered at the sensation, her body leaning back against him. James kept his eyes locked on Aurora, a challenging smirk playing on his lips.
"Tell me Aurora, why would I want a princess who spells me." he said, his voice low and dangerous, "when I have my own princess who would let the world burn for me?"
Aurora's face twisted with rage. "You fool! You don't know what you're throwing away!"
Before James could respond, Maleficent stepped forward, her aura radiating power and intimidation. "Watch your tongue, Aurora. Or Iâll put you to sleep for eternity." she threatened, her voice cold.
James's smirk widened as he felt Y/N relax slightly in his arms. "Aurora." he continued, his tone mocking, "A princess who uses spells to get what she wants is no match for a girl with a heart as pure and strong as Y/n's."
Aurora's eyes darted around, looking for support, but found none. The others stood firm, their expressions resolute. Even Hades, with his usual nonchalance, had a hint of protective fire in his eyes as he watched the scene unfold.
James turned his attention back to Y/N, his expression softening. "Lass, you're my princess, with or without a crown."
Y/N's heart swelled at his words, tears of happiness welling up in her eyes. She looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. "James, I... I don't have a title or riches. I'm just me."
James cupped her face in his hands, his eyes filled with adoration. "You don't need titles or riches to be special, Y/N. You're everything I want. And if it's a name you're worried about, how about becoming Y/N Hook? Sounds pretty good, doesnât it? My pirate princess."
Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening. "You mean that?"
"Every word." James replied, his voice unwavering. "I love you, Y/N. I want you by my side, always."
As they stood together, surrounded by their friends, Y/N realized that love and loyalty mattered far more than any crown ever could. She leaned into James, feeling safe and cherished in his arms.
Aurora, seeing that she had lost, turned on her heel and stormed away, her face a mask of fury. Maleficent watched her go, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Well, I suppose the sleeping curse can wait. Pity I didnât get to use it now." she muttered.
Bridget and Ella rushed forward, enveloping Y/N and James in a big hug. "We knew it!" Bridget exclaimed. "We knew you two were meant to be together!"
Uliana, Morgie, Maleficent and Hades exchanged smirks, their eyes gleaming with approval. "About time." Uliana said, her voice filled with satisfaction.
James pressed another kiss to Y/N's neck, his breath warm against her skin. "I love you, darling." he whispered, his voice filled with unwavering devotion.
Y/N turned in his arms, her eyes meeting his. "I love you too, James."
As they kissed again, a cheer went up from their friends, and for the first time, Y/N felt like she truly belonged. With James by her side she knew that this will be her once upon a time.
Copyright: All stories contained herein are the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorized copying, reproduction, or distribution of these stories, in whole or in part, without explicit written permission from the author, is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action. Respect the creator's rights and creativity. For permissions or inquiries, please contact: [email protected].
Request Guidelines: When submitting a request, please ensure that your request does not contain any explicit sexual content or graphic depictions, and avoid any form of extreme violence or graphic descriptions of violent acts. I appreciate your understanding and cooperation in maintaining a respectful and inclusive environment for all readers. If you're unsure about your request or want to request about someone I haven't written about yet, feel free to ask me anytime.
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Requested by: Anonymous
#descendants#descendants 2#descendants 3#descendants 4#descendants rise of red#descendants the rise of red#the rise of red#james hook#james hook x reader#james hook x y/n#james hook x you#fanfic#fanfiction#y/n#x reader#disney#auradon#Isle of the Lost#disney descendants#james hook oneshot#oneshot#james hook imagine#imagine#merlin academy
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Since guts and blackpowder gives us free range for the characters hereâs some personal headcanons for their personalities and lives given you can only psychoanalyze them so much. This is as realistic as I can make it based off surface level psychoanalysis + untrue garbage I made up.
Barry:
Despite his short temper (Typical brit) Williams is socially inept and shy. Like super timid. That dumb little softboy persona he has going on there shouldnât be an indicator that he isnât dangerous. Dude literally got trained as an infantry solider. He doesnât want to hurt people, in fact, he avoids it when he can. The war is needless to him and he doesnât understand why theyâd draft someone like him â a lowly stableboy whoâs quite known in his village for treating his horses and farm animals like his babies. His overly affectionate and polite personality (which came directly from his overbearing mother) has landed him a lot of bullying by his peers. Aforementioned hesitation to the enemy, but to zombies? Heâs under the belief theyâre from satan himself like the rest of the world. Afraid of them, but feels a spiritual duty to slay Godâs enemies.
Jean:
Heâs overly paranoid of Napoleon failing, and holds those french revolutionary beliefs. He wants Napoleon to win, so badly. He really doesnât want his children living in a world with a stupid monarchy eating better than they do. Jean has no comprehension that maybe Napoleon isnât the best fit for a countryâs leader, in fact heâll yell at you if you suggest otherwise. His wife died during childbirth and this, coupled with war has hardened him. He has never laid a single hand on his children because his father was deeply abusive, and of course this resulted in a pretty pessimistic, sad, depressed mess of a man. Constantly wanting better and yet fearing the worst. Heâs a tough love kind of fatherly friend. Eat your damn rations or you will die. Speaking of which he literally wants to die :D
Jacob:
If this were modern day heâd be legally blind. His clumsiness isnât the result of stupidity. The direct opposite in fact. He overthinks his job way too much and couple that with his dogshit eyesight, itâs no wonder he has a track record of being the napoleonic warâs personal south park Kenny. If ever a cartoon were made, I could l definitely see him in the background nailing in stakes incorrectly and getting confused as to why it wasnât as affective as the other sapperâs. He has two sisters back at home and they hate him. Theyâre pro-monarchy, he isnât. He raised and took care of these awful pieces of shit. Who were independent thinking teenagers by the time their parents died of sickness. So he couldnât really influence them even if he tried. He has largely remained non(?) un(?) courted and unmarried his entire life. Hes a huge wine mom induced by stress and if you ever asked him why he never took a wife, heâd start spontaneously crying probably. Sad drunk. Cannot show emotions unless heâs drunk.
Karl / Unnamed Officer:
Selective mutism, ambition.. Way too much ambition. He wants to take down Napoleon himself and even fully believes heâs capable of doing so. Wants to cheat his way above the ranks somehow. He hides this and refuses to reveal his intentions to virtually anyone. Trying to get as close to the general as possible. Not because he agrees with the monarchy thing, but he just wants the fame and glory that comes along with executing him. The other men have horrible tempers but him? Holy. shit. He does not usually act upon his anger but as a wise man once said, âSilence speaks louder than words.â He silently judges those heâs angry at. Could imagine him getting teased, gripping a damn teacup so hard that it shatters in his hand and causes the entire room to go quiet. His whole regiment is batshit TERRIFIED of him. He refuses to betray his life story, let alone if he has any family. Nobody knows crap about him and that furthers the fear. Karl literally popped out of nowhere and his adorable babyface and gentle voice has won him the hearts of women wishing to be his wives⌠Whom he rudely pushed away in disgust. Has anyone seen that one scene in pootie tang where a woman is simping after him, and so he slips her a bowl of milk like a fucking clingy cat? Yeah I feel Karl would pull something like that.
#jordan.txt#guts and blackpowder#g&b#karl guts and blackpowder#jacob guts and blackpowder#jean guts and blackpowder#barry guts and blackpowder#unnamed prussian officer
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Nobody needs another TTRPG taxonomy but I made one anyway
Posted here: https://seedlinggames.com/blogging/discourse/game_taxonomy_part_1_v_1.html I have a second blog post that is going to explain the small diagonal line, but basically it's that I think there is influence between those two camps that people don't seem to talk about much, probably due to internet discourse reasons
A million people have already done this - I'm kind of assuming you have vaguely absorbed the existing Internet discussions, and are familiar with terms like OSR, Story Games, etc. If you haven't, run away now and save yourself. But Six Cultures Of Play is probably a prerequisite to understand what I'm talking about, or at least what I'm complaining about.
I will try to, as much as possible, only discuss games that I have played. A lot of taxonomies seem to be written by someone who clearly likes one type of game a lot more than the others. For instance, I will not be discussing LARP because I don't have any relevant experience. I'm also not claiming that I am discussing the complete set of all games that exist, but I think I have played enough of them propose a taxonomy. If you're curious, I have an approximately complete list of games I've played or run here.
What is a TTRPG?
First we're going to have to look at everyone's other least favourite subject of conversation.
TTRPGs have 2 or more people taking on the following 3 roles:
A player, who is responsible for one or more characters who are the protagonists of the story.
A GM, who is responsible for the remainder of the story, such as providing additional characters and other aspects of the environment that the main players exist in. To do so they might determine the outcome of uncertain events or interpret rules agreed upon by the table.
An author, who provides additional, reusable material without being present. I'm using the term "author" for a lack of a better one, but it includes game books, blog posts, maps, drawings, or even fixed principles transmitted orally from game group to game group. These serve to facilitate or even replace GMing, as well as to introduce new ideas to the table without someone being physically present.
The same person often takes on different roles at different times, sometimes in the same game.
If you have only one of these roles, you are probably writing a book, doing improv, or some other activity. Which is of course totally fine.
This isn't the only definition you could come up with, but I think most people would agree it isn't totally wrong, and it's a lens that I'll be using to discuss the game taxonomy.
Maximalist Games
Apparently "maximalist" means something specific in art but I am not educated in such things and might be using the word wrong.
Characteristics of a maximalist game:
The three roles: clearly present and distinct, with the GM and author each taking on a large responsibility for the game experience.
Modularity: Semi-modular: There is a main game system which is designed to be extended by other modules, but these modules cannot be used with other games easily. A game book is typically not a self-contained experience and games are usually open-ended in duration.
Rules: A lengthy, complex ruleset with subsystems for resolving different parts of the game that are likely to come up, primarily oriented around the success or failure of an action and its consequences.
Characters: The complex game mechanics provide an opportunity for players to develop a distinct character before playing them, defined by game mechanics. Character and player motivations are usually aligned.
Narrative structure: Campaigns usually follow conventional narrative structure, but this is driven primarily by the GM, or by adventure modules, which define an outline of the narrative.
Who makes them: Often require more resources to create and thus are made by corporations, but that is changing.
Relationship to other media: While often inspired by fantasy novels, their larger budget and longer history has allowed some of them to develop their own genre conventions distinct from other media, and in some cases have inspired movies and books.
Solo games: Rare, due to the prominent role of the GM.
"Trad" games are a subset of these but a) I hate that word and b) I think the genre, starting especially with 4E and other inspired games, have gone in some very different directions. It roughly corresponds to "Fight D&D" in the Between Two Cairns taxonomy, but some games in this category involve no fighting at all.
Narrative Mechanics Games
The three roles: Blur the lines between GM and player more freely.
Modularity: Usually not very. Each game is made to create a specific experience, and the blurring of GM and player roles makes adding external content more complicated.
Rules: Focused on resolving problems in the context of narrative structures. Rules may facilitate pacing, allow for storytelling outside of linear time, allow players to temporarily take on a GM-like role, and allow for players to work together to create conflict between their characters.
Characters: Mechanics facilitate creating characters according to genre conventions with defined relationships to other characters and to NPCs. Player and character motivations are often not aligned.
Narrative structure: Rules are designed to support conventional narrative structures and genre conventions.
Who makes them: The focused scope of these games mean that they are often made by individuals rather than corporations, but there is a trend towards some of them being made by mid-sized organizations. Long development cycles may be needed to provide a polished experience, leading to some amount of professionalization.
Relationship to other media: Usually strongly inspired by other media, allowing you to create stories similar to movies, books, TV shows, etc.
Solo games: Rare, with Ironsworn as a notable exception.
Some "story games" fall into this, but I think "story games" has split into two meaningfully distinct categories. I've met enough people who only like one of the two categories. I think they are perceived as more similar than they are because there's less internet drama about the difference between them.
Prompt-based storytelling
The three roles: Blur the lines between the GM, player and author, with the GM often being absent.
Modularity: Usually self-contained experiences with limited modularity.
Rules: Often entirely forego mechanics for failure or success; mechanics tend to be minimal and about making suggestions regarding the story to tell, with the written text sometimes acting primarily as a GM or even player who is not present.
Characters: Character creation is usually a minor to nonexistent part of the game, with characters being defined by decisions made at the table. In some cases, all characters are already predefined. Characters are usually defined in words rather than numbers. Player and character motivations are rarely aligned.
Narrative structure: Stories often forego conventional narrative structures, and are focused around exploring relationships, ideas, or experiences. If a narrative structure is defined, it is usually in the form of a defined endpoint, with the purpose of the game being to explore how the characters get there.
Who makes them: Leans heavily towards DIY or single creators. Often comes in formats other than books.
Relationship to other media: Inspiration comes less from established genres and more from life experiences. Genre fiction is less likely to be an inspiration.
Solo games: Very common, due to the reduced role of the GM.
Adventure/exploration games
The three roles: Blur the lines between GM and author, both at the table and culturally.
Modularity: Are highly modular: not only are supplements and adventures often interchangeable, but are often not tied to specific systems.
Rules: Have relatively short rulesets focused on generating situations (on the GM side) and resolving danger (on the player side).
Characters: Characters are mostly created organically in play through interactions with the environment, including the tools at their disposal. Random generation is common. Character and player motivations are usually aligned.
Narrative structure: Campaigns often do not follow a typical narrative structure, aside from perhaps an escalation in danger, scope and/or strangeness.
Who makes them: Their modular nature means that they are often created in a DIY manner, through zines, blog posts, and informal discussions, though mid-size companies are also prevalent.
Relationship to other media: Inspiration from other media is often mostly vibes-based, with genre fiction, folklore, and even musical genres and political movements (for better or worse) being prominent. It doesn't seek to emulate the characters or narrative structure of other genres.
Solo games: Relatively common, usually provided by an additional module that may be specific and general-purpose, often focused on a GM emulator known as an "oracle."
"OSR" games are a subset of these, but a good number of these also make many OSR people very angry. It roughly corresponds to "Door D&D", but dungeon crawling is not inherent to this genre.
Other ways of looking at these categories
You could also map these on axes:
distinct GM/player/writer role vs combined roles: maximalist vs prompt-based at opposite ends of this spectrum
Highly self-contained vs highly modular: narrative vs adventure/exploration
Strong genre conventions vs naturalistic approach: maximalist/narrative vs adventure/exploration/prompt based
Resembles a D&D vs does not really resemble a D&D: maximalist/adventure/exploration vs narrative/prompt based
for symmetry I want to put another axis for maximalist/prompt based but I can't think of anything they have in common. Oh well.
But I also don't think this is a complete enumeration of all possible types of games either - this is some kind of n-dimensional space that has only 4 blobs on it
The part of the taxonomy blog post where you realize this is actually just me going on about my own preferences this entire time
I've played and enjoyed all 4 types of games, but putting this together has helped me figure something out - why it is that I like both the NSR side of OSR games and like the "super weird" story games. And why I don't seem to be the only one, even though these are often talked about as opposites. Because if you split story games into two genres, the similarities between prompt-based games and adventure/exploration games comes out.
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Just Another Notch
Bucky Barnes x Plus!Reader Masterlist
Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then youâre gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong. PART 4/? Part 5
An: Hey all, sorry I havenât updated this baby in months. Gonna try and work on it more from now on. Hopefully itâll be finished before the end of the year đ¤đ
Word Count: 1,278 (not proofread)
You never found him. After trekking through a path of destruction you realized, you didnât know where exactly Bruce lives; better yet anywhere besides the lab he considers home. Once large foot prints and fallen trees ceased, so did your trail. You havenât yet trained on tracking, so someone on foot could allude you indefinitely.
When you made it back to the compound, Friday announced âStark will see you in his office, Ms. Y/L/N.â. You hadnât even walked in the door, and already Bruceâs mess was piling up on your lap. As if you had control over a gamma radiated mutant.
Tony had another thing coming If he thinks youâll pay damages. Your salary consisted of room and board, and a part time paycheck that you sent home to help your parents. Solid wood floors werenât in your budget.
When you make it to Tonyâs office it looks crowded. You can see Natasha, Steve and Bucky all standing around his desk, arms crossed with annoyed looks on their faces. This isnât good, and itâs all your fault, you shouldâve swallowed it, never mentioned it to Bruce.
You knock on the glass door, catching the attention of the the most attractive people youâve ever seen. Their harsh gaze made you wish your X gene was invisibility. âYou wanted to see me, Stark?â You pipe up, hoping the faster you get this over with, the easier it will be. You brave your face to the room, not putting your head down in shame. You wonât let this destroy you, you wonât let bullying ruin the workplace confidence youâd grown.
Tony rolls his eyes, âYou know why youâre here, donât play coy kid.â. Without hesitation You immediately start defending yourself, âI want to be the first one to apologize for the gym floor. I cannot excuse Bruceâs actions, they were not justified in any manor. Destruction of property over measly feelings, if not already, should be a fireable offense. I however have done nothing wrong. I played a part in telling Bruce about the situation, but I never could have foresaw this outcome.â Your chest is heaving when you finish. Youâve kept a neutral look on your face the entire time, meanwhile Tonyâs face morphed into confusion, suprise, confusion again and then agreeance.
âWow, the things I miss not living here.â He laughs, like it was some kind of joke. âI have no clue what youâre talking about, but Iâd love for you to tell me the full story later.â You straighten your shoulders, what had you just done? Not only did you snitch on Bruce and yourself, but your pathetic plea was witnessed by three devils. Why are you here then?
You hadnât done anything else wrong, you havenât even been on a mission in forever. âOh, my apologies then, I donât know why Iâm here.â You admit. Now you were unbearably nervous, you didnât know what to expect. Tony opened a tab on his touch pad inlaid desk, pulling up the picture of an obviously foreign man. His menacing scowl only meant one thing, Hydra.
âBruno MĂźller, age 37, served as a hitman for Hydra, much like yours truly.â He waves over to Bucky, giving him stank face. You nod your head, trying to take mental notes. âHe was seen last night, on a yacht off the Florida Keys. Intel is saying, heâs hosting a party this weekend, and I want you to be in attendance.â Your head is spinning, you struggle to find the right words.
âWhat- I mean why me? You have many more capable agents at your disposal.â Youâve lost that workplace professionalism in place of confidence. You know you shouldnât speak to your boss this way, but who does he think you are, Captain America?
âI would agree to disagree on that. Do not sell yourself short, your capabilities are more than qualified for this mission. But the truth is, no one knows you. Youâre faceless.â You try to not let his last words hurt, but you suppose heâs right. It would be a simple plan, get in and get out, right? âWhat am I doing?â You ask, trying to fit the other three people into the plan somehow. âI need you to first, immerse yourself into this party, let everyone know youâre there. Talk with the women, flirt with the men, drink but donât get drunk. If someone on this boat has a suspicion of you, it will take a minute for renforcements to arrive. Meaning, fighting off 30+ angry Hydra all by yourself.â He was blatant.
Your anxiety was starting to pick up. Youâre not sure you can do it. The two super soldiers behind you instantly notice the shift in your mood. They see the hair on the back of your neck stand, and they can smell the sheen of sweat covering your body. Steve genuinely feels pity for you.
Tony continues, âInfiltrate his office, access his computer and download all of his files onto this bad boy right here.â He pulls a bracelet out of thin air. He gently unclasps it, revealing a usb drive hidden inside. âThe second you plug it in, a virus will download onto his computer, corrupting the files, for any further use, and it will immediately download them, bypassing any need for passwords.â
Once he finished you had nothing to say. Well, you had plenty to say, but you couldnât be sure that you wouldnât embarrass yourself further. âSo, why are they here?â You finally ask, daring to make eye contact with Steve. His eyes werenât as harsh as you expected.
âEvery secret agent needs an intel team, and a guy in their ear, these two are your intel team, and Barnes is your new conscious.â Great. Now instead of playing along with him, youâre forced to be in their presence. You let the heroes behind you groan in place. They mustâve already debriefed, they had no witty remarks or protests.
âWhen do I leave?â You ask, just wanting to get out of the room at this point. You need to let yourself process everything, before you overload and overstimulate. âTonight.â You give him a curt nod and leave before your team could ask you any questions. There would be plenty of time for that on the flight there.
Your brain is racing. Maybe itâs the combination of everything happening so far today and itâs only 9am. Or itâs the straps on the sports bra absolutely obliterating your shoulders. Youâre pacing down to the simulation room, the only place you can go to escape.
Youâre manically talking to yourself when you swing the door open. âHow the actual fuck does he expect me to do this alone?â You ask no one. Seeing the empty desk chair Bruce left in its exact spot was enough to send you crumbling to your feet. Pressing your back against the door, squeezing your knees as close to your chest as possible. Bruce isnât even here to console you because you fucked that up too. You bang the back of your head on the door, âWhat the fuck is wrong with me?â.
You doubt youâd see Bruce before you left, which meant you wouldnât see him till you returned, which is never promised, better yet scheduled. You needed answers, why did be react like that? Wrapping your head around it was impossible, unbeknownst to you, Bruce sat pressed against his front door, his head in his hands, wondering why he canât control his anger. Wondering if heâd scared you away forever, youâd never seen him as hulk before, just Bruce. He knew you liked just Bruce, but now thereâs no telling.
#avengers fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#avengers#bucky barnes#mcu#fanfic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x plus size reader#bucky x plus size reader#bruce banner x reader#bruce banner#bruce banner x you#just another notch#plus size reader
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Hello everyone đ
As many of you are aware today should have been Technoblades 25th Birthday. His dad asked us for our way of remembering him on this day.
I discovered Technoâs channel back in 2019, and for the experiences I got to have as apart of the community I can never be more thankful for. Techno was and always will be an inspiration.
Iâve talked about this is certain places before, but I was diagnosed with a form of Lung Cancer a few weeks before Techno released his first video about his diagnosis. I was worried, but I was also comforted because while I was undergoing Chemo, surgeries, and drug trials; the person I looked up to the most was undergoing the same thing.
Realistically, I thought Techno would outlive me.
When the news broke, I was devastated, and I largely gave up on trying to get better. I cannot put into words just how badly it affected me, and then a few short weeks later I lost another friend to leukemia.
But, I survived this time too. I realized that when I died, all the memories I got to make as a part of this amazing fan base would disappear- and I didnât want that.
However, I knew it wouldnât last forever. For those of you who have seen my tumblr, my health has been steadily declining the past few months.
I donât want it to come to a surprise when I donât live through this summer.
Iâm not upset by this, in fact, Iâm amazed Iâve gotten nearly four years after being diagnosed. Iâm grateful to everyone for being apart of my memories.
Iâm grateful for this community- for remembering Techno.
Iâm grateful to Technodad for making sure his sonâs memory is used for good, despite the grief it brings him.
Iâve recommended to my mom and dad his videos and posts about how heâs been getting through his grief, and I hope that when the time comes it can help them as much as itâs helped me.
Iâm not saddened to go. Iâve had a good run.
Happy Birthday Alex.
For my Tumblr peeps, donât worry about the story. Iâve written how each chapter shall go, and while I most likely wonât be the one writing it after this coming chapter it will be in the hands of someone I trust. While the words wonât be mine, I know theyâll follow the way I wanted the story to go.
Iâm not sure if it will be me updating again, and when it might be if so.
Thank you guys so much for all your support with this fic. I cannot express how much it means to me that there are people out there who have enjoyed it.
Take care đ
#technoblade#technoblade25#sick#hermitcraft#happy birthday#cancer#desert duo vigilante au#hermitblr#desert duo#superhero au#grian#cute guy grian#ao3 fanfic#archive of our own#ao3 writer
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Iâm so glad you liked the soulmate idea! maybe prompt 16? maybe she gets injured and has to tear off some of her outfit when she gets a little self conscious cause of the cameras and realizing the man everyone wants is now publicly her soulmate? could you imagine that for yourself omfg </3 read that prompt and saw his smirk vividly in my head and I couldnât get it out lol :) katniss would be slapping him every two seconds and trying to keep him on track lollllll :D
âđŠ[be jealous]đŞâ
đŠ[main masterlist]đŞ đŠ[request/ask me something!]đŞ đŠ[updated bingo card!]đŞ đŠ[bingo masterlist]đŞ đŠ[join the bingo taglist!]đŞ
đŠâĄđŞ CHARACTER - Soulmate! Finnick Odair x Soulmate! Fem! Reader
đŠâĄđŞ TYPE - smut, fluff, maybe slight angst?
đŠâĄđŞ WORD COUNT - 2.8K
đŠâĄđŞ SUMMARY - If there was one thing that the Capitol wasnât, it was kind. So when they input the law where soulmates cannot be put into the same game, you and Finnick have to come clean about your relationship in the Quarter Quell - even if itâs too late.
đŠâĄđŞ STORY WARNINGS - sorry anon, I had to change it up just a bit! || age difference (3 years) || soulmate AU with the same mark || reader is more naive & weak (physically) || Finnick was your mentor || you donât think you deserve Finnick for a while, he fixes that || insecure reader || virgin reader || you wanted to keep your soulmate-ship a secret (fails miserably) || oral || 69 || slight penetration || cum eating || fingering || hickeys || creampies || cumslut & pussy drunk terms used
When you were chosen for the games, you thought your fate was sealed. You were going to be brutally murdered, and you would never see the light of day ever again until Finnick became your mentor.
âLookâŚâ he said, inhaling as you both stood in front of the tube that would take you up to the arena. âI know, I know youâre not that strong,â he whispers, thumb slowly stroking your cheek. âBut you fucking run, okay? You run, you hide, you just⌠you need to come out of there alive, okay?â
You shook your head. âI donât think I can, Fin, I just-â
âY/N,â he says firmly, holding your shoulders. âPlease. Please come out. For me.â
You inhale deeply as the Peacekeeper yells out âfive more minutesâ, Finnick leaning down to press a kiss to your head. âPromise me youâll try.â
Finnick was one of the most perfect people you couldâve ever asked for, so as soon as you saw that mark on his lower abdomen right on his hip bone that matched yours, you promised yourself youâd never let him see it. Not when you were going to die in the arena and he would lose his soulmate, someone he didnât deserve.
Finnick deserved the world, and in your mind, that wasnât you.
He was always telling you about people who had pretended to be his soulmate, getting tattoos of his mark just to try and get with him, though they always missed the small dot on the lower left side, the same one you had. He then always added that he never wanted to meet his soulmate, saying things like he didnât want to burden them with what heâs been through or he didnât think itâd work out.
You knew he would never burden his soulmate, especially you, but you didnât want to start anything when you would most likely die.
He always said how he had this connection to you that he couldnât explain, his eyes always filled with so much love it made you want to cry. It wouldâve been a horrible decision to tell him really, but everything he did made you want to say it.
âOne minute!â
âFinnick, I just-â
âI'm going to watch every second, darling,â he whispered, inhaling deeply. âAnd Iâm going to be with you every moment.â
You nodded, hands shakily squeezing his wrists that cupped your face before starting to step back. You go around him to step onto the platform, slowly stepping inside as Finnick quickly runs onto the platform, pressing his hand to the glass. He inhaled, nodding. âY-Y/N, I love-â
With that, almost like it was a farewell, your capsule shot up. You emerged in a large field, wheat around you with the center being the classic cornucopia. The numbers started blaring, signaling the beginning of your inevitable demise.
Even then though, you promised Finnick you would try, so you had to. You would run and hide and swim and do everything you could to survive like you promised him, even though you didnât expect it to gain your victory.
After winning, you couldnât have taken more showers. Though not physically covered in blood, you felt disgusting, as though all of those deaths were on your hands. You finally stopped when you felt your nails burning, skin almost raw from how much you rubbed it in an attempt to get off the invisible blood, quickly turning around to turn off the water and step out.
You pat your skin down, too scared to irritate it more before putting on some tiny shorts. You really needed to feel the cold instead of warmth like you did all throughout the games and a thin camisole that didnât hide your soulmate mark. You looked at it in the mirror, the reddish-brown hue making you hum - it was nice to just look at it for a minute instead of hiding it.
It doesnât take you long to step out, stretching before you notice Finnick sitting on your bed looking starstrucked. âFinnick!â
âY/N, what the hell is that?â
At first you didnât know what he was talking about, looking down at the wide gash you had on your forearm. âOh, the District 1 Career was trying to get a hit in before-â
He stood up abruptly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest, his hand quickly finding its place at your hip. âIs that real?â
You look down, quickly covering the mark. âY-You⌠you werenât supposed to see that.â
You sounded stupid, head hazy as he pressed his finger firmly against it and rubs, gasping when it doesnât fade or get irritated at his touch. âDid you- why would you keep this from me?â
âBecause I thought I was going to die, Finnick,â you inhaled deeply. âI never thought I would see you again. I didnât want to give you hope-â
âSo instead you chose to lie to me and keep the fact that youâre my soulmate and that we couldâve been building a life together? A soulmate bond? How long have you known?â He whispered, leaning down as you looked away.
âSince we started training together.â
He inhaled sharply, letting out a soft whimper as he looked away. âWhy didnât you tell me?â
âBecause I thought I was going to die,â you explained, holding back tears. âI thought I was going to die and that you were going to be left with hope and I just-â a strangled sob left your mouth as he pulled you into a hug, his lips pressing to your forehead.
âYou donât worry about anything, darling. I promise, I swear,â he pulled away to press a soft kiss to your lips. âI will never let anything happen to you ever again.â
It had been quiet until you both were pulled into the Third Quarter Quell. You volunteered for Mags much to Finnickâs dismay, especially when you both had gotten to the parade.
âItâs too on show, Finnick,â you whisper, trying to lift up your skirt before he swats at your hand. âFinnick!â
âWho cares anymore, darling?â He whispers, pulling you closer. âWhy should we hide it, hm? Let everyone know that they should be jealous. I have the most beautiful woman in the world by my side.â
You blushed madly as he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. âIf they find out, they wonât pull me from the games because they renounced the law,â you whisper, inhaling shakily. âWeâre going to get out of there, right? Together?â
He nodded, pushing back your hair. âI swear to you, Y/N, I promise.â He inhaled deeply as the fanfare started, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. âIâll be right by your side, my love.â
You looked up, nodding as he pushed back your hair, a loud noise making you both look to the side. There Katniss stood, awkward and stick-like as you try to pull away from Finnick on instinct but he just held you tighter. He pulled you away, quickly helping you into the carriage before getting on himself.
âTheyâre going to have a field day with this,â you say, pulling your skirt a bit lower to expose the mark on your hip. âMight as well give them a show, right?â
He smiled, pulling down his waistband to show off the same mark. âMight as well, darling.â
The news came out sooner than you expected, Finnick pulling you closer to his chest as you sat on his cock. It was peaceful, watching the news a few hours before being dragged into the games. The public was raving about the fact you both were soulmates, and Finnickâs cock that was balls deep inside of you still spurting cum into you as he slowly rolled his hips.
âWant to go again,â he mumbled, his words not a question but a statement. You giggled as he stared at you, eyes hazy and drunk on your cunt. âPlease? Can we go again?â
You giggle, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. âYou just want to fuck because weâre not going to be able to in the games, donât you?â
He hummed. âWho says we canât fuck in the games?â
You paused, letting out a soft hum as you started to roll your hips into his. âYouâll just fuck me anywhere, wonât you? Too fucking pussy drunk to think about anything else?â
It was a dangerous game, playing with a more dominant Finnick like this, especially because you were definitely the more submissive person in this relationship. Finnick always felt so fucking good when you acted like this, a sub trying to get more dominant on their dom and tease him, especially when you were on top.
He was going to feed your mind just a bit before he fucked you so hard you wouldnât remember your name.
After processing your words, he nods as he kisses against your shoulder down to the swell of your tits, kissing and licking at your nipple. âYes, yes darling. I want to fuck you so bad, please, please. I need to feel that pussy clench around me, need to feel your cunt milk my cock baby.â
He watched your eyes roll back, a smirk finding its way to his lips as he teased your nipple with his teeth. He sucks, groaning as you tug on his hair, pulling him closer as his hands hold your waist, forcing you to roll your hips into his and taking pleasure in the whines falling from your lips. âF-Fin, need you to fuck me.â
He pulled away, staring at your hard nipples and swollen areola. He laughs, looking up at you between your tits, eyes glossed over with lust as he pressed his lips to the center of your chest and sucked against your skin. You whined loudly as he leaves bright hickeys ranging from bright pink to dark purple all along your skin; anywhere from your collarbone to your chest to your sides, lifting you off of him to watch your face scrunch in discomfort when his length is pulled out of you.
âNo, Finnick, donât do that!â
It made him laugh; as pussy drunk as he was, you were cock obsessed more than youâd ever admit.
âWhat? Why not? I need to make room for more of the cum that Iâm going to fill you up with.â
He laid you on your bed, pushing his head between your thighs to kiss against your stretched cunt, already pushing his tongue into your pussy to taste the mixed cum flooding into his mouth. He groaned loudly, his hips bucking into the mattress that did little to nothing to relieve him of the need to be inside of you.
He pulled away, face covered in sheen from your lewd juices, the whine that left your lips making him laugh just a bit. He laid back on the bed, humming. âCome here, darling. Want your pussy on my face.â
You nodded, knowing better than to argue with him when he got like this, quickly moving to hover over his mouth. âF-Fin, are you sure, I donât know if I can-â
âDarling, if you donât shut up and sit on my face, I wonât fuck you again tonight.â His hand slapping against your ass proved his point even more, a yelp leaving your mouth as you let your body relax and his mouth suck on your leaking cunt. Your eyes rolled back as he groaned, one hand holding the hip with your soulmate mark, his hand tight as the other pushed up your back while pushing you down. The new angle makes you whine loudly, gasping as his cock slaps against your cheek, his leaking tip smearing cum against your skin.
His cock was so pretty in front of you, thick and long, his tip flushed a bright red as cum leaking out, harder than you had ever seen as his hands squeeze at the plushness of your ass. His moans against your cunt made you whine, pulling his cock into your mouth just like he wanted you to.
Your eyes rolled back as he groaned loudly, fingers slipping into your pussy to scrape his cum from your walls, pulling out everything he could to swallow into his mouth. You whine loudly when his fingers get a little rough, pain blooming making his fingers pull away and a quick apology comes from his mouth. He smiled as he softly rubbed against that one area, kissing softly making you whine as you bobbed your head on his cock.
âBetter?â
You nodded around his length, jaw slack as you bobbed your head over his cock, groaning as you pulled away. His cock bounced, mixed saliva and cum dripping down his shaft as you whined loudly. âY-Yes, Fin, just like that!â
He smirks, pushing a finger back into you as he continues to rub that one spot you loved, curling and thrusting his finger inside of you as you pull his cock back into your mouth. You groaned loudly around his length, bobbing your head as fast as you could before pushing your head down and pulling his entire length down your throat.
Your eyes watered as you gagged, rolling back into your head as his hips thrust up into you, one of his hands forcing your head to stay low. You could only groan around his length as he used your mouth like a cock sleeve, thrusting harder and harder into you as his fingers of his other hand curled inside of you, thumb rubbing against your clit.
You pulled your hair out of your face, holding his thighs for some sort of grounding agent as he rammed his cock into your throat, your nose settled against his balls. He was groaning into your cunt, his tongue flicking and pushing into you as wet squelching fills the room, your throat relaxing as he does one last throat to cum down your throat.
He groaned loudly into your cunt, pushing his fingers into you just to hit that one spot that made you come undone around his digits. You gasped as you pulled away, letting out soft coughs as you swallowed, licking around his length before he pulled you off his face.
It makes you yelp as he quickly laid on your body, giggling as you hugged him tightly and pressed kisses to his hair. He mumbled out a soft âI love youâ as he pulled away, quickly gaining the same response from you before cleaning you up and pulling you into his chest. âIâm going to get you out of there alive, Y/N.â
You inhale deeply, pressing your face into his neck. âI know you will, Fin.â
It wasnât until later in the games, where you stood by the tree did you actually doubt his words. A District 10 tribute had come way too close to you, slashing your side with her blade making you strip off half of your suit that Finnick couldnât keep his eyes off of.
âWhat? Donât stop on my account, Iâm enjoying the show.â He was definitely enjoying the show, your soulmate mark on display and half of your skin that was covered in hickeys being shown off as well.
You rolled your eyes playfully, Katniss shoving him every few minutes to get him to focus on what they were doing as you attempted to find something to cover yourself. âY/N, darling, what are you doing?â
âTrying to find something to cover myself up,â you explain quickly, sighing. âI just⌠feel exposed.â
He comes over, wrapping his arms around you to press a soft kiss to your lips. âIâm right here, darling. Always. You donât have to feel exposed, ever.â
You smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. âI know, Fin. Thank you.â
He would stick by your side until Katniss blows out the top of the arena, cradling you under his body and whispering soft reassurances when youâre both lifted up into District 13s aircraft, and mending your side with the medical supplies.
âI promised I would get you out,â he whispers, smiling. âAnd I promise Iâll keep you safe, forever.â
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meta talk. i don't quite know how to word this properly, but adding french creators to the qsmp is the riskiest thing quackity studios could've done and it doesn't surprise me that the success to which it was executed was minimal.
adding portuguese speaking creators exclusively from brazil as the first batch outside of the initial english and spanish speakers was the perfect "soft expansion" for the server when you consider the reason for the project's conception - because quackity had experienced poor treatment from white americans as a bilingual latino creator and sought to unite his two communities in an empowering way, further expanding this very noble and personal idea to encapsulate all communities and all languages spanning across the entire world. inviting more latino creators who have likely had the same experiences and would be able to appreciate what the project is trying to achieve is a no-brainer.
it's an uncomfortable thing to touch on (which is why i've never, ever, seen it spoken about on this website), but minecraft projects and communities have always had massive problems with all forms of bigotry, but especially racism. white americans and white europeans have probably not felt the euphoria of seeing their culture celebrated in mainstream global entertainment projects as they already absolutely dominate the entertainment industry on a global scale. as someone who is visibly brown and living in europe, i've always got a lot of grief from classmates and co-workers in the form of ignorant jokes and flat out exclusion - it's an unfortunate cultural norm that bleeds into streaming due to the medium's casual and open nature, unnoticed or unchallenged by white viewers who don't want to have to confront a content creator's bigotry in fears of having to stop watching them. something that cannot be ignored by the people it's actually affecting. there is a reason dsmp and hermitcraft cosplay meet ups are dominated by pale skin.
i love the qsmp because its inclusion of latin american creators and quackity's selectiveness based on personal experience have largely (and i do mean largely, not entirely, but that's a discussion for another day) eliminated that problem.
the most prominent and succinct example i can think of is the photo of quackity's bedroom that was mocked countless times by his english speaking community and his bigoted english speaking friends when he streamed on the dsmp - when that photo was brought to the qsmp, forever, a fellow latino creator, was the first person to gently offer solidarity because he had come from the same impoverished latin american background. to me, and to a lot of minorities, that is what the qsmp is about. yeah, sharing languages in a minecraft server is novel, it's a fun way for americans who did poorly in high school to get back into learning spanish, but it stands for so much more when you're a racial minority. when your pleading in the dsmp fandom was drowned out and ignored for the entire duration of its run. when you're completely unrepresented in minecraft tournaments, and when known bigots are encouraged to participate in said tournaments to boost viewership because numbers are paramount. when you are finally seeing your culture appreciated rather than mocked on streams with tens of thousands of viewers all over the world as part of a massive project with a brilliant, engaging story.
it was obviously necessary to branch out of the americas at some point with what the project is attempting to achieve, but such a task is daunting when the next group you're inviting and their community probably do not have the capacity through personal experience to appreciate what the project stands for at its core in the same way the first batches do. can non americans all relate in discussions of the internet and entertainment industry being america and by extension english speaking centric? yeah, of course. but can white europeans relate when the only representation you have in said media revolves around harmful bigoted stereotypes? can there be a quiet solidarity between a white frenchman and a brown brazilian based on experiences with government, racial profiling, and online mockery? no. and in the landscape of livestreaming stupid jokes for entertainment alongside fast paced gameplay, these nuances are probably not going to be acknowledged.
in complete contrast to the solidarity exhibited between quackity and forever when discussing their poverty growing up in latin america, i have not forgotten and never will forget aypierre excusing his constant racist jokes aimed at the brazilians on his uniquely "french dark humour" that the brazilians, hurt by his comments, could "not understand." this is not an excusable cultural difference, but a symptom of white european privilege, and total ignorance towards what the project is meant to stand for. a smooth integration of all the world's cultures necessitates white european and white american introspection in a way that i haven't seen a lot of streamers capable of. admitting fault to such a degree and the ego of a large online personality do not often mesh well.
i'm always very irritated when people (especially english speakers) complain about them not "adding the germans" sooner despite us seeing applications for german speaking admins many months ago - because it would not be a task of simply throwing out server invites to content creators and cobbling together an animation of a submarine crashing into the island. you cannot downplay the ambition of this project and the mammoth task its trying to accomplish. people take for granted and forget that this is an unprecedented melding of cultures that would never otherwise interact and clash on the rare occasions they do. the french qsmp community being small and the french creators largely being outliers when it comes to the qsmp is not something born out of malice or purposeful exclusion, but simply a symptom of an unspoken lack of solidarity and inability to meaningfully relate based on everything from wildly varying privilege to global placement.
and don't get me wrong - i'm not excusing things like the times at which events are broadcast (i literally live in europe and have to stay up until sunrise to see most events, i think the admins do have to bite the bullet and begin structuring events around a new timezone that isn't the globally inconvenient unsustainable PST), or the exclusion of clips from french content creators at the presidential dinner, but i think attributing those admin choices to the brazilian community being unfairly favoured is downplaying what the qsmp as a project means for minorities, especially when the brazilian community receive the most scorn for infamously being the first to call out bigoted behaviour from qsmp content creators. yeah, it sucks that the french haven't slotted into the qsmp as well as the brazilians and aren't anywhere as numerous, but with all these unspoken contributing factors being taken into account, i can't be surprised.
i wish quackity and his team the best in smoothly integrating more languages and cultures in this amazing project in the future, but for the love of god please understand that the implications of this project and its impact are far larger than any streamer "drama" you might've witnessed in the past. and stop underplaying what this project is trying to achieve in an online landscape saturated in bigotry.
#sorry if this is worded weirdly im still recovering from a brain injury. ill fix typos as and when i notice them reading back on this#also dont tag this as discourse because its like.....not. and thats so unhelpful in recognising what im trying to get across#edit: ive seen a few people bringing it up now YES dont worry i am aware that etoiles isnt white thats why i made sure to specify white#when talking about where the issues were coming from#mine#qsmp
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spending rainy nights with you.
featuring: vlad dracula tepes x gn!reader.
summary: you're reading late at night, and your husband grows impatient waiting for you.
warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni regardless of content.
tags: fluff | one-shot | vampire! reader | established marriage | clingy! vlad | you fight like an old married couple (you are an old married couple)
a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! finally a new fanfic after 4 months. i'm really proud of this one so i hope you all like it! thank you to everyone who gave me advice, i really needed it. i appreciate you all so much! p.s i made the dividers featured, so please do not use them.
date started: 5:02PM, december 31st, 2024. date finished: 5:56PM, january 8th, 2025.
ib: @creativepromptsforwriting ⥠| wc: 2.9k | ao3
Darkness cradles the Earth in a loving embrace while the clouds cry. The moon cannot give its glow for beings below, and the stars are unable to watch the wonders of the night unfold for long without the clouds covering their view. It has been this way all evening, rain pouring down anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour, stopping for around the same amount of time before starting again. The plants and animals of the forest are grateful for the sky's nourishment, and the clouds feel so encouraged by nature's gratitude that there are no signs of this pattern letting up anytime soon.
You appreciate the weather, too, for it is perfect for reading. At the moment, you find yourself sat in one of many libraries in the castle. The rocking chair that you find yourself in is rather comfortable, and the book in your hands pulls you further into its story with every word you follow. In your most comfortable nightwear with a blanket on your lap and a cardigan around your shoulders, not many other things come to mind when you try to think of a better way to spend your evening.
"I'll be to bed soon, dear. I'm almost finished with this chapter." Your voice breaks the comfortable silence and echoes across the wooden shelves enveloping you in your little corner to reach the ears of the rather large man that is making a very poor attempt to hide.
Standing not far from you, partially behind a bookcase, is your husband, Vlad ČepeČ. You've felt his presence for the past few minutes, deciding that you would wait for him to speak first, but as quiet lingered in the air, you quickly realized that he wasn't going to announce himself. Your history with Vlad goes far beyond your marriage, for the two of you were some of the first vampires to ever walk the Earth. You were good friends for a very long time, and to save the novel-worthy story, you found each other after many years of being separated and romance fiercely set ablaze. No divine being could send you someone that's close in comparison to him, and he could say the same about you.
There are a few more moments of silence before you feel wind hastily rushing against the back of your neck, followed by large, strong arms tightly wrapping around your shoulders and cold skin resting right where the air had just wafted past you. Many would find it hard to believe that Count Dracula is a clingy lover, but this behavior is of no surprise to you. For as long as the two of you have been together, Vlad has always craved closeness. When he is without you for a certain period of time, he searches the castle to take his rightful place by your side once more. He didn't have to look for long tonight, for he knew exactly where you were.
You have been obsessed with this book that you found in the library, and while he is glad that you are enjoying it, it is taking your attention away from him. This is not something that pleases Vlad very deeply, so he is planning on making some changes tonight. "You've been in here for hours. Come to bed, now." His deep voice comes with a rumble from his chest, tone composed of a gentleness reserved for you alone.
His plea does not go unheard, for you know that all he wants is for you to snuggle up with him and doze into night's comfortable slumber together. Fondness takes hold of your heart as a small, tender smile curls onto your lips. It's difficult to refuse him such an innocent ask, but it is just as difficult to pull yourself away from the narrative in your hands, so you assure your beloved, "There isn't much left. You'll be alright a few minutes more."
This earns a disappointed groan from Vlad, burying his face further into your neck. "How much more is there?"
You tilt your head and take each remaining page between your fingers until you find the next chapter, and when you find your answer, you tell him, "Three pages."
Another groan grates from Vlad's throat, prolonged from the previous one as he nestles impossibly further into your skin with his large frame leaning against the back of the wooden chair. "Remind me why we sleep at night." Your darling requests, peaking up at your face.
"Hey, you don't have to sleep at night if you don't want to. It was your idea to change your sleep schedule so that we could match," You grant Vlad his request and recall the commitment that he made to sleeping throughout the night so that the two of you would be able to be together when the sun comes up.
You have preferred day to night for as long as you could remember. You have no reason for favoring daytime other than feeling that the Earth is so much more lively and bright. The plants are so vibrant beneath the sunlight, and there are so many things that you want to experience that you wouldn't be able to otherwise. Vlad always knew that you enjoyed day more than night, therefore adjusting your sleeping schedule accordingly; As a result, Vlad told you that he was going to start sleeping through the night too. At first, you were a bit worried about such a major change to his routine, but he insisted that he wanted to see the world through your eyes. This has been the arrangement ever since, and you cannot help but feel so smitten by the idea that he is willing to introduce such adjustments to his agenda in order to be with you.
With this transition in his life, Vlad knew that he was going to be groggy. While he has a substantial amount of energy compared to most vampires, this does not exempt him from needing the same amount of sleep. Have no doubt when he swears that there is nothing that he would change about dedicating himself to your lifestyle. You were right when you said that it was his choice, but unfortunately, it does not cure the fatigue that he often finds himself with when he stirs from his night's rest.
In attempt to adjust to the pattern he promised you, he likes going to bed early. Vlad tries to be tucked in anywhere from seven to nine P.M, and typically, you are by his side. You go to bed around the same time that he does, if not a little later, so when he was preparing himself for bed without you, he got worried. He figured that you would come to bed soon, so he laid down in attempt to fall asleep. As the hours ticked by with still no sign of you, he became restless, eventually making the decision to go look for you.
A defeated huff leaves Vlad's lips as he rests his forehead against the back of your neck again. One of many reasons why he fell in love with you was because of your smart mouth, and you pick the most bedeviling times to use it. "I know that," He mumbles lowly, peaking back up at you before resting his chin on your shoulder and closing his eyes.
"You know that I can't sleep without you. Please, come to bed." The count pleads again, sweeter this time.
You almost give in to his honeyed words, their innocent warmth daring to bewitch you. Nevertheless, you keep your composure while your eyes remain on the page before you, as they have throughout the entire conversation, "You will be just fine, dear. Only a few minutes longer."
Vlad has learned much about patience in his life, especially when he found you again. All good things come to those who wait is something that the dark-haired vampire has commonly watched play out, so normally, this wouldn't be the end of the world for him. He would do naught more than pout and refuse to detach himself from you until you came to bed. Tonight, however, Vlad will not be indulging in your distractions. Quick to stand, sending a blast of wind against your back once more, the count steps to your side before lifting you up into his arms. You yelp at the unexpected change of location and almost drop your book in the process, barely being able to catch it by its spine before holding it closed to your chest and leaning against your husband. "Vlad!!" You exclaim, laughter tickling its way from your lungs moments after.
"No. I have had enough. You are coming to bed with me." The vampire declares as he begins to make his way towards the library's exit.
"Vlad, put me down!!" You demand, only moderately annoyed with him as you flail in his grasp in attempt to escape, "Right now!!"
"Nope. So sorry, my dear, but your book is going to have to wait." Vlad proclaims, lips tilting upwards in a cheeky grin as his head turns to the side so that radiant red eyes can meet yours, "Your husband requires your attendance to the nightly snuggle session. You're late."
Any attempts you're making to escape the security of this man's arms are greatly failing you, so you decide to admit defeat now rather than later. His strength serves well, and while you are grateful for it most days, this is a good example of the cons of being married to one of Earth's most powerful vampires. He can, and will, wrangle you around whenever he pleases. Your bottom lip pokes out from its place as you lean against the man's chest, determined to uphold your front of unwavering stubbornness.
Amused by your dramatics, Vlad rolls his eyes playfully and allows them to close while a chuckle vibrates up his chest and past his lips. He opens them again to admire your sullen expression, musing, "Oh, come now. I can't be that bad of a cuddler since you're pitching a fit."
Your pout is quick to dispel from your face, a long sigh expelling from your lungs just afterwards. You avoid eye contact as you agree with him, "No, you're not."
Another chuckle escapes the mouth of your lover, a sound that you are secretly glad to hear that reassures you that he isn't taking you seriously. He draws you closer to his chest as he softly murmurs against your forehead before placing a kiss to it, "Don't worry, you can read more tomorrow."
You sulk and avoid eye contact for a bit before dropping the act. It wasn't much longer before you arrived into your shared bedroom, the door coming open to reveal a sight that has grown comforting to you over the years. The room is decorated primarily in red and black, as you both adore the colors, but there are a few distinct shades around too which sets apart your individual styles. Assorted trinkets rest across dressers and shelves from the many travels that you two have taken over the years, gifts and ornaments that you've made for each other through a plethora of shared anniversaries that always bring a smile to your face every time you pay mind to them.
Variously styled mirrors, decor, and paintings hang on the walls. There is no real purpose for the mirrors other than to enhance the elegance of the room, as they are too high for both you and Vlad to see anything from. The paintings, however, hold much importance to both of you. Each illustration that lays across your walls tells a story from one of your memorable moments together. Vlad personally hired the best artist he could find to perfectly capture your most treasured experiences, and whenever you are having a bad day, all you have to do is look up to brighten your spirits.
Your husband walks over to his side of the bed and holds you above the center before dropping you onto the soft surface, causing you to puff out an exhale before your laughter sings into the air. You lay yourself across the bed and remain still while Vlad adjusts the canopy draped over the wooden post by his pillow before he launches at you. With no time to move away, he plops over your stomach, the impact of his weight causing you to wheeze. You look down at him with an astonished grin on your lips as he lays in momentary silence before lifting himself off of you to settle onto you comfortably. You sit up and adjust all of the pillows behind you before leaning back against them, prying your book open again before it is promptly snatched out of your hands and slammed onto Vlad's nightstand. You laugh and try to reach for it, imploring for its return, but that is quickly shut-down by the vampire hovering above you, "No. Sincerest apologies You'll get it back tomorrow."
Slowly, he stations himself on top of you with his head against your abdomen just under your chest. He is mindful of your body language to ensure your comfort, and when he descends his full weight with no awkward shifting or complaints from you after a few minutes, he concludes your contentment with the position and nestles his head against you with closed eyes. Your arms lift as he gets himself cozy, and once he relaxes, you wrap your arms around his shoulders while your fingers begin to comb through his hair. A smile graces the vampire's lips as your touch serves to soothe all worries away from his mind.
You cannot stop the smile that grows onto your own face as you watch his lips curl up. No soul, alive or dead, can say that they have experienced Vlad ČepeČ' joy the way that you do, and for this, you are grateful. Vlad has spent so much of his life keeping up a cold, merciless profile for all vampires that dare to step to him, but charades with you are unnecessary. All of the walls that he spent centuries building are torn to shreds in your presence, and no matter his methods, they could never withstand your blinding iridescence. There is comfort in your arms that he has never found in another, and this tranquility that he has the luxury of being the only person to experience is something that he holds close to his heart. This is not something that you do knowingly, for it is who you are. You are a constant source of peace that quells the ever-roaring fire in his soul to a quiet crackle. You are what inspires him to be curious about the world, you keep his thirst for knowledge abundant with your differing perspectives, and he firmly believes that your ideas could change the world.
It's truly a shame that your eyes cannot convey the amount of love that you hold for this man, but they are doing their best. Your gaze displays your overwhelming adoration for him, and he surely feels how loved he is. When you look at him, Vlad knows that he is admired in every way he never dreamed of. Your eyes do not have to meet for him to know that you look at him like he is the greatest thing in the world, and that is all you could ever wish for. You finally decide to break the silence after watching him rest for a bit, teasing him, "Is this going to be your spot for the night?"
Any thoughts that Vlad was having before you embraced him have completely vanished. Now, it's just you, him, and your warm bed. All he can muster out is a low, "Mhm."
You giggle as you recognize his sleepiness and lift your legs slightly, asking, "Then can we at least get under the covers so that we don't freeze to death?"
A lazy, amused smirk curls onto Vlad's face at your suggestion, his nostrils flaring in a huff. "I'm not even sure that we can freeze," He admits.
You chuckle and move your hands from his hair onto his back to pat it. "Well, I don't want to risk finding out. So come on."
An agitated groans leaves your comfy husband before he begrudgingly eases himself off of you so that you could get under the covers. The two of you adjust the pillows to their normal spaces and you shake off your cardigan to toss it aside before you slip your legs beneath the sheets. A corner of the sheets lay open, and you lift them up to welcome him inside. Vlad's lips form a gentle smile, and his eyes soften affectionately at the sight before he climbs into the covers and rests himself back on top of you. Your fingers return to threading through his hair, a blissful sigh respiring from his lungs as he resumes a comfortable position. You look down at the top of his head with the same benevolent expression that you wear every time that you look at him, and your voice comes out soft when you say, "Goodnight, my dearest. I love you."
The words that you tell him every night are words that he could never tire of hearing. When you say it, he knows that you mean it, and it fills him with ease to know that when you wake up in the morning, he will get to hear you say it again. "Goodnight, my darling. I love you too." Vlad returns the sentiment, falling into an inescapable slumber with you not far behind him.
@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is appreciated! <3
#vlad dracula#vlad tepes#dracula tepes#count dracula#dracula#vlad dracula tepes#vlad dracula tepes x reader#dracula x reader#dracula x you#dracula castlevania#castlevania dracula#castlevania#castlevania netflix#castlevania x reader#castlevania x you#netflix castlevania#castlevania fanfiction#castlevania fandom#x reader#x you#x y/n#reader insert#gender neutral reader#oneshot#one shot#x reader fanfiction#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader insert#x you fluff
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Years later - TSH
Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader
Word count: 1666
TW: religious imagery
Out of guilt and dread you end up leaving Vermont and building a new life. Just as you thought you escaped your past, you once again find yourself in its grasp.
The past haunts me. It has been yearsâso many I cannot begin to count, and if Iâm being completely honest, I was not counting to begin with. Everything I have done was to escape that wretched part of my life in which my naivety and perhaps self-consuming passion, managed to control me. I wantedâwantâto forget it all.Â
The first time I stepped foot into what would soon come to be one of the few select places in my nightmares was very awe-inducing. The university was large, larger than Iâd imagined. The stone walls had arched indents that made it look as if it belonged in one of the novels I read as a teenager and that my family wholeheartedly despised. The hallways were a contorted maze of watchful ancient statues following every movement with their eyes, priceless antiques donated by rich parents and students with more money in their pockets than I could ever dream of having. A multitude of departments found their home in that twisted place, such as theater, arts, modern literature, architecture, history, music, philosophy, and more. I believe you can imagine my excitement when faced with the exact kind of university I dreamed of studying at, especially when I had little to no hope of ever getting anywhere close to it, much less belonging.
One thing, as you know, led to another, and I ended up as one of the infamous Greek pupils. Iâm quite sure everyone thought we were some kind of cult, which, if you think about it, isnât entirely wrong.
The first few years were everything I had ever hoped for. I felt that I had found my place and, most certainly, my kind. We used to do everything together. Being with them was the only time I truly felt alive. It doesnât matter whether we went to the comforting country house engulfed in trees safely from the outside world, had delicious dinners debating the most obscure topics, or simply studied in the library, sleep-deprived and on immense amounts of caffeine, I always felt as if I was doing something more than just existing.
Where did it all go wrong? I wouldnât be able to tell you. I do not want to categorize Richardâs arrival as the initiator factor, for it was not his fault. Nor is it correct to say that the Bacchanal was the beginning of it all. It wouldnât be Henryâs doing either, at least not the start of it. I have speculated on this over the years, and I have come to only one conclusion that seems right. My theory as to what the answer is and my attempt to pinpoint the exact place on the timeline are not as precise as I hoped they would be. It was not a single event that gave birth to our ruin, but rather multiple little moments, that are rather large in the big scheme. I also like to believe that Julian had as much of a role in all of this as the rest of us. Perhaps, even a considerably more sizeable one.
Everything that happenedâI wish to leave behind. However, I recently came to realise, that, to my misery, it incorporated and formed my very being. My views, my ideas, my tastes, and my activities are all, to a certain extent, if not fully influenced and ruled over by it. I am my past.
My great, futile attempts to escape the life I once had, led me to London, a perfect setting for someone who wished to hide. A bustling place, where I had the chance to not be me, but a mere shadow lurking throughout the crowded streets, observing every passerby, while trying to guess their life stories, deepest desires, and strongest fears. I was no one, and I adored it. However, my presence became known among museum guides and librarians for its consistency. I have also earned a reputation among university students for being one of the few odd professors. This is probably due to the fact that I am very selective with my pupils, and I teach a couple that are quite brilliant in my office. I often have open discussions with them, for I consider it helps them engage with the topic better and understand the meaning and philosophy behind it in such a way that encourages them to analyze, observe, and critique. One such day, we were talking about the loss of self, Platoâs four divine madnesses:
âDeath is the mother of beauty,â said Felix, one of my students.
I nodded in approval as I propped myself up on the desk.
âAnd what is beauty?âÂ
âTerror,â a voice answered from my officeâs door.
My life up until this moment, along with all my darkest memories and the series of events that led me to where I am today, flash before my eyes, and it feels as if the universe has stopped specifically to play along with his sadistic trick. My jaw clenches involuntarily, my eyes threaten to betray my emotions, and I have to remind myself Iâm not the same brainless kid chasing empty promises and impossible dreams, fully convinced that every existing land, no matter how vast it may be, is my playground and that fate will bend according to my petulant will. I have to get out of my head, the silence is stretching. My students, probably confused, are expecting some kind of sign from my disordered self. He is waiting for a reaction. The past has finally caught up to me. After all my futile attempts, it still managed to intrude on my presentâs doorway.Â
I take a deep breath. I look at my students, curiosity mixed with confusion clear in their expressions. I donât need to look at him to know who he is.
âI apologize,â I start hoping that they cannot hear the tremble in my voice as accentuated as I seem to do, âclass is dismissed.â
I need not say more before my students start gathering their belongings in complete silence so as to not further disturb the room completely filled with palpable animosity and perhaps something more vivid, cursed to lurk in the depths of our minds. I reach blindly toward my pack of cigarettes, lying somewhere on my desk between books and coffee-stained papers. Lucky Strikes, yet another sign of his hold on me. I light my cigarette, breathing in the curls of smoke spiraling down my throat. The sound of his leather shoes clicking against the wooden floorboards reverberates through my beating heart. I am well aware that even now, after years of attempting to escape from the rosary He entangled around my neck, I am still His most loyal devotee, respecting vigilantly every silent command. Deep and numbing smoke inside my lungs, like a relaxant, washes me with warm Indian summer waves of calmness.
He is fixating me with his cold blue eyes, watching for any sign of defiance. Over the years Iâve spent in his presence, Iâve learned to recognize his transitive facial expressions, his secretive ways, and his small habits, whether it is the way he holds a page between his fingers before turning it or his tendency to dive into long monologues about whatever interests him at that moment. It is a distinct ability that has grown its roots along my blood vessels, twisted and intertwined beyond differentiation. Understanding each other used to be our way of showing our affection. It is something so sacred that I cannot bring myself to weaponize against him and betray the bond we once had. Youâd think that after so much time Iâd be able to break free from the shackles His divinity holds me in and convert to a different faith. But He is nestled so deeply in me, that I cannot help but like the burns and the imprints upon my skin.
Henry Marchbanks Winter looks the same. But he now has a new pair of glasses and slight crowâs feet, along with faint smile lines framing his lips. Heâs wearing one of his dark English suits, which have always fit him incredibly well. And if the wrinkles werenât enough, the few grey hairs peeking from underneath the familiar dark colour of his hair are a brutal reminder of how much of him I missed. A cruel admonitum of the years that have passed and of all the times I wasnât next to him, not by chance but by choice. It takes all I have in me to not fall to my knees, confess my sin, and beg for forgiveness. As if all the years Iâve been away from him turned into mere days I find myself falling back to my old habits and once again bowing down to his silent command.
Amor dominus terribilis est.
The cigarette burns, forgotten between my fingers, as I get wasted on his scent, for once, unbothered by the consequences.
âIâve finally found you, dilectus.â Beloved.
âI suppose you have.â I cannot help but stare at him, hypnotized by the storm in his eyes.
âI have been searching for you since the day you left.â He reaches a gentle, steady hand to brush my cheek âLondon of all places-â
As much as I wish to let him hold me again I find myself interrupting him. âYou have no business here.â I walk to the open window and take my second drag from the almost fully burned cigarette.
He sighs, frustration slipping through the cracks of his perfection.
âLike it or not,â he emanates divine turmoil as he emphasizes every word âyou are my business.â
âAfter so long we canât be anything but strangers.â
âYou are wrong.â He states immediately as I finish the sentence. âYou cannot act as if you have forgotten everything weâve been through.â His hand once again finds its way to my face and caresses it with smooth, slow motions. This time I let him. âOne more chance is all I ask for.â He whispered.
âOne more chance.â I agree, defeated.
#donna tartt#tsh#the secret history#academia aesthetic#henry marchbanks winter#henry winter#henry winter x reader#reader insert#reader x henry winter#tsh fanfic#the secret history fanfic#the secret history fanfiction#fanfiction#henry winter fanfic#writing
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Rooms on Fire: Crystalline
Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader
Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual
Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist
Spotify playlist
Summery: Madonna is blissfully unaware of the world around her.
Warnings and Content:
DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.
WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!
Extra warnings for chapter: Pregnancy, uuuhhhhhhhh mostly fluff and angst but not bad angst. kinda break up? pushing an shoving and shit. implied violence.
2.8k words
"Do you always trust your first initial feeling? Special knowledge holds true, bears believing I turned around and the water was closing all around like a glove Like the love that had finally, finally found me Then I knew in the crystalline knowledge of you"~Crystalline, Fleetwood Mac
âOw.â
Frankie whimpers as Will tends to his wounds, shirtless in Willâs med room. William found him in here, trying to disinfect his arm from the bites.
âItâs alright, Iâm almost done.â He wrapped Francisco up in gauze, gentle hands on the shaking man.Â
âPlease donât tell BenâŚâ
Will sighs, finishing up his job. âHe doesnât talk to me anyway. But Frank, listen.â He looked at Francisco earnestly. âSantiâs catching on. Youâve gotta be more careful.â
Francisco shook his head. âThereâs no being careful. Thereâs no nothing. Iâm not⌠weâre notâŚâ He sighs. âI canât keep doing this. Itâs gonna get Ben killed.â
Although looking sympathetic, there was a soft smile on Willâs face. âThatâs why Iâve always liked you, Frank. Someoneâs gotta look out for him.â
âYou still do, he just doesnât know it.â
âCâmere.â Will beckoned, bringing Frankie close with his large hand entangling in his brown locks. Will hugged him, then pulled away just enough for a kiss. âYouâre a good man, Francisco.â
He kissed back, but refused to compliment. âNo⌠Iâm not, I canât stand up to Santi, I canât have Ben the way I want I canât protect Madonna-â
A deep kiss interrupted Frankie, Willâs broad, firm body pressing him up against the counter. âYouâre protecting them both, youâre doing the right thing.â Will cupped Frankies face, towering over him. Francisco couldnât help falling into him, submitting to his strength, his power, his dominance. Will brought his hand down, cupping Frankieâs length through his sweats and stroking him to full hardness. âYouâre taking care of them, and Iâm going to take care of you.â
Francisco whimpered, relaxing against the counter as he closed his eyes, sinking into Willâs presence.
âT-Thank youâŚâ
*
âYouâre improving a lot.â Santiago compliments you. He sat in his usual spot, watching you paint your latest project. Youâd seen it a few nights ago, Francisco in a flower crown, smiling with his eyes closed with Pope behind him, kissing his neck. Pope was very pleased with this most recent project, coming to watch you every day. He must really be proud of you.Â
Sipping his wine, he smiled at you from over his glass. This was your special time together, and you always looked forward to it. You were starting to show just a little, and you frequently caught him staring at your stomach.
âThank you, Pope.â You giggle, adding color to the flowers in Franciscoâs hair. Blue, yellow, red, white.Â
Pope didnât touch you sexually, he hadnât since you learned you were pregnant. There was no need, he said, but he still kissed you, still held you, his hands caressing your stomach. Youâd made him proud, and thatâs what mattered. Thatâs all youâd wanted to do since you were a child.
*
âAre you going to talk to me?â Will asked his brother, but Ben didnât turn around. He was doing target practice with his arrows. There was a limited amount of guns and Ben liked to know he could make long distance shots to protect the house if needed.
âBen, come on. I thought we moved past this when I saved your fucking life.â
He turned around, lowering his bow. âYou were protecting Madonna, not me.â
Will rolled his eyes. âSheâs not here, we donât gotta pretend.â
âIâm not? What are you talking about?â
Benny looked genuinely⌠confused. âYou donât remember what happened at the announcement?â
Ben scoffed, when back to shooting. âOf course I fucking do. See, this is the problem with you! You always doubt me!â
âBen, someone tried to shoot you, one of your psycho little girlfriends because you canât keep it in your pants even thought youâve got 2 dicks and a pussy youâre fucking married too, but thatâs not enough-â
Ben swung around again, this time pointing his arrow at Will. âDonât fucking act like Iâm stupid!â
Did Ben actually not know what happened? The lie was his idea⌠âOkay⌠okay Iâm sorry.â
âMelody tried to kill Madonna because she was jealous! Thatâs it! Nothing else happened!â
âI didnât say anything didâŚâ
In a fit, Ben growled and for a moment Will wondered if he was about to get shot again, but instead Ben broke his bow and arrow over his knee. Screaming, he threw it on the ground and stomped until they were just sticks. Ben stormed off.
*
You lay on top of Francisco in your meadow, kissing on him gently, soft and sweet. His poor lip was healing finallly. Francisco stopped you when you go to unbutton his green shirt. You look down at him curiously.Â
âOh, do you not want me? I guess Iâm pregnant already, I can-â You move to get off him, embarrassed. Maybe he didnât like your body as you gained weight? Maybe he just didnât see a reason to fuck you. Maybe he didnât like you againâŚ
âStay, please.â Francisco kissed you deeply, his cock twitching in his pants. âI just⌠I want my shirt on, please⌠â
âOh, of courseâŚâ You pat his tummy, wondering if maybe he shared some of your insecurities. He was certainly the fluffiest of the four, but you absolutely adored the way he looked, his body was perfect to you. âI think youâre⌠so, so handsome, you know that, right?â you werenât good at flirting, even this made your face grow warm, but you wanted him to know how much you loved him.Â
Frankie blushes. âThank you, but Iâd rather keep the shirt on⌠if thatâs okayâŚâ
You kiss his sweet, pouty lower lip with a little peck, considerate of his bite. âAnything for you, my perfect husband.â
You made love in the meadow, trees and flowers and birds and beeâs, all of nature surrounding you, all of heaven and earth shining their approval.
*
Ben stumbled into Frankieâs room, loudly, making the older man just in his bed. He was asleep on his stomach, and the noise scared the absolute shit out of him
âFrankie!â He raised his hands, shouting.
âJESUS Benjamin, what the hell!â He gets out of bed, wide awake now. He was wearing a shirt, no buttons. âAre you-â Francisco turned on his light and cupped Benâs face. âYouâre drunk again? What the fuck Benjamin!â
Not in the mood for a lecture, Ben stumbled forward and gripped Franciscoâs hair, yanking him forward into a bruising kiss. For a moment, Francisco melted into him. He didnât care that his lip throbbed, or that his shoulder and arm still hurt to move. He didnât care about what he was supposed to be doing. He just wanted Ben, his handsome, sweet, fun, goddamnhestall husband, Ben. He kissed him back.
But then he felt his cock, free of any constraint hardening, and he remembered. Heâd not supposed to be fucking Ben like this anymore.Â
Frankie gently nudged him back, but Ben didnât stop, moving to kiss his neck, holding him close.Â
âBenjamin, we canât-â
âWe can.â Ben sucked a hickey into his skin, spitting into his hand to stroke Francisco. âYou and me, Frankie. We belong together.â Although slurring just a bit, Benâs voice was deep, gravely with need, dark and hungry and oh-so spine tingling.
âButâŚâ frankie protested between kisses, making no real attempted to move away as he licked into Benâs mouth, tasting the whiskey on his tongue. âSanti⌠MadonnaâŚâ
Ben spat his words. âFuck âem. They donât matter, only you matte Frankie. Only you.âÂ
He wanted to believe that, he did⌠he couldnât. âIs that why you still fuck both of them?â
âI have to, you know that-â Ben sucked on his tongue, fighting the urge to nibble at his lip, make his own mark.
âDo you âhave toâ fuck every woman in Delta?â
Ben shoved him so hard he stumbled back, it took a second for him to realize what happened.Â
Francisco blinked, then with a puff of his chest he shoved Ben back, making him fall into a side table. When Ben looked up, his blue eyes were large and wet. Frankie wanted to run to him, apologize, help him up⌠but he needed this to end. Ben wasnât going to run away with him, and messing around with Benjamin, even if he was the one he wanted, was going to get Ben killed. Francisco couldnât stand to let that happen.
âThis needs to stop, Ben. Iâm not doing this anymore.â
From on the floor, the 6â3 strongman man looked small, weak, vulnerable. Franciscoâs heart shattered as he screamed. âGET OUT!â He took hold of his shirt in both fists and shoved him the rest of the way out the door.
Frankie locked out the other half of his heart.
*
You sigh constantly, sinking further into the water. Will just got done washing your hair, and now he was giving you a soothing milk bath, even putting flower petals in it. Knelt beside you, he had a super soft washcloth and was simply using it to run warm water over your body. He put lavender in the water, commenting that he thought had more left. Not wanting to lie you tell him the truth, that you and Rey found it you used it on Pope. You apologize for going through his things for spilling it. Will said it was totally okay.
The pregnancy had gone pretty smooth, so far no problems but you were having your usual sleep issues. You and Will developed a routine to help you sleep. Ever since he was shot, youâve been sleeping in his bed. Now, he liked to give you a lavender bath before bedtime. Heâd relax you, sometimes finger fuck you if you needed your mind cleared, then once you began nodding off he drained the water, patted you dry and then carried you to his room in a big towel. There, he dressed you in comfortable pjâs and tucked you in with him. It was nice, you felt safe, and best of all, no incubus.
âSuch a pretty womanâŚâ Will mutters, putting down the cloth to massage oils into your skin. It felt nice being pampered.Â
You giggle. âThank you.â
âEverything going good with the others?â Will always checked in on you, which you appreciated. He helped you navigate things in the house and with Pope especially.Â
âGoing great, thank you. Francisco seemed down there for a little but I think heâs cheered up.â
Will hummed in agreement. âI noticed that too, but youâre right, I think heâs happy now. Frankie had low moods sometimes, but he just needs a little patience and kindness when he does. And you give him that so well, thank you.â He kissed your forehead. âSuch a good little wife.â
âAnd youâre such a good husband.â You tickle his arm, making him smile.
âAnything for my princess.â
*
Pope was gentle today.
Francisco was on his stomach, face pressed into the pillow trying to avoid tempting Pope with his mouth.Â
âSo fucking prettyâŚâ He slowly thrust inside him, softening cockcovering itself in cum. He looked how Frankie looked with his cum leaking out. âBeautifulâŚâ
Santi laid down beside Francisco, and Frankie was ashamed to say he took comfort in the touch. He wanted to hate Santi, but he couldnât⌠he couldnât hate a man heâd known his whole life, who heâd shared that life with day in, day out. They were never apart.
 âIâm so happy with you, FrankâŚâ He kisses Frankieâs head, and Frankie canât help but smile. He liked Santiâs kisses when he was being nice.
âI love you.â
It wasnât a lie.
*
You squeal, dashing around the table to avoid Ben who chased after you with a cup of water in his hand. To be fair, you started the water fight, and now both of you were drenched in water, especially after he took out the kitchen spray in the sink and showered you. Ben laughed, giving chase but he slipped on a puddle, falling on his ass.
âBen!â You gasp, laughing still as he disappears behind the table, and you run around to check on him. Big mistake.
âBOO!â
âAH!!â
Ben threw his cup of water at you, drenching you all over again. You dump your water on his head and then make a mad dash to get more. You werenât above getting him while heâs down.
âOh no you donât!â Ben scrambles up, scooping you up as you scream and laugh, carrying you to the sink.
âBEEEEN!â You playfully smack at his chest, putting up a pretend fight. âWhat are you doing!!â
âWinning!â Benny placed you in the empty sink and turning on the faucet over your lap.Â
He doesnât see it coming when you grab the sprayer.
*
Will heard the shouting from Frankieâs room. Jesus, they were not subtle. It wasnât until he heard the crash he knew they werenât fucking. Getting up to investigate, he was just in time to see Ben getting his ass thrown out of Frankieâs room. Standing in the hall, he watched Ben, clearly drunk, curl up in a ball on the floor and cry.
Ben didnât want much to do with Will, not as a brother. Although they worked well together in matters revolving around their family, their community, their woman, Ben didnât want the closeness and friendship they used to share. Will had hoped after he was shot, Ben would throw his jealousy aside, that he would see that Will loved him and for a moment, he did. When Will was shot, Ben stayed at his side, crying even though the shooter was still at large. He risked his life for him, even with Frankie screaming and pulling at him. Ben helped patch him up, not trusting Iris.
Now Ben was back to Ben, a sad, alcoholic slut.
Will knelt by his sobbing brotherâs side, pulling him into his strong arms. Will loved Frankie, but right now Frankie wasnât his husband. He was the man that broke his baby brother's heart.
âItâs gonna be okay, Benny. Itâs gonna be okay.â
*
You sat on the counter, watching with joy as Reyansh poked at Iris, wrapping his arms around her and swaying. Heâd been trying to cheer her up after sheâd hovered over him and his black eye. Reyansh said it was standard sparring training for the guards and someone got a good shot in, and Jonah confirmed this, but Iris still fussed over him.
âCâmooooon, smile. Baby.â
âNo, Iâm grumpy.â But a smile was slipping.Â
Jonah appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame. âSing to her, thatâs a guarantee.â
âOooohohoho no you donât!â Iris poked at his chest. âThatâs cheating!â Iris was a sucker for Reyâs singing.
It was too late. âLoveân you, is it the riiiigh thing to doooooâ
âReeeeeeyâ
He turned her around to face him, and she was already smiling. âHow can I, ever change things that I feeeeeeeel!â
She giggled as Rey spun her around. âYou know this is my favorite! Itâs not fair.â
âIf I could, baby Iâd give you my world!â
Jonah approached you. Things had still been awkward, but the way Jonah protected you at the shooting made you know for sure that he still cared about you. He held out a hand.
Rey took Irisâs hands, doing the twist with her. You liked how Irisâs curls moved around. She was always pretty, but god, when she smiled. You saw why Rey loved her.
âHOW CAN I WHEN YOU WONâT TAKE IT FROM MEEEE!â
You take Jonahâs hand and as soon as you hop down, he swings you around, paying attention to making sure you didnât hit anything.
Jonah and Rey both sing, very loudly. âYOU CAN GO YOUR OWN WAAAAYYYYYY!â
Iris echoâd them âGO YOUR OWN WAAAAaaaaaayyyâ
Jonah picked you up and spun you around, rey twirled Iris. âYOU CAN CALL IT ANOOOOOOTHER LONELY DAAYAYAYAYYâ
âANOTHER LONELY DAYYAYAYAYAYâ
Reyansh took your hand, linking your arms and Jonah scooped up Iris and spun her.
âYOU CAN GO YOUR OWN WAYYYYâ
You sang with Iris âGO YOUR OWN WAAYYYâ
Rey sang the rest of the song, you all took turns dancing. You didnât dare try to dance with Iris, but to your surprise, she took you in her arms, pulling you close and dancing with you too. She smelled like wildflowers.
*
Earlier that dayâŚ
Rey was whistling down the hall as usual. Today was a good day. It was bright and sunny out, and Iris had a surprisingly low work load. She even agreed to spend the night in his room, which, outside of the potential benefits, meant he got to hold her all night. What more could he ask for in life?
Oh! And he saw Frankie outside gardening, and maybe they shared a blunt. What about it! Yeah, he was in a great mood.
âSaha? A word?â Willâs voice called behind him. Rey rolled his eyes before turning around. Great, this guy.Â
Rey out on a fake smile and turned around. âWhat can I do for you.â
Will was standing with his hands tucked into his pockets, a small smile on his face, but it wasnât comforting, not like Jonahâs smile.
âWas talking to The Madonna last night, she said you helped her break into my room to get my oils?â
AAHHHHHHHHHH thank you so much for sticking with me!!! I'm so happy to have you!!!!
If you enjoy this, you may enjoy Awakening over at my main @romanarose! I have a commission to do, (IronPope!!) but then im gonna REALLY try and crack down on the last chapter. lots of bisexuality, ironpope,fishben, and the sweetest orgy you've ever read
If you're in the "I wanna fuck Jonah" club, I wrote a commission that is NON CANON with pre ROF Jonah, non-madonna reader and Marcus (david harbour), where you're fucking both of them <3 the actions arent cnon but the insights into the characters are!
Madonna and Iris. Alicia is shipping it! What do you think?
Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders
LOVE YOU ALL!
How to keep up with the story!
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#rooms on fire#Triple frontier#dark triple frontier#benjamin miller#dark benjamin miller#william miller#dark william miller#santiago garcia#dark santiago garcia#Francisco morales#dark francisco morales#frankie morales#dark frankie morales#non con#dub con#yandere#yander triple frontier#santiago garcia x reader#benjamin miller x reader#frankie morales x reader#william miller x reader#bisexual santiago garcia#bisexual francisco morales#bisexual benjamin miller#bisexual william miller#FishBen#triple frontier smut#Santiago Garcia smut#Francisco Morales smut#Frankie morales
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Y'all mind if I give a little baby rant? Not something massive but something that bothers me as a writer/theorist (who sometimes makes actual real theories and not just crack)?
This. This right here. I hate this moment in particular. You may ask yourself why I, a vocal Leviathan lover, would hate this moment that focuses on Ra-on having a positive interpretation of one of my favorites. Well... it's because it's a example of how much this game feels it has to hold our hands to make sure we interpret the characters the way they want rather than letting character's actions speak for themselves and allowing the player's to come to their own conclusions.
Here is the thing... I am in complete agreement with what Ra-on says here. I have said multiple times how I read Leviathan's character and this lines up with those interpretations almost 1-to-1. I guess I am glad to know that my interpretation of him was correct, but that doesn't mean I like this moment. I would have preferred to leave it to character analysis and allowing Leviathan to open up more over time to make some parts of his characterization more clear and give him more depth. It just... feels cheap and unearned when the creator has to explicitly tell you what they intended.
Like, I am painfully aware that Leviathan, though very pretty, is not looked upon favorably by a large chunk of the fanbase because of his... eccentricities. Some people just cannot come to terms with his actions or view them in a positive light. Some people don't see him the way I do, which is fine. I respect people thinking what they will about characters (unless they are so wrong it actively goes against the source material, but that is another issue entirely). Seeing this moment where PB just... tells us that Leviathan is so prickly because he does what he must to keep Hades and Hell safe is just boring. There is no spark in finally understanding a character. No joy in realizing their motives. Just the writer telling us what they want us to think of someone.
No, this is not the first time I have noticed this in the story, but I have forgiven some instances because the words were coming from an omniscient narrator giving exposition to fill in gaps that were not show (usually seen in events) and not Ra-on who is the player insert. This moment is just also the more egregious because of how divisive Leviathan is and feels (though however unintentional) that PB is telling the people who don't like him that they misunderstand him and they should actually think about him in this other way so they'll come around to liking him.
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Tell us about your guild? IC story/relations and members/roles as well as OOC information. Are they active? Recruiting?
Probably my favorite thing to talk about! Before I go on to explain anything about the guild, I do wanna say that I truly am blessed as the GM of the Sanctum. I was blessed in our first run-through up till we needed to take our hiatus, I was lucky as a GM when I opened up my Goblin Guild for a few years on @frostahesmegabite and I'm just as lucky with reopening it with a completely different crew. I've been blessed with great writers and even better people and it's only reinforced my opinion that coming back to Villian-based RP was a good idea. Now that I'm done fluffin' my folks (lol), I can answer your stuff for ya! Structure/Roles: The Sanctum of the Forbidden isn't an 'Open for everyone' type of guild. I'm picky on who we recruit, who we bring in character-wise, and how we go about things and that's for a large variety of reasons. The primary reasons are that the concepts of playing a villain tend to require an advanced understanding of story writing, and being able to work with the community you're both in and surrounded by (ie the guild and the public RP population). Structurally we go from New Bloods (New Members) to one of three groups, those being The Onslaught (Our Militant wing), The Shades (Think Rogues, Hunters, Engineers, Specialists essentially.), and Mystics (Individuals who excel at Magical Arts and/or Research). Most members never go beyond this as the next rank is the Inner Sanctum. This belongs to our Officer Core and there's 1 Officer per branch (Once we grow larger if needed, a new rank between that 3 and Inner Sanctum will be created for Sub-Officers to help officers work with their associated branches.) and then you have Dinthoqaf at the top. These roles do not dictate what events you can/can't do or anything, it's merely what your character would prefer to do work-wise, and if your character wants none of them? Then we'll go with what works best as we emphasize personal RP as much as possible over forcing a square peg into a round hole. (I should also add, we're neutral, so Alliance or Horde toons are welcome!) All in all, it's a pretty simple system. The guild operates OOC a bit more loosely however while I do make decisions on things that directly dictate the direction of the guild (final approvals like most GMs), I try to defer to the Inner Sanctum (Officers) in most other matters. Discussing issues, guild reforms on rules if needed, disciplinary actions on what's suitable, and things of that nature. When decisions are made, we go over them with everyone. At this point, we invite everyone in the guild (New Bloods too, even a brand new one.) to offer opinions and insight on the decision and to offer counters on whether they feel something is too strict and things along that nature. No one in the Sanctum is above reproach, especially myself and none of the officers are either. If they mess up, if they did something poorly, I want to know so it can be corrected and fixed. If -I- do something wrong, I cannot begin to fix anything if I don't know about it and I try to make sure all of my members know that they can discuss anything with me, even my failings, without the worry of reprisal. (And I know, it's easy to -say- that, but I try to make sure my actions speak louder than my words in this aspect whenever possible. Best example I have is just a couple weeks ago I made a small poll that offered complete anonymity on my performance and critiques on how people thought the guild was functioning and I've made it a point to adhere to that. No email collections made sure to keep reiterating no specific examples that would out someone, etc.) But I digress cause this is probably already immeasurably longer than you wanted! (Sorry! lol)
Recruiting/Recruitment? Yes, we're always recruiting as our most common method is through referrals/word of mouth. I do have a few discord ads floating around, but I don't like recruiting on the wow forums and I refuse to recruit through the wow public chat channels in-game (Trade, LFG, etc.). You will also catch us occasionally supporting WRA's in-game Guild Faire (Horde side currently till I can be bothered to make an Alliance toon to level and represent us with lol) to support server growth/rp! If you ever see any Sanctum members online and you have questions, give us a poke! Either we'll answer ya or if it's a non-officer, they'll poke/lead you to one of us for ya! :D Activity! Right now the Sanctum is going a bit slow. It's the holiday season. Most of our members have families (Kids, spouses, SO's, etc.) and hold full-time jobs and as some folks know, companies love Overtime this time of year but don't let that dissuade you. Some just have extended travel plans. We're expected to hit full speed on everything again as schedules return to normal in early to mid-January! Story Line? The Sanctum has its overall storyline, which is currently a 'holy war' between Dinthoqaf and his brother, Ammaelin, who absolutely hate one another. Dinthoqaf is making efforts to become a God (It'll never happen, promise. This story has been smoldering for 12 years now and Din will never get what he wants cause, come on.) and his brother stands directly opposed to letting it happen. Not because Din's a 'bad guy' (which he is tbf) but because his brother is just as much an asshole as Din is and believes that Din needs to be put down for the betterment of his family's history and future (That and the fact he's been wounded/humiliated by Din several times has nothing to do with it *wink wink*. Belf Paladin Pride, amirite?). The Sanctum is a core group of individuals who support and/or have belief in Din becoming what he aims to be in the desire that once he becomes this God, he'll cleanse Azeroth of its petty factional squabbles and make it a place where people such as himself and those who follow him will no longer be outcasts or shamed/hated by society simply for being who/what they are. (Essentially, he feels the Horde/Alliance are complicit in their powers and trample on people like he used to be and who he recruits and he is a power monger intent on ripping it all down.) We also have another big bad playing the bigger scene too on this war/rivalry, but, spoilers~.
People tend to join Dinthoqaf primarily because they hate the factions, because they're outcasts and need someone to help them survive, or they just don't know where to go anymore in life. Whatever the reason is, Dinthoqaf takes all willing to serve and aid his cause and becomes something of a father figure to all those who need it.
While this is our 'general' guild storyline, I keep the story relatively simple primarily because I emphasize and encourage personal storylines. Guild story is great, but you know what's more satisfying? Seeing your character -grow-. I'm a storyline whore like that. Dinthoqaf aims to become a god, yes, but I try to play him as a Support Role as often as possible. I want to help -you- build the stories you want to build, to help your character hit the next benchmark you want them to build. As much as I like to lead, I obtain my satisfaction as GM through being a tool to help you get what you need out of your RP. If you read all the way to this, you have no idea how much I appreciate you sticking it out. I have a lot to say but that's because of how proud I am of the community we've built. <3
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jesus sorry last thing actually- i want to make it clear im not some korbin super fan, and i donât agree with her veiws whatsoever. i just disagree with a lot of comments ive seen online about what she has to do publicly or if she deserves to play and so on. at the end of the day she plays a sport and sheâs good at it and THATS what got her where she is and where all of the team is. NOT their beliefs and veiws.
iâm gonna post screenshots of your previous asks instead of answering all 3
re your first ask,
i def think team cohesion is obviously necessary and it makes sense that they donât outwardly hate her even if they disagree with her statements. my comment that they looked excited was more that they look REALLY excited for her. like genuinely, on a personal level, they looked happy for her specifically that she scored a goal. not just that they scored goal. idk if that makes sense.
i think until this match, her performances have been really underwhelming. blame it on the boos and people hating on her, but i donât really think it makes sense to choose a player that brings controversy and hasnât been playing well.
regarding her apologies, i get the point youâre making. people are entitled to their opinions. obviously the issue is when she puts them on social media for the world to see. i donât think anyone can force her to change her beliefs, but i do think that her actions should have consequences. if you spew hate, you shouldnât just get to apologize on your instagram story and move on.
i think maybe you arenât considering that the uswnt isnât just a team with some gay players. for a lot of people, it was the first place they saw openly gay people in the spotlight. the team and the environment around the team is supposed to be a safe space for the fans, which it cannot be if a raging homophobe is in said space.
thatâs why i think the alleged work sheâs doing behind the scenes should be public. like sam mewis said, her actions were very public, and the way she makes up for them should be public as well.
itâs not just woso fans hurt by her actions. adults can read the things she reposted, and not be affected by it, but impressionable kids and teens can read the same thing and take it to heart.
at the end of the day, people are entitled to their opinions and beliefs. the issue with korbin is that her statements were public, were hateful, and disparaged a large portion of uswnt fans as well as someone who has done so much for womenâs soccer and for lgbtq+ issues.
these actions should have consequences, and a lot of people feel that her apology didnât really do enough, and the fact that there have been no tangible consequences is frustrating.
hate shouldnât be excused because itâs someoneâs opinion. people are free to say what they want, but that doesnât mean that these words wonât come with consequences.
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despite my lack of enjoyment for most of the atla post-series comics themselves, i'm very fascinated by the discussions around them because, as with many post-series comics, two of the biggest questions are: are these canon? and does that matter?
it's interesting, too, because i have never seen a single post-series comics continuation that was widely well-received. which is not to say that no one enjoys them - you can find avid supports and avid detractors for just about any property and any storytelling medium you can think of - but that the contention around them is not contained just to atla. (the buffy post-series continuation comics, for example, are pretty controversial as well.)
i think part of it comes down to fan resentment, because as much people say they want more of a certain thing, it's actually often better, at least i think, for a creative project to be self-contained and not try to keep milking the cash cow. and when creators are doing that and not delivering a story fans are happy with, it shows.
but then that also leads to this question, right, of are these post-series comics canon? i think the answer is genuinely more nuanced than some have given thought to. bryke would say yes, as they are the official creators and have been heavily involved in the production of the comics. and anyone who subscribes to the idea that the original creators of a thing hold the final word on the idea of what's canon and what's not would therefore agree also.
but if someone was more inclined to think that once a creator puts their work out into the world, they're sort of giving up the the idea that they have total control as to how people interpret the thing they've created... then it's a lot murkier.
i guess, to be clear, i do not, strictly speaking, see the atla comics as canon. i'm not the type (at least these days, there's a lot of past fandom follow-the-leader-ing i was doing that i now cringe back at, i was sixteen, it's fine) to declare something as 'not canon' if i simply don't like it. i think that's important to acknowledge because sometimes canon is worth criticizing. this is, incidentally, where i (again, these days) find myself uninterested, by and large, in deriding a character for behaving 'ooc', and instead far more interested in contextualizing and analyzing their behavior. after all, if it's in the thing, itâs in the thing.
... except the comics aren't the original thing. they are influenced and backed by the original creators and presumably a lot of people on the original team, but they're an entirely different medium, and presumably not entirely the same team, and they may well have had a very different artistic mission statement or way of brainstorming ideas, etc, etc. (also, to anyone who says the medium does not matter, i implore you to think about how different the show would be with a different musical score! for an instance. and then think about the fact for as big an influence as the music had on the series, the comics inherently cannot translate that.)
which leads me to a rabbit-hole train of thought question there is, i think, no clear answer to, but i will pose it regardless: can something made (at least in part) by the original creators be a 'transformative work'? if you're defining 'transformative' as: "adds "new expression, meaning, or message" to the original work", then i think you could easily argue that the new medium, if nothing else, constitutes a 'new expression.' but then you could also argue that the whole point of the term is to protect creators of transformative works from copyright claims made by the original creators, arguably making that irrelevant.
anyway! even more than the nebulous nature of what a post-canon comic even is, i find fan engagement - or lack thereof - pretty important to the conversation, too. because i think those of us deeply entrenched in fandom spaces tend to forget that casual viewership probably takes up a much larger percentage of most audiences than those in fandom, and that's probably true even years after a show has ended. that being the case, a lot of the audience has probably never even heard of the comics, let alone read them.
there are, naturally, nuances and variables to this, such as the idea that someone who goes back and watches a show from twenty years ago might be more likely to engage in fandom, and the way that 'fandom' has a concept has evolved (as i do think what i'd term 'casual fandom', eg. tweeting about bridgerton but not necessarily consuming or creating fan content is a lot more common now than it was twenty years ago due to social media), as well as the fact that you don't have to be involved in fandom to say, receive the comics as a gift from an uncle who knows you like the franchise.
but all of this can be true and it can also still be true that a pretty big percentage of people who have watched and even love atla haven't read the comics/have no knowledge or interest in them. and so that gets to the issue of does it matter whether they're canon or not? i've seen some KA shippers, for instance, argue that the comics 'fixed' the issue of aang kissing katara without her consent in teip because there's a comic (iirc) where he asks if he can kiss her, she says not right now, he listens, the end. and to be clear, i'm not trying to demean the creators for including that scene, as i think it's important to model healthy examples of consent for kids. but i also really empathize with the idea that it's sort of too-little-too-late because the original issue was never addressed in-show and, again! many people who did watch the show have never and will never read that comic.
so when i hear the debates back-and-forth of whether they count as canon or not, my head hurts, and i just can't find it in myself to care. who knows, right? maybe the real canon is the friends we made along the way. etc.
what it boils down to for me is this: generally speaking, i don't enjoy the comics and have no need or desire to incorporate them into my understanding of atla's series narrative. there are elements that i can appreciate, and they are largely zuko and the fn royal family backstory details, because, unlike the additive adventure narratives, it primarily serves to deepen and contextualize things we already saw in the show. i know some people see this 'i take what i like and dump out the rest' philosophy as, idk, a cheap cop-out or something. maybe they're right! i just can't find it in myself to care. at the end of the day, i think the big important thing for me is that i am able to define and decide on these things for myself. i think we should get more comfortable doing that in fandom in general, tbh.
#i swear i had a point with this. BEGGING someone to tell me what it was lol. this is not well-worded or particularly coherent sorry#this is a post that interests me and maybe three other people and to them i say what's up besties ily!#long post //#atla#sort of?#is this metacommentary. am i using that word right.#it's been a long day.#for entirely unrelated reasons lol#antikataang#jic
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