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narumi-gens · 6 months

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From the Ashes | Part One

Mei Mei x f!Reader

summary: Mei Mei arrives at your uncle's estate as a con woman. She leaves it as your savior.

warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, angst with a happy ending, historical (1920s) au, gothic romance, total rip-off of park chan-wook's masterpiece the handmaiden, con woman!mei mei, sexually and emotionally repressed reader, reader seems to be losing it a little at times, mentioned suicide, minor references to early 20th century japanese politics and colonization (for the history nerds)

words: 3k

notes: after two years, we're finally here! go watch the handmaiden if you've never seen it. it's maybe one of the most romantic movies of all time.

series masterlist

Before deciding to take on a job, Mei Mei always makes sure that she knows everything she possibly can about a potential mark. She learns their history, their routines, their likes and dislikes, as well as what skeletons are hidden away in their closets.

She bribes maids and chauffeurs and everyone else working in service who are treated as if they’re invisible. She digs into every record she can access through any means necessary. Whatever it takes to uncover every dirty secret the mark in question is hiding, she does.

It’s only when she’s sure that she’s left no stone unturned that she decides whether or not to go through with the job.

So, when word reaches her about the pretty little heiress sitting on top of a massive fortune, she finds herself intrigued and begins her discovery process. The picture that begins to form as she does so isn’t anything that she finds all that surprising or interesting.

You were orphaned at a young age and put in the care of your aunt and uncle. Your aunt died only a few years later, leaving your uncle behind as your sole guardian. From what she can gather, your life has been a sheltered one, as is usual for a woman of your status. You don’t seem to have many — if any — friends. The only people you spend any significant amount of time with are the staff working on your uncle’s estate and the man himself.

She’s almost certain that the remote location of the estate, which is nestled deep in the countryside, only contributes to the isolation. But it leaves her with a problem. With so few people who interact with you on a regular basis, she’s left with fewer sources of information than she would like.

However, what she is able to do is intimately familiarize herself with the terms of your inheritance. To inherit, you must marry and until you do, your entire fortune is locked away in a trust. The only funds accessible are the generous annual allowance provided to your guardian — your uncle.

Your inheritance is large enough that she decides to move forward with her con despite the gaps in her research on you. After all, big risks warrant big rewards.

So, she turns her time and energy into crafting her plan: under the guise of a lesser noblewoman, she’ll earn your uncle’s attention and an invitation to his lavish estate. Once she’s there, she’ll prey on your innocence and naivete, seducing you until she can sneak you away in the middle of the night and marry you, only to then cash out your inheritance and do away with you.

And then she’ll laugh without looking back as she makes off with your entire fortune.

When the time comes to put her plan into action, the first part goes as smoothly as she anticipated. Your uncle makes regular trips to Tokyo for business and Mei Mei ensures that when he does, they cross paths. Japan’s imperial ambitions in the region and colonization of Korea have only benefited the man’s financial status over the years, yet he’s still always looking for ways to grow his obscene amount of wealth.

All it takes are a few vague allusions to her being interested in both a new investment opportunity and a new husband for him to take the bait and she’s secured herself an open invitation to his estate to stay for as long as she desires.

She arrives in the countryside and at your uncle’s manor a week later and finds herself thankful that the car that was sent for her has a small glass window that separates the backseat from the driver. The partition allows her a moment to herself to scoff at the sight of the large house, which consists of two massive wings — one in the traditional Japanese style of wood and paper, and the other a Western-style multistory building of brick and stone.

The house reflects the country’s vast and hurried ambitions to Westernize over the past fifty years. Mei Mei has no fondness for tradition. But likewise, she looks equally down upon the uncritical admirers of the West. Everything she detests about the men who have led this country through the past two eras can be represented by this monstrosity of a house.

Of course, when the car comes to a stop in front of the entrance, she makes sure that it’s the awed noblewoman who greets your uncle and not the derisive criminal. The staff are lined up in two neat rows to welcome her, and standing right in front of them is you. And you’re everything that she’s pictured.

You’re prim and proper, your posture perfectly straight and your head respectfully tilted down. Your outfit is fashionable and undoubtedly expensive, but also much more conservative than what’s being worn in Tokyo. Yet when your uncle introduces the two of you and you lift your chin, it’s all she can do to keep a delicate eyebrow from quirking.

Because where she’s expecting to find a shy, innocent, and naive flower that's ripe for picking, she instead finds a cold, sharp ice princess looking back at her in return.

All you offer is a polite bow and a courteous, “It’s nice to meet you, Mei-san.”

However, it’s more than enough to pique her interest, leaving her curious about what lies hidden beneath your thick, hardened exterior.

And just as she’s planned, Mei Mei has ample time to find out. While she does have to spend her evenings with your uncle, entertaining his pathetic flirtations and dreams of acquiring her fictional fortune, business occupies his days, meaning that she can fill hers with you.

The two of you share tea in the sitting room and afternoon walks through the estate’s sprawling grounds. You sit alongside one another and read in the library. She watches as you sketch in a book beneath the towering sakura tree in the garden, although she hasn’t been able to catch a glimpse of what fills its pages.

As she spends more time with you, she begins to take notice of how your hands are always clothed in a pair of gloves that never extend past your wrists. The gloves are rarely ever the same set — sometimes they’re silk with a lace cuff, sometimes a rich leather that creaks with every absent movement of a finger, sometimes they’re the same shade as your skin tone and don’t stand out at all.

There’s something about the way that she never sees you without them that makes her think they’re more than a mere fashion accessory, but she can’t say for certain what the reason could be.

Your uncle encourages her to get to know you better, telling her that he hopes she can soften you with a woman’s touch. One night, with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a cigarette perched between two fingers, he mentions that it’s something that you’ve been without since you were young and your aunt tragically took her own life.

“There’s a touch of madness that runs in that family. My late wife suffered from it and I’ve spent all these years wondering whether my niece escaped it,” he says with a sigh of pity. “At times, I find myself unsure if she has.”

The man demurs to provide any more details, insisting that doing so would be too ghastly for the sensitive ears of a woman, particularly a pair as fine as hers.

His refusal to speak further on the matter to protect her propriety is one of the many things he gets wrong as she’s not only heard much worse, but she’s seen much worse. She’s done much worse.

None of it matters though as she’s already aware through her research into the family that your aunt’s body was found one morning hanging in the garden from the same sakura tree where you spend so many of your afternoons. What your uncle does let slip is that you were the one to find the body.

Finally, Mei Mei has at least one piece of the puzzle that is you.

Another piece is quick to come as it doesn’t take long for her to realize that for all of her scheming and plotting, you’ll never fall prey to whatever trap she manages to set. You’re much too sharp and distrusting for that, keeping her at a distance no matter how much she tries to close it. For all of the hours that you’ve spent together, you’ve never offered her more than cool formalities.

As she contemplates how to adjust her plan in light of this, the seeds of an idea are planted one day as she strolls around the house’s exterior, committing to memory every entrance and exit and window under the guise of appreciating the building’s unique architecture. Just as she rounds a corner of part of the Japanese-styled wing, she stops at the scene that she stumbles upon.

Three housemaids stand in a row facing her, although with their heads shamefully tilted down and gazes fixed firmly upon the gravel path, her sudden presence goes unnoticed. She takes a few steps back, peeking out from the side of the building to watch you as you go down the line, striking each of them harshly across the cheek one by one.

Despite the distance, she can hear the crack of your gloved palm meeting each of their faces and the cries they let out in return. However, she misses whatever scathing words you spit that have the maids looking so fearful. Suddenly, your hand darts out to grab the braid of the girl standing on the right, yanking it so hard that Mei Mei can hear her pained yelp clearly as you force her to the ground.

When you look down at the cowering girl at your feet, continuing to direct your vitriol at her, she’s finally able to catch a glimpse of your face. Across your pretty features, she finds the same coldness that she’s spent the last weeks becoming familiar with since she arrived. You then turn back to the other maids who flinch despite your hands remaining at your sides.

As much as she wants to stay and watch the rest of the situation unfold, Mei Mei decides to make her retreat. She can’t risk being discovered. This new piece of information is something to be tucked away for use when it serves her best.

Knowing that every set of eyes and ears on this estate belongs to your uncle, she wonders what the man’s reaction will be when word inevitably reaches him about your treatment of the staff.

However, dinner passes as it always does without any incident. Your uncle discusses his business in an attempt to impress Mei Mei. Mei Mei acts coy in return. And you speak only when spoken to — which is rarely.

The only proof that anything happened at all that afternoon is the red and slightly swollen cheek of the maid who fills your water glass and the line of tension in her frame as she does so. Mei Mei sees the way your uncle’s eyes barely pass over the maid’s face and realizes that the man already knows about this streak of cruelty in you, this hint of madness in you. He just doesn’t care.

As she watches you eat one grain of rice at a time, bringing your chopsticks back and forth to your plush lips in a delicate motion, she begins to recognize the darkness she sees in you. It’s similar to the darkness she sees in herself.

The next afternoon, she decides to confront you about the incident over tea, curious to see how you’ll respond.

“Why were you disciplining the maids yesterday?” she asks. She hopes to catch you off guard by both the knowledge that there was another party present for the maids’ punishment and by how suddenly she’s broached the subject.

However, you continue to defy her expectations.

“They were gossiping,” you answer simply, your temperament calm and undisturbed as you continue to lightly stir your tea before setting down the small spoon.

“Is that enough of an offense to warrant a slap to the face?” There’s no judgment or criticism in her tone, only pure curiosity. But the question is enough to have you lifting your gaze to meet hers, a cold look in your eyes as you do.

“I want them to be miserable,” you tell her indifferently as you lift your teacup to take a small, ladylike sip. It’s Mei Mei who now finds herself slightly surprised by your blunt response. “It makes life just a bit more bearable.”

She knows how to read people. And she can see what it is that you’re not saying. It’s not just that you want them to be miserable. It’s that you want them to be as miserable as you.

It’s the final piece she needs to solve the puzzle and she hides her satisfaction behind the teacup she brings to her own red-painted lips. A con woman’s greatest asset is her ability to improvise and she has always prided herself on her ability to think quickly, so the solution to her problem comes quickly.

Despite the risks, she’ll include you in her plan and turn you from unknowing target to willing accomplice.

The next afternoon when you both are alone on a stroll deep in the gardens and away from any unwanted ears, she makes her move.

“The terms of your inheritance are rather strict,” she casually remarks and there’s a slightest pause in your step that betrays your surprise at the deviation in perfunctory small talk and she can’t help but feel satisfied with how she’s finally caught you unawares. “You need to marry in order to inherit.”

It’s not posed as a question but as the statement of fact that it is. You remain silent by her side, seemingly unsure of where this topic of conversation will lead.

“Would you like to marry me?” she asks, a coy smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. It’s a question that provokes an immediate reaction from you.

“I have no plans to marry. Ever,” you’re quick to tell her. There’s a forcefulness in your tone that leaves little room for doubt and Mei Mei can feel the urge to giggle threatening to bubble up. It reminds her of the way spoiled children refuse to eat what’s been put before them at dinner.

“Yes, for us, marriage is just another cage,” she muses, settling for a thoughtful hum instead of outright laughter. Any lingering humor dissipates as she poses her next question, knowing how important it is that you don’t misread her or her intentions. “But what if I said that this one would set you free?”

You come to a stop so suddenly that it takes her a few steps before she realizes that you’re no longer beside her. When she turns around, she finds you watching her with a guarded expression. Your posture is perfectly straight, but she can see that it’s due to the line of tension in your shoulders rather than the etiquette lessons she knows were drilled into you as a child.

“I arrived here with a plan: to seduce you, steal your fortune, and then get rid of you.” With each word, she takes a step towards you until only a few feet separate you.

Your gaze remains locked on hers despite how you bristle with the visible urge to put a respectable distance between you once more. Mei Mei can’t help but smirk yet again, despite knowing that doing so will only feed into your distrust.

“But as soon as I met you, I knew that you would never fall for such a ploy.” She then takes on an air that’s only slightly more serious. “So, I’ll make a proposal of a different kind. I’ll spirit you away from your dull life in this country estate and give you your freedom. In return, we’ll split your inheritance right down the middle.”

While she doesn’t expect you to leap at her offer, she at least hoped for a hint of awe in your eyes at the idea of a life without the restrictions placed on you by both your status and society. Instead, you continue to give her nothing.

As the silence stretches on, she prepares herself to mention that fifty percent is more than what she would normally offer an accomplice. But before the words can even form on her tongue, you turn your back to her and begin to walk back in the direction of the house.

Part of Mei Mei expects to be hauled away by the police in the next few hours, but there’s something about your demeanor that keeps her from cutting her losses and running. For how unreceptive you seemed to be towards her proposal, it was your reaction to being offered your freedom that gives her pause.

The tension you carried didn’t stem from outrage, but from self-restraint.

That evening at dinner, you act as if nothing happened. You give your uncle the same perfunctory greeting, you bow lightly to her, and then you take your seat at the table.

She wonders if you just haven’t had a chance to be alone with your uncle and reveal her treachery, but when breakfast proceeds the same way, she realizes that you don’t intend to do anything with this new information. You’ll keep her nefarious secret to yourself, which gives her time to adapt.

Since her plan requires you to be a willing accomplice, there’s a fine line that needs to be walked so as not to scare you off. So, she decides to default to part of her original plan – she'll seduce you.

#tw suicide #mei mei x reader #mei mei #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #mei mei angst #jjk angst #mel writes #from the ashes

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poraphia · 1 year

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So piggy backing off the Wilbur x actor!y/n what if we’re an actor but we have to kiss someone for a scene and Wilbur is there watching us act if that makes sense

"One Good Movie Kiss"

pairing • jealous!wilbur x actor! reader 2687 words • 9.4.23 containing • jealous wilbur, reader is an actor, wilbur and reader meet up after a while of not seeing each other. super super sorry to the anon that asked for this weeks ago! I've been putting it off for so long and I just feel so horribly guilty :c my masterlist ~! ღ mrs. mania ღ on Tumblr

“I've spent weeks away from you. What I'm not about to do is watch you kiss some other man when you're right in front of me.”

♡♡♡

“You’re not kissing anyone.”

I raised my eyebrow with a corner of my mouth quirked up, almost amused by his statement, but Wilbur remained silent on the line. I was in my hotel room after a long day of filming. Wilbur had finished his set a while ago, and now he was waiting in his hotel room before his next flight to a different country.

“Will, it’s part of the script. I kinda have to for, y’know, my job.” I noted, plopping myself down on my bed. All he did in response was hum back.

“Well, whatever you say, dear, I just know you’re not going to be kissing anyone tomorrow.” He said matter-of-factly. I rolled my eyes, not sure if he was joking or was serious. Besides, it’s not like he can just change the script to his liking, right?

Tomorrow Will and the band were going to be flying over to the country that we were filming in for two reasons. One reason was to perform a set for a festival, but the other reason is that with some great negotiating with the director, I convinced the team that Lovejoy could have a feature in the movie. After working with the team for some time, not only did they have a featured song in the movie, but also a scene where they played as a band during the film! I remember telling the band that night, and they were absolutely ecstatic. It was as soon as I got off of work, I rang them in the taxicab back to my hotel.

“Oh, Willll~!” I chimed after Will picked up my call.

Wilbur, who was absolutely groggy after performing, only mumbled when he spoke. “Yes, dear..?”

“Guess what, guess what! Are you with the band? You guys would all love to hear this news.” I asked. With a tired sigh, Wilbur flicked on the camera before outstretching his arm to show him in the passenger seat with the rest of the boys in the back seats. I noticed that through the car windows, you could see it was relatively dark, which was the complete opposite in my case with the bright and sunny sky blaring in my face.

Joe looked half asleep, Ash was on his phone, and Mark looked a bit drunk but nonetheless energetic. “So what did you need to tell us?” Wilbur asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Okay, okay! So remember how I said that I was going to convince the director to feature a song in the movie?” I reminded them. Wilbur slowly nodded in response, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Mhm?” He hummed.

“Well, not only will you guys have a featured song, but also you guys will be playing in the background in one of the shots! Isn’t that so fucking cool?! I’m so proud of you guys!”

Immediately, I saw all the guys sit up with wide grins and look at each other with such enthusiasm. Mark screamed and cheered as Wilbur held the phone close to his face, gasping in awe. “You’re serious?!” Wilbur said. “Like you’re so, so serious??” His mouth then curled into a wide smile before jumping in his seat like a little child.

I smiled, reminiscing at the memory that only happened a few days ago. “Hey, darling?” Present Wilbur called out to me, making me shake out of my thoughts.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’m gonna head out now. Get some rest okay? I’ll be seeing you a couple of hours from now.” He noted.

“Oh, yes! I should get some rest now, should I?” I nervously chuckled, scratching the back of the neck. “I’ll see you soon, my love! Text me when you land. I love you!” With some cheesy little kisses through the phone, I hung up and threw my phone onto the nightstand. I stretched my arms above my head, snuggling into the off-white fitted sheets and pulling up the thick covers to embrace my body. My eyes fluttered close, and soon enough, I drifted off to dreamland.

The next day, I woke up practically jumping into bed and throwing on my usual outfit of sweatpants and tank tops. I walked into my bathroom, thoroughly washed my face with my exfoliating cleansers then brushed my teeth to make sure they were as bright as ever. I tied my hair back into something comfortable before slipping on some tennis shoes and leaving my room with my backpack equipped. Once I walked out, I called a taxi for a fifteen-minute drive to our production set.

In the meantime, I opened up my phone to read some missed messages from Wilbur.

Wilby <3: Hey we landed

Wilby <3: so eepy

Wilby <3: see you in six hours ml :)

With a goofy grin on my face, I responded.

You: headed to the studio now. cant wait to see you wilbs :D

I closed my phone and slid the device into my pocket, exchanging it for a pair of headphones as I admired the streets of the city.

Once I arrived, the office was bustling per usual with cameras getting readily in position and screenwriters and editors discussing the process of the movie shots. I made my way toward the breakfast table. On display, there were fruits, bagels, and yogurt cups. I decided to take a yogurt cup and plastic spoon before wandering around the set, examining the different scenes that were being worked on.

Once I finished a lap around the warehouse, I heard the front door open, and it was none other than Wilbur carrying his guitar case on his back wearing baggy clothing and glasses resting on the bridge of his none. Immediately dropping my bag and throwing my cup into a nearby trashcan, I ran up to him, jumping into his warm embrace after what felt like years.

“Wilbur, Wilbur, Wilbur!” I exclaimed, burying myself in his chest. His arms slithered around my waist as he held me tightly, picking me up ever so slightly.

“(y/n)! I’ve missed you so much!” He twirled me around before placing me back down. “How are you, my love?! Has the States been treating you well?” He ran fingers through my hair as I held on to his wrist, not letting my eyes leave that gorgeous smile on his face.

“Surprisingly well! How about you, sweetheart? Have you been okay?” I asked.

“Well I’m certainly more than okay now that I’m with you—”

We heard a voice clear his throat only for us to whip our heads around. Joe, Ash, and Mark stood there awkwardly having to endure the immense PDA they had just witnessed. Instantly, we both pulled away with a tint of red brushing our faces.

“S-sorry—!” I stuttered. “How are you guys?”

“Hey, (y/n)! We’ve been doing just fine.” Mark held up his drumsticks, resembling a wave. “Were you guys getting ready to film?” He asked.

“Err, well-” I stepped back a bit from Wilbur to direct my attention to the guys. “In about fifteen minutes maybe? The director is somewhere with the film crew, so you guys can talk to him in the meantime. I gotta meet up with the cast in a bit to go over some lines and stage acts.” I checked my watch, realizing I had somewhere to be in just a few minutes. “Just for now walk around and get acquainted with the set. I’ll be seeing you guys later, I promise!”

Giving Will a quick peck goodbye, I jogged over to where the rest of the cast was, and from then on, we discussed our lines and what scenes we would be filming for that day. Some of the scriptwriters joined us as well, telling us how they envisioned each of the scenes.

“So this part is where we show the Masked Woman’s origin when she fell in love and then lost her lover.” One of the writers said, pointing at our papers. “We’re going to have a scene where they kiss while the band is playing in the background just to really feel that teenage kind of innocent love. Make sense?” I looked around, seeing all the actors nod, but my mind was racing.

We were going to kiss in front of the band?

God, I know Wilbur wouldn’t be too happy about that.

“Hey, you’re doing alright?” I felt a hand on my shoulder, only to look up at the hired love interest that I was set to kiss with.

“Oh— Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my boyfriend is the lead singer of the band that’s going to play— Not sure if he’ll be too fond of watching us kiss.” I lightly chuckled to myself, but in reality, I was a little nervous. He raised an eyebrow before turning to a writer.

“Is there a way where we can hide the kiss? So we don’t actually have to y’know— actually kiss?” He asked.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” The writer sighed, tilting her head to the side. “The director is really strict on this. He wants a perfect, loving kiss scene.”

With a defeated sigh, I shook my head. “It’s fine, really. Just wanted to see if there were any cheatways into this.” I said, scratching my neck. “I’m gonna go do my hair and makeup. I’ll see you guys in a bit!” Begrudgingly, I trudged to my dressing room to get my outfit and makeup done. I know on one hand, this is my job, of course, I was going to have to kiss someone. It’s not like I haven’t kissed anyone on a set before! I mean, that was before I met Will at least… Still, I wonder. What was Will’s plan? It’s not like he can improv his way into being the one to kiss me. Unless?

After roughly an hour or two, it was finally time to film the scene. Lovejoy has been recording shots for the montage segment of their band playing as the actors and I have been rehearsing the following lines. But for the most part, it was small talk while watching the band perform. Which was completely fine in my eyes since it’s been so long since I’ve seen Wilbur and the band play live. All of the main actors carpooled into one van and were eventually transported to an outside area. There stood the director, Lovejoy, and the camera crew.

The setting took place at an outside area near a bay. The boys were set to perform at a stage-like gazebo with makeshift speakers and wires trailing along the floor. A little fan was even placed as a prop to refresh the band. I hopped out of the car, approaching the set steadily, unsure if they were still filming or not. Eventually, the director turned to us, greeting us with his signature jolly laugh.

“There yall are! Now, we just finished the takes for the band. Now as they’re playing, we need you two—” He pointed at me and my assigned love interest. “—to stand relatively in front of the stage watching them perform. Then after some deep small talk talking about how much you enjoy the scene, you two kiss! Got it?” Reluctantly, I nodded. I glanced over to Will as he clutched his water bottle, taking a swig but still keeping an eye on our group.

Oh boy.

We continued on with taking scenes. My love interest and I were in the middle of the crowd around us, but given the small venue space, there were only several other people. Roughly, I’d say under fifty people. I stood next to him as we chatted about our made-up lives, talking about experiences we had when we were children, all while a camera glided along the outskirts of the crowd listening to the band.

“Ah, hold on. Are you feeling thirsty?” He asked in character. I chuckled before responding.

“Yeah, actually, it is hot out here. There are some drinks being handed out over there,” I pointed my thumb to the concession stand behind us. “Grab us some drinks. I’ll just listen to the band for now.” I smiled. He nodded, rubbing my bare shoulder before walking past me. Holding back my sigh, I turned to Wilbur. Now was the easy part of the scene where I got to just listen to the performance.

“I’m scum. I’m waste. I’m what.. You want.” Wilbur strained into the mic. I bit my lip, holding back the lyrics I wish I could harmonize with the man. I couldn’t do as little as mouth the lyrics, knowing that the camera was panning to capture my expression. I simply smiled up to Will, and soon enough, I met his gaze looking down at me.

In turn came Ash’s bass and Mark’s drums, revving up to Joe’s solo. Wilbur was the only one not playing right now, but that didn’t stop his theatrics. He swung his arms back and forth, pacing a little in place, until eventually, he descended off the pavilion with a bounce to each step. I looked around a bit, confused and not knowing if this was part of the script. The crowd stepped away, basically giving Will his right of way right in front of me.

“W-Will, what are you doing?” I whispered. In return, he didn’t answer. With one hand on his guitar, and the other cupping my face, Wilbur pressed his lips against mine as Joe’s solo played in the background. A huge blush crept onto my face to the tip of my ears, and all I could do in response was melt like ice cream. I fluttered my eyes closed with my hands running through his damp hair. I was desperate for his taste, something I never realized how much I was longing for until now. What stress I had building up in my system, whether it would be the intensity of filming or missing my family and friends, dissipated just from such a tender and innocent kiss.

Wilbur eventually had to pull away. I opened my eyes, revealing his smug smile, and a wink shot in my direction. “Meet me after the concert, baby, just thought you looked nice.” And with that, he turned around to finish performing the rest of the song.

What.

The fuck.

Just happened?!

Once the band finished the song, the director got out of his chair. “And cut!” He exclaimed. I looked over to see him rushing between the crowd, a joyous look on his face. “That was amazing! From that one take alone I could feel the passion! The love! That’s what we were aiming for!” He turned away from us and waved his hand to his production crew. “Tell the writers we’re going to go a little off-script because that was amazing! (y/n) and—” He turned around to face Wilbur. “Will, was it?” All Will could do was nod with a sheepish smile on his face. “Will, my man! You certainly know how to capture an audience! Alright everyone, regroup for fifteen!” The director turned away from us as the hired audience filed for a break.

I looked over to Wilbur, who looked as shy as ever. I crossed my arms and furrowed my eyebrows, but I couldn’t hide that smile plastered on my face. “So.” I started.

“So what?” Wilbur repeated, playing dumb.

“So this what your masterful plan you were talking about last night?” I inquired. Bashfully he swayed side to side, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe.” He mumbled. I rolled my eyes, a bit amused by his change of demeanor.

“Clingy bastard.” I turned around and headed toward one of the trailers, leaving him speechless.

“What—! Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” I heard him calling from behind. “(y/n)!”

♡♡♡

a / n ~ deeply apologize for just a really shitty thing of writing. I've spent roughly days working on this? Just putting it on and off. I am very eepy. If anyone messaged me or in my inbox I promise ill respond in the morning. reblogs and likes very appreciated! tysm ssososo much for the support <3!!

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ominous-feychild · 2 months

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✦ OC Moodboard Tag 2 ✦

THAT'S RIGHT, BUDDY, IT'S TIME FOR ROOOOOUND TWO!!!

Rules: make a collection of 5+ images that represent or symbolize one of your ocs! It can be in any way, for any reason! Just have fun with it! ☺️

I was thinking about doing some more of these things and, well, between the two asks I've gotten in my inbox declaring their interest in Rising From the Ashes / Sammy in particular, I decided, hey--why not give him a showcase? (Also I love him, he's one of my very many favorite characters. 🤣)

SAMMY || THE HEALER

For this one, unlike Roman's, I wanted to put the text posts on the outside of the rest of the images because I think they distracted from the carefully-created aesthetic here, haha.

So, Sammy! Our boy Sammy is, surprise surprise, a healer! Except... he's also got a ton more magic besides that! And even more than just what I mentioned on that one post a couple days ago! Though that's mostly due to the quirks of how magic works in my universe and how his "magic source" has control over a lot of things, so he technically has "a lot of magic" despite only having two "sources". 👀

I've definitely said too much, but I'm curious to find out what you guys think his magic is/what he's capable of doing!

More on Sammy: he grew up on the streets and shows up after a disaster happens early into the story, leading to a lot of people getting injured! He offers to help and--despite his young age--he's brought along to assist in the relief efforts since healers are so few, far between, and generally weak! When it's revealed just how powerful his healing magic is, he gets an interview with Kieran Caron himself and Sammy's quickly offered a spot in Caron's elite knight school!

Surely he won't regret accepting that, right?

... right?

Sun and Shadow: Freya Ula | Crow the Cursed | Daleira Fenastra (wip)

Rising From the Ashes: Sammy | Kieran Caron | Roman Leveque

Tagging (gently!!!): @the-golden-comet @honeybewrites @yourpenpaldee @darkandstormydolls @the-letterbox-archives (yw for the extra Sammy content btw 😘👀)

@illarian-rambling @wyked-ao3 @creative-author @ath3alin @mysticstarlightduck + open tags!!!

Divider by @saradika!

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frickingnerd · 5 days

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yandere lana skye

pairing: lana skye x gn!reader

tags: pre-sl9!lana (+some post-sl9!lana at the end), mentions of ema, overprotective girlfriend!lana, locking reader away (tiny bit)

even during her time as a detective, lana has already experienced loss that scarred her immensely

after her parents died, she vowed to never let anyone she loves die or get hurt ever again!

especially not you, her beloved darling, who lana is so determined to protect from any harm that comes your way!

lana doesn't like it when you visit her at work, as she believes her workplace to be one of the most dangerous places you could be!

she's always happy to see you, she just can't help it, but she'll scold you nonetheless if you pay her a surprise visit!

lana isn't the most jealous yandere and if she knows the people you spend time with well, she usually doesn't mind them being around you!

she's only bothered by strangers being a bit too friendly to you, fearing they might have ulterior motives…

lana also tries to make you get along with ema! her sister means a lot to her and she knows that ema is the most trustworthy person she knows, so if lana can't keep an eye on you, she knows ema can!

lana knows ema isn't a threat to your relationship and is actually your biggest supporter!

while lana is already overprotective, after the events of sl9, she'll become even more protective of you!

during the first few days, she doesn't even want you leaving the house without her by your side! and should you refuse, she doesn't hesitate to abuse her power and lock you away for a while!

only to keep you safe, of course…

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somethingformyself · 4 months

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THE X-MEN ARE MORE THAN 1 CHARACTER!!!

FUCK YOU & YOUR FAVES!

THE X-MEN ARE MORE THAN 1 CHARACTER!

Don't watch the show or read the comics if you can't handle seeing other characters shine. There were only 10 episodes, but somehow, YOUR FAVE needed to be in every scene?

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danwhobrowses · 7 months

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So Callowmoores am I alone in thinking it was cute that Fearne helped carry Ashton to the city? Like there's the parallel also with Ashton carrying her into the Bloody Bridge as well

#might just be that the callowmoore tag isn't showing everything it's just I didn't see it get brought up by anyone #Ashley/Fearne was well into Ash's Titan stuff too #2 points of exhaustion though is indeed rough can see why Fearne didn't wanna test everything at Mori's #Ash probably overdid it because they've been charmed/lured twice now and want to contribute positively #plus they couldn't tell Imogen to push themselves if they don't do the same #they're trying just like they promised and it needs to be shown encouragement and appreciation for it #Grog on the moon theory is at a crossroads next ep #still candela next so I gotta ration these crumbs; ironically this parallel will also carry me to the next episode #though I'd always be open to a big ol' slice of the shippy cake when time appropriate #Fearne could test her new rogue skills to mage hand pickpocket Ashton maybe? or just anything sweet and tender between them #or more sticking up for one another and endorsing each other's chaos I just need to be fed #also the New Mutants character Tal is thinking of is called Warlock btw - looks like FCG if he wore The Mask #Ashley hinted at possible 'talking and then bed' not to (totally to) insinuate #Dire Wolves also have high perception and adv on attack rolls if an ally is 5m from a creature so Fearne was thinking tactically too #maybe I talk too much on tags...#callowmoore #tag reader bonus: Fearne loves it when Ashton kisses the back of her neck - she got a tattoo of their name there to surprise them #fearne calloway #ashton greymoore #fearne x ashton #ashton x fearne #critical role #cr3 #cr3e86 #cr spoilers #critical role spoilers #rockwild #bells hells

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agentmarcuspike · 1 year

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no one asked but here's a moodboard for "a safe haven" by @pedgeitopascal because it's so good and i think about it daily (and also she deserves some love rn)

#this doesnt do the sex on the porch justice just know that #tlou fanfiction #pedgeitopascal #a safe haven #ash fanfic #joel miller x reader #i have a picture that reminds me of reader soooo much like when she's finally free from fucking L*ke #but it didnt work with the rest of the pictures so maybe i'll have to make another one after the next chapter #and the bruise pic feels slightly wrong but also necessary #moodboard #madeamoodboard

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 9 months

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From the Ashes Pt. 31

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Reader POV

Words: 4328

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

The crescent tip of your fingernail traces along the bumpy ‘scales’ on the massive opal that lay on the pillow next to you. Though dulled and partially covered with years of neglectful dirt, the stone that shone underneath was beautiful. There were traces of blues, greens, yellows, and even pinks. All held together in a cream blanket.

Tyrion sat with crossed legs on your bed with you. He was equally puzzled on why your former maid had sent this opal to you beyond the grave.

The opal. . . Strange as it was, it radiated a comforting warmth whenever you wrapped your arms around it. You hadn’t felt such calmness in a long time. Even with your youngest brother now by your side, you knew you still had much ahead to stress about. Back in Westeros you had no such worries except Rhaegar’s infidelities. You had no duties and no one expected anything from you besides to provide Rhaegar with an heir that would one day rule the Seven Kingdoms. The one thing you had been expected to do. . . unfortunate events ripped your child from you and tore apart your world. Now you were in Essos where everyone expected the world of you. It was daunting and stressful. You had enjoyed sword fighting with your brother and everyone else, but the reality of your situation truly came to light when you had fought Inniros.

“Are you going to show it to that bald dude?”

You chuckle at him. “You mean the High Priest? Hm, I don’t know. Thalina sent this to me for a reason. Maybe she wanted me to sell it?”

Tyrion picks up the opal and puts it on his lap. “You would get a lot of money for it! It’s basically the size of a large egg. I would have never imagined that this was what Selmy was carrying around this entire time.”

Furrowing your brow, you prop yourself up on your elbow. Why would Thalina give this item to Varys. You hadn’t even known they spoke at all. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about Thalina. Like you hadn’t known she had a sister.

What did Varys, the Master of Whispers, have to gain from this? It made you worry of what he planned to do with this information. He knew you were alive.

“Barristan didn’t say anything else about Varys, did he?”

Shaking his head, Tyrion looks up at you sensing your mistrust of the knight he had been traveling with. “No. He’s good at keeping secrets. He didn’t even tell me we were delivering it to you until we arrived in Lys. I was so mad. He didn’t tell me that my own sister was alive.”

Softening and reaching out to him, your fingers smooth down his unruly hair. “Regardless, I’m happy you’re here Tyrion. I’ve missed you so much.”

His face is endearing and full of warmth as Tyrion lets himself fall into your touch. “I missed you too (y/n). When. . . the fire. . .” He couldn’t even talk about it for it made his eyes glossy. Chest raising as he took a deep breath, Tyrion collected himself. “Casterly Rock has been insufferable.”

You watch Tyrion shyly fiddle with the opal on his lap. He didn’t want to meet your eyes again otherwise he might very well end up crying. “I could only imagine. I know it must have been hard but what you did was very dangerous. You could have been killed had it not been for Ser Barristan. We have to thank him before he leaves.”

Tyrion scrambles off of the bed and looks out your window. The early morning sky was growing brighter with the continued rising of the sun. “He wakes up early. If we want to catch him, we’d have to leave for his room now.”

He sounded anxious. Maybe he hoped for his knight to stay. That was impossible though. Barristan was already in deep trouble for leaving Aerys’ side.

You nod and get up as well, not before grabbing the opal.

He wanted to leave as soon as possible. Once the sun rose, Selmy was up and pulling on his armored chest plate that he hid under his normal clothes. Without the chest, Barristan had more room for movement.

There was a nagging feeling that prevented him from leaving right then and there. He needed to see Tyrion one last time. He had grown fond of the boy, even attached. Tyrion had made the journey more bearable for Selmy.

Selmy had told Jaime just that when they had their private discussion. . .

“Before you go on to scold me, I want to thank you.” Jaime’s normally cocky tone was dialed down to that of genuine humbleness and gratitude. “You saved my younger brother. Brought him here and made (y/n) incredibly happy. I don’t have much at the moment, but I owe you.”

Selmy had wanted to yell at him. Disgrace him and fill Jaime with shame for abandoning his post. In the grand scheme of things, Selmy knew it was no longer important. There was something else going on in the temple that Barristan had no comprehension of. This was a new world to him. (y/n) and Jaime seemed to be highly regarded there. Plus, Selmy had done the very same thing. He had forsaken his king and vows to do what the Spider had asked of him and for what? Had it been the worry and fear on the eunuch's face?

Pursing his lips, Barristan’s shoulders slump. “I’m not going to scold you. Even if I did, would you listen?”

Jaime pauses to choose his words carefully. That was also something new. A thoughtful Jaime. “Out of respect for you, I would have. I would’ve listened but it would have done nothing to change my mind. My loyalty is in a much better place. With my sister (y/n).”

“So you acknowledge that you have committed high treason then?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Jaime nods with an easy smile that unnerved the seasoned knight. “But I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. I would do them all again. If I hadn’t done what I did, (y/n) would have been dead. I will never regret turning my back on Aerys and the rest of the guard. I’ve fought along the men here, they are good men. Well, most of them. I do know that they would put down their life for my sister. She is much safer here than in Westeros where someone was obviously trying to kill her. . .”

Why had his voice grown quiet? “Did you ever find out who set fire to her rooms?”

Green eyes flicking away, Selmy saw a newly healed cut on his cheek that had barely missed his eye. “No.” It sounded like a lie but Selmy wasn’t going to pry anymore.

Barristan Selmy sighed and glanced at the door. Was anyone listening in on their conversation? Probably. Those who resided in the temple didn’t seem to trust him. “Who are these people? Why do they treat your sister like. . . Like she’s-”

Jaime cuts him off “Like she’s important?”

Not exactly what he was going to say, but it was along the lines. “Strange men with tattoos on their faces and women who look just as terrifying. . .”

Out of the blue, the former Kingsguard knight shakes his head. “I can’t tell you. Not if you intend on going back to King Aerys.”

“You know I have to.”

“Obviously you don’t have to. Look at me now.” Jaime barked out a laugh. “You don’t owe anything to the Mad King. You're one of the best knights in all of the Seven Kingdoms. Do whatever the hell you want! I know Tyrion would be happy to have you here.”

Barristan stood up; he had hoped that Jaime would return with him. Maybe then Aerys wouldn’t be as upset for him leaving for so long. It was clear that Jaime wasn’t going anywhere and Barristan didn’t have the manpower to force him back to Westeros. And there were Jaime’s fellow soldiers to worry about.

Jaime reigned himself back in. “One of these days Selmy, you’ll find something that is truly worth your loyalty. It will be your reason to change. When that happens you’ll see how much of your life you have wasted in the service of Aerys Targaryen.” Getting up as well, Jaime held out his hand. “There are no hard feelings from me though. Go back to Westeros if you must. My place is here.”

Maybe it was just Selmy, but he saw a change in the young, cocky, Jaime. In his Kingsguard days, Jaime had kept his brilliant shock of gold hair short and had a permanent air of arrogance about him. Before him was almost a completely different young man. Hair had grown long and was kept at bay with a rope tie. His former peach complexion was gone, overtaken by a tan. Foresaking his suit of metal in exchange for looser, more comfortable, attire; Jaime looked at ease in his surroundings.

Holding out his hand, he grasped Jaime’s outstretched one.

“Ser Barristan?” A muffled voice on the other side of his door nearly startles him. It sounded like Ilta’s, the soldier who had escorted him to his room.

His assumptions proved correct, but there was another female guard with her. Tall with short blonde hair sheared close to the scalp with the same flames upon her cheeks.

“Dārilaros (princess) (y/n) would like an audience with you before you leave.” Ilta speaks again.

“If you would be so kind as to follow us.” The blonde guard offers Selmy a tentative smile.

On his way through the temple, they passed through the open, arched, hallway that looked out into what appeared to be a training facility. The ground was void of any greenery and beaten down into sand in the middle. Beyond one could easily see the rolling waves and incoming ships.

Men and women in the same orange and red robes sparred with one another.

“That’s where our Fiery Hands train.”

Barristan nearly choked on his air. He hadn’t heard this small girl’s arrival. It was like she had popped out of nowhere.

Ilta greets her. “Lady Alizah.”

She was a lot shorter than Ilta and had a unique pale face with her lips dyed black with streaks tattooed on either corner of her mouth. Her scarlet freckles made Selmy wary that perhaps this girl had some kind of disease.

Lady Alizah’s almond shaped eyes look directly ahead, not missing a beat with her companions despite her stature. “Ilta, Chetna. Sorry to have surprised you.”

“Are those the temple soldiers?”

“Something like that. Although I personally believe they’re more than soldiers.” Her voice has a dreamy softness that could put someone comfortably to sleep if she so wished it.

“They hold up the faith of R’hllor, the Lord of Light.” The guard known as Chetna helps to further elaborate and points to her cheek. “The tattoos, a symbol that the Lord of Light is always with us.”

He had heard that those who believed in the faith of R’hllor came off as religious zealots. Selmy now realized it was true. The religion was hardly spoken of in the Seven Kingdoms with many people believing in the Faith of the Seven or even the Old Gods. It was mainly a forgein religion that Selmy was not familiar with.

“Don’t bother with Ser Selmy with your talk of R’hllor.” Ilta tells them with a wave of her hand. Her golden bangles clink against one another. Even though she was a soldier of faith, she still had her courtesan trinkets that she dare not part with. Each one of the bangles she wore could probably pay for a small army.

“They’re no bother. I’ve never heard anything about it.” He simply shrugs, not wanting to offend their beliefs.

Their little group was slowing down, drawing closer to (y/n)’s private chambers where a few guards milled up and down the corridor.

Lady Alizah stops them in front of a large wood door. In the dark wood there were intricate designs that Selmy’s old eyes couldn’t possibly make out. It was clearly made with the utmost care. “Perhaps if you come back to Volantis, we can have a chat about R’hllor. If you so desire.” She bows a little at her waist before heading down the opposite way.

A guard that was standing off to the side goes to the small girl and in a whisper asks if she would like assistance back to the High Priest. Alizah smiles but shakes her head, continuing on her merry way.

Chetna raps her knuckles against the door and took a step back. The door lurched for a second before being pulled open. Tyrion smiled up at Barristan Selmy. “Thought you could leave without saying bye?”

Barristan chuckled. “I figured you would send their entire army out to catch me.”

“I do have friends in high places.” Tyrion stepped aside for the knight to enter.

At the center was a tiled table, plush cushions surrounding it and on one of them sat (y/n). Next to her, in a lounged cross leg position was her older brother Jaime. She puts her cup down on it’s saucer and stands up to greet him.

“Ser Barristan.” She tilts her head down in a customary form.

The action made him feel slightly embarrassed. “That’s not necessary. . . my lady? I’m not sure what title to use. . .” Jaime hadn’t exactly been clear what her role was with these people.

Awkwardly (y/n) laughed. “Ah, you can just call me (y/n).” The climate of Essos agreed with her complexion and demeanor. He couldn’t quite remember her from her time in the Keep, but he knew that she had never appeared this comfortable with herself. “I owe you my gratitude for bringing both my brother and Thalina’s gift to me.”

Heart rekindled with a giddy jump, Barristan had to hold back his excitement. “The chest. . . you opened it already?”

(y/n) motioned for Barristan to take a seat on a cushion. At first it was a bit awkward to position himself on, but eventually he found a comfortable enough spot. Tyrion muffled his giggle and sat next to him. Two servants came with tea and snacks, setting them on the low table.

“It wasn’t easy.” Tyrion told him. “Rhiannon- oh! She’s Thalina’s sister by the way. Thalina was (y/n)’s maid. Rhiannon spent all night trying to open it. Turned out the box itself was a giant puzzle!”

From behind his back, Jaime revealed a large opal. Oddly shaped, it glimmered with so many beautiful colors that Selmy had never seen before. “This is what was inside it. The note left behind for my sister said it was found in Dragonstone.”

Not knowing what to make of it, Barristan glances at the three Lannister siblings. Each one looked so different from the other besides their blonde hair. Tyrion was excited about everything happening to him.

The maid must have stolen it from Dragonstone. Why she wanted (y/n) to have it so desperately was beyond him.

(y/n) watches him with guarded thoughts. Much like the scar on Jaime’s cheek, she had a newly healed scar above her brow. Her long dirty blonde hair was also pulled back into a ponytail similar to her older brother’s. It was the perfect hairstyle in a climate like Essos; it kept them cool while also protecting their neck from sunburns. There was definition of bicep muscles as well that told Selmy (y/n) had been physically training. The docile little girl from Westeros had evolved and grown under the Red Temple’s roof.

“What has the sister said of this?” A small teacup in front of him, Barristan felt a little silly picking it up in his massive hand.

“She’s equally perplexed about it.” (y/n) admits, her eyes flicking over to the opal that her brother was now handing her. She weighed it in her hands, eyelids drifting downward as she gazed at it. “But she knows her sister must have had a good reason. It’s the least of my worries right now.”

A door off to the side opens and a small maid with dark braids walks in with a tray in her hands. Atop of the tray is a velvet cream bag. She places this in front of Selmy. Jaime thanks the girl and calls her ‘Inanna’. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old but smiled politely and went back through the door she had come in through. “Our thanks.”

Hesitant, Selmy tugs at the gold cord that kept the bag shut. When he looked inside he couldn’t believe the amount of gold that lay inside. He immediately closed the bag. “I don’t need this. Knowing that Tyrion is here with his family is thanks enough. I have done my duty to the Spider.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes and huffed, pushing the bag closer to him. “Just take it. (y/n) said this was also from the High Priest. The bald dude that we met yesterday.”

“As a reminder also to keep her existence a secret. Better yet, don’t tell anyone about us either.” Commented Jaime in a slightly warning undertone.

His hand hovered over the bag before clutching it and putting it in his robes. Selmy nods. “Very well. I shall take it for your piece of mind. But you can trust me. I will not tell a soul.”

Timidly, Tyrion siddles up to Selmy and quietly tells him “If you happen to see Lady Ashara again, tell her I said thank you for her generosity.”

Selmy might never see the beautiful lady of Starfall again. Once he returned to King’s Landing, who knew what Aerys’ reaction would be. The Mad King could easily order his execution and he would be in the right.

Patting him on the head, Selmy smiles warmly. “Don’t forget to keep practicing. Don’t let anyone tell you what you can or can’t do. That’s all up to you.”

Even (y/n) grew a little dewy eyed at Tyrion acting so tough in front of his mentor. The youngest Lannister nods. “Yes, sir.”

He was a good kid. Selmy would miss him dearly.

You knew a part of him hurt at watching Barristan Selmy’s ship sail off toward the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrion had voiced his wish that the knight would decide to stay and continue to teach him how to swordfight.

Drawing him closer to your side, Tyrion’s hands grab at your skirts. He didn’t want to show how he was feeling and hid his face. “You’ll see him again. I’m sure of it.”

“That is if Aerys doesn’t kill him upon his arrival.” Tyrion mumbles against you.

Biting your bottom lip you knew that was a high possibility. You look back out to the glittering sea. You prayed to whoever was listening to keep him safe.

Jaime was still perched on his cushion, enjoying the refreshments that Siofra and Inanna had dropped off. Aimlessly picking at pieces of nuts and fruit but you could tell his mind was somewhere else. Did his presence bring up Jaime’s regret? It was a cold reminder of his desertion and the consequences that would fall upon him if he returned to Westeros while Aerys was still king.

The sooner Rhaegar won the war, the better. When you return. . . well, you had lots of hopes of your return, but the biggest was the hope that Rhaegar would grant Jaime leniency. He had proved himself to be a good man and shouldn’t be punished for abandoning his post. Maybe even reinstate him into the Kingsguard if Jaime so wished.

For a moment you stare at the back of Jaime’s head, lost in thoughts that revolved around Rhaegar. It wasn’t anything new. You frequently thought of Rhaegar during the rare moments you were completely alone; mostly at night when you missed his sleeping form next to you. At night was when you were most lonely. The phantom caresses you tried to bring upon your memory were now fleeting. It had been so long since you had been in Rhaegar’s arms. You couldn’t exactly remember how it felt but you knew that you missed it dearly. You missed his soft exhales as he dreamed much sweeter things than his reality. Missed how he would unconsciously wrap his arm around you and pulled you closer to him.

Barristan Selmy had been a distant connection to Rhaegar and it made your memory burn with desperate want.

When Jaime turned around, he broke the spell you had been under. He looked equally dazed from his own deep thoughts. Had he been thinking of Cersei? He must miss her like you missed Rhaegar.

He holds up the opal. “Were you going to take this to the High Priest? He might know something about it if he can read the fire.”

“Eventually. But first,” You twist around back to Tyrion who was still looking out on your balcony. “I want Tyrion to meet someone.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I’m sure there’s plenty of new people for him to meet here.”

You shake your head. “No one like Inniros.”

“(y/n)-”

“We’ll be fine.” Trying to assure him, you took the opal out of his hand. “As long as I bring Lightbringer, you shouldn’t have to worry. The High Priest doesn't see him as a threat either. He gave Inniros his own room.”

Jaime wanted to press on about the dangerous darkin, but he pressed his lips together and simply nodded. He had personally seen you go head to head with Inniros. Not even Jaime had been able to wound the assassin. You had been the only one able to stop him in his deadly tracks.

“What are you guys talking about?” Tyrion walks back into your room looking older than he was.

You smile at him. “How would you like to meet an actual darkin?”

His sparkling eyes told you his answer.

You had to ask a priest where they had moved Inniros to. Surprisingly it was very close to your own apartments. The priest had said that Benerro felt better if Inniros was placed close to you so you could keep an eye on the darkin.

"Have you actually seen him use his shadows?" Your little brother asked excitedly. He was walking fast alongside you, finally forgetting about Selmy's departure.

It was a relief to see Tyrion's happy face once again. That intellectual brain of his craving for more information. You reposition the opal that you were holding in your arms. You just didn't feel right leaving it in your room. Something told you that you were not to leave it alone. "Yes. I actually fought him."

Pausing, Tyrion gazes up at you. He had seen Lightbringer at your side. "So you've learned how to sword fight too?"

On your walk you tell him of the Fiery Hands and the training they had put you and Jaime through. You showed him the long scar on your hand that was courtesy of Weles. It made your brother flinch but you assured him that it didn't hurt and that there were no hard feelings between you and the captain. Even going so far as telling Tyrion that if he so wished to continue his own training, that Weles could possibly help him.

Turning a corner into the corridor that was to lead to Inniros' room, you were met by a red priestess sitting outside his door with Vidarr and the towering Yophiel who stood rigid against the wall.

"Nuha kosh." Vidarr greets you and Yophiel pushes himself off the wall to properly face you. The quiet red priestess smiles gently and places her book on her chair. You couldn't quite remember her name, there had been a lot of priestesses that you had met during your time in the temple. When Vidarr spies Tyrion by your side, he offers him a patient smile. "Ah, you must be the young Lord Tyrion."

"Indeed. Tyrion, this is Vidarr and Yophiel. They are part of the Fiery Hand."

He had to crane his neck up in order to look at Yophiel's face. Tattoos weren't very common in Westeros. They're tattooed faces must have been jarring for him. He was polite and even greeted them in Valyrian, surprising all four of you.

Vidarr laughs. "He's much better than you were when you first came here!"

Blushing slightly, you can't help but feel a shy sort of pride. Yes, Tyrion had always been smarter and quick to understand things. Smiling as you turn to face the red priestess present, she bows to you. "Nuha kosh, are you here to visit the darkin?"

"Yes, if I may."

"You can do whatever you want." she replies smoothly and steps aside, motioning for the two other men to follow her movements. They look wary but say nothing as you knock and the door opens.

You're shocked when you see Inniros. His red dreadlocks were gone, his hair was trimmed close to his scalp so that you could now easily see his long, pale, face. There was no hiding his empty eye socket.

Beside you Tyrion scrunches his face and whispers to you "This is the darkin? He doesn't have any claws."

About to reply to him, Inniros interupts with a sudden sharp gasp. "That egg!"

"Egg?"

Inniros rushes you and Tyrion inside his room. It was much smaller by your's, probably no bigger than Rhiannon's. "My lady, where did you get that?"

You look down at the opal, confused as you tell him about the puzzle box that came from Thalina.

He shakes his head. "That is no opal."

"What is it then?"

Under his breath he whispers "It's a dragon egg, my lady."

Taglist:

@boywivlove

@esposadomd

@domoron

@yentroucnagol

@enchantingcupcakecollectionfan

@bregarc

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #from the ashes #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones reader insert #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf fic #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fandom #a song of ice and fire x you #a song of ice and fire x reader #a song of ice and fire fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfiction

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ashsostrange · 9 months

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exactly mfs have a futa fetish thats not trans representation

right!! 😭

nothing is wrong w hc ellie as trans, do what you wna do, but doing so just so you can write explicit content centered around her genitals is very weird, problematic if you will... if there was a balance between fluff ‘n smut, then that’d be different, but y’all haven’t seen any trans ellie fluff, have you? 🤥

#ash spills 💋#speaking from the heart #ellie williams x reader

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narumi-gens · 6 months

Text

From the Ashes | Part Two

Mei Mei x f!Reader

summary: Mei Mei arrives at your uncle's estate as a con woman. She leaves it as your savior.

warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, smut, angst with a happy ending, historical (1920s) au, gothic romance, total rip-off of park chan-wook's masterpiece the handmaiden, con woman!mei mei, sexually and emotionally repressed reader, mentioned physical and emotional abuse, reader has some faint scars, reader continues to seem like she's losing it at times, mentioned incest, mentioned torture, mentioned suicide, mentioned murder, reader has some form of suicidal ideation, fingering, oral (f receiving and giving, obvs), rimming, masturbation, squirting, outdoor sex, mild exhibitionism, sexual awakening

words: 6.3k

notes: mind the tags! things are getting darker here, but also hornier so it all evens out.

series masterlist

Your uncle informs Mei Mei that he’s been called away on business and will be gone for a week. From the expectant look in his eyes, she knows that her time is running out. She has seven days to convince you to run off with her before she needs to decide whether to cut her losses.

The morning he leaves, she plays the part of a besotted woman yearning for her partner’s return, wishing him well and for him to come home to her soon. But a few hours later, the pretense is done away with entirely as she corners you when you least expect it.

Her hand darts out into the hallway as you're passing by to grab your wrist and pull you into the empty sitting room where she’s been lying in wait. She’s just able to catch the startled look on your face as she shuts the door and presses you against it before her lips are on yours, cutting off any protest you might attempt to make.

There’s an instinctual impulse for you to fight her off, trying to shove at her shoulders and wriggle away from her, but it quickly fades away as you melt into her embrace and begin to cautiously kiss her back. It doesn’t take long until you’re eagerly accepting her advances with pitiful whimpers and soft moans that she greedily devours. Your gloved hands have stopped pushing her away and have dropped to cling tightly to the fabric of your dress.

For as shrewd as you are, there’s a clumsiness to the way your lips meet hers that betrays your inexperience and naivete and it only spurs Mei Mei on.

With one hand cupping your jaw, she slides her other down your body, making sure to caress every curve she comes across and relishing the sharp inhale you let out as she squeezes one of your tits over your clothes. When she reaches your thigh, she tugs on the long skirt of your dress and you quickly release the expensive material so that she can pull the hem high enough to slip her hand underneath it and between your legs.

Her skillful fingers are met with the finest silk money can buy only to find that it’s already soaked through from the little attention she’s shown you. You’re like a fully ripe peach that’s ready to be plucked from the branch and devoured.

As she plays with your pussy – stroking your slit over the drenched fabric of your underwear before pushing the material to the side to touch your heated folds directly, rolling your slippery clit, burying a single finger into your tight, tight cunt because that's all it can handle – she savors your moans, your blissed-out expression, and how your thighs are squeezing tight around her hand, not trying to stop her but trying to keep her there.

You’re seemingly unsure what to do with your hands otherwise and are too reserved to dare return her embrace, despite how she has a digit pumping in and out of your slick heat. Instead, your fingers scramble for purchase against the door at your sides through the haze of pleasure, the material of your gloves repeatedly slipping on the wood.

She’s unsurprised that it doesn’t take long before you’re cumming on her fingers with a sharp gasp and your head tossed back. With how inexperienced you are and how isolated you’ve been your whole life, she wonders if this is your first orgasm.

Wearing a dangerous smirk, Mei Mei finds herself thinking that she could easily grow addicted to giving them to you.

When she removes her hand from between your legs, you watch with lidded eyes and a heaving chest as she brings her dripping fingers to her plush lips and slowly licks each one clean. Just that small sample is delicious enough that she can’t wait to try you directly from the source.

She leans in to give you another slow, lingering kiss so that you can taste yourself on her tongue before she grabs onto your waist and gently slides you along the wall until you’re no longer blocking the door.

Her eyes twinkle when she releases you and sees how your legs tremble, knowing that it’s only the wall you’re leaning against that keeps you from collapsing in a heap at her feet. But she says nothing as she opens the door and leaves the room without sparing you another glance.

Dinner that evening is silent. You sit across from one another, neither of you saying a word as you eat. When you finish your meal, you stand up and bid her a polite goodnight – the only words you’ve spoken to her all evening.

Late that night, after she’s seen your handmaiden retire with the rest of the staff to the servant quarters near the Japanese wing of the estate where the guest quarters are located, she slinks under the cover of darkness through the Western side of the house and up its grand staircase to where she knows your bedroom sits.

The door is unlocked when she opens it to find you standing at the window and gazing out into the gardens. Based on your mussed hair and the rumpled sheets in your bed, you’ve spent the last few hours tossing and turning until you seemingly decided to give up on sleep altogether.

You don’t appear surprised to see her. As you watch her enter and close the door behind her, locking it for good measure, Mei Mei can feel how your gaze roves up and down her form, which is clad in only a beautiful silk robe that clings to every voluptuous curve. The only light in your room comes from the full moon hanging in the cloudless night sky, but it’s more than enough for her to see the longing in your eyes as she crosses the adjoining sitting area in your room to meet you at the window.

You’ve been hoping for this and it makes her smirk.

She slowly tugs the sash around your waist loose before pushing the soft material of your own robe from your shoulders to meet the belt at your feet, baring you fully to her. Bathed in the moonlight, your nipples hard under her stare, your teeth sinking nervously into your bottom lip, and your chest rising and falling rapidly with want, Mei Mei finds you more beautiful than the fortune that you’re sitting on.

She skims one lone fingertip across your collarbone and down to circle a pebbled nipple, avoiding touching the bud directly. There’s no need to rush after all. In the privacy of your bedroom, with the late hour and the household staff long asleep, there’s no need to rush.

She can take her time with you.

With a hand on your waist, your skin hot under her touch, she guides you to the bed, laying you out before her and then slipping her robe off to join yours on the floor, leaving her just as bare as you. She sees a flash of pink as your tongue darts out to briefly lick at your lips and from how entranced you seem by the generous curves of her tits, she doubts you’re even aware that you’ve done so.

She merely gives you an indulgent smile as she climbs onto the bed and kneels at your side. You instinctively raise a hand out to her before your senses seem to return to you and you quickly retract it, curling it into a fist and cradling it close to your chest. The motion is reminiscent of a child reaching out to grab what they want only to be harshly scolded.

But what catches her attention is how this is the first time she’s seen your hands completely bare. Without your gloves and with your hand in a fist, she’s able to see the faint lines scarred across the knuckles of your dominant hand.

They’re clearly years old by this point and only noticeable because Mei Mei notices everything. It’s obvious what they’re from though. Your hand bears the scars of a child who was repeatedly struck across the knuckles and she can only imagine how harsh each blow was to have left such a permanent reminder etched into your skin.

For as much as her curiosity has been piqued, she doesn’t linger on them. You hide them behind your gloves for a reason and she won’t make you doubt yourself when she already has you right where she wants you. But much like every other piece of information she learns about you, she tucks it away for later to be added to the puzzle.

Instead, she gently but firmly takes your curled first and brings it up to her chest, unfurling your fingers with her thumb and pressing your hand to her breast. You softly gasp as your palm makes contact with her smooth skin and she absently wonders when you last touched another person of your own free will, if ever.

Her hand guides yours to cup and squeeze her tit, encouraging you to take whatever it is you desire — especially when that thing is Mei Mei. Once she feels that you no longer need her wordless instruction, she leans down and finally presses her smiling lips to yours in a gentle, teasing kiss that you quickly return, eager for more.

Your tongue is warm and wet against hers as she guides you by example, enjoying the little whimpers that escape you. They only grow louder and more pitiful when she begins to move her mouth away from yours to capture a nipple between her lips, sucking and swirling her tongue around it before lavishing the other with the same treatment.

While Mei Mei’s hand still keeps one of yours to her breast, your other one has found its way into her long, silver strands, pressing her closer to your tits as your thighs rub together with need. When she starts to turn her attention away from your chest, you protest with a softly moaned, “Mei?”

Hearing her name on your pretty lips without an honorific attached to it sends a rush of wetness to her own cunt. She gently shushes you as she starts to leave a trail of kisses and licks down your torso, moving to lay between your legs. In a practiced movement, she tosses a thigh over each delicate shoulder and you gasp at the mere sensation of her breath against your dripping pussy.

She uses her thumbs to gently part your glistening folds and grins when she sees how needy you clearly are, your clit swollen and slick leaking from your twitching hole to make a mess of the sheets below your ass. She thinks she could continue to drink in the sight for hours, if not days. But she’s never been one to deny herself what she wants, so she doesn’t hesitate any longer before burying her face in your weeping cunt.

You writhe beneath her with every suck of your clit and flick of her tongue, moaning aloud into the darkness of your bedroom. She inserts one finger inside of you, meeting no resistance with how wet you are, and gives it a few pumps before coyly asking if you can take another. You nod without thinking. In this state, you would agree to anything — just as she planned.

A soft hiss escapes you from the sting as a second finger slides inside of you to join the first, unaccustomed to being stretched in such a manner. But whatever pain you’re feeling quickly morphs into pleasure as she massages your walls. It doesn’t take long before you’re meeting each thrust of her fingers.

When the pads of her fingers find a spongy spot inside of you, a hand darts down to the back of her head to keep her mouth right where it is. It’s a far cry from how you were too timid to touch her earlier in the sitting room. But just like that afternoon, you cum for her quickly, your head tossed back into your pillows, your back arched up from the mattress, your thighs clenched as close as they can be with her head between them, and your walls spasming around her fingers.

Her name leaves your lips like a hymn that consists of only one word sung over and over again to the gods, “Mei, Mei, Mei.”

It’s one that you sing all night as she makes you cum again and again and again with her pretty lips and talented tongue and deft fingers. And you receive everything she gives you without complaint or protest, hungry for every scrap of the pleasure that’s been so foreign to you up until 12 hours ago.

When she finally has to leave you in the early hours of the morning, you’re an exhausted mess. Your folds are swollen from overstimulation and every so often there’s a slight twitch in your muscles. She helps you dress in your discarded robe once more, guiding your limbs through the sleeves and tying the sash in a perfect bow before tucking you back into bed.

There’s an urge to crawl into the sheets beside you, but even an amateur con artist would know the danger of being caught in your bed by your handmaiden. So, she parts from you with a lingering kiss that wordlessly promises this is only the beginning.

With every step she takes back to her room, the wetness between her legs grows more and more uncomfortable. When she slides between the sheets of her own bed, she quickly slips her hand between her thighs and begins to play with her pussy until she cums on the same fingers that have spent the past few hours buried inside of you and with your taste still on her tongue.

Come morning, breakfast proceeds much in the same way that dinner did the night before – in silence and with a tepid acknowledgment of one another. But that afternoon after lunch, Mei Mei stops you before you can leave the dining room.

“Would you like to take me on a tour of the gardens?” she asks innocently and from the way you suddenly stiffen, she’s sure that the request alone is enough to make you wet if you weren’t already.

In the most secluded spot on the estate, hidden deep in the garden’s wooded area, there’s a small break in the trees that allows the sun to warm the patch of grass at the center. The house is a good twenty-minute walk from where you’ve secluded yourselves, which means there’s no need to worry that someone may stumble across you.

If they did, the scene would undoubtedly leave them shocked and scandalized. They would find an heiress on her knees, her cheek and chest pressed into the soft grass, bent over by the woman currently being wooed by her uncle.

Your skirt is pulled up around your waist to allow her full access from behind as she buries two fingers knuckle-deep inside of you and circles your slippery clit with her thumb. Her free hand is placed above your clothing on your lower back, pressing your spine into an arch that only enhances how deep she can reach with every thrust.

Your moans and cries of her name fill the clearing and if Mei Mei was feeling crueler, she would condescendingly tell you to hush. But for as cruel as she is, she doesn’t feel the need to be cruel with you. From the way your scarred knuckles shine under the bright sun as your bare fingers tug at the grass on either side of your head, your gloves discarded off to the side, she thinks you’ve already experienced more than your share.

She chooses instead to enjoy your lack of inhibitions, your sense of propriety tossed out the window. Whether it’s with her fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, or with her lips wrapped tight around your clit, or with her tongue slowly licking at the ring of muscle a little higher up, she revels in pulling orgasm after orgasm from you in the small clearing.

By the time the sun has started to sink deeper in the sky, you’re nothing but a heap on the grass as Mei Mei’s fingers and the lower half of her face are absolutely drenched with your slick. When you manage to roll onto your back, you give her an easy smile that looks so foreign on your face, but at the same time seems like the only thing that belongs there.

You press the back of your trembling hand to your sweaty forehead and softly laugh with a disbelieving shake of your head before beckoning her closer. She quickly complies, letting you wrap her in your arms and hold her close as she gives you a slow and languid kiss, liking the way your smiling lips feel against hers.

On the slow journey back to the large, looming house, you walk close to her, your shoulders touching and the backs of your fingers intimately brushing against hers. And even once you’re back inside the house’s cold and dark walls, there’s a lightness inside of you that she hasn’t seen before.

It carries you through another quiet dinner. It carries you as you bid her a polite but cool goodnight.

It carries you to straddle her lap where you ride her fingers while she worships your tits with her lips and tongue when she comes to visit you just as she had the night before.

And it carries you to you sit on her face, one knee on each side of her head as you let her hands on your ass guide you into grinding down on her mouth until you’re falling apart on her tongue for the umpteenth time in two days.

The next afternoon finds you both having tea in the same sitting room where she first cornered you, this time seated next to one another on the couch by the room’s large window that looks out into the gardens. And once again, her fingers are buried in your cunt as she watches on with hungry eyes.

Your hand is slapped over your mouth to keep you from crying out and catching the attention of any one of the servants who may be passing by in the hallway. The only sounds in the room are your panting and the slick sound of her fingers as they slide in and out of your needy pussy.

When she feels your walls beginning to spasm, she uses her free hand to guide your face into her neck so that you can softly moan her name against her skin as you fall apart.

There’s a vulnerability to the way you stay there after you cum, cuddled close even once she’s removed her fingers from you and your breathing has returned to normal. And something about it has her starting to consider you as part of the fortune she intends to steal.

That night when she visits you, it’s your turn to take her by surprise. Because when she crawls into your bed, you guide her with nervous hands into a position she never would have expected from you. Her face is buried in your cunt just like it has been for the last two nights, but your face is now also buried in hers as you both lay on your sides, giving and receiving at the same time.

Your inexperience shines through once again, but Mei Mei savors it, knowing that she’s your first in so many different ways. Even as she focuses on bringing you to your own peak, prioritizing your pleasure first, she lets you take your time exploring her pussy, suckling at her clit timidly in between lapping at her folds, even daring to go so far as to dip your tongue inside of her.

In the early hours of the morning, after she’s made you cum again and again, and after she’s given you your first in what she hopes will be many lessons in how to pleasure another woman, you both lay exhausted and sated as you face one another. You tiredly play with the ends of her long hair, a soft smile on your lips the entire time.

She can see a new sense of contentment in your eyes and she’s sure that she’s won you over.

“Run away with me and every night can be like this,” she murmurs, taking the hand toying with her strands and pressing a gentle, wet kiss to the tip of each finger. “I’ll look after you.”

The words are unexpectedly sincere, but as soon as they leave her lips, the wall that you’ve lowered over the past few days is suddenly back up at full height. Your gaze and expression are cold once more and you yank your hand from hers.

Without sparing her a second glance, you sit up and turn your back to her as you get out of bed, picking up your robe from the floor and sliding it back on, tying its belt with practiced movements. You then take the pair of gloves on your bedside table and walk to the window.

“You should leave. It’s inappropriate for you to be here,” you say and at that, Mei Mei can’t help but toss her head back and laugh wickedly.

“I think we crossed the line of what’s appropriate and what isn’t when you first came all over my fingers,” she counters with a smirk that goes unseen with your back to her.

As you continue to silently stare out into the gardens, it’s clear to Mei Mei that teasing won’t get her anywhere. She gets out of bed and puts her own robe back on.

“Your uncle returns in four days and I’ll need to disappear not long after,” she tells you as she ties her robe closed and moves toward you. Her tone is matter-of-fact as she tries to make you see reason. “What will you do then? You have no means to access your fortune without a marriage, which you say you’ll never have, meaning your greedy uncle will continue to siphon off as much as he can as your guardian.”

She comes to a stop next to you by the window, joining you in looking out through the glass and it isn’t the first time she’s taken note of how your room directly overlooks the sakura tree where your aunt’s body was found hanging — where you found your aunt’s body hanging. She can only imagine what growing up with a constant reminder of such a morbid discovery outside of your window every day of your life has done to you.

“Will you spend the rest of your days as a caged bird in this estate with only an old man and the rats in his pocket for company?” she asks and you finally meet her gaze through the reflection in the window.

“I have a plan,” you answer in an emotionless tone that she had almost forgotten over the last few days.

When she gives you an expectant look, wanting more information on this supposed plan, you offer nothing else. You simply turn away from her and walk back to your bed, where you grab the long, tasseled cord hanging from the ceiling that will summon your handmaiden from the servant’s quarters and begin to tug on it impatiently.

Mei Mei knows that it’s also her cue to disappear. The threat of being caught by a third party is the only thing that could get her out of your room at this point.

“This is the only plan that can set you free,” she reminds you just before she takes her leave. “Unless you plan to die here, having no one else on this earth. But what a shame that would be when you have someone offering you their hand.”

Later that morning as she makes her way to breakfast, she sees your handmaiden scurrying through the corridor and trying to stay out of her way. She doesn’t miss the red, finger-shaped marks on the woman’s wrist, which will bloom into deep bruises over the next days, or the fresh cut on her cheek.

Mei Mei would pity her for finding herself the outlet of your ire if she didn’t already know that the handmaiden reports back on your every move to your uncle, even going so far as to search through your belongings when she thinks that she’s alone and blind to the con woman’s ever watchful eye.

When Mei Mei suggests a walk through the gardens after lunch, you brush her off without a word. When she tries to visit your room that night, she finds the door locked.

The following day, the fifth day, she contemplates her next step as she drinks her tea alone. As she looks out the window at the pouring rain, she readies to resign herself to the fact that she may just have to consider this job a loss. A con artist needs to know when not to press their luck and she knows that without you on her side there’s not much that can be done.

You just don’t seem to trust her or her intentions, seeing her seduction of you as nothing more than an attempt to manipulate you to get at your money. And while she concedes that manipulation is her forté, her aims have grown beyond making off with your fortune, to also needing to make off with you. However, she’s at a loss for how to make you believe that she doesn’t plan to betray you.

She’s pulled from her thoughts when the door to the sitting room opens and she looks up to see you standing there silently in the doorway. You both look at one another and when Mei Mei sees the conflict raging in your eyes, she forgets all about calling off the job.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” you softly ask and Mei Mei raises a delicate eyebrow before glancing out the window at the sheets of rain that are coming down, leaving huge puddles on the grounds. But when she looks back at you and sees the unfamiliar tinge of desperation that’s crept into your expression, she easily agrees.

Despite being waterproofed, the bamboo and paper umbrella you sneak out does little to protect either of you from the strong winds that have the heavy rain falling at a slant and you’re soon both drenched from head to toe.

But you keep going, your arm tightly wrapped around hers to tug her alongside you deeper into the gardens. She knows the path that you’re walking, it’s the one that leads to the small clearing in the trees. As you trudge through the muddy path, leading her further and further, she finds herself surprised by your determination in the face of the elements.

Finally, once you’ve reached the clearing and seem to feel that you’ve put enough distance between yourselves and the house, you come to a stop and face her. Your shoulders are rising and falling rapidly from a mixture of exertion and what seems to be fear if the look in your eyes is anything to go by.

She doesn’t know what it is that could have you so terrified and it puts her on guard

The torrential rain is deafening and Mei Mei knows that you brought her here now because even if anyone was willing to brave the storm to follow you, they would never be able to hear you.

“Can I trust you?” you ask. It’s the first thing you’ve said since you both left the house and you have to raise your voice to be heard. The question is so blunt that it gives Mei Mei pause. “You make your living lying and cheating. You came here with a plot that ended in my disappearance and you in sole possession of my inheritance. Can I trust you?”

If anyone else were asking her that question, the answer would be a resounding no. If you were asking that question on the first day of her stay, it also would have been a no.

But as she’s used her fingers and her mouth to soften your hardened exterior and bring out an entirely different woman than the one she first met, her idea of what a successful job looks like has changed. It’s no longer about stealing only your money – she also needs to steal you.

Her answer comes in the form of a kiss so heated that it causes you to drop your useless umbrella into the puddle at your feet. She cradles your face in her hands as her lips move against yours hungrily, the rain pouring down on you both and washing away whatever remaining doubts you had.

When you break apart for air, she rests her forehead against yours and is taken aback when she sees how your eyes are brimming with tears, a few escaping to mix with the rain that’s drenching you.

“I have no one on this earth,” you plead helplessly, echoing her words from the other night, and she gives you a fierce look in return.

“You have me,” she swears, meaning every word with her black and crooked heart.

And then, with her hands still cupping your cheeks, her touch giving you the courage you need, the truth begins to spill from your lips.

You tell her about your sadistic uncle, about the terror he unleashed as you were growing up, about his house of horrors. You tug the glove from your dominant hand and present it to her to show how his cruelty has been scarred across your knuckles in neat lines.

Mei Mei takes your hand in hers and presses a gentle kiss to each knuckle. Unbeknownst to her, each touch of her lips feels like the tender care such wounds should have received all those years ago but that your uncle refused to allow.

As your fingers curl tightly in her hold, you tell her about how his cruelty has also left scars of a different kind on you all your life, about your aunt who tried to run away when you were young and she could no longer endure his torment, only to be caught, tortured, and killed. You tell her about the house’s dark basement where you were forced to watch as it all happened.

You tell her about how her body was hung from the sakura tree under the guise of a suicide and that you’ve been promised the same fate should you follow in her footsteps.

You confess how scared of him you are. You confess how disgusted by him you are. You confess that you think he’ll haunt you wherever you go, that even if you escaped with Mei Mei to the other side of the world, you would have to live your life looking over your shoulder for him, lest you find yourself in his basement once more.

Through your sobs, you reveal that he hopes to marry you so that he can keep you and your fortune under his thumb forever. Mei Mei’s sudden arrival is just another opportunity for him to grow his wealth before she becomes another loose end that needs to be cut.

With every truth revealed, the white-hot rage in Mei Mei grows until she’s ready to return to the house and destroy every brick and wooden board with her bare hands until not even the foundations are left. She wants to raze the house and the entire estate to the ground.

She wants to inflict the same suffering on your uncle that he’s inflicted on you. She wants to inflict more suffering on him than he’s inflicted on you.

But more than that, she wants to steal you away from the prison where you’ve spent your entire life. She wants to melt the ice trapping you and bring you out into the sunlight where you belong, far away from this house and the man inside of it that have both loomed so largely over you for your entire life like a dark cloud.

She wraps her arms around you and pulls you close. You eagerly return her embrace, burying your face into her neck and holding onto her tightly like she’s the lifeline that fate tossed you to pull you free from the inky depths of your misery and your uncle’s depravity.

“Do you trust me?” she asks, her voice barely loud enough in your ear to be heard over the clap of thunder that rings out from the sky.

There’s a long moment where you don’t do anything but hold her tighter. And then, very slowly, you nod.

“Please save me, Mei,” you softly beg through your tears, and as the rain falls in curtains on the two of you, Mei Mei swears to you that she will.

That night, Mei Mei worships you. She’s never been rough with you, even in the most heated of moments, but now she’s as soft as a woman like her knows how to be. She takes her time with every kiss, every stroke, every lick and suck. She makes sure to lavish every inch of your skin with attention, as if she’s trying to make up for the affection that’s been absent all through your life.

You beg her for more, for her to move faster, but she won’t have it. When she looks up at you from between your legs with adoring eyes, she maintains the same, languid pace, her free hand holding your scarred one in hers against your hip, your fingers intertwined tightly together.

And as you finally cum, the sound of her name leaving your lips in ecstasy and the feeling of your thighs clenched on either side of her head, the sudden gush of wetness that drips down her chin and soaks through the sheets to the mattress below is just an added bonus.

Your form trembles beneath her as she leaves a trail of wet kisses up your body until she can meet your lips. You wipe your thumb over her chin, which is shiny and drenched with your arousal, but she simply catches it between her lips and sucks the taste of you clean, not wanting a drop to go to waste.

A soft giggle escapes you at the way she teases you and you press your smiling lips to hers, the fingers not tangled with hers running through her long, silky locks.

Once you’ve both had your fill — not that Mei Mei truly thinks such a notion is possible where you’re concerned — you lay wrapped in each other’s arms, your sweaty curves pressed right up against hers, neither of you willing allow any space between.

Mei Mei dreads looking at the clock, wanting nothing more than to let you fall asleep in her arms where she can keep watch over you and protect you from whatever monsters lie in wait, but knowing that doing so will have to wait until she’s freed you from your cage.

“I want to show you something,” you murmur with a timid look in your eyes. You then sit up on your knees and reach over to your bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling a black-bound book from within.

She joins you in sitting up, her posture much more relaxed as she leans back against the headboard. You take a moment to look at the book’s blank cover before offering it up to her with two hands and your head bowed, and she raises a curious eyebrow when she recognizes it as your sketchbook.

When she takes it from you, she beckons you to join her at her side, but you shake your head and remain kneeling before her. Even fully nude and on a bed of rumpled and dirtied sheets, you manage to look like the lady you were raised to be as you sit in a perfect seiza, your palms on your thighs and your head tilted down.

She frowns at the apprehenshion she can see in your pin-straight posture. Whatever it is you’ve spent your days sketching is a secret that you’re afraid to reveal. When she opens the cover, she realizes why.

On the first page is a detailed sketch of a body hanging from a tree, the same sakura tree outside your window. She turns the page to find a similar drawing, only this one is much more focused on the expression of the woman hanging from the tree.

She flips to the next page and it’s the same again with only a few minor differences. As she continues to make her way through the sketchbook, the body in the drawings begins to change, morphing from a woman she doesn’t recognize — your aunt — to one that she does, intimately.

You.

“Was this your plan?” she asks quietly, her voice thin as she flips to another page where more of the same waits for her. The idea of you seeing no other way out from under your uncle’s thumb and succumbing to your despair stokes the raging fire she feels for the man.

When you don’t answer, she lifts her gaze to look at you. Your hands have clenched into anxious fists on your thighs and your shoulders are hunched up to your ears self-consciously. You take a shaky breath and nod before daring to look up at her.

The rawness in your expression reaches down to her core. Your eyes are wet and shining under the warm lamplight, but in them, she can also see a hint of hopefulness, a feeling she’s sure that you’ve never experienced before.

“Until a better one came along,” you whisper with a soft smile as a tear escapes your lashline and rolls down your cheek.

When Mei Mei looks back at the sketchbook, she finds that the rest of its pages are filled with portrait after portrait of herself.

#new banner for each part!#tbh I wanted to include a scissoring scene like in the handmaiden but didn’t feel like writing another 500 words #so just imagine that they did #tw physical abuse #tw emotional abuse #tw suicide #tw incest #mei mei x reader #mei mei smut #mei mei angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #from the ashes #mel writes

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loopystar · 4 months

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Leo was okay.

Sure, he was having nightmares every day, and he had been avoiding his brothers like the plague, especially a certain purple individual, but hey, at least he was finally stepping up as a leader, right?

Okay, maybe he wasn’t doing amazing, but it's not like it was anyone's business.

or:

After the Kraang invasion and another mission fails because of Leo, he finds himself wishing for things to be as simple as they once had been. But sometimes our wishes are granted in the most unexpected ways, only to come back and bite us in the ass.

Heeeeyyy

Soooo i just got a new Ao3 account therefore am finally able to publish the first chapter for the Leocentric fic, i have some chapter already written BUT i seriously would like to have someone beta read them before publishing them.

Hope you enjoy!!

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt ao3 #save rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt #rottmnt fic #ao3 fanfic #i had fun doing this #hope you like it #leo didn’t #beta reader #From Fireplace Ashes #FFA

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ghost-proofbaby · 5 months

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I'm gonna cheat because I don't listen to TS but you know how much I love our pair from Maroon. can you tell us which of her newest songs you most associate with them right now. any tidbits you feel like sharing

^ it's me pleading for special treatment because I love you

abi babe i will always give you infinite special treatment always. however i apologize for how long this is because, uh, this is the couple who i specifically think dominates my brain while listening to TTPD.

i've already covered "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart", so that one 100%.

besides that, though...

Down Bad. the entire premise of the song being compared to being abducted by aliens and when you're returned to earth being like "actually i liked it better up there take me back" as a metaphor for love feels very much like when you had a good relationship, something you expected to last forever, and it just gets taken from you. however, to spice things up - i think it works better applied to how eddie feels. the whole 'fuck it if i can't have him' is exactly how he feels as he's completely destroying himself in the aftermath. and just for fun, so you don't necessarily have to listen to the songs if you don't feel like it my love, i'm adding the specific lines from each song that i feel apply the most.

"how dare you think it's romantic, to leave me safe and stranded? 'cause fuck it, i was in love. so fuck you, if i can't have us."

^ it applies to both reader/sugar and eddie. first half feels very her, because he left her behind to not risk exposing her to a life that had begun to decay him. but second half feels very him cause... fuck it, ya know?

So Long, London. this one is about just being sad and mad about the end of a relationship, and that's where both eddie and sugar still are mentally. to build something so sacred up only to watch it be burned down by the other person. sugar is far angrier than eddie, though, since she's not really taken the time to work through how she feels with the end of it all.

"i didn't opt in to be your odd man out. i founded the club she's heard great things about. i left all i knew, you left me at the house by the heath. i stopped cpr - after all, it's no use."

also.... honorable mentions to the entire goddamn bridge, but specifically "you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?" and "i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place for so long"

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can). it's a bit of a spoiler, and a bit of a reach, but i think it's a good perspective from the others looking in. the media, but also specifically corroded coffin. this really only applies to post break-up them story-wise, too. he's wrecked himself, destroyed all that he was, and sugar is the only one seeming capable of bringing him back to what he once was.

"i can fix him - no, really, i can. and only i can."

loml. i guess what i'm saying is basically every single song where taylor got very vulnerable and terribly sad about the end of an important/long relationship. this one speaks for itself quite a bit because of the theme of the guy saying "you're the love of my life" repeatedly, only to leave. which is exactly what eddie did, in the grand scheme of things. and taking it a step further? the small implications of a breakup and attempt at rekindling? yeah, yeah that's them alright, your honor.

"who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames, if we know the steps anyway?"

^ literally what they are doing as we speak ^

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived. this one i would mostly apply to all of sugar/reader's anger pre-reunion. that anger of a man who simply ghosts you. she didn't let herself feel the 'breakup' much, but she did go through some of the stages of grief - and she got stuck at anger.

"you kicked out stage lights, but you're still performing. and in plain sight, you hid. but you are what you did."

^ all his self-destruction when she sees it at surface level :) just seeing him as doing nothing more than throwing a tantrum :)

this is getting a bit out of hand now, but when it comes to the double album bit, there's even more. i don't want to bore you to death so i'm just going to list those songs but. yeah. this album felt very maroon coded to me. the losing and the anger and the sadness and the clinging to what once was. should've expected it, in all fairness.

from THE ANTHOLOGY, i'd say that 'the black dog', 'chloe or sam or sophia or marcus', 'how did it end?', 'i look in people's windows', 'the prophecy', 'peter', and 'the manuscript' are the ones that fit best for maroon. some are a stretch, some it's solely based off of one line that i couldn't get over, and some i just simply think it's the vibes. a true matter of the illness that is "they're my blurbos so i'll apply whatever song i want to them".

i'm sure we'll see a few of these as chapter titles going forward, including the anthology ones, so that'll probably be when i dig in a little deeper about specific lyrics. or when i post ominous music posts.

anyways if you made it to the end (especially you abi) i love you so fucking much and thank you for enjoying my absolutely insane ted talk i just basically did on how TTPD is very very sugar x eddie coded <3

#dear god i should've just linked the entire album huh?#TTPD (ghost's version)#abi will always get special treatment when it comes to maroon #if i'm writing maroon for only one person it's abi (and ash)#they actually own the rights to this fic at this point not me #thank u ily <3 #abi <3 #can i just say the fact that you aren't a swiftie but love this fic is so insane but also so beautiful to me ily so fucking much #just wait till you see what i'm doing to the next chapter because it's changing entirely from the snippets i've given actually #we're slowing down the burn a little bit solely because i reevaluated how i characterize this eddie and reader in my mind

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ominous-feychild · 2 months

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i don't know how to word this, so i'm just gonna say

sammy. breaking the rules. <- that stuff. please elaborate if there is any coherence in this request

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY SENT AN ASK!!! (people actually do that for non-ask posts???)

Okay, to be completely honest, I think we had a misunderstanding! (I was exhausted when typing that up and was just about to sleep--) I meant that you could/should ask about Sammy, but I wouldn't answer about his magic... but I've done some thinking.

I'll tell you a bit about his magic. 👀

Fair warning: long post!!!

The Way Magic Works™

So, magic. I'll definitely give a much more in-depth explanation one day--I know @honeybewrites REALLY wants one 😂--but I need to give a bit of an explanation here for you to be able to understand why Sammy is Special™.

In my writing, there's technically four different kinds of magic. I describe them as such:

Existential (all-encompassing and literal)

Axiomatic (abstract and "type-casted")

Faerie (abstract and encompassing)

Runic (wizards hurrr durrr)

Each "kind" of magic is named, appropriately, by its source--Existential magic comes from the Existential gods, Axiomatic magic comes from axiom, Faerie magic (or "pure" magic) comes from the Faewildes and is typically associated with faeries, and runic magic originated from the runes non-magical people used in an attempt to match the power of the others.

(I mean, technically runic magic itself is a combination of axiomatic and faerie magic, but--)

Essence Is Equivalent

The one thing all kinds of magic have in common is their shared resource--essence. No matter what kind of magic you use, you're always using up essence in order to do it. The same magical tasks always cost the same amount of essence, meaning the only way to "advance" in magic-casting is to grow your mana pool.

Except for runic magic, but we'll get into that later--

(I hop between using "essence" and "mana" for this explanation, but in-universe it's always called "essence". As a fan of DnD and fantasy games, sometimes using the word "mana" makes more sense to me, haha. Idk if that understanding applies to everyone, but. Essence is essentially just "magical energy".)

Long story short--let's say we have four different people, each with their magic coming from one of each of the different sources. Except, they all have Water magic.

Existential user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x amount of essence

Axiomatic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

Faerie/Pure user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes .5x essence

Wait, what? Okay, let's try that again--

A different Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes 1.7x essence

A third Runic user lifts 1 gram of water. It takes x essence

What??? What's the deal with that???

Well, this isn't the time to explain Runic magic in-depth, but long story short? Let's just say it's because they're not doing magic "normally". The other kinds of magic users will always use the same amount of essence, so we'll just stop including the variety for now. Just know it'll be the same amount by default. Except... you won't often run into "default" with runic users. Regardless!

Existential user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

Axiomatic user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

Faerie/Pure user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 1000x essence

The first Runic user lifts 1 kg of water. It takes 500x essence

As you can see, it's all equivalent. Both across "types" of magic and in effort-to-gain ratio. So none of them have any sort of advantage!... except literally all of them do.

Similarly, since they're all drawing from essence as their source, there's no "backup" magic system one can use if they run out. If they're out of essence, they're out--nothing they can do.

Actually, wait. I lied. (aka Essence Banks)

There's a way to store essence for later use--essence banks! Basically, they're just magical items infused with essence. They can be literally everything. Except, they aren't everything.

Confused?

Essence Banks were a runic invention and have to be engraved with appropriate runes to be able to contain essence. Some have actually been commodified and turned into "temporary conduits" (aka, items that allow a non-magic user to wield magic like a mage) through people infusing them with their essence.

This is a case where "pure" magic technically separates from a faerie's magic. Pure magic can be used for literally anything, but faeries... well, it's complicated. Regardless, pure magic originates from the Faewildes, but is different from a faerie's magic.

Pure essence can be used for anything, but an individual's essence can only be used for their respective magic type. (Like, elemental / conceptual, not Existential / Axiomatic and such. That explanation's for another day, though.) Pure magic can only be gotten from the Faewildes through the use of runic magic.

People have turned essence banks into commodities by giving them to others who don't have their magic and allowing them to use it. However, as you can probably imagine, essence banks and conduits of both kinds (permanent and temporary) are expennnnnsive!!! Most who have them use them for themselves, to store their own essence to use later.

Just know--there is no way to just "create" essence! It all comes from SOMEWHERE! The most common places are from one's self or from the Faewildes.

Essence Banks Do Not Cross "Types" Of Magic

If someone with fire magic got their hands on an essence bank with essence from someone with water magic in it, they wouldn't be able to utilize it for fire magic--only water magic.

Except... not really.

The fire user could use the essence, it would just cost a lot more of the water essence to instead use fire magic.

Why does this sound familiar...?

Hm. Anyway!

I bet you've been wondering--how does any of this relate to Sammy?

Sammy Breaks The Rules of Magic™

So, now that you have an understanding of how magic works in my stories, you can better appreciate Sammy.

Remember what I just said?

Y'know, about how magic all always costs the same amount of essence, how "types" of essence don't translate well to others, and how essence can't just be created?

Well, Sammy heard that, laughed, and said "I'm built different."

"Amplification" doesn't exist in the world of my stories. There's simply no concept of it because of how inherent the idea of "essence is always equivalent" is to magic.

Except... Sammy is an amplifier.

So what does that mean in the universe of my stories?

He's able to make others' magic use less essence. He's able to enhance their abilities, let them do things they couldn't otherwise do. And it doesn't matter what kind of magic either of them have.

Oh! And since he's the amplifier?

His other magic is also always amplified.

Yeah, long story short? He's OP af. Both as an individual, and as a support character.

CONCLUSION!

I actually can't say any more about amplifying because, omfg, it's actually such a spoiler! As I said to you (almost) yesterday, I plan out the series I write to build up to things I'm going to eventually write! Amplifiers are suuuuper important for a number of reasons and, as I said, they basically don't exist! There's only two others wandering about at the time of Rising From the Ashes (the story Sammy's in)! And one of them is a complete hermit who 99.99% of people have no idea exists!

The other... well. He's actually an avatar. An agent of one of the gods. Who knows if/when he'll ever show up? 👀

If you're curious, the (albeit vague) Overarching Goals™ of the series are as follows:

The Arcane Rifts: explores the Faewildes and some of how they've impacted the world. Specifically explores in-universe political relations of Jhandar and Glavnran; the Existential War; the Existence of Magic; and how the Existential gods mess with the world. Oh... and is Gene's origin story. 😉😘

Sun and Shadow: strongly explores the Faewildes' impact on "the Real World" through their patchworking Lynsmouth into the city it is today. Hints towards plots in RFtA and tCC. Explores faeries themselves through the Major Faerie Characters and the highlights the role of magic in society. Is intended to be an introduction into my weird worldbuilding tbh, haha. Hints at Existential War and is also where a HUGE worldwide-plot event occurs. Thanks, Quinn! 😈

Rising From the Ashes: explores in-universe political relations, more directly builds on the worldbuilding through the character of Kieran Caron and his school, does some more planting in info about the Existential War, and showcases people in-universe trying to experiment with magic and expand on its capabilities.

The Calamity Crew (name to change): lots of worldbuilding through the literal crew of a merchant ship sailing across the world; builds up in-universe local Axiomatic gods; showcases the literal birth of a lesser god and explores the powers and abilities of gods; showcases people in-universe trying to experiment with magic and expand on its capabilities.

I plan to somehow make stories on the Existential gods' avatars, but don't know how I'll go about that, haha. Also intend to probably make some stories REALLY early in the in-universe timeline completely taking place within the Faewildes. Might merge those ideas together, idk.

If you can't tell, the Existential gods are super important to the overarching story I plan on writing, haha. Part of how I'm planning to build them out is through the very fact that they appear everywhere.

Yknow--because they are!

They're the puppeteers manipulating the entire world in their little game. Their Existential War.

To anyone who read through this all--congrats and omfg, thank you so much???

I know this is a lot and not all of it is exactly easy to understand, haha. I wanted to create a magic system that felt magical, but also was planted in "real" stuff like conservation of matter, haha. I want there to be, like, a limit to it, but also for things to have those good 'ole fashioned "fairy tale"/"gods rule over us all" vibes. Hopefully I've done a good job!

Tysm again and feel free to reblog and share!

Tagging list: @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star @aalinaaaaaa

@paeliae-occasionally ; to anyone else, ask and ye shall be added!

Divider from @cafekitsune

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