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sanguineterrain · 9 months ago

Note

for the dc prompts you reblogged:

can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks

where reader is also a vigilante??

thank you so much 🩷

very sexy prompts thank u 😌

jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!

all fics at @sanguinelibrary

****

"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"

You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.

You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.

"What... do you mean?" you ask.

"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"

"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.

Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."

Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.

Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.

In short, he's perplexing as hell.

Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.

Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.

"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."

Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."

He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.

"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.

"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."

And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.

Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.

You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.

"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.

You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."

"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."

"Are you lecturing me?"

"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."

"Sounds personal."

Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."

You strike.

Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.

You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.

"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."

You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.

"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.

Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."

"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.

"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."

On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.

"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.

You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.

Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.

But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.

Which is terrifying.

"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.

"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."

Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.

He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.

"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"

"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."

You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"

"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."

"Screw you."

He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."

Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.

For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...

"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"

"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"

The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.

"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."

Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.

"Where's your distress signal?"

"Why would I tell—"

Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.

"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."

You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"

"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."

You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."

Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"

"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."

"As you wish. Distress signal?"

"Collar."

Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.

"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"

"In your dreams."

Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.

"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."

You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."

"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"

"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"

Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.

"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."

He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.

(pt 2)

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fanfiction #jason todd imagine #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #jason todd #dc #inbox #blurb

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aesthetically-dying101 · 18 days ago

Text

Law of Attraction. (part 1)

A/N: this is part 1 of a series (gonna be three or four i believe), inspired by irl events.

Other parts: Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ; Part 6.

SO, couple things to know: r. is in her second year of psychology, Nanami is in his third year of law. R is definitely very anxious, not used to being out of her element.

Warnings for this chapter: Angst, reader can be seen as annoying and a bit pathetic, frustrating all around.

Do not copy nor translate my work.

You slip into the classroom, late as usual-to be fair, your eyeliner wasn't cooperating this morning, and then the bus to campus was late, so a 6 minute tardy wasn't the end of the world in your book.

The door creaks as it closes behind you, and all eyes turn.

Great.

Just what you needed on the first day of class- you almost want to shrink away and sprint out of there.

The professor, a middle-aged man in a stuffy suit, squints at you over his glasses. He's got that "I-know-you're-not-supposed-to-be-here" vibe. You can almost see the judgement radiating off him.

"Uh, excuse me," he says, pausing the lecture. "Are you... in the right room?"

"Uh, I'm not lost, I'm just late," you say, forcing a smile-whyyyy must he speak to you. "And I'm definitely in the right class. I checked the schedule, like, five times- apologies for my tardiness."

You made a beeline for the empty seat at the back. Your boots make a soft clomp on the polished floor, your bracelets clinking together. He still watches you like you might steal something—maybe the textbook on the desk, or the air in the room.

You're just here because it's a graduation requirement.

A requirement you absolutely cannot avoid. Because of course, your major in psychology doesn't cover "basic law" in the slightest.

Perfect. Just the vibe you need to kick off a semester of law school with zero chill.

"As I was saying," he drones, clearly trying to regain control after the tiny disruption you caused, "the fundamentals of law—"

*-*

A little while later it's finally break time- coffee time- cigarette time- whatever you want to call it. Anyways you finally get to breath fresh air after an hour in that room.

You could really use something to wake you up, but you're pretty sure that if you drink one more coffee today, your heart might start skipping beats in protest.

Still, it's a necessary evil.

You stepped out after the rest of the students, and ironically, followed them to the coffee machine. As you waited in the small line that had formed, a girl and her friends-your classmates- turned to look at you.

"So.. how many of those d'you have?" She asked as she gestured to your face- you had snakebites, eyebrow piercings, tongue piercing... ect.

"Huh?" You glance down at yourself, trying to pretend you didn't know exactly what she meant. "Oh... like, twenty-five? Overall."

She opens her mouth again, clearly working through some internal monologue. "That's... a lot."

You smile, your smiley piercing peeking and catching the light a bit, you can tell she zeroed in on it. You decided to be nice today-good impressions to make- and its not like your anxiety was through the roof just because she was talking to you. Nahhh, not at all.

"Yeah, it's not for everyone, but I like it." You shrugged.

"It's just, well, kind of intense." She said. Her friends share amused glances. You know its at your expense. Of course.

"Intensity's good," you replied. "Keeps life interesting."

You finally reach the machine, ready to make your decision—coffee or death by caffeine overdose. The coffee's already in your hand, steam rising from it like a beacon of your need to function today. You act as if it doesn't bother you that these people look at you like a freak.

It was easier anyways, to act as if it didn't matter, that their looks and comments didn't matter.

They did.

But you could never allow them to know.

*-*

It's two days later when you get the email: "Group assignment – Nanami Kento and Y/N, please meet to discuss your project."

Fun.

A couple minutes later your phone buzzed- an unknown number:

-Hello Y/N, I saw the email. Shall we meet tomorrow to discuss the project?-

You can almost hear the smugness in the message. So you replied back quickly, your fingers tapping out the message.

-im free after 3 pm tomorrow. Lmk if that works for you-

Almost imidietly, your phone buzes again:

-3 pm works. See you tomorrow.-

Just cold, efficient, business-like. You feel a knot in your stomach, you're not always a fan of social interactions, especially with people you didn't know.

It made you nervous.

*-*

The next day, you were sitting in the not so comfy chairs right outside the library, in the hall. Your Marshall headphones absolutely blasting some metal- Silvera by Gojira- because of course. You were waiting for Nanami, your leg jumping up and down, the chain on your pants jingling ever so slightly. And you were toying with your tongue piercing, which you probably shouldn't be doing in public, but it's a nervous habit at this point.

You've got a few minutes before Nanami shows up for the first official group meeting, and you're already wishing you could just skip the whole thing.

The music helps.

Sort of.

Just make it through this, and it'll be over before you know it, you tell yourself. Just try to be normal. Don't screw this up.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You hate these awkward situations. It's like your brain goes into overdrive the moment you're forced into a new dynamic.

The minutes crawl by. You check the time. He's late. By three minutes? You tap your foot faster, frustrated.

Finally, Nanami strolls into view. Of course he looks like he's just stepped out of some glossy magazine, perfectly composed, hair looking like it belongs on the cover of Vogue- you wonder how sharp his damn jawline is. He doesn't even rush to get to you. He walks calmly, his steps measured like he's not even in a hurry.

"Sorry I'm late," he said.

"No worries." You pause your music, turning off the headphones as you put them in your book bag.

You grab your bag, and the two of you stroll into the library, and sit at a table near one of the large windows. The sunlight streams in, making you squint just a little.

"Okay," you say, forcing yourself to speak first. "So... what do we need to do for this project?"

You're not the best at these things—social interactions with new people tend to make you feel like you're doing everything wrong, like every word that leaves your mouth could be the wrong one.

He doesn't respond imidietely, he flips open his notebook with that same deliberate calm. It's like he's prepared for everything already, and you're just the last-minute addition. You're not used to working with people who act like they already have it all together. It makes you feel... out of place.

Your eyes flicker from his notebook, his hand, to his face.

"I've already got some notes down," he says, finally breaking the silence, his voice smooth and even. "I think we should focus on how law impacts psychological theories—specifically criminal psychology."

"Right," you reply,trying not to sound too weird. "Sounds... good. I mean, I know some stuff about criminal psychology."

You both look down at your notes. A weird silence settles for a second..

"Okay, so we'll split the work then," he says finally, without even asking what you think. "I'll handle the legal side. You can focus on the psychological theories."

You clear your throat.

"Sure. Sounds like a plan."

*-*

The first few weeks were rocky as hell.

On the outside, you're organized. You've got all your notes neatly compiled, timelines marked down in your planner like some kind of model student.Notes neatly compiled? Check. Timelines drawn out in your planner with color-coded pens? Check. A folder labeled in precise Sharpie handwriting—Nanami Kento because, apparently, you were feeling extra that day? Check.

You're efficient. You're capable.

But beneath that layer of outward control, you're a mess.

Your brain didn't stop. Ever.

Every time you sit down to work, you feel the weight of it all—the pressure to do things right, to not mess up, to make a good impression. You can't help it; you always feel like you're walking a tightrope.

A walking bundle of stress.

But still, you power through it. You're smart enough to know what you're doing. You get the work done. You turn in your sections on time, all carefully researched and well-written. It's just the part where you have to interact that's the problem.

Nanami. Quiet. Distant.

Annoyingly perfect Nanami, who never said anything more than he absolutely had to.

One day, you decide to push past the anxiety and just talk. Just talk. It's so easy in your head. You'll just ask him something random, maybe about the topic, maybe something more personal. Anything to get him to engage. You approach him after class, nerves humming in your chest.

"Hey, Nanami," you say, trying for casual. "I was thinking we could—uh, maybe—grab coffee and brainstorm? You know, to get ahead on the project?"

You'd rehearsed it in your head a dozen times. This wasn't supposed to feel like walking into an active volcano.

"I'm fine with just working through the notes," he responds, voice flat and detached.

Oh. Okay. Cool. Sure. Great.

You nod stiffly, smiling like it's not eating you up inside.

"Right. No problem."

You weren't exactly a loner. That wasn't the problem. The problem was that you were stuck in this godforsaken law class for six months. Six. Whole. Months. And all your friends? They'd already knocked this requirement out of the way semesters ago. You were the last one, the straggler, the odd one out.

The law faculty was 24 minutes away from the Psychology and Health building. You'd timed it. Twice. It meant you couldn't pop over to see your friends between classes, and they couldn't come to you. Even during breaks, you were stuck wandering the halls like some kind of ghost.

So, yeah. You were alone. Completely, totally, painfully alone.

*-*

You tried.

You really did.

For weeks, you made a conscious effort to bridge the gaping chasm between you and Nanami. You complimented his organization skills, because seriously, the man's planner was like something out of a productivity cult's fever dream: color-coded tabs, clean handwriting, even sticky notes aligned with ruler-like precision.

"Your notes are impressive," you said once, hoping it sounded casual and not desperate. "Like, borderline superhuman. Mine look like a crime scene in comparison."

He'd glanced at you, his expression unreadable, and replied with a flat, "Thank you."

That was it. No follow-up. No "oh, let me see yours" or even the faintest flicker of interest.

Just. Thank you.

So you tried a different approach. One day after class, you threw out an idea:

"Hey, I was thinking—we could study together sometime? Maybe go over the readings or brainstorm ideas. I mean, two heads are better than one, right?"

He adjusted his bag strap and responded in his usual, maddeningly polite tone. "I think it's more efficient if we continue working independently."

Efficient. He'd said it like you were a factory line. Not like two human beings trapped in the same unfortunate group project.

You plastered on a tight smile. "Right. Efficient. Got it."

So that was it. From then on you kept things strictly professional.

Or tried to anyways.

*-*

And it got worse the third week of class.

Not Nanami specifically, but the others. You thought you'd been keeping a low profile—sitting at the back of the lecture hall, barely making a sound, trying to just coast through it. But even in the back, you still managed to stand out. You couldn't help it. The piercings, the eyeliner, the mismatched layers— only for them to all stop and stare at the girl in the corner with the combat boots and chaotic hair.

They weren't the kindest, not to you anyways.

You kept to yourself, staying in the back of the lecture hall, even though you still stood painfully out.

You weren't stupid. You saw it. You felt it. You just... couldn't do anything about it.

And then it happened.

"Can you imagine having to work with her?"

That voice. One of the guys from the row in front of you. The one with the crisp suit and the perfectly combed hair. "Poor Nanami. That's gotta suck, huh?"

You froze. Nanami. The name hung in the air like an accusation.

"She's a freak. I mean, have you seen her?" Another voice. This one higher-pitched, feminine. She had that smug tone. The one that made your skin crawl. "You'd think someone would tell her to tone it down before she completely ruins her reputation here."

The words hit harder than you'd expected. They weren't even directed at you. They were about you.

"Yeah, Nanami's probably just trying to get through it. That project's already doomed."

"Poor guy. He's too nice to just flat-out say it, but I bet he's wishing he got paired with anyone else."

You couldn't breathe for a second. You wanted to shrink into your seat and disappear. A freak? Ruining his reputation?

Your stomach churned. This wasn't just judgment. It was pity. Pity that tasted worse than anything else. You weren't a freak, you were just... a bit different. And anyways, you fit in perfectly with your crowd, these people weren't said crowd. You weren't doing anything wrong. You were just trying to survive this godforsaken class.

But in their eyes? No. You were an obstacle to their perfect little law world.

You bit down on your lip, hard enough to taste blood. Don't cry. Don't give them the satisfaction. Don't show weakness.

You could still hear the murmur of their conversation in the background, distant but sharp.

"I don't know how he puts up with her," the guy said again.

Your hands were shaking. You couldn't even look up.

The professor's voice rang out then, snapping you back into the present.

"Alright, everyone, back to the material."

You just wanted to go home.

A/n: the reason that this is "short" is that i got a ... rud-ish anon ask telling me that my posts were too long so.. i hope this is better haha. Part two will be posted within the hour i think (and linked on this post)

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk #jjk angst #jjk x reader #nanami x you #ao3fic #aesthetically dying101 #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #this is a series #x reader

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khunyuki · 6 months ago

Text

"I am not going to fall in love, Yuu. Not until we find a way home"

Sypnosis: You made up your mind not to fall in love the moment you arrived at Twisted Wonderland with your bestfriend, Yuu. With plenty of responsibilities on your shoulders in both worlds, do you even have time for romance? At least that's what you thought... Until a certain someone's actions caught your gaze.

Oneshot Pairing/s: Idia Shroud x reader

Note/s: My no. 1 fav Idia <3 I love youuuu

Masterlist: TOC

As a magicless student at an all-boy's school like Night Raven College, there are a lot of things you can't do nor can't relate to. The very fundamental thing in this world is magic and that's something you don't have. Being unable to use magic in a magic school has more cons than pros but can you complain? No cuz being in NRC is the only way to keep you, your bestfriend and monster cat safe. That's why it comes as a surprise to you when you found out that there are a lot of people who can't use magic themselves. It's part of the norm so you feel at ease and confident enough to face challenges you normally don't encounter. Magic isn't everything as humans can always adapt to whatever situation they face.

Be it in Twisted Wonderland or your world, there's something that will never change. The inventions created, interests shared, hobbies formed, and many more. It may deviate from your own world but it is essentially still the same. While you can't relate to using magic in your everyday lives, can't properly attend classes like flight, nor can you use it to protect yourself and your friends, there's still something you know you can relate to.

*ping**ping**ping*

Your phone chimed repeatedly as someone seems to have barraged you with text messages. You turned it on to see the person you have plans with that day, your senpai, Idia Shroud.

Gloomurai: Y/N-ssi, raid starts in 10. wer r u?

Gloomurai: come over already

Gloomurai: hurry up

Gloomurai: gonna to start w/o u if ur 2 slow

You looked at the time on your phone, 4:51pm. One minute has already passed so you gotta run. You have plans to play that popular MMORPG at his room where you can use his spare computer.

Nickname: okiokii

Nickname: running as fast as I can

You typed as you literally ran as fast as you can from your initial location at the courtyard to the hall of mirrors so you could get access to Ignihyde. You take twists and turn without getting lost as you always go there to hang out. Once you arrived, you entered without knocking as you know you're the only one he's expecting aside from Ortho.

"Hey, Idia! I arrived in...7 minutes. Wow that's a record"

You cheered as you weren't late yet panted from the sprint. You greeted the owner of the room who was sitting in front of his own pc. There you could see his bright blue hair burning eternally so clearly in the darkness of his room. He turned to face you and pointed at the desktop beside him.

"I already booted the game in your pc"

"Really? Thank you~"

You sat beside him and true to his words, your game is indeed open. Your character can be seen standing besides his inside the screen.

"No prob"

He pulled the strings of his hood as he tried to hide his face from you. While he can hide the blush on his face, he cannot hide the pink tinting his hair. As you started the raid, you couldn't help but think.

Should you try to get to learn Idia more deeply?

Introducing Idia Shroud

Idia Shroud is the introverted housewarden of Ignihyde. After arriving in Twisted Wonderland, you immediately searched for animes, mangas, and games unique to that world. Due to your immense love, you decided to approach him out of your own volition with the help of his little brother, Ortho. He thought you were one of the normies pretending to like anime but you soon became close friends when you expressed everything you know with the same excitement real otakus have.

Your Relationship

Your first IRL interaction is at the board game club. It was awkward for him but you didn't care because he was entertaining you back. You soon became inseparable as you two are often in your own world. He even went as far as to set up an old spare pc so you could play together at the comfort of his room. When it comes to your interests, it was only you two who got along so it wasn't a question how fast you became the bestest of friends.

Observations

It's probably a month after you arrived at NRC when you met. You just finished adjusting to your now life, hastening the process by encountering your very first overblot. You noticed him as soon as you found out about him that you didn't care about what he thinks of you.

Listed below are things you find interesting about him:

Idia has a unique personality

Idia has been frowned upon by people due to his interests in anime and have developed a sharp tongue in his own defense. You could definitely empathize with him regarding that as back in your world, you have also faced challenges due to your interests. You chose to keep it to yourself at the start but have learned that you shouldn't let other people's words bother you. That's why you could understand his defensiveness when you tried to get close to him at first.

He's always so confident behind the protection of his floating tablet or the screen. He would say sassy remarks, insults or whatever is on his mind but when you meet face to face he couldn't even speak a word. You knew he was suspicious of you for trying to get close to him but your relentless pursuit made him crack. He'd berate you for the wrong information you share and correct it. He'd either be rapping his words or muting it so low on he can hear it.

As time passes by, no longer would he say such mean words to you. He's always excited to hear the continuation of the animes you've watched from your world. He would even unleash his keyboard warrior when someone tries to berate you. To others, he may seem weird or creepy but he's actually really kind once you get to know him.

Most of the time, he's pessimistic about himself so you would always tell him otherwise. Even if what he says are true, you still like him and want to be his friend. You'd do your best to comfort him by being by his side and not judging him. Idia isn't a people person nor does he know how to comfort others but if you're not feeling well, he'd try his hardest to make you feel better in the way you can. Like when he offered you to play games with him to release all your stress or simply watch your favorite series together. He won't ask you what's wrong and you appreciate it as he gives you the space you need.

Idia gets flustered really easily

Idia doesn't believe in the compliments you throw his way but when he does, he'd be a blushing mess. As his friend, you didn't like to see him so pessimistic so you'd compliment him whenever you can. All of it are genuine though as you really does think he's a great person that deserves to hear good words.

The way he easily turns red makes you want to tease him. You won't tease him by lying or insulting him, you'd tease him by saying great things about him just to get a reaction. You'd praise him for the little things like when he wins a game he's been grinding for a while. You'd do anything just to see his face, ears and hair turn pink once more.

Idia seems to give you special treatment

You could see this in the way he treats you differently from the others. Mainly because you're close friends that secretly like each other (you admit this but won't act on it). The treatment becomes even better due to you and Ortho getting along really well. You know how harsh Idia's words can be to others and it's in great contrast to his gentle interactions with you. Most of the time, you'd be the only person he'll talk to in the room which others don't really like as he takes most of your attention away. He's definitely smug about it.

If your friends invite you to something you know he'll like, you'd invite him as well. If he doesn't agree, you'll tell him the contents of your trip once you get back. If he does agree to join, you'll keep your attention on him so he won't be left out. If he's feeling unwell, you'll take care of him and move him away from crowds. So he'd repay you by paying for all your expenses for that trip, even the souvenirs or merch that you want.

He knows of your inability enjoy the things you really want to do due to the financial constraints of Ramshackle. That's why he specifically built a pc setup in your dorm and his room just for you as a gift. In your dorm so Yuu and Grim can also use it, mainly for academic purposes, and in his room so you could play together since his internet connection is better. He'd even go as far as to lend you money so you could pull for your favorite gacha banner, or gift you those expensive armors in matching pairs for your characters. It's a bit too much for you as you felt like you're taking advantage of him and his feelings so you reject it but then you'll suddenly see the thing you have your eyes on and he'll make an excuse saying it's your advanced/belated birthday gift.

Idia's intelligence

This is definitely one of the your favorite things about him which leaves you in awe every single time. You remember how he got offered an internship by Olympus Company and how he's being offered by other sponsors for his genius. His talent and expertise in engineering and gaming makes you admire him. Also how he made Ortho when he was just 16, something so complex and hard that you thought many people needed to work on was something he did by himself. You are definitely mindblown by his talents. Add to that when he told you the reason he's allowed to stay in his room during classes as he's practically in charge of NRC's security.

Dilemma

You knew that from the moment you heard about him and sought him out that you will like him. You can clearly see how he likes you too everytime his hair turns pink around you. The two of you have this sense of comradeship and understanding you cannot find with others. Your interests are aligned which brings you so much joy in this world.

If you weren't trying to go home, you would've made the first move already but unfortunately that wasn't an option just yet.

You decided to just keep these feelings to yourself as soon as you realized it. Even if it was unfair to him, all because you like him yet couldn't pursue him.

Conclusion

It's been months since you became friends with Idia. Your blatant interest in him was something you try to keep to yourself yet still uncontrollably express. You like him so much that when you saw him just standing so defeated, like he just accepted that he cannot change anything. That he'll be stuck at Styx forever, his curse has no cure, his brother lost, his friends aware of what he's done, him being all alone in this world. You hated it.

Yuu, Grim and the other kidnapped overblotted boys were finally starting to leave the underworld after giving him words of encouragement, expecting him to come back to school soon. You stayed behind to talk to him, getting closer to his lonely figure.

"The rest are leaving. You should go with them"

His voice that resorted to muttering again hurts you, as you can feel the pain hiding behind it. You took his hand in yours and squeezed it, wanting to share your warmth even just a little bit.

"I will wait for you Idia"

You gave him the gentlest smile you could muster as you gazed tenderly at his eyes. His eyes moistening at something he feels like he doesn't deserve. Your affection was overwhelming and he craves it. It hurts but he loves it at the same time.

"So you have to come back to me"

You leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. It was just a peck that lasted for a few seconds yet felt like eternity. You pulled back and hugged him tightly to show that he wasn't alone. You could feel him trembling as he also clung to you, not wanting to let go but you have to.

"I'll see you at school"

You let go of him and started to leave, following the rest who went first, giving you two privacy. You could see it in his eyes how the gears have turned where he has something to look forward to. He touched his lips with his fingers, disbelieving that you just kissed and hugged him. You were there waving him goodbye excitedly at the premise of meeting him again.

He has to go back. Because you'll be waiting for him.

It's a promise

=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=

Note/s: I didn't seem to do well even though I love him so much😭 I'll do better next time. Anyways is this an observation or a drabble cuz it's mixed😂 Pls give me ideas🙏

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst idia #idia shroud #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #yukikhun

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astraystayyh · 2 years ago

Text

Bittersweet

Pairing : Bang Chan x reader, exes to lovers.

Summary : You broke up with Chan because of an once in a lifetime work opportunity. Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.

Warnings : Some cursing, reader has a big fear of thunder, allusion to sex in the end but no smut.

A.N: I wrote this as part two of Beginning of the End, but it can be read as a stand-alone. Still, i HIGHLY recommend reading part 1 first, it will just be more impactful!! Please let me know if you enjoyed reading, it means a lot to me <333

(Part 1)

-------------

Four years later, you were back to where it all started.

It felt weird to return home after all this time; to stroll down the alleys you once memorized, to meet up with the friends you once couldn’t live without. To witness firsthand how small your existence is, in the sense that you were so attached to your city, yet it had moved on perfectly despite your absence.

Still, you couldn’t really blame the world for moving on because you changed a lot too.

You had grown happier and more secure in yourself. Your work was recognized and praised, and you made some unforgettable memories that wouldn't have been possible had you not left. You felt as if everything you fought hard for finally paid off.

But throughout the years, one thing did remain the same; your love for Chan. You never tried to forget him or make your feelings go away. You figured that loving him was like the skin that clung to your bones, an inseparable part of your being.

Still, you were human after all, and as the months passed, you began to forget the sound of his voice and the warmth of his body against yours. His giggles became a distant memory in your mind, and so did the feel of his hands on your skin. Loving Chan became like a photograph that you safely tucked away; it chipped at the edges and its colors faded, but it still lived on, just like your love for him did.

And now that you were finally back with a bigger promotion, you couldn’t help but think about Chan even more. Everywhere you went, you saw snippets of your past with him.

You were so young, so foolish, you realized.

But so utterly in love.

----------------

It was 11 pm, and you were suddenly craving ice cream. You knew it was a bit ridiculous because it was -3 degrees, and you were already freezing, but you had one fundamental rule in life: never say no to your heart's desires.

This is why, despite the cold, you quickly leave your new apartment and skip toward the convenience store near you.

You head inside and grab your favorite ice cream before strolling around in case something else caught your attention. You just loved the calm inside and wanted to bask in it a bit more.

You round the milk aisle and suddenly bumped into someone’s chest. You were about to apologize when the words got stuck in your throat.

Chan.

"Yn…?" he calls out, and you feel yourself grow weak in the knees.

There was something about the way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue that made you feel as if no one, besides him, had ever done it justice.

He was even more beautiful than when you last saw him four years ago. His brown curly hair was tousled and his warm eyes reminded you of galaxies. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest because you couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe it was him.

Memories of your last time together came crashing down on you like a wave; how he hugged you and told you to pretend as if nothing was happening, how he wrote you the most heart-wrenching letter that you’ve since memorized by heart.

"How are you?" you ask, clearing your throat. It felt silly to ask such mundane questions. This wasn't what you wanted to know. You wanted to ask if he still hated the taste of alcohol, if he still cried during sad movies, if he still squealed when he laughed, if he still loved you as you loved him.

But you couldn't voice those thoughts, so you willed yourself to drown them in the storm that is your mind.

"I'm good, and you?" he replies, smiling a little. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"I'm great."

"You look like it," he says, and you meekly nod, "So do you."

"Are you... visiting?" he asks after a few silent beats, and you shake your head, "I'm back for good."

"That's great. It's nice seeing you again," he gives you a genuine smile this time, and you can't help but grin back. You missed him.

You both stare at each other for a while after that, taking each other in. Looking at him felt like looking at a mirror of your past self -you could clearly see yourself in him because he once was a part of you, just like you were a part of him.

"I'll... I'll get going," he points behind him, retracting back, and before you could think it through, you grab his wrist to stop him.

It wasn't butterflies you felt when you touched him, that would be an understatement, it was pure electricity shooting through you.

People had touched you while you were away - hugs, kisses, and intimate caresses - but none of them made you feel this way. You were like a prisoner who had just felt the sun's rays against their skin for the first time in years. And you were starving for that sunlight.

"Can we meet up? Catch up? If you want to, of course," you whisper. Your voice is quiet- a stark contrast to the chaos going on in your mind.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'd like that," he agrees, rubbing the spot where you had grabbed him. Did he feel the sparks too?

"Tomorrow, this time, in the park near our old apartment?" you suggest, and he nods, "Sure. I'll be there."

"Great. I'll wait for you."

----------

You are sitting on a swing, swaying back and forth gently. Your heart is beating erratically in your chest, and you bite your nails from how stressed you are. In the four years you were away, you had to give conferences in front of thousands and thousands of people, yet you weren't as nervous as you are now.

"You still do that?" a voice next to you reprimands and you turn around to find Chan.

"Old habits never die, I guess," you smile sheepishly, dropping your hand down, and he chuckles.

"How are you?" you ask again, and he shrugs, "I'm good."

"How are you, really?"

"I don't think you have the right to ask me that anymore." His words cut you deep, and you swallow forcefully. "I'm sorry, I didn't... I didn't mean to pry."

"I know, fuck, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's okay," you reassure, looking up at the starry sky. He was right after all.

"Haven't been stargazing for a while," he whispers, and you smile sadly. That was one of your favorite activities together.

"Me too. But I love looking at the stars," you reply.

"I know. They remind you of how small you are in the grand scheme of things," he says nonchalantly as if he didn’t just knock the breath out of you. He remembered.

"Yeah, like how I've been away for four years, and everything moved on as if I've never been here."

"Your absence was felt, yn”, he pauses, “I used to miss you." Used to. Past tense.

"I still miss you." Your reply is instant; you don't feel the need to hide from him. You never did.

Chan holds your gaze for a while, and you wonder what he was thinking at that moment. You wanted to shout at him to tell you what was on his mind. To just say it. But you couldn't. You can no longer ask things from him; you knew that.

"I saw your name in news articles and TV shows. You had your big breakthrough," he suddenly smiles at you, changing the subject. You feel a blush creep up your neck; the fact that he kept up with you made you feel shy all of a sudden.

"I guess I did, I grew a lot. I... I think that I needed to get away and experience new things. It would have haunted me had I not," you smile, and he nods attentively. He still listened to you intently, as always.

"You were always destined for great things," he says seriously, and you feel your eyes well up with tears.

He spoke those words as if he wholeheartedly believed them, and nothing in the world could ever sway his mind.

"So are you. You've been doing amazing these past few years, getting all these awards and deals. I love your music," you gush, and he waves a hand in the air as if to dismiss your words.

"Don't do that," you chastise, "you should be proud of yourself. I know I am very proud of you."

"I suppose the years did us good," he sighs wistfully, and you hum in agreement. You are both quiet after that. You don’t dare to speak, afraid that your next words would break the bubble you are in. As selfish as it was, you didn’t want to face reality yet.

"Just say what’s on your mind," he suddenly speaks up, and you raise a brow at him inquisitively.

“You are scratching your throat as if to stop the words from coming out. Just tell me.” Chan, ever the perceptive.

You take in a deep breath, willing your voice to sound strong, "The only thing I regret is that... I had to lose you in the process. I know I'll never find someone as amazing as you."

Chan doesn’t reply and your words linger in the air, suffocating you. You hoped that a strong wind will come by and carry them away, somewhere they wouldn't hurt anymore.

"I did love you, yn." A pause, and you can feel a heartbreaking ‘but’ coming. "But I don't anymore. I found... I found someone else. They are good to me and I love them."

"Oh". You dreaded it, expected it even, you never wanted him to wait for you. Because you left, so he had every right to move on. Still, you were only human, an enamored human whose heart now broke in two.

You feel the bile rise in your throat and you shake your head as if to clear those stupid thoughts away. You left, for god’s sake, you weren’t allowed to feel this way. But still, it hurt, it hurt so bad all you wanted to do was to curl in a ball and weep.

"I hope that you are happy with them. That's all I ever wanted for you, happiness." Your voice wavers and he knows, Chan must know you are trying so hard not to break down. So he doesn’t comment, he only smiles at you, which makes your heart break even more, because he must smile at them like this all the time now.

"I will get going," you abruptly stand up, dusting your pants. "Let me walk you home," he offers and you shake your head no.

"It's nearly midnight, you are out of your mind if you think I'll let you walk alone."

"Okay," you simply reply. Truth is, you weren’t processing what he was saying anymore. 'I love them' kept repeating itself in your head like a broken mantra. He found someone else. He found someone else. He found someone else, and it isn’t you.

"This is me", you clear your throat when you arrive in front of your apartment, and Chan stops in his tracks.

“Come here”, he says and it’s all it takes for you to bury yourself in him. Just like four years ago, he was leaving you with a goodbye hug. Only this time, there was no hope left. Only a sense of finality. He knows that you still love him, you couldn't hide that from him. But he doesn't love you anymore and he can't hide that from you.

The hug only lasted a mere ten seconds, but you tried your best to take it all in, to memorize how it felt for Chan to hug you again. You desperately needed to patch up the broken memories you had left of him.

You finally lean away, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your shirt. Chan’s brows furrow looking at you, and you smile reassuringly. "I'm okay really. This is just bittersweet to me."

"It is to me too," he whispers and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from breaking down.

"You stay safe for me, yeah?" he tells you softly and you nod again, "you too."

"Goodbye, yn."

"Goodbye, Chan," and with that you turn around, entering your apartment block.

You've never hated goodbyes more than in that instant.

------------

it's been 3 months since your talk with Chan. Admittedly, you've gone back to that convenience store where you've met him, for a month straight, just in case he went back there. He didn't. And now you had a large stock of snacks you didn't know what to do with.

After that, you went to all the places where you've gone to on your dates. You don't know what you were expecting. You've lost Chan, but still, you always found yourself back to where you shared memories with him. But he wasn't there.

In the third month, you've started accepting that you lost him for good. The love mingled with the ache and you found comfort in its everlasting presence. It served as a reminder that you did love him, and he did love you back at some point.

Thankfully, your work was going really well, and tonight, you were out with your superior to celebrate a successful deal you chaperoned and discuss some upcoming projects.

You enter the restaurant, your boss hot on your tracks, when you abruptly stop. Sat on a table right across from you is Chan with a girl you did not recognize. You would have bolted out had it not been for your boss who looked at you with worried eyes. You shake your head mouthing an "I'm fine" to him.

While your boss placed your order, you couldn’t help but stare at Chan. He looked so... happy with her. She said something and he laughed, tipping his head back. You felt jealousy gnaw at your heart because you were the one who used to make him laugh like that.

You left, you remind yourself, you are the one who left.

Against your own will, you look up at Chan once again, only this time he was looking at you too. You hold his gaze as if under a spell, and when the girl next to him touches his hand softly to bring him to her, you almost sob right there and then.

"... our partners will come from France and you will have to hold a meeting with them tomorrow."

"Sure. I already prepared the slides and sent them over to your mail," you nod. Work, forget about Chan, work.

"I will check them out. You'll have Clara with you?"

"Yes, she's the only one who can speak French besides me. I have been overlooking her for this past month and she's really competent."

"Should I challenge her?"

"Yeah, I think she's up to the task", you smile and he nods, satisfied.

You try to eat your dinner after that, keeping up with your boss’s chatter. But it felt like a punishment- sitting there when the man you still loved was on a date right across from you.

And as if your night couldn’t get any worse, you hear thunder rumble loudly. You clench your glass so tightly in your hand- you are surprised it didn’t break.

You had a really really big fear of thunder. It stemmed from when you were a child, playing hide and seek when a thunderstorm happened. You ended up being stuck in the closet for an hour because your cousins forgot about you, and you fainted from how afraid you were.

You look up at your boss apologetically, you couldn't tell him you had to leave because of a childhood phobia, so you quickly try to muster up an excuse. "I'm sorry to cut it short but can I go? I have a- a dentist appointment and I need to wake up very early tomorrow."

"Sure. I'll see you at work?". You have never been more grateful for his understanding.

"Yeah, thank you for dinner".

You quickly grab your things, leaving the restaurant. You hop in your car but you are shaking so badly, you can't even start the engine. Another thunder resounds and you drop your keys, forcefully shutting your eyes. You try to drown out the sound with your hands clasped on your ears but it didn’t help. It was too much- the pain, the fear, the ache. You needed everything around you to stop.

You hear the door next to you suddenly open and you snap your eyes toward it, to find a disheveled Chan standing there. He pulls you out of your seat, instantly bringing you to his body.

He knows how scared you are of thunder.

"Shhh, it's okay, I'm here. You're safe," he pats your head gently and you hug him tighter to you; as if he was your only mean of survival.

He tries to peel away but you only hold him closer, to which he rubs soothing circles on your back, “I’m not going anywhere, let me drive you home, okay?”

You nod against his chest and he lets go of you, holding your hand instead. He opens the passenger door for you then he quickly hops into the driver’s seat. He starts off your car, blasting the music so loud you no longer hear the thunder booming.

Your hand is still tightly clasped in his when you arrive home.

He silently opens the door for you once more, and you lead him to your apartment. You were mortified he had to leave the restaurant for you, but you were so grateful for him, because at the end of the day, he came to you.

Chan awkwardly stands in your living room and you figure the least you could do is apologize. "I’m sorry I cut your date short."

"You sound jealous", he points out.

"I am jealous, but mostly sorry."

"You shouldn't date someone who won't be with you in times like these," he dismisses your words, and you frown. Why did he sound angry all of the sudden?

"He didn't know."

"Still, he should have seen the signs. I was across the room but I saw you shaking for god's sake!” he almost shouts and you take a step toward him.

"Why do you care?"

"I don't," he is lying.

"Why does it bother you?” you insist. You needed to know.

"I said it doesn’t yn," he enunciates but you don’t back off.

“He’s my boss that’s why I was alone, but why? Why does it matter to you?"

"Because I fucking lied", he shouts, inching closer to you. "Because I lied yn, I never found someone else, it was you, it was always you."

"What... but the girl?".

"She's my coworker yn. I tried to forget you. I tried but you were always there. You were everywhere. And I had to carry on with the love I had for you but I didn't know where to put it anymore. Because you didn't tell me, you didn't tell me where the love was supposed to go now that you left!"

You stare at him unblinking, afraid that this was all just a figment of your imagination.

"And then... and then you came back and it was as if no time has gone by. It was as if you'd never left and I wanted to kiss you and hug you and I wanted you back. I needed you back", his hands are on your shoulders now, grasping you tightly as if to convince himself that you were here.

"But I couldn't, I couldn't allow you in because what if you left again? I wouldn't survive that, yn," his voice cracks at your name and it’s all it takes for you to bring his lips crashing down on yours.

You stagger back, your fingers grazing your lips in shock, "I'm so sorry, I didn't-", your words are cut off by his mouth on yours once again, "don't stop", he whispers and you kiss him, again and again. Your mouths moving in sync to the symphony that is your love.

When you finally pull away, he places his forehead on yours and you close your eyes. "Tell me this is real, that you're back to me."

"I'm here."

"You still feel like a dream."

"I'm here, I'm here", you reassure, your hand gently cradling his cheek, "I never stopped loving you Chan. I knew I was destined to love you, whether you loved me back or not."

"You are my soulmate", he leans back, kissing your forehead softly, "you and I are one."

"I've got a tattoo of your handwriting", you confess softly and his eyes snap open.

"What?"

"I tattooed a sentence from the letter you left me, with your handwriting, 'Our love will remain'."

"Where?"

"Here", you trace the outline of your breast and he chokes, "somewhere only I can see it."

"You are crazy", he chuckles, a bewildered smile on his face.

"In love, yes," you giggle and he blushes, hiding his head in your neck.

“Can I see you tomorrow? We have a lot to talk about," he asks, peppering the curve of your neck with kisses.

"Sure, I'm all yours after 5 pm."

"Works for me. I’ll see you tomorrow?", he smiles, and you beam at him, "I’ll see you."

Chan doesn't let you go and you laugh, kissing his cheek, "you are not leaving?"

"I'm not", he smiles cheekily.

"And why is that?"

"Because....", he drawls out, his lips brushing against your collarbone, "I need to see that tattoo."

----------

A lover’s body is like a land you discover over and over again. And tonight, as Chan made love to you, you drank it all in- the flexing of his muscles and the new sounds he made. But despite those changes, you found out that you never forgot the secret passages to his body, and the ways only you can make him unfold.

Still, it wasn’t when his naked body hovered over yours that you felt bare in front of him. It was when you both laid next to each other, talking in bed until the sun rose, that he undressed your mind.

It is there, behind those walls that you both built, that Chan and yn from four years ago lived on.

And you were still as in love.

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joejhang · 1 month ago

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why kevjean doesn't work.

i'm sad about it too but hear me out. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk.

look it makes me so sad to say it but kevjean does not work in this universe (i know, this also means it doesn't work, by extension, in any universe, considering jean is dead.) and i need y'all to hear me out on this. everyone theorising that kevjean will be the endgame ship in tsc i hate to break it to u all: not only does that not at all align with anything in canon, but it also would just be a really bad writing decision on nora's part.

LET ME EXPLAIN. jean's arc in tsc is first and foremost about healing. i think everything and every relationship jean has throughout the tsc trilogy has to lend itself towards that in some way, and ultimately has to resolve in jean being in a better place than he was at the beginning, and if not done healing, then being certain that one day he will be. (this is how jean is when he graduates from usc in the current canon ec).

following this line of thought, jean logically can't end up with kevin. and not just because it contradicts canon, because i fully believe nora is free to contradict any of the ec she wants in tsc, but because fundamentally, it would not aid in jean's healing arc.

i see the appeal, i really do. kevin and jean have insane lore, off the charts chemistry and tension and are actually extremely compatible. but that isn't enough in this case to justify an established relationship between the two of them that isn't in the past. (don't get me wrong i am a WHORE for past kevjean/kevjean situationship/unrequited kevjean it's all very yum).

i genuinely think getting into a relationship w kevin at this point in the story would hurt and hinder jean's healing arc. kevin, through no fault of his own, is so deeply entwined with jean's trauma and memories in evermore that he literally cannot be anything but a trigger and catalyst for bad memories and grief/anger in jean. y'all forget just how deep kevin's departure cut jean (not just physically), and jean hasn't even entirely worked things out with kevin yet. they have a lot of dirty laundry to air out, both between the two of them and their relationship as well as about neil and r*ko. people also forget that kevin and jean both played a role in each other's abuse. jean said himself that it destroyed him, how easy it was to fall into kevin's bystander role. they both were witnesses and bystanders to each other's abuse by r*ko or tetsuji. that doesn't mean it was their fault, and they literally could not have done anything to help or stop anything, but it doesn't mean it didn't have an affect on the other nonetheless. i feel like ppl r missing a lot of nuance in this context: kevin and jean's relationship has always been inherently tragic, even if it doesn't end with a fall out. they've always been each other's greatest friend in the worst places, and they've always been forced to witness the trauma done to both of them. their bond is complicated, even if the love is there (which i think it is). i won't call it a trauma bond but i do think their bond is deeply influenced and intertwined with their shared trauma.

even if they did work thru everything, i honestly think jerejean is the only way to go here. nora has laid the groundwork for that mutual attraction and trust there in book one, and now we're just gonna have to see how it plays out. they may not be together properly until jean graduates, but i don't see a problem with that. i think, at the end of the day, it's not a matter of if it'll happen but when. jean needs jeremy (and cat + laila) right now, and there's a reason kevin chooses to send him to the sunshine court, and it's not just cos they're the only team worthy of jean's skill. "their kindness matters." kevin says, and it does. jeremy + the trojans innate kindness and care towards jean are what he needs to heal and grow out of the ravens' shadow. being with kevin i fear would jeopardise that. at the end of the day, kevin is too deeply rooted in jean's past, which is a veritable goldmine of trauma that, while does need to be acknowledged and talked about, does not need to be dug up again. this isn't jean or kevin's fault, just a fact.

i think nora's also made it pretty clear that kevjean (whether requited or not) is a thing of the past. the love was there, and it might've changed everything and it might've changed nothing, but the love was there. and maybe it still is. but things have changed, and they're both going their own way and i think it's really important to understand that.

side note: this is also part of the reason i'm not the biggest fan of thea and kevin's relationship. i'm not actually sure if they're all that good for each other, given how/where their relationship began and developed. i don't doubt they care for and love each other, but i just don't know if they're the best people for each other in terms of like...wellbeing. anyway does anyone have any good kevaaron fic recs???

#mildly microwaved take #gonna piss some ppl off with this one #zoe yaps #aftg #all for the game #the sunshine court #tsc #jean moreau #kevin day #jeremy knox #riko moriyama #neil josten #kevjean #jerejean #the golden raven #tgr

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

Note

hey y'all, i pretty much know that i'm the asshole big time- but i'm not sure what to do about it. i know i need to shift my perspective, especially because i'm not sure what to do going forward... or how to meaningfully apologize, so I think i need some outside judgement.

AITA for wanting to possibly return to speaking terms with someone i cheated with?

about 1.5 years ago one of my best friends (i'll call him R, we're all 20 now) confessed to me while I had a bf- R said he knew i wasn't into him but asked me to kiss him once. i felt really bad and didn't feel anything for him, so i said yes and we briefly kissed. I didn't think it was going to be a big deal until I told my boyfriend right afterwards and he got really upset in a way i now see i was really understandable. i've come to see the situation as cheating, but I think fundamentally we had a different view of it at first. my bf asked me to not be alone with him anymore or talk to him outside of groupchats (i was in a friend group of 3 people, R me and another guy). I tried really hard to follow through on this but in reality- i just didn't want to cut off one of my best friends- there were times I went against my boyfriend's wishes and slowly I let up and saw him/talked alone more. I would tell my boyfriend about it and he would be hurt by it and I would feel horrible, but I didn't put up a hard boundary. I hated myself for it, but I didn't feel like R was actually a problem, rather that the problem was my lack of respect for my bf. A month or two later, all of us moved away to different colleges. After two months of long distance and continuing to talk to R on the phone sometimes, my boyfriend left me citing that as one of the reasons.

I realized I should have valued my bf more and I stopped talking to R (basically ghosted him), but he contacted me on another platform and asked if I was okay and I realized that he was a true friend in a lot of ways. When we hung out on winter break at home, we were chilling and he kind of made a joke asking me to sleep with him. I said no very loudly because I'm not into him like that and I was still hung up on my bf. Meanwhile, after 2 months of no contact, me and my bf had started to talk again very tentatively (i had tried really hard to instigate it which, sometimes i feel bad about not leaving him in his peace- but I was having a really hard time accepting the breakup). I realized there was something I really needed to do to show him I was serious and I sent R a text saying we couldn't be friends anymore citing some lame reasons and the whole 'sleep together' thing.

After that, R didn't contact me and I felt like it was sad, but kind of a blessing because I got to focus on building trust between my bf and I and we eventually got back together.

Anyways, in the past year, the relationship has been steadily getting more comfortable and I hadn't had any contact with R or cheated since (I kind of believe once a cheater always a cheater, so this is an accomplishment. I really don't want to hurt my bf like that again.)

Okay here's the sucky part though (as if the rest wasn't already sucky of me) i was posting tiktoks for the first time this week and, little did i know, the algorithm was showing them to people who had my number. I got a call from an unknown number and a text that said "can we talk." I realized from the chat history it was R, whose number i deleted. I didn't answer, but a part of me really wanted to.

I missed him and I felt bad for leaving the friendship the way it was, I was also really curious as to why he was contacting me now?? But I knew I needed to tell my bf before I did anything. He said he would feel more comfortable if I didn't respond and I kind of agreed- but I said I was going to think about it and that I would tell him explicitly before I did anything.

Then the next day I got another call from a random number with my hometown area code- I thought there was a possibility it was R and decided to just act in the moment and let fate decide- I answered and it was him. It was kind of scary, but also exciting and didn't feel wrong in my body. He was weirdly casual just saying hi and that he saw my tiktoks and missed me, we ended up talking like old friends- like the time that had passed had healed some of that old stuff. He told me i was the best friend he ever had, and I remembered all kind of good things about our friendship. I also was able to apologize for ghosting him- if not super well. I knew while we were talking that my bf was not going to be comfortable with this and that I was unsure about what to do going forward and I think R kind of knew that was the case too, so it was also very awkward. when we hung up, it was clear I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to be his friend again.

When I told my bf as soon as i got off the phone, he was understandably very upset, even more so when I said I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep talking to R in the future. I feel really bad for hurting him, I was really mainly thinking about my own feelings. Now he and I are trying to resolve things, but I'm ashamed to say I don't know how I can make it better. I've told him that, even though it's not necessarily what I want, I'm willing to block R again, but I don't think it feels satisfying to either of us. my bf and I have been dating for 4 years now (with that break at 3 yrs) and he means so much to me, I don't want to bring us back to a place of distrust, but part of me feels like this was kind of pent up while I had R blocked. i've never ended a friendship with anyone before or blocked someone, so it all feels really weird to me, but I can imagine that my bf must feel really betrayed by my continued unsureness.

also R and my bf used to be friends for like 5 yrs- then R and I were close for 1 yr. my bf has said he felt left out by that and that he felt like R was a jerk to him while they were friends, so that's an element of it as well.

if you've read this far, thanks so much- advice? AITA? I've spent so much time feeling like scum for the way I handled the situation and while I have to love myself through it- I don't want to keep mishandling it- was answering the call all that bad, do I need to totally forget about talking to R?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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celtigxr · 3 months ago

Text

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. xiii: Girl's Night

Chapter Summary: The night is young, and so are they. 🍷🍷🍷

Word count: 4530

Sneak Peak: Aegon turned to look at his brother, shit eating grin plastered on his alabaster face, “This is the best day of my life.”

Warnings: Copious amounts of alcohol, public intoxication, a fun time.

T H E R E D S

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Valeana was quite surprised at how fast she fell into friendship with Wylla Stark and the third Baratheon daughter, Ellyn. It was within their company that she realized a fundamental truth of her life: she had no real female friends. She had her sisters, but sisterhood bonds through blood and marriage was an obligation. Valeana was always on guard with Floris, and Shyla was… Shyla. A cross between a cat in heat and a drunk butterfly. She had little in common with her.

The day of the two house’s arrival was the same day the King and several of their family members left to attend the funeral of the late Princess Visenya, the youngest grandchild and only daughter of Rhaenyra. Val would have gone with her brother, but she was more of a stranger now to the crown princess. She might have known her better as a child, but after a decade, it felt improper to reunite under the dire circumstances. Clement, however, knew them more closely, having sailed back and forth to Dragonstone and Driftmark more times than she cared to remember.

The days began somberly now that the Keep was garbed in black and bleak clothing. While the sun still blared overhead, there was a dark cloud over King’s Landing; even the smallfolk mourned the loss. Though life at court still went on, and the convergence of the castle’s occupants was required as if it was a job.

It was expected for all eight of the young ladies to mingle. Cassandra, the eldest, was nearly as hard to endure as Floris (Grafton). Always complaining and pinching her face in clear disgust over the most trivial things that bothered her. Maris was quite the talker; she loved the sound of her own voice almost as much as she loved correcting people. Though, Valeana had noticed whenever a male was present, she would go silent and red-faced. Little Floris was delightful though, but incredibly naive. She took to Shyla early on, but seemed to be struggling to keep up with her. When she did talk, it was only ever about Daeron Targaryen. To balance that out of course, Shyla would talk about Aegon, so it was really an endless circle of prince talk between the two. And then there was Ellyn, who was mostly quiet but often made silent looks behind the rim of her cup that clearly communicated her opinions.

At one point, Cassandra scoffed at younger Floris when she swooned over her absent lover boy, claiming it made her look desperate, and how she– Cassandra that is– “would never be so easy for a man” and how Floris should act more “mysterious and unavailable”, like her. Ellyn’s eyes widened and her perfect U shaped smile quickly hid behind her cup while her trembling shoulders exposed the internal battle she had with her own giggles.

Valeana felt a bubble of laughter from the girl��s expression alone, and tried fruitlessly to swallow it, but it ended up coming out like a suppressed hiccup.

Then there was Wylla Stark, who embodied mysterious and unavailable. She sat with her legs perfect crossed under her grey and blue skirts, glass goblet in her elegant hand with her long almond shaped nails, and asked:

“How is that going for you, Lady Cassandra?”

Valeana and Ellyn could have died at the way they were holding their breath to prevent themselves from laughing.

After that moment, the three spent as much time together as possible. Valeana needed the distraction to keep her mind off of Aemond and his rejection of her peace offering. With Helaena and her brother at Dragonstone, and Aegon fucking off somewhere, she didn’t have anyone else to turn to.

It was the evening sometime after the hour of the bat, and the three girls were deep into their cups. Their faces flushed with laughter, liquor, and the humidity that still lingered in the night air after a long hot day.

“It is so bloody hot here, I do not know how you southerners stand it,” Wylla pulled at the loose fabric of her bodice to air herself out. It was enough to see the tops of her breasts, which Valeana caught Ellyn openly staring at. “I miss the cool breeze coming from the North.”

“You get used to it,” Ellyn said, moving her fan to cool off Wylla, who arched her neck in gratitude. “In Storm’s End, it’s always humid. We’re so close to Dorne, but with all our rain, it is never a dry heat.”

“I can’t imagine living somewhere where it storms that frequently,” Valeana leaned her head back into the armchair she sat on, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop the spinning of her head. “Claw Isle has its storms, but at most a few times in a moon’s cycle.”

“I do envy your home, Valeana,” Wylla sighed when Ellyn stopped fanning her to relax her arm. “I’ve always wanted to go to the beach.”

“You’re in the south now– plenty of opportunity to see the beaches,” Ellyn suggested.

Valeana made a face, “King’s Landing isn’t a place known for it. Unless you want to smell like fish and shit, and find severed feet along the shoreline.”

“Severed feet?” Wylla said appalled, “Why feet?”

“When people die at sea – or dumped in the water – fully clothed, overtime the water causes it to bloat and decompose. However, the shoes keep the feet afloat, so eventually it just–” Val makes a motion with her hands, micking a limb being pulled off. “--pops off and floats around until it gets beached.”

“That’s disgusting!” Ellyn looked both shocked, but morbidly entertained. “How in the world do you know that?”

“Me and– and Prince Aemond,” invoking his name already gave her a headache. “We used to walk along the shores of Blackwater Rush with Ser Criston, and we would find them more often than I’d care to admit. Maester Orwyle explained to us why. Now this knowledge haunts me to this day, so I must pass it onto others.”

“How considerate of you, Val,” Wylla shakes her head and takes a sip of her wine. “I will treasure it always.” Val cracked open her eye and pointed at her with a heavy arm, “Good! It will be useful information. In the North… where there are no beaches. Just snow… and hairy men… and-and, whatever it is in the North. Whatsitcalled? Cold Walkers? Ice Soldiers?”

“Shhhh,” Wylla chastised her through her laughter, “They’re called White Walkers, and please do not say it so loudly. It will summon my brother and that is the last thing we want.”

“I mean,” Valeana lifted her head and wagged her eyebrows, “It’s what you don’t want.”

A pillow went flying at her face, causing both her and Ellyn to bark out laughing.

“What? What?! Is that not why we are all here? To marry? Find a husband, and all that–” Valeana made a raspberry noise with her lips.

Ellyn snorted, covering her face, “Oh, gods, do not remind me. That is all I’ve been hearing from not just my father, but all my sisters.”

“You would not want to marry Cregan, darling, trust me,” Wylla waves her off. “He will bore you to tears.”

“But he’s nice on the eyes,” Valeana smiled sheepishly, knowing she was baiting her Northern friend.

“Just wait until your brother returns from Dragonstone, Celtigar. I’ll climb him like a tree.”

“What’s stopping you now, Stark? I’ve got a brother right here.”

“Little Arthor,” Wylla mock pouted, “He’ll suffocate too easily between my thighs.”

“Oh, gross,” Val covered her face, “Please do not paint that image in my head.”

Ellyn shook her head, mildly amused, mildly horrified, “I am so glad I do not have brothers.”

“Yet,” Wylla reminded. She adjusted herself in her seat, tucking her bare feet under herself to get more comfortable. “So, ladies, tell me: what are your goals for this Conclave? Who do you desire to be betrothed with?”

The Baratheon snorted, “Like we have a choice?”

“Let’s suspend belief for a moment, and pretend we do.”

“I haven’t thought of it,” Ellyn confessed, pulling her knees up to her chest, mug delicately cradled between both hands. “To be honest, if I had a choice in the matter, I would not marry at all.”

“Here, here!” Valeana raised her drink.

Wylla snapped her head in her direction, “Oh, I find that hard to believe. You grew up in court, surely you, of all people, are more knowledgeable of all the noble born bachelors here in the south, and have an idea or two who you’d like to attach yourself to.”

“I lived here as a child. I spent most of my years here tailing the princes like a lost pup… I barely remember anyone that ever visited,” Val scrunched up her face in thought. “I vaguely recall the Greyjoys visiting one moon… Only because they were hard to forget. Their sons were absolutely batty, especially the eldest, Dalton.” She straightened herself in her seat, now that her memory was catching up with her. Gesturing with her hands, she continued, “I remember, actually, even at seven years old, that little shit would find every opportunity to accidentally bump into, graze, or even so much as grab my arse! I was nine!”

Wylla huffed a shocked laugh, “Hells, what a little monster. I can only imagine what he is like now, a man grown.”

“Did you tell your father this?” Ellyn asked, face equally appalled. “Mine would have lost his mind.”

Val heaved a sigh, laying her head back against the chair once again, her entire body practically melting in the seat. “No.There was some tension at the time, not sure what it was, but I remember my father telling me to not upset Lord Greyjoy’s sons,” Suddenly, lost in her reminiscence, the blonde laughed. “But-but, Aemond, he–he, oh gods…” She snorted loudly to contain her laughter, covering her face as it got beat red. “He, Aegon and the Greyjoys were sparring in the training yard. He kept on dodging Dalton and using the flat end of his training sword to slap him on the rear, like thirty bloody times. He-he–” Her laughing intensified as she used her hand to illustrate the image she was trying to explain, “He was bruised all over, and so severely he could not sit or lay down on his back for two days.”

While Valean giggled (by herself) Wylla and Ellyn exchanged knowing glances and smirks, then turned back to the drunk flustered crab.

“Well, I suppose that answers my question,” Wylla quipped smugly, nestling into her seat, smile barely being hidden behind the rim of her goblet.

Val ran a hand over her face in an attempt to calm herself down. She blearily peered at her raven haired friend, a bit confused, “What question?”

“Who you desire to be betrothed with.”

Valeana looked at her incredulously, “Dalton fucking Greyjoy?!”

“No, you idiot!” Ellyn flailed her arms, “Aemond. Prince fucking Aemond.”

“Ooh, gods,” Val scrunched up her face, digging the butt of her palm into her eyes as the two girls gushed and agreed with themselves. She had forgotten for a moment that she was no longer friends with Aemond, and he, in fact, hated her. “No, no, not Aemond,” she shook her head vehemently.

“What!” Wylla nearly shouted, dark icy blues wide, “My Lady Valeana, what do you mean not Aemond? The way your face glowed at just talking about him.”

“And it makes perfect sense!” Ellyn added, “The two of you grew up together, you were quite close from what I was told. Of course it would be Aemond. It’s so sickly sweet, it almost makes me want to vomit my dinner.”

“No, no, no, Aemond– Aemond would never want me,” Val kept on shaking her head. “He hates me. Loathes me, even. Do-do you two even know what he did to me? Why my family left King’s Landing in the first place?”

The two exchanged looks, faces scrunched as they tried to recall.

“You injured yourself, I believe?” Wylla tilted her head.

“My father told me that Aegon accidentally knocked you down the stairs? I think?”

“You two are close– It was Aemond,” Val noticed her cup was empty and bent forward towards the squat table to refill it with red. “And it was not an accident. Our fathers were discussing our betrothal, which he disapproved of, apparently. I was under the foolish impression we were the best of friends, and were meant for each other. Stupid, really, in hindsight.

“He decided that he disliked me so much that he needed to get rid of me, so he pushed me down a flight of stone stairs after calling me a pig.” She surprised herself at how casually she spoke of the event, but it was likely the alcohol that numbed the reality of her emotions. “Broke my leg so severely they had to cut it off a few moons after.”

She lifted her left leg then, her dress falling down above her knee to expose her wooden foot and calf. Then with a gentle wave of her hand, she motioned along the appendage as if presenting a great trophy, “I call her Lady Footlyn Woodsby, first of her name. Her heir is Ser An-toe-knee Woodsby, the E-bone-knee Knight.”

The two other girls had fallen into a shocked silence for a moment, but that was short lived after Valeana’s introduction of her leg.

Wylla clamped her hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, “Val-Valeana…” She snorted into her palm. “That’s– I’m so sorry.”

Ellyn had both her hands upon her face, brown eyes peeking through the cracks of her fingers, “Oh-ooooh, I should not be laughing. I am sorry, Valeana.”

Val waved them off, returning her skirts over her leg, “Worry not. If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.”

Her heartbreaking admittance, despite being veiled with self-deprecating humour, did not go amiss. Wylla and Ellyn’s expressions went soft as they shared another knowing look between each other. The former reached out and placed her hand on Valeana’s knee, thumb moving in comforting motions.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, my dearest. Men are horrible creatures, especially the ones closest to you.”

That simple gesture and those kind words were enough to crumble her all at once. It had sobered Valeana enough to allow her sadness seep through the armour of numbness she had been trying to craft around herself. Her mouth, nose and eyes felt watery all of a sudden, forcing her to swallow and tilt her head back to stop herself from crying.

Ellyn made a cooing sound as she unfolded herself from her seat and walked over to her friend from behind and enveloped her shoulders in a hug, resting her cheek on top of her head. It was that gesture of comfort that had made the waterfall finally break through. Valeana had not realized how touch starved she was, how hungry she was for comfort over her heartbreak. This was a level of vulnerability she had never allowed to be exposed around her family, not even Clement. Despite her love for him, men were not well equipped to handle emotional women; he would’ve reacted how men usually did, either dismiss it with aggressive advice, or unsheathe his sword and wage a war in her name. Her step mother, despite her natural maternal instinct, was a woman who would cuddle her to her breast and smother her as if she was a child, not unlike a kiss on a bruise or scraped knee. Nothing substantial, nothing deep or empathetic. Just a salve to numb the pain for a few hours.

No, the comfort from a friend– from a fellow female –was different, almost stronger.

Like her tears, everything rushed out of her; a great purge of words, of pent up sadness, of suppressed emotions. She shared how much she loved Aemond, missed him down to her bones, how he broke her in more ways than physical, and then she shared the story of her return and the catastrophe she had made that could have been avoided, and how in her most earnest attempt to reconcile, she was ultimately left scarred more, and still yearning for him. A stuttered breath left her lungs when she finished, her shoulders caving in as if the weight of her heart finally did her in. Ellyn still cradled her head from behind, but Wylla had moved to squish in beside her and hold her middle and lay her head upon her shoulder.

“He does not deserve your love, my darling,” Wylla stroked Val’s hair. “No man alive deserves any of our love. Selfish, fickle-hearted beasts, they all are.”

Valeana sniffled, head laid in Ellyn’s arm, cheeks sticky with tears, and red from humidity, alcohol, and spending the last several minutes pouring her heart out. These three women were effectively strangers not three days ago, and yet now Valeana never felt more close to another human being. Not since him. Not since Aemond.

“Except for Cregan,” Val muttered in a small voice, light but coarse through the dryness of her throat. She reached out and patted Wylla on her arm, “Him and his manly shoulders and broad chest–”

“Please shut up,” Wylla replied with a small voice and a weak smack to Val’s face.

“Let him know I’ve got the hips to birth more of his heirs.”

“I will kill you.”

“Ladies,” Ellyn lifted her head up with a heavy sniff to clear out her sinuses. She wiped her nose and peered over to the table in front of them. “We’ve run out of wine.”

All their heads perked up to glower down at their empty bottles and carafes. This would not do– the night was still young, and so were they. The three ladies also sobered too much for their liking, and the only way to heal this disease was to drink more.

“Where’s that serving boy?”

“We sent him away for the night, remember?”

“We were fools.”

“Indeed.”

There was a beat of silence, until:

“Wait, wait,” Val sat up, forcing the two girls to unravel their arms. “I know this castle. I know a shortcut to the kitchens… There’s a secret door over there– behind that tapestry.”

“Which tapestry?”

“The one with the orgy.”

“... They’re all having orgies.”

“This-this one! Where she’s sitting on his face and eating a fig out of the other woman’s mouth,” Valeana stood up, wobbling a bit when she did. She hadn’t realized how much she drank and how long she had been sitting until that moment. But, she was convinced that she was too sober, and that wouldn’t do, so she marched over to the tapestry, unevenly and ungracefully. With one swift movement she shoved the tapestry aside to expose a stone wall.

“Valea–”

“Shush!” The silver haired girl eyed it for a moment before moving her hands along the edges of the stones until she could feel the cracks that formed the outline of a door. With a wicked smile she pushed her shoulder into it, throwing her whole body weight into moving it. With a groan the secret entrance wedged open, an amber glow emitting through the gap from the torch inside.

Ellyn gaped at it, “How did you know that was there?”

Val waved dismissively, “I was a fat child. If there was a quick route to the kitchens, I was aware of it.”

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They had reached the kitchens in a fair amount of time, but they did not, in fact, find wine. But they found bottles and bottles of dusty ale, and they weren’t about to complain. The problem they inevitably had was the trek back. Now that their minds were fully in the thick of inebriation, they got lost within the walls of the Keep and ended up in a completely different part of the castle than they were originally.

“Valeana, where the hells are we?” Wylla hissed as they rounded yet another stone corridor with very few windows.

The blonde squinted around them. The three were hanging off each other’s shoulders for dear life. Each clutched a large bottle of ale by the neck as if it was a lifeline; as if it was the only thing that was keeping them from floating away. Valeana craned her neck over their arms and took a sloppy swig of her drink, a droplet escaping her lips and dribbling messily down her chin.

“The barracks hall?” She said after a swallow.

“Are you askin’ us?” Ellyn laughed. “Chisisyerhome, and y’dunno where you ARE?”

“I know where I am!” Val shouted, brow furrowed in determination. “And this is not my home.. It’s-it’s– hic – my personal hell. Fuck it’s so hot, why is it so hot?” She cried out, slumping a bit, forcing the girls to bend at her weight.

They stumbled forward until they heard the tell tale sound of metal armour clanking ever near. A form of silver and white rounded the corner and immediately halted at the sight of the three noble women linked together by their shoulders, sloshing around drinks shamelessly.

The knight stepped forward, concern marring his face, “My ladies. Are you quite alright?”

“Ser Arryk!” Valeana shouted, arms shooting up in the air, narrowly missing Ellyn’s brow.

The knight bowed his head, “Erryk, my lady.”

“Oh, right, ‘m turribly sorry,” She threw her head back and jutted out her bottom lip in a pout at her own stupidity. “Forgive me.”

The corner of Erryk’s lip twitched upward. It didn’t take him very long to understand that these three girls were skunked out of their gourds. He gave her a nod, containing his amusement, “You are forgiven, Lady Valeana.”

“You see!” She launched herself forward, disentangling herself from her friends and reaching the white cloak’s side. Her bottle of ale fell from her fingers, clattering and rolling away along the flagstones. She then prodded her finger into his plated chest and looked over at Wylla and Ellyn, “Y’see how easy that is? I apol-ap– apolojiz–fuck me– Apo. Lo. Gized– there you go…— hic — N’you forgave me. Because yer a good man, Ar-Erryk. ‘M sorry, yer names are similar too, is very confusing.”

“Good Ser,” Wylla sauntered over, “Mayhaps you aid us troubled maids… Our foolish guide, full of hubris, led us astray, and now we are hopelessly lost.”

“How dare you insult your future Lady of Winterfell!” Val shoutted, pointing an unsteady finger at Wylla with a step towards her, but ultimately ended up wobbling on her bad leg, forcing Erryk to hold her upright.

Erryk was having a hard time keeping a straight face. It wasn’t every day that he stumbled upon drunk noble born daughters; it wasn’t very ladylike to get this drunk this publically, but he wagered that this wouldn’t be an isolated event these upcoming weeks.

He snaked an arm under Lady Valeana’s shoulder and hoisted her up on her feet, allowing her to lean against him.

“You’re below the Throne Room, my ladies,” Ser Erryk informed, and the three of them exchanged looks.

“How the hell did we end up here?” Valeana asked, chin turning up to her anchor. “Erryk, we were in the kitchens. The-the north one. I think.”

“No wonder we are lost!” Ellyn threw her head back. “Ugh, father will be furious.”

“Do not worry, ladies, I’ll safely escort you back, and arrange for a wheelhouse to bring Lady Wylla back to her pavilion.”

“Such a good man. Ser Erryk,” Wylla’s words slurred when she took an uneven step towards him. “May I ask…Why– no –would you ever consider breaking your vows?”

“Wylla!” Valeana weakly smacked the Northerner, then promptly turned to the knight. “Do not – hic – listen to her, Erryk. Don’t let this–this–temptress tempt you.”

“I am only saying,” Wylla and Ellyn started to follow the knight as he made his way out of the maze of halls beneath the Throne Room. “All the honourable ones end up being a Kingsguard. It’s such a bloody waste to womenkind!”

Erryk smiled to himself, though decided to ignore the comment, “Up these stairs, ladies.”

“Oh no,” Ellyn grinned, “Valeana’s mortal enemy.”

Wylla barked a loud laugh and the victim in question craned her neck to shoot her a poisonous glare.

“I’ll send you to the Wall! Ser Erryk, send this Baratheon traitor to the Wall.”

“Mayhaps tomorrow, my lady. The hour is already late as it is,” was the Knight’s gentle, albeit amused, reply as he helped her up the stairwell and into the cavernous Throne Room, where he immediately paused upon seeing a pair of men with silver hair.

The women’s collective gasps and loud attempts at quieting themselves had naturally gained the attention of the Throne Room’s sole occupants.

Ser Erryk immediately bowed, “My Princes. Apologies for the disturbance, I was merely–”

“Egg-On-Toast!” Valeana shouted so loudly it echoed like a lion’s roar. Her arms flew to the air above her head, then immediately marched over, completely ignoring the second prince. Her vision was tunneled, and hadn’t realized that Aegon wasn’t alone. Her warm and slightly sweaty hands gripped the eldest’s face, then she started laughing when he started laughing.

“Valeana–” Ellyn tried to reach her, eyes flickering over to the stiff Aemond that stood not six feet away.

Aegon’s eyebrows reached his hairline, his grin uncontainable. His hands gripped her wrists, but he didn’t remove them from his face.

“Are you drunk, my darling?”

“... Yes,” she giggled sheepishly. “I see why you do it so often now, is’so fun. Egg-y. My Prince of Scrambled Eggs. Eggs and Bacon–” Val sharply gasped, mouth agape at her genius. “We are Eggs and Bacon, Aegon. Tha’s a good bard song– Ellyn, write that down.”

Aegon turned to look at his brother, shit eating grin plastered on his alabaster face, “This is the best day of my life.”

Valeana’s entire body swiveled around, brow furrowed with clear confusion. “Who are you– SHIII–T!” When she turned she was immediately greeted by the imposing, towering form of Aemond Targaryen. Standing there, head tilted, with his judgey one eye, lips in a thin line and looking delicious with his narrow waist she openly stared at.

Wylla and Ellyn were snickering behind their fists, nearly down to their knees, failing to contain their nervous laughter.

Val turned her wobbly, heavy head back at Aegon, lowering her voice in a very poor attempt at a whisper, “Where the fuck did he come from?”

“Darling, he was here the entire time.”

She peered at him skeptically, then looked back at Aemond, and then back at Aegon. Her head dipped to his ear, and attempted to whisper conspiratorially, “Fecker comes outta nowhere all the bloody time, pilfering through the darkness like a thief of joy– hic. Is he a man or a forlorn ghost?”

Aegon contained his laughter when he bit down on his lip, and then glanced up at the silent shadow that was his brother.

“I can hear you, Lady Valeana,” Aemond finally spoke, his voice irritably condescending, which instantly bristled her.

Val peeled herself off of Aegon’s side and approached Aemond, angling her chin in the air to peer at him with as much dignity as she could possibly manage. And on wobbly knees, she curtseyed and said in the most patronizing tone the Throne Room has ever witnessed:

“Prince Almond.”

His eye narrowed, alight with challenge and something else.

Notes: This and the next two chapters are my favourite chapters of this series, so I really hope you guys enjoy it too.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

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nellandvoid · 4 months ago

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to celebrate the pines twins birthdays, i’m gonna make them miserable!!!!!

jkjk i just want to show a wip of my better world au designs for mabel and dipper, a (r o u g h) sketch that just so happens to be (semi) done on their birthday!! (it’s still the 31st. shut up/j)

lore dump under cut cause man am i gonna yap

the main thing i wanna do with these two is keep their fundamentals while still realistically changing their external personalities based on how they were raised (especially since their great-uncle ford is head of the institute of oddology and an estimed scholar in cryptozoology)

design-wise, i wanted to show how mabel's a bit more insecure while dipper's the opposite, so her sweaters don't all have designs on them, her hair is pulled back, and she has shorts and tennis shoes instead of a skirt and flats - dipper, on the other hand, doesn't have a hat since he doesn't care if people see his birthmark, and he has the space tee and button up combo that he was wearing in the valentines flashback in weirdmageddon pt 2 since he wouldn't be as self-conscious about showing off his interests

personality-wise, dipper has probably changed the least: still socially awkward, still has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder (same), still considers mabel his best (and only) friend - the main difference, though, is that growing up he wasn't bullied as much for being interested in the strange and unusual. kids are still cruel, of course, but he always had his great-uncle's reputation to look up to whenever someone made fun of his birthmark or obsession with ghosts. and now, getting to finally spend a summer with his idol, he's more than ready to finally be accepted for all his weirdness. he can finally be loud, be weird, be himself, and not get those looks people in piedmont give him when they think he's not looking. the few times he's met great-uncle ford growing up, the few times he slipped up and said something weird, his great-uncle never gave him the look like everyone else did. he'd just smile, always softly, always distantly, and always tell him to never change.

on the other hand, mabel is much more reserved and self-conscious, especially when she arrives in gravity falls - weirdness has always led to genius in her family, so when she let her mind drift away her parents would always drag her back down to earth, telling her she's just as capable as her great-uncle and brother, why doesn't she just take homework, take school, take life seriously like they do? and so she tries to, and tries, and eventually she learns about the look: the one people give her when she tells them about the time she swallowed a whole bag of gummy worms without chewing, or about the sweater she knit last week that's scratch and sniff, or about anything not serious. she hates the look, and starts to do anything she can to avoid it. especially when she does something silly in front of her great-uncle ford. the look he gives always hurts more, like something she did reminded him of a nightmare or a bad memory. and she didn't want to hurt him.

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kuromi-hoemie · 5 months ago

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y'know, i love reading the notes on this and watching everyone work thru their thoughts and feelings n whatnot, but you're like the one person whose tags i read and really thought Yes, you know exactly where i was coming from.

this is me

#as someone who dated someone for 6 years and met their/our best friend around the same time #and had two totally different relationships but still ended up loving them and showing that i care for them in the same way in the end #You Get Me #you can do everything u do with a lover with ur friends‚ ur friends CAN be ur lovers #relationships vary but not by type necessarily‚ just person to person and whatever their respective boundaries are #you can talk about these things. you can be open with each other. it's okay to have whatever feelings as long as u don't expect them #to all be reciprocated. just bc u can't love someone in some ways doesn't mean u can't pour ur love into them in other ways etc #there are so many different aspects i could focus on and rant about but the point isn't the path u take it's where u end up!!#it's that fundamental connection with someone and how you nurture it and each other. the relationship means more than #the labels u could try putting on it yfm.. i see past the labels atp and just focus on u as a person. whatever will be‚ will be #i get to snuggle and kiss a long-time friend now bc We Talked ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ boundaries r always a conversation u can revisit if it feels righ #and changing boundaries doesn't have to change ur relationship‚ but it can definitely deepen it if u both want it ^.^ ♡⁠#🫵🏾 love your friends #to be entirely fair i do fall for my closest friends and am at least a little romantic with all of them though i wouldn't say our #relationships are romantic in nature‚ but i wouldn't say they're strictly platonic either #there's a lot of fun stuff happening between the 2 when u realize the line between them isn't as defined as you think :3 #I'm p open so i just meet ppl where they're at boundary-wise when/if it feels right to have that conversation with them 👼🏾

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imaginesandbandfiction · 1 year ago

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Triad Part 4 — Cas and Az Figure Their Shit Out

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is my fave part so far so I hope you love it as much as I do!

Warnings: Very very short but graphic allusions to sexual content

It takes three days for Cassian and Azriel to come to terms with the idea of a Triad Bond, but they talk it out with words instead of fists so as not to agitate the bond (or you).

Rhys’ mediation helps their anger and insecurities calm down enough and then they go their separate ways for a while to think. Cassian takes to the training ring, letting his body fall into the familiar routine and freeing his mind up to wander.

He pushed himself through the uncomfortable flip of his stomach and thought about Azriel as a potential mate. They’d been friends for so long, brothers for so long, that some things were easy to picture.

Drinking of tea by the fireplace after a long mission, only instead of sitting on opposite armchairs, they’d curl up on the couch. Maybe Az would put his feet in Cas’ lap and hold his tea in one hand and a book in the other, reading out loud this time.

Eating breakfast with everyone at the Townhouse, scarfing down sausage with one hand and holding Az’s with the other, locking their fingers together underneath the table.

Standing on the balcony at the House of Wind on Starfall, underneath the glow of thousands of cascading stars. Letting his head fall onto Az’s shoulder.

Other things, however, were not so easy to picture. He couldn’t get past taking Az’s shirt off in his mind. As soon as he saw the flat expanse of golden skin, he froze and his brain went numb. Everything he knows about sex stops there. What are you supposed to do without breasts to start things off?

But then a thought sharpened into focus. Kissing. That wasn’t fundamentally any different between males and females…

Azriel, on the other hand, had long since come to terms with the fact that he enjoys the company of males as well as females. His nights at the pleasure halls were more eventful than most, but he kept them locked up deeper than the classified secrets that could destroy courts and tear alliances apart.

He liked to keep work and play separate. Cassian was always off limits; he never let his mind go there. But now his self control was unraveling strand by strand, peeling back the layers of armor and exposing his deepest, truest thoughts.

Shadows flit around the room like anxious butterflies as he paces in his office, wings tucked in tight so he doesn’t knock into anything.

Magic courses through his veins—thick cords of it wind around his neck and up into his brain, flooding it with white hot thoughts.

They’re memories, at first. Cassian pinning him down in the training ring, thick thighs squeezing Az’s waist, chests heaving hard enough to touch.

Your featherlight fingertips trailing up his arm, testing for nerve damage.

Cas’s arms around his waist and shoulders, holding him up after he got shot out of the sky by ash arrows, helping him back to base camp.

You patching him up afterwards, the three of you packed into the tiny tent, breathing in each other’s air.

But then things morph into fantasies. You riding his cock while Cassian rides his face.

Two sets of hands on hips and thighs, two tongues, two pairs of lips…

He shakes his head and, when that doesn’t drain the filth, he bangs his fist against the desk, leaving a crater in the wood.

Az? Everything okay? It’s Rhys, invading his head. He groans—caught with his defenses down.

I’m fine.

Doesn’t seem like it.

Fuck off.

Rhys obeys, immediately shutting off their connection. Two minutes later, there’s a knock at his office door. He waves his hand to open it and Azriel stands there with storms in his eyes and shadows nipping at his heels.

The High Lord’s smile could brighten all of Prythian.

“Don’t even think about it,” Az growls, stalking into the room to resume his pacing there.

Rhysand sits back in his chair, pulling one leg up to rest his foot on the opposite knee, knowing that with Azriel, it was a waiting game. He was the only one who could match the Shadowsinger’s patience.

But it’s a new record; it only takes ten minutes for him to crack this time.

“It’s Cassian,” he hisses. “Cassian.”

“I know it’s unexpected, and unconventional, but…” Azriel’s voice cuts through Rhys’ like it’s Truthteller.

“That’s not the problem. It’s Cassian, Rhys.”

Recognition crests across Rhys’s face. Smugness follows in its wake.

“Oh, brother, you dirty dog! You’ve been holding out on me.”

“I was perfectly happy separating business and pleasure until this Cauldron-damned bond came along!”

“And now you can’t stop picturing Cassian all hot and sweaty, rubbing those thick hands alongside your—“

“Yes, okay?”

“Let me guess. You’re worried that he won’t accept the bond, accept you. And you’re scared of pushing too hard, that you’re going to scare him?”

Azriel’s silence is answer enough. Rhys listens to the barely-there tapping of Az’s shoes on the stone floor, waiting again.

But then the tapping stops and Az drops into the chair in front of Rhys’s desk.

“What do I do?” He asks, hanging his head and running a slender hand through his hair.

“Have you tried tugging on the bond?” Az glares at him. “Try it. Let him know you’re there. Think of it like a peace offering.”

Az sleeps on it. He thinks about it all day, but ultimately can’t force himself to do it.

That night while he’s in bed tossing and turning because the turbulent magic is rattling his brain, he feels a tug and a flash of golden magic sprinkled with red. His breath catches in his throat—Cassian.

He tugs back, still holding his breath. Cas tugs once more and then Az and throws off his quilt and crosses the hall to knock on the general’s door.

“I want to accept the bond,” Cas says as he opens the door, ushering Az into his bedroom. “But before we do, I think we should, um…”

Az waits, leaning back against the doorframe with one eyebrow raised.

“Kiss.” Cassian finishes, tucking his chin to his chest to hide the pink peonies blooming to life on his cheeks. Az watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, letting the tension settle like dust, giving it time to flutter into place.

Cassian shifts. It’s subtle, but Azriel can smell a faint hint of arousal. He pushes himself off the doorframe and kicks the door shut behind him, crossing the room in three long strides.

He leans in until his nose brushes against Cas’s, a shadow against his lips.

“Are you certain?” He asks, searching Cassian’s eyes for the truth.

“Yes,” Cassian whispers, puffing pillows of air that tickle Az’s skin.

Azriel pushes forward, wrapping one arm around Cas’s neck to thread his fingers in the hair at its base. When their lips touch, all traces of anxiety melt into pure, peaceful pleasure. A low hum of magic seems to pass from mouth to mouth, skin to skin.

When Az pulls back, Cassian is grinning, practically glowing with gold and purple magic.

Az grins back.

They knock on your door the next evening, arms laden with bottles of wine and the most beautiful cake you’ve ever seen in your love, covered in delicate sugar flowers.

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638

#acotar imagine #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #cazriel x reader #cazriel #cazriel headcanon #cassian headcanons #cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x you #cassian x reader #azriel headcanons #azriel x you #azriel x cassian x reader #azriel x reader #headcanon #headcanons

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