#glacial mountain au

[galati-cat]

it's a macaque and my au macaque!

the ay mac is from my au (currently called glacial mountain au) where LBD laid siege to flower fruit mountain while wukong was trapped under the mountain, rather than heaven burning the forest. mac died during the siege, but not after placing a seal to prevent lbd taking over it. she was banished for a few hundred years and once she regained her powers she was sealed by tripitaka, as in lmk canon.

wukong, however, was cursed during that battle and was slowly freezing into an ice statue. He used his cloud to take his staff back to the mountain, and remained entirely unaware of what happened to ffm.

centuries later, when DBK tries to take over the city upon returning--he'd been sealed in a different manner than canon, but was still sealed away regardless--mk and crew try to find ffm to find the monkey king. instead they find a mountain frozen over and the staff protected under a strong barrier. mk is the only one able to get in and frees the staff.

he's quickly confronted by a white furred monkey, who turns out to be the reincarnated macaque. he had been reincarnated with his previous life's memories intact and tasked with training mk by gyuanyin.

i plan to draw more for this au later (ゝз○`)

[wonusite]

Glacial Pace

❝ You’ve been in love with Xu Minghao from the moment he put a bandage on your cut at the age of six. When he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get his prying family off his back, you quickly realize that keeping your feelings hidden from him will be next to impossible. Especially since your meddling friends are determined to have you admit your feelings before the holiday season is over. ❞

pairing: xu minghao x female reader

genre: fake dating au, friends to lovers, fluff, smut

word count: 5.3k

warnings: fake dating, meddling friends (they mean well i swear), mutual pining, moms saved this fic, lots of repressed feelings, unprotected sex, soft sex, creampie, cockwarming

a/n: this is part of the snowventeen collab! so happy to have been part of it! minors dni.

“We’re friends, right?”

You try to pretend the question doesn’t send you into a vague panic. Every time this question that isn’t really a question comes out of Minghao's mouth, you know he’s setting up to ask you for a favor. Judging by his tone you can tell that what he’s going to ask probably isn’t something easy, but because you were just slightly in love with him, it was foreseeable that you were going to agree to do whatever he asked of you.

“Yes, Hao. We’re friends.”

As much as you wished there was something more, that was the extent of your relationship. But that was fine. The heartbreak had dulled with the years.

“And friends help each other, right?”

You give Minghao an exasperated look. It’s not like him to beat around the bush for long, but he seems oddly reluctant this time. Even so, he doesn’t visibly show it. He leans further into the mountain of pillows you have on your bed with a subtle pout on his lips. You shouldn’t find the old hoodie and worn jeans he’s wearing this attractive, but Minghao always has a way of looking amazing in everything he wears.

“Are you gonna tell me what you want, or are you gonna keep asking me questions you already know the answers to?” You finally say, hoping you’re able to successfully hide how attracted you are to him.

“I need your help.” Before you could ask him what he needed from you this time, Minghao is sitting up and shoving his phone into your hands. “Read that.”

His phone is unlocked and opened to a group chat with what appears to be the majority of his extended family. You skim through the messages, trying desperately to hold back the amused smile on the edge of your lips.

Minghao frowns when you don’t immediately freak out. You were the one person he could count on to be on his side, but right now you don’t seem to think what his family is demanding of him is outrageous. He keeps staring at you, still waiting for you to give him the response he was expecting.

You look up from the screen, unable to keep the laughter out of your voice. “How does your aunt know you’ve been abstinent for a year?”

Minghao’s right eye twitches slightly as he snatches his phone back from you. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What else do you want me to say? That you’re the worst liar ever?” You laugh to distract yourself from the stuffy feeling growing in your chest.

At least, you hope what Minghao said to his family is a lie. After all these years, you still hadn’t managed to completely block out the feelings that came with being in love with Xu Minghao. All you can do is hope none of the tormenting feelings consuming you show on your face.

“Unless you are dating someone.”

Somehow, you manage to pretend that the very thought doesn’t sting as much as it does.

“You know I’m not.” Minghao scowls at you. “But that’s not the point. You have to help me because now they think I’m gonna bring someone home for winter break!”

It’s embarrassing how fast the knot in your chest dissolves. You take a mental deep breath and focus on giving Minghao the help he wants. “Just say your girlfriend is gonna visit her own family, or that she’s not ready to meet them yet.”

Minghao looks like he’s two seconds away from bursting a vein, but you aren’t entirely sure why. He was capable of being a master manipulator whenever he wanted to. A lie of this magnitude was something he could easily manage. It’s not like he hadn’t done it before. Still, part of you is sympathetic since your own mother had sent you a series of similar messages.

“My mom is already getting the cabin ready. It’s too late to back out now!”

This wouldn’t seem like a big deal, but you knew Minghao’s mom. She was the sweetest lady ever except when someone made her angry or disobeyed her. That’s why whenever she decided something, no one dared to go against her wishes or question her. Whatever she said was law. At least, in the Xu household it was.

“I don’t know how you expect me to help you. Your mom loves me, but even I can’t save you if she finds out you lied to her—”

“She won’t find out.” Minghao suddenly becomes unsettlingly calm. “Not when I tell her I’m dating you.”

By some sort of divine grace, you manage to not choke on your own spit. Instead you blink slowly, trying to pretend that his words don’t awaken something into you that is definitely not platonic.

“That won’t work!” You sound borderline hysterical. “She’ll definitely know you’re lying if you say I’m the girlfriend told her about!”

Minghao’s plan isn’t actually half bad, but you’re desperate to find an excuse not to help him. There’s no way you can pretend to date the man you’ve been in love with for literal decades without unintentionally revealing your feelings.

“No she won’t! Do you know how long she’s wanted me to ask you out?” Minghao says, the desperation pushing him to accidentally reveal a detail he would’ve otherwise kept to himself.

You try not to be too happy that his mom likes the idea of you two together while also ignoring the faint blush rising to his face. Instead, you focus on trying to weasel your way out of helping him.

“My mom will find out I lied if I bring home some random who barely knows anything about me.” You’re running out of legitimate reasons to say no, and before you can think up some plausible excuse Minghao pouts at you. “Please? I can’t ask anyone else to do help me. It has to be you.”

You know he says these words in a completely platonic you’re my friend so I trust you kind of way, but your stupid idealistic heart can’t help but be moved by them. And so, you say the words you know you’ll regret, but will make your friend very happy.

“Okay. I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”

“At this point you should just confess."

Seungcheol is usually a pretty sensible guy, but this is hands down the worst advice you had ever gotten from him. And the fact that both Josh and Wonwoo are nodding their heads in agreement makes you think that they’ve all lost their minds.

“Cheol’s not wrong.” Josh says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “It’s been years, and you haven’t even fucked him yet!”

The scowl on your face deepens. “Shut up. You’re the one who said I should move on. How do you expect me to do that if I fuck him?”

“How are you going to move on if you’re spending all your entire winter break pretending to be his girlfriend and lying to both of your families?” Wonwoo wonders with an amused look on his face.

You feel your face get hot, because yeah, it wasn't your best plan, and it did seem like it was a step backward in moving on, but details. “I’m just helping him! After this I’m going to go out and get a real boyfriend.”

Your friends share an unconvinced look. Seungcheol is the first to break the silence, signature deadpan expression in place. “So, acting out your fantasy of dating Minghao is going to help you get over him? Explain to us how that works.”

Now that it’s said out loud, you realize it sounds kind of stupid. Even so, you can’t very well tell Minghao that you don’t want to help him anymore. “Okay, so maybe it’s not the best plan, but since you guys are coming you have to help me so I don’t get too sucked into my role and expose myself.”

Your friends agree, but what you don’t realize is that they have a plan of their own to help you get what you want.

If your friends thought they were being subtle, they weren’t.

You noticed right away that they were nudging you and Minghao together. This was all under the excuse of helping you two get into your little act before reaching the small town you two grew up in. At first you didn’t say anything because you more than likely would’ve ended up sitting by Minghao anyway, but it was only until they started insisting you two hold on to each other and hold hands that you had enough.

As soon as Seungcheol pulled into the gas station and Minghao went inside with Wonwoo, you smacked the back of his and Josh’s heads. “What the fuck are you guys doing!?” You hiss, digging your nails into your palm.

Seungcheol glares at you, an expression of disbelief on his face. “You asked for our help! Doing all this cringy shit will turn you off from wanting to be in a relationship with Minghao!”

“And once you see how clueless he is at being in a relationship it’ll turn you off even more!” Josh chimes in as he rubs the back of his head.

Their words sound so utterly ridiculous and like a clear form of gaslighting. You don’t get a chance to say anything else because you see Wonwoo and Minghao on their way back.

“You guys aren’t helping so stop.” You hiss before the door is pulled open.

Luckily your friends say nothing as Minghao gets back into the car. You think that’s the end of it, but you’re very very wrong.

It’s not until you’re pulling into the driveway of the large cabin with two nosy families waiting outside that you belatedly realize that you’ve made a huge mistake.

You didn’t fully think out what helping Minghao really meant. Sure, you had known that you were going to be forced to confront Minghao’s nosy family, but you forgot to add your own prying family to the mix. You only hope that they don’t mention how you’ve been in love with your (fake) boyfriend for the two last decades.

You’re met with loud greetings, and soon enough dozens of people start to crowd the car as you all get off. It’s almost like you’re in a daze when you get pulled into ten different hugs in the span of thirty seconds, but it’s oddly comforting. Despite the situation, you had missed home and were happy to be back.

Somehow you manage to get away long enough to grab your things from the trunk. You’re hoping that everything goes smoothly as you start to make your way to the Xu family’s cabin, but as always, luck isn’t on your side.

“I got it, love.” Minghao says as he forcibly takes your bags from you, but not before pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

Vaguely, you recognize the loud shrieking of the children that saw your kiss and the cooing from the older women who loved young romance. But even through all that, you manage to see your idiot friends colluding with proud smirks on their faces.

Wonwoo is the one they send to approach you, but he expectedly doesn’t repent for what he and the two other fools clearly made happen. “If you plan on deceiving both of your families, you have to stop acting like you’ve never kissed Minghao before.”

With that, he gently pushes you to join everyone else inside. You can’t be fully angry because his words are infuriatingly true. Luckily for you, everyone seemed to be too caught up in the holiday cheer to notice your little slip up.

“Why didn’t you tell me you finally bagged my cousin!?”

You look over to see one of Minghao’s older cousins grinning at you. It’s a relief to see her because in all the madness, she was usually the voice of reason. That and she was the one who kept your hidden love a secret the longest out of everyone who knew.

“Sorry! It all happened so fast, and we didn’t want to say anything in case it didn’t work out—”

“Trust me, I get it. Remember when I had to tell everyone about Jun at my graduation?”

You both laugh as you recall the time she had dropped the atomic bomb that she was living with Minghao’s childhood best friend at her graduation party.

“How long are you going to be here until you finally say hello to your mother?”

Minghao’s cousin gives you a sympathetic wave goodbye as your mom pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. You snuggle into her familiar warmth, hoping her embrace can provide you with the comfort you’re suddenly needing.

“Why was I the last to find out you’re finally dating Minghao?” She demands straight away after you pull back.

You apologize profusely, repeating the same excuse you gave Minghao’s cousin. That seems to placate her—for now—but she does insist on hearing every last detail about how you two got together. It’s both relieving and nerve wracking.

“I’m sure you’re happy. You’ve liked him since he helped you back home when you fell on the sidewalk.” Your mom recalls with a smile. “That race car bandaid he put on the cut meant so much to you, remember? You wouldn’t let me replace it—”

“Mom.” You quietly stress, frantically looking around to see if anyone had heard her. “You better not mention any of that! I promise I’ll tell you everything later, but right now please don’t embarrass me!”

She only looks at you with an amused glint in her eye. “Fine, but you’ll have to have that conversation with him sooner or later.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was working with your no-good friends.

Your mom would’ve interrogated you further had it not been for the fact that she saw Joshua talking to Minghao’s mom. She barely told you she’d be back as she went straight for the boy who’d captured her heart back in your freshman year of college.

You slightly jump when a pair of arms gently wrap around you. Minghao’s cologne is engraved in your mind at this point, and you actually hate the fact that it comforts you.

“You have to act more natural.” His voice is teasing. “Otherwise everyone will think my love is one-sided.”

You manage to let out a weak laugh. It was clear that you were too in your head about the entire situation, and it was also clear that you were about to unintentionally reveal the feelings you’d worked so hard to hide.

“Just relax.” His lips brush the shell of your ear. “Moms are happy and busy trying to find out why sweet ol’ Shua still doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

The laugh you let out is louder and more genuine, and Minghao feels an intense warmth spread through his chest at the pretty sound. When you turn around in his arms to look straight at him, he wonders if this is all some lovely dream. If it is, he hopes he never has to wake up.

“Come on. Let’s go check out our room.”

He smiles broadly when he grabs your hand and let yourself be whisked away.

“You’re enjoying yourself a little too much.”

Minghao’s fond smile slowly slips off his face when he’s confronted by a smirking Seungcheol. He clears his throat and squints his eyes at his friend. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You hate ice skating.” Cheol points out. “But you’re having the time of your life just watching Y/N do it.”

He can’t deny this because there’s just something about the happy grin on your face as you beat Wonwoo and two of your cousins at a race around the rink for the fifth time that makes him feel an intense amount of affection and joy.

“She makes it look fun.” Minghao says honestly, not willing to reveal the other part why he feels so endeared.

Seungcheol hums, finding it extremely amusing how both you and Minghao were so unwilling to admit what was so obvious to everyone else. “I bet she’d have even more fun if you got out there with her.”

There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he hears his friend’s tone. At that moment, it becomes clear that Seungcheol is very much aware of what Minghao thought he’d been so good at hiding.

“Hao!” A comforting voice calls.

You’re gliding towards him with a bright smile on your face, and despite the nerves eating at his gut, he manages to return it.

“Come skate with me.”

It’s almost comedic how quick he is to obey your wish. He ignores the whistles and hollers from his friends as he literally clings on to you the second he’s on the ice. Your honeyed laugh is all that’s calming him at the moment since he’s feels like he might fall flat on his face on the hard ice.

“Don’t be so scared.” You say as you move at a snail's pace. “I won’t let you fall.”

Minghao’s heart starts pounding for an entirely different reason. Instead of staring down at his trembling legs, he’s focused on you and the warmth coming from your hands. Your grip tightens as you slowly increase your pace. It’s like you two are in your own little world as you laugh and glide around the ice.

You both are on a blissful high even when you return to the cabin. Surprisingly enough, it feels completely normal for you two to get into bed together, wrapped up in each other’s arms—just in case someone were to surprise you in the morning, of course.

There’s this natural domesticity between you two, but you’re just convinced that Minghao is just so desperate to get his family off his back that he’s putting his heart and soul into this act. It’s fine, well, it’s mostly fine. Even though everything up to this point has been fake, you’re still happy that you got to live out your deepest fantasy. Now you could move on, painful as it may be.

You try not to think about that as you walk into the holiday party hand in hand with Minghao.

The atmosphere is warm and welcoming like it is every year. You try to pretend that you don’t want to let go of Minghao’s hand when his mother steals you away to help her in the kitchen. This was it. You know she doesn’t really need your help when she asks you to neatly place the cookies she’s baked on a large plate. She’s called you in to question you about your relationship with her son. Honestly, you were surprised she hadn’t done it sooner.

“I’ve never seen my son so happy.” She begins, a gentle smile on her face. “I’m glad he finally made you his girlfriend. I thought he’d never confess his feelings.”

You wonder if Minghao’s mom is being serious, but then you remember who you’re talking to. She’s not the type to spare feelings, not even yours.

“Why’d you think that?”

“Honey, I love you, but you’re really oblivious sometimes.” She laughs fondly. “My son has liked you for a long time. Do you know how heartbroken he was when you started dating that Jihoon boy? I thought he’d never get over it.”

Lee Jihoon? As in the guy you dated two years ago?

“But I’m glad to see that you finally like him in the way he likes you.”

You try to keep a straight face as if your mind isn’t now overcrowded with unfiltered thoughts. The way your heart is pounding against your chest is almost dizzying. “I think I like him more than he likes me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Minghao’s mom says with a sly grin that you recognize all too well. “While we’re on the topic, let me enlighten you—”

Meanwhile, Minghao is busy with your mom. A similar conversation is taking place—so similar that anyone might’ve thought the two women had planned it.

“You don’t know how happy I am that you and Y/N are finally together.” Her warm smile makes him feel a bit guilty.

“Finally?” Minghao laughs curiously.

“Yes, finally. I was starting to think you’d never return my daughter’s feelings.”

Minghao feels his heart pounding and his head swimming almost like he’s suddenly disoriented. Surely there’s no way your mom could be implying that…?

“You didn’t?”

Oblivious to Minghao’s sudden shift in attitude, your mom keeps talking. “Y/N has always loved you. I think it started around the time you moved into the neighborhood all those years ago. She would go around saying how she wanted to marry you.”

Minghao is physically unable to say anything, but that doesn’t matter to your mom. She carries on like he’s not on the verge of imploding.

“I remember how devastated she was when you took Chaeyoung to prom instead of her. She had turned down that nice boy from her math class because she hoped you would ask her. I’ve never seen her cry so much.”

Your mom sounds like she’s fondly recalling the past, but Minghao feels like he suddenly can’t breathe. The memory is vivid in his mind now. You hadn’t gone even when he insisted that you could go with him and Chaeyoung. Back then he had believed you when you told him you didn’t feel like going.

“Anyway, I’m glad you finally returned her feelings.”

“Yeah.” Minghao says feeling completely winded. “Me too.”

There’s an unspoken tension when you and Minghao get back to the cabin. You’re sure it’s purely because of you and what his mom had said. It’s obvious that you’re too in your head because you can tell your friend feels tense.

“What did my mom tell you?”

The question startles you out of your tormenting thoughts. You awkwardly stutter, wondering if you should lie or not. “I– Well—”

Minghao is staring at you intently, and you know there’s no point in lying to him.

“She told me that she’s happy you finally confessed to me.” Your voice isn’t as strong as you wish so you cover it up with a laugh. “I guess I was worried for nothing. She thinks you actually like me.”

It’s silent for a moment before Minghao speaks, serious as ever. “I do like you.”

You wish you could play his words off like they meant nothing, but you had been waiting literal years to hear him say those three little words, and you can’t pretend to be unaffected by them.

“I’ve liked you for a long time.” Minghao says as he slowly approaches you.

He’s standing directly in front of you now, and you’re not sure how to react. His eyes are shining with unadulterated affection as he waits for your response. Your head is spinning, but you still manage to answer him.

“I’ve liked you longer.”

Your face burns with embarrassment. It’s not like you meant to say that, but your nerves got the best of you. It doesn’t matter though because Hao seems to love it. His grin is full of endearment.

“Long enough to want to marry me?” He teases lightly.

Apparently, neither of your moms had any actual intention of keeping your embarrassing secrets. You soldier on and try to pretend you’re not mortified that your mom exposed you.

“I don’t know. I can’t marry someone who doesn’t know how to please me.”

His eyes darken instantly, and you hold back a smirk at how easily that worked him up. By now, Minghao has gotten so close that you can see every last detail on his face.

You’re not sure who makes the first move, but it hardly matters because Minghao’s lips are so soft, and the way he’s kissing you makes you feel like you’re floating. The way he pulls you closer while shoving his tongue in your mouth is dizzying.

Everything happens so fast. Before you know it clothes are being ripped off in between messy, wet kisses. You two fall on the bed, naked bodies pressing against each other with a passionate need. Minghao pulls back and cups your cheek tenderly. He affectionately bumps his nose against yours before he kisses you again.

Minghao’s hands feel hot as they trail down your body. His long fingers trail over your every curve, hands pressing against your breasts, pulling lightly at your nipples until he has you moaning into his mouth. It’s his favorite sound, he decides. He can’t contain his grin as he continues kneading your tits.

“Hao.” You mewl when his lips start to wander down your neck, affectionately tracing along your jaw and the column of your throat.

His dark hooded eyes are so pretty when they look up at you. Minghao only offers you an impish grin before he wraps his lips around your hard bud and sucks hard. He licks and bites around your nipple until you’re writhing underneath him, an intense heat building between your thighs as you tug at his hair. His dark strands are even messier than usual when he pulls off your nipple, but not before leaning down to press one more kiss to the soft curve of your tit.

Minghao trails his fingers down your sides, his teasing smirk back in place. “Want me to fuck you?”

There are times you hate his teasing nature. He must know how bad you want him since you’re literally dripping all over the sheets. However, since you’re so desperate, you’re not beneath begging.

“I need you to fuck me.” You say, not the slightest bit embarrassed.

There’s a slight pause where something in the atmosphere shifts to something more heavy.

Now Minghao’s gaze is heavy with affection as his thumb caresses your cheek. “I wasn’t completely honest before. What I feel for you... it’s more than that.” Minghao swallows deeply, feeling like his heart jumped into his throat. “I love you.”

His abrupt confession warms you up from the inside out. You can literally feel your entire chest be overcome with deep, unadulterated love as he nudges the fat tip of his cock against your fluttering cunt.

You wrap your arms around his slim waist and gently pull him closer, silently urging him to shove his dick inside you. “I love you too, Hao.”

The words are whispered against his lips before you capture them in an intimate kiss. You both swallow each other’s moans as he finally eases his thick cock into your dripping pussy.

Minghao lets out a gasp as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. He starts to press hot, open mouthed kisses against your skin, loving the little whimpers and moans you’re letting out. His cock is stretching you out, and it feels like you might fall apart as his fingers trail down your body to rub your clit. Minghao rubs you deliciously as he keeps easing into you.

Pleasure licks up Minghao’s cock when your hot cunt clamps down on him like it never wants to let him go. He hisses at your choked mewl, loving how you seem to melt into his touch.

“So tight, baby.” Minghao’s words are slightly slurred.

You moan wantonly when he finally shoves the remainder of his thick cock inside your welcoming cunt. Already, you’re gushing around him. His entire length and heavy balls are coated with your arousal as he finally settles deep inside you.

The feeling of your velvety walls sucking in his fat cock has Minghao groaning against you. His arms slide underneath you and wrap around your waist to lift your hips and pull you tighter against him. Minghao’s soft lips trail against your skin as he starts to fuck into you, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot.

You’re both entranced with each other, and at some point you two look down to watch where Minghao’s cock fucks into you. The pretty moans and whimpers spilling from your lips only spur him on, wanting to hear you as much as possible since this still feels like a beautiful dream to him.

“God,” you moan when he gives a particularly sharp thrust. “Feels so fucking good.”

Minghao’s hand grabs the underside of your knee and lifts your leg over his hip at your words. You both moan loudly because the new angle has his cock going impossibly deeper. Right then he knows that he won’t ever get sick of the feeling of your tight pussy milking him.

“Fuck, baby. I’ll never get enough of you.” Minghao moans as he leans down to kiss you again.

The feeling of his lips pressed against your as his cock drills into you makes you feel drunk. Minghao feels like he’s slowly unraveling with that way you start to fuck your hips up to meet his thrusts. Your creamy cunt clamping down on him has him fucking into you harder.

It’s safe to say Minghao is obsessed with every last bit of you. The way your body feels pressed against his, the pretty sounds you let out, the feeling of your warm wet cunt squeezing him like it wants every last drop of his cum.

You moan louder when you feel your legs being spread apart. Minghao is roughly fucking into you at a savage pace now, his weeping tip slamming against your sweet spot with every thrust. He loves how your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as your thigh tremble and shake. Your sweet cunt is spasming around his dick, and he knows it won’t be long until you’re creaming all over him.

A sense of urgency suddenly overcomes Minghao. To see you falling apart under him would be a dream come true, and he’s just that much more motivated to make it a reality. His next touches are sensual and tender, fingers caressing your clit over and over as his cock fucks into you and works you open.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to gush all over him. The sight of your head thrown back with your mouth dropped open to let out a blissful moan of his name is addicting. Minghao wants your fucked out expression imprinted in his mind. He doesn’t stop his motions because the feeling of you coming on his dick is absolute heaven.

Your mind is still fuzzy from your orgasm, but you’re lucid enough to see the purest form of love in his honeyed eyes. “Fuck. I love you so much.”

Your words have him stilling his hips, head falling to the crook of your neck as he comes hard. Minghao cries out your name, voice thick with affection. You smooth over your hair as you whisper gentle praises in his ear. He ruts inside you in pleasure as his hot cum fills you to the brim, showing you exactly just how much love he has for you.

After a moment, Minghao pulls his face out of your neck to look down at you. Unadulterated joy and ecstasy covers his face as he takes you in as if for the first time all over again. Your expression is no different, all the repressed emotions you held for him on full display now.

Minghao grinds into you one more times, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of his cum being fucked back inside of you. He leans forward, lips brushing against the soft flesh of your cheek. “I love you more than anything.”

He collapses by your side, cock still nestled inside you. The words make your heart flutter as you tug him impossibly closer and nuzzle against him.

“I love you too, Hao. Forever and always.”

Your sleepy smile makes him press a kiss to your forehead. Minghao watches as your eyes slowly close before tightening his hold on you. He can’t believe this is all real and not just a figment of his deepest desires, but as you unconsciously snuggle deeper into him, he knows that he’ll never be happier than he is now, with you.

It’s his last peaceful thought as he falls asleep with you in his arms.

“This is your fault.” Josh glares at Seungcheol who is trying but failing to eat his cereal in peace.

“You’re the one who went along with the plan which clearly worked.”

The loud moans filling the cabin are sickening, and they wonder if they’ve played themselves by helping you and Minghao confess to each other.

“Wonwoo isn’t bothered.” Seungcheol says as he nods his head to the catlike guy who’s sitting on the couch, staring at his phone.

“You know he’s wearing noise canceling earphones, right?” Josh scoffs.

Now Seungcheol feels really stupid because it was clear that they really had played themselves. And all because you and Minghao had to take your relationship at a glacial pace.

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[mokulule]

Ghastly Glacial Goodies

What is this Moku? Another AU? Yep, sorry not sorry. It's cute okay! I'm gonna be doing illustrations and stuff. Also ice cream, who doesn't love ice cream? I blame this like 70% on @clockwaysarts cause they were playing around with a blob popsicle design (a blobsicle XD) and this thing spawned. Thanks to the people who took part in brainstorming on the Dead on Main server.

Chapter 1 - Polaris

The evening was dreary that day. Jason couldn’t tell you what had made him want to take a pre-patrol walk of all things. The light drizzle wasn’t terrible, but he’d been out so long his hair was plastered wetly to his forehead. The sun hadn’t quite gone down yet, but the clouds stole a lot of the light. A white mist had rolled in from the bay, softening the corners of buildings, and it almost made the world feel unreal. It dampened the sounds of the city and echoed his steps.

That was when he heard it, like little bells or a music box, a haunting tune. He frowned and followed the beckoning sound. He knew that melody, though it played a bit slow. What was the name again? He walked, unknowingly matching the notes as they slowly gained speed. A sense of urgency rose in his chest. He turned a corner and froze, stunned.

In the light from a hazy streetlight was an ice cream truck.

In this weather? Jason’s befuddled brain protested as he took in the downright baffling sight of the truck and the surprisingly many customers in line as well as the groups of people chatting and smiling eating ice cream in the rain.

The truck was all soft rounded edges with minty green accents, a cartoon ghost that looked as surprised as Jason felt with wide eyes and a mouth in an o decorated the side of the truck beside the counter. A quaint canopy stretched out over the counter. Its white and pastel pink stripes ended in festive tapered triangles which looked more at home at a fair, than some random street in Gotham. Apropos Jason looked up trying to figure out where he was, but didn’t find any street signs, just the sign telling him this street was a dead end.

The music was still playing, pleasant bells clinging softly. It didn’t feel so urgent now. He remembered the song suddenly: In the Hall of the Mountain King. A strange song for an ice cream truck, Jason thought as he walked to the back of the line. In the play wasn’t it for when Peer Gynt was escaping the mountain? That seemed in a way like the opposite of what an ice cream truck should signal. But then again as long as people recognized the song that would draw them in anyway. It was still a very impressive line for the weather.

The line moved slowly but steadily. The happy chatter was like a comforting blanket of background noise and Jason felt his shoulders slowly relax. He reached a sign that showed off various shaped ice creams on sticks in the shape of what looked like cartoon people and a happy green… blob? with red eyes called a blobsicle. It was a ghost Jason suddenly realized, of course that was the theme going by the truck.

Polaris the sign said in big swirly letters and then underneath in a smaller type it said “Ghastly Glacial Goodies” - someone had really wanted the alliteration there, Jason thought bemused. That person might be the young man behind the counter who just wished a girl and her mother a good night, before turning to the last person before Jason. I was hard to judge the man’s height since he was inside the truck, but he struck Jason as short, he was on the slender side an impression only enhanced by the formfitting green striped west and the way he whipped around inside the truck filling the newest order.

Apparently the current customer was buying for his friends, there had been pointing to a waving group standing a few yards away. It gave Jason another moment to ponder his options. The glass shield had stickers on it detailing the various scoopable options - they included such gems as Booberry, Spookistacchio and Rum and Raising, which had a small cartoon zombie on its sticker. Jason felt almost like he could have stayed there all day chuckling over all the silly puns, they had certainly committed to the bit.

Finally the last order was handed over with a wide smile. The ice cream guy exuded such a genuine warmth, that had nothing to do with the actual temperature - in fact it was really cold Jason noted as he sniffled to stop his nose from running.

Finally ice cream guy, Danny his name tag said, faced Jason in his classic ice cream man glory; striped vest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows he even had a silly little hat in his unruly black hair, it was a miracle it stayed on.

Danny looked a bit startled to see him, but then his smile was back and he leaned on the counter slightly to be eye level with Jason. Jason felt his breath hitch just slightly in his throat; It was almost like those blue eyes sparkled like stars.

“Why hello there, haven’t seen you around Polaris before.”

Jason shook himself out of it, grasping for something to say in return, what popped into his head was the oddity of the music, what came out was, “So are you the Troll King?”

For a moment everything was silent, then Danny burst out laughing. Hand over his mouth, he leaned on the counter. His shoulders shook as he tried to contain his snickering.

“You-“ he lost control and laughed, “are the first person” - more laughing - “to remark on the music.”

The laughter was infectious and Jason found himself chuckling. His cheeks hurt slightly from smiling. He wasn’t sure when he’d last smiled this much.

Danny finally gained control over his laughter. He peeked up at Jason through his fingers from where he was practically lying over the counter.

“Not quite the Troll King,” he snickered again before straightening up and gesturing around himself “but welcome to my castle of ghastly glacial goodies.”

“Did you have to think hard on that one?”

Danny’s face turned mock serious. “You have no idea, there were even thesauruses involved.” Then in a lower voice he added to himself, “violent little bastards.”

“What was that?” Jason said, not sure he heard that right.

“Never mind,” Danny smiled, “so what can I do for you? You’re my last customer of the night.”

Jason frowned confused and looked around. To his shock, somehow everyone had left without him even noticing, it was just him, Danny and the truck in the lamplight. He had to be really off his game tonight maybe he was coming down with a cold. He sniffled again and saw Danny frown worriedly. Ice cream wasn’t suitable for the wet weather, but it seemed silly to have stood in line and not get any.

“Do you have any recommendations?”

“Well, all ice cream is made by yours truly so I can’t really pick a favorite, but bloop of the month is Rum and Raising.”

Of course it was the zombie one, wait-

“Bloop?”

“Yeah instead of scoops? I was told it was cuter than gloops.”

Jason blinked.

“Here let me show you.” Danny grabbed a cone and expertly swirled the ice cream scoop round his fingers once before scooping up a mostly round ball of Rum and Raising and plopping it in the cone, he then considered for moment before adding another scoop, this time of “Cosmic Crunch”. He then pressed four small round red gummies into the ice cream, two on each “bloop” and held it out for Jason to inspect and huh, they had eyes now - a bit similar to the Blobsicle actually, except these were stacked on top of each other. It was a kinda cute idea, kids probably loved it.

Jason took the ice cream.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Four dollars, and this is on the house.“ He pushed a cardboard cup of steaming coffee towards Jason on the counter. “That will bring back a bit of life to you, you’re looking a bit ghastly.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Jason rolled his eyes, but he was feeling pretty cold and he sniffled again as he found the money and put it on the counter next to the cup. “But thanks anyway.”

“Have a good night.” Danny smiled warmly and Jason couldn’t help but smile in return. He lifted the cup as a salute and turned around to walk away. He took a small sip and instantly felt warmth spread in his chest. That really hit the spot. He kept sipping at the coffee until a drip of melted ice cream hit his fingers and reminded him of the ice cream.

Oh yeah, he had paid for this.

He licked at the droplet and quickly followed it back up the cone to make sure there would be no more dripping. Cosmic crunch he quickly discovered was hazelnut with lots of crunchy nuts and he didn’t really know how to classify the rest. There was something indefinably delicious about it. Yes, it was all the things ice cream should be, creamy, smooth, rich, but there was something more. Like something he never knew he needed. Before he realized it he was down to the last bits and biting into the cone. Only a few more bites and it was gone.

That was-

It was easily the most delicious ice cream he ever had, but not only that; he felt sated, calm and almost floaty. Was the ice cream drugged? Alarmed at the thought, he spun around, but all that met him was a long empty street with no ice cream truck in sight.

Had he really walked that far already?

He would track down the ice cream truck later. He looked at his phone, it was almost midnight. How odd… He must have stood in line longer than he thought. No patrol was happening tonight, he realized with a yawn. He was much too tired.

The walk to his apartment was a blur, and it felt like it was only a couple of steps until he fell over on top of his bed, clothes and all. Everything was so fuzzy and nice.

Jason slept with no nightmares.

-

Okay, so this is definitely a small back burner project I'm working on, so don't expect any regular-ish updates, they are gonna happen when they happen. And now that I've gotten that out of my system I can hopefully focus writing the next bit for Catnip.

[sonic-wildfire]

Sonic's Gameplay

(Art, designs, and “fear state” concepts courtesy of @/irkiem)

Sonic Icebound is a psychological survival horror game with action and platforming elements. It is played primarily from the first-person perspective by default, though the player has the option to switch to third-person. At the beginning of the game, Sonic’s map is only marked with his location at the South Pole and the location of the evacuation site. He has 72 in-game hours (roughly eight hours in real time) to reach the site before Tails arrives there. A small circular zone surrounding Sonic’s initial spawn point serves as a tutorial for the player to get used to the controls and mechanics.

Interested in learning more about Sonic Icebound? Visit this document to read up!

Further information on Sonic's gameplay below the cut:

Unlike other Sonic games, rings are not used as health or energy. Instead, Sonic has a fixed health meter; he can heal himself passively over time but the rate of replenishing is slow. Alternatively, first-aid kits can be found in some man-made structural remains and heal Sonic faster (Sonic may also find an unused disposable syringe in the kit that he can use independent of the rest of the kit). There is an increased chance of injury when some actions (e.g. sprinting) are performed. Sonic dies if the health meter reaches zero, resulting in a game over; the player is sent back to their most recent save point (or to the start of the game if no save point had been reached prior to death).

Throughout the game, Sonic’s intense survival mentality makes him an unreliable narrator; among other things, he often hears sounds which have no traceable source and are of an indiscernible nature, and the pitch-black night gradually increases his anxiety, thinking he sees hostile entities in his peripheral vision where there may be none. Nonetheless, there are dangers that threaten Sonic. They are mainly geological hazards, such as deep sub-glacial lakes covered with snow and/or thin sheets of ice or tall mountains with unforgiving terrain. Some hazards are meteorological, such as sudden inclement weather. If Sonic’s health meter is less than half-full, he will descend into a fear state in which he will not be able to use the first-aid kits, syringes, or radio. He will be given greater acceleration during the time he is in this fear state, at the sacrifice of reduced attack power and increased risk of injury. Although rings cannot be normally used to replenish Sonic’s health, collecting 15 rings will bring Sonic out of the fear state.

(for @sonic-au-collision)

[darsynia]

Dragonfly (Steve/Reader fantasy AU)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary:  Evil has prevailed. Your mentor’s dead, home destroyed, family scattered--you’re all that is left. At the last second, a stranger is called by magic to save your life. Can the two of you defeat the villain before he reaches the pinnacle of power?

Words/Warnings: 4,700 | canon-typical violence

draGONfly is 3/7 of my birthday gift set for @ronearoundblindly and is an action/adventure, angst with a happy ending story set after the blip. I know right now is a hugely busy week for you, Ro, and there's no pressure to respond right now, they'll all be here when you have time!

NOTE: it's MCU Steve in here! 'Worlds Collide'

Excerpt:

“You’re afraid,” Steve says from only feet away.

You close your eyes. “Yes.”

“Sometimes fear is a friend. It was definitely that in the army. Kept us sharp. You could tell when a soldier lost his fear because he was suddenly very brave. Problem was, we needed the brave ones sometimes.” 

He falls silent, and you can’t help but look at him. The bleak look in his eyes is clear, despite the distance between you, and in that moment you decide to trust him. If he’s another monster construct, if Micht can understand you that well, then the villain deserves the win, and all is lost.

Dragonfly

You’ve been on the run for ten days, with no safe haven to look forward to. The magic hunting you is relentless, fueled by hatred of your now-dead mentor and everything the two of you stood for. Your only reprieve is sleep; your enemy wants to witness the horror on your face in your moment of death.

All you can do is forge a path deeper into the forest, away from any innocent who could be harmed by Jovann Micht’s conjured creatures. As if watching Bram die hadn’t been torture enough, it seems you’re destined to die in the wilderness, alone.

You lean back on a tree and risk a pause to drink from your flask. Deep inside you feel your magic tremble; rest, food, and hydration is needed to stay powerful, but that is the point of Micht’s pursuit. Eventually you’ll falter, and he’ll achieve the last of his goals.

Does he know you bear the vial of his destruction? Those few teaspoonfuls are a potent culmination of your mentor’s study of the arcane, a life’s work of gathering and refining the most dangerous, mystical ingredients and combining them to make a weapon. You’d been able to see just two of the substances interact before being sealed into the final mixture, and the light they’d emitted had lingered in your vision for almost an hour afterwards.

There are three ways this can end: ideally, you’ll pour the vial into the glacial source of the valley’s drinking water and let the power propagate amongst the population Jovann Micht means to control. If that fails, you might be forced to break the vial with your dying strength, spilling its beautiful potential into the ground rather than empower one of Micht’s monsters-- or Micht himself.

The worst, most horrible option is for you to drink it yourself and spend the rest of your life battling to control the power Bram Ersk warned you about.

Heavy buzzing nearby sends your adrenaline racing, but it’s only a dragonfly angling its way past you toward the stream you've been following up to the mountains. They’re your favorite insect, brightly colored and free, with wide wings that decorate tree branches too delicate for a human’s weight.

You tuck away your canteen and check to see that your weapons are ready. The bow and arrows had only served to slow you down, so you’d sent them towards the plains with a burst of precious magic, a misdirection that hadn’t worked. Bram’s sword is cumbersome but necessary, and the daggers scattered through your clothing are a last resort.

Seconds later your preparedness pays off. The barest rustling of the leaves above your head has you crouching down with one leg stretched out for leverage if you need to run. You draw a dagger from its sheath at your back and watch in fascinated horror as your newest attacker reveals itself.

It’s a huge snake, fast and menacing. It strikes out and you dodge sideways, performing a half-roll to distance yourself, dagger still at the ready. Smoke rises from a splash of venom on your padded trousers, and a stab of fear strikes your gut. The snake can spit, likely with magic-enhanced distance. Is this how you finally die? Worn down with nowhere to hide from this acid toxin, then slain once exhaustion drops you?

You curl into a protective stance and tighten your grip on the dagger, drawing the creature in. Once it’s close, you spin up from the ground in a flurry of slashing blades. One dagger connects, but it’s glancing, enough to send the snake into retreat, but not enough to kill.

That only makes things worse. Your field of danger has increased to include the entire forest canopy.

There may only be a few minutes before the next showdown. You wipe your dagger on the nearby moss and place it back in its sheath for now. The forest around you is new growth, full of brambles and other scutgrass that tear at your armor, with a hundred branches arching over your head. You fight your way through to the stream with fear choking your throat, worried that you’ll have to expend more of your depleted magical energy to save yourself. If you need to use magic to survive his enchanted attackers from this point on, there won't be anything left. 

You’ve kept that power in reserve for some kind of final showdown, but there's at least a day left before you get where you're going.

Despair hits, and you scrabble at your neck, suddenly furious at the friend and mentor whose plans have brought you to such misery. The locket he’d given you has always been a talisman, a symbol of hope, but now you look at its silver concentric circles and feel nothing but betrayal.

Movement catches your eye, and you swing out blindly, the locket flying from your grip. As it spins, a blinding golden light spills out, growing larger and brighter until finally a figure steps forth--just as Micht’s devil-snake launches directly at you.

“Down!” a voice commands, and you drop, watching in shock as the glowing figure hurls a disk through the magical snake. The horrid thing lands in pieces that immediately shrivel and writhe. They melt into the ground, leaving only a low-lying, putrid fog behind.

The man stalks towards you, still obscured by the now-fading golden light. Instead of finishing you off, he strides past and pulls his disc-- his shield-- free from the tree it had sliced into. When he turns back your way, the man tucks something into a pouch on his chest, and the glowing light diminishes enough to see him. He looks you over, brows furrowed not in anger, but obvious confusion.

“Are you all right?”

“Thank you,” you say, struck near-dumb by the imposing presence of the man. He’s tall and broad, handsomely clad in padded armor with leather accents, but it’s his shield that has your attention. Its concentric circles and inner star look just like Bram’s locket, but in color.

He seems self-conscious about it, spinning the shield around and attaching it to his armor at his back. “Was that-- did I interrupt some kind of re-enactment?” your savior asks, curiously examining the last remnants of the toxic fog. He turns to look at you with the same studious intensity, but your head is spinning. Did Bram conjure this man with some sort of latent magic? “You should sit down,” he declares, thrusting out his hand with the confidence of a commander. The man clearly wants you to take it, but your hesitation prompts him to give up and walk over to a cluster of rocks. “Here. Do you have something to eat?”

Bemused, you pick your way toward him, deflecting your ‘I usually have to forage for something to eat’ answer with a question of your own. “What’s your name, hero?”

The word turns up a shy little smile that flies like a joy-tipped arrow right through your chest armor. “Steve. Yours?”

“Well, Steve, you’ve shown up for a battle, but I’m still fighting a war.” There’s no more time for niceties. You walk past the rocks he’d suggested you rest on, and pick up a sturdy-looking walking stick. It’s safer to stay close to the stream, and you’ll need the stability. “You’re welcome to come?”

There’s a chance that this summoned savior will disappear soon. You only have so much physical strength left, and you can’t spend it like this.

Steve turns in a circle, taking in the trees, the stream, and you, then nods, squaring his shoulders. “All right.” He certainly doesn’t seem at ease here, and you wonder if he’s real, whether he was somewhere fighting with that shield of his before Bram’s magic plucked him away.

Truthfully, you’re afraid to ask, as if naming the magic will destroy its cohesion.

Instead you lead the way along the uneven stones and brush that edge the stream, and he follows in clearly baffled silence. Sometimes you pause to adjust your armor or fill up your canteen and catch his brow furrow as he looks around at your surroundings. Once, he lunged forward to steady your steps on a slippery stretch of rocks. The warmth of his hand through your many layers was enough to bring rare tears to your eyes.

It's been so long since you’ve been touched in comfort.

Steve sees the tears but can’t know their context. You’re not willing to tell him, so you speed your pace, and he remains silent. If he’s been summoned as support, you question what triggers the magic might use to determine you’re no longer in need. If it’s words shared, you’ll hold yours in reserve. If it’s help provided, you’ll labor beside him with every ounce of your remaining strength until you finally ask for that help. If it’s distance traveled… well, you can’t think about that now.

Countless birdcalls and shared silence later, the landscape starts angling up more, and the trees thin out.

“Oh,” Steve says. His stunned tone makes you stop and look back at him. “I came to the forest--a forest to retrace my steps, looking for the echoes of what we lost. I didn’t want to. I didn’t know what I’d do if I found that the dust of my lost friends had fertilized plants that their shadows never--” he faltered, and you make your way to him, powerless to help, desperate to try. 

You recognize this grief. It's the hopeless kind, where a person just stands desolate in the aftermath and looks for the signs of their own death.

“Steve--” 

“It’s not the same forest,” he interrupts, a catch in his voice. “That’s a mountain.” He tears his eyes from the now-revealed peak in the distance and looks at you, concern and an odd sort of exhilaration in his eyes. “I kept walking because I thought we’d eventually get where you’re going, but we won’t, will we? Not today. Where am I? When am I?”

“‘When’ is easy: my waking nightmare. ‘Where’ is tricky. Who’s to know you won’t be pulled back where you came from if I tell you?” You can’t keep the bitter fear from your voice.

Steve steps forward to look down at you with gentle kindness. He’s so handsome you can’t help but feel self-conscious, clad as you are in shapeless armor, sweating with the exertion of carrying Bram’s sword (actually heavy) and Bram’s vial (metaphorically heavy)-- but you drift closer to your unexpected savior, catching the earthy scent of his sweat. You can see the sheen of it on his forehead, and you lift your hand to draw a finger across and feel the moisture of it.

“You’re real,” you breathe, surprised despite the snake, despite his steady presence behind you for this stretch of your journey.

He moves his hand to touch the drops of freshwater that have spilled from your canteen, going as far as to taste the tip of his finger. “So are you.” As though realizing that’s an intimacy the two of you haven’t agreed on, he steps back and squares his shoulders, the picture of a warrior again, despite his lack of weapon. Perhaps he is the weapon. “So what’s the plan? Camp for the night?”

You sway on your feet at the thought (both that he’d put aside his own situation and at the idea of rest), but shake your head. “Micht will send something else soon. I must reach the base of the stream. Everything relies on that.”

He looks askance at the darkening sky, then back at you. “What would make you willing to camp?”

A promise that you won’t leave me! you scream in your mind. A look of determination crosses his face, and you realize you may not have spoken the words aloud, but your body language has done that for you. You pull in a breath to prevaricate, but he brushes past you, headed into the forest.

“There’s a clearing,” he calls out, a minute later.

“Steve, I can’t--”

“You can.”

A terrible, insidious, horrid thought crosses your mind: that Steve is not from Bram at all, but an illusion with the same purpose as all the others that Jovann Micht has sent you. That his attack is formed from trust this time, rather than fear.

The shape of Bram’s locket is the only thing you can think of to refute your fears, but couldn’t Micht have torn that knowledge from Bram before killing him?

“You’re afraid,” Steve says from only feet away.

You close your eyes. “Yes.”

“Sometimes fear is a friend. It was definitely that in the army. Kept us sharp. You could tell when a soldier lost his fear because he was suddenly very brave. Problem was, we needed the brave ones sometimes.” 

He falls silent, and you can’t help but look at him. The bleak look in his eyes is clear, despite the distance between you, and in that moment you decide to trust him. If he’s another monster construct, if Micht can understand you that well, then the villain deserves the win, and all is lost.

Steve can hold a lot of supplies in his ‘tek’ suit, as he calls it. He gives you a few dense grain bread things, full of dried fruit and nuts that revitalize you. While you eat he lights a fire for the two of you, meaning you can save your newly bolstered energy rather than using it for warmth-- and best of all, he has a strange silver blanket that seems to hold heat so much better than anything you’ve used at night, even the homemade blankets from your cabin. Despite all this, you find it hard to relax, and Steve can tell. You are reluctant to explain and thus relive the trauma that sent you into the forest, and he doesn’t elaborate on his own.

He seems surprised when you want to sleep right away. That surprise morphs to a quiet, concerned anger when you explain the thin agreement you have with your aggressor, that he’ll only kill you when you’re awake.

“That won’t happen,” he declares, and you believe him. Just like a parent who promises they’ll always protect you, his words have an unspoken caveat; ‘for as long as I’m here to stop it.’

It’s enough.

You wake with the light, finding to your surprise that Steve has slept at your side, his broad back acting as a wall between you and the dangers of the woods. It’s been a week since you’ve been able to lay still in the morning, but your respite is marred by a large worry: why hasn’t Micht sent something else? Had he sent his most fearsome conjurations early on in your journey because you’d been stronger? It would be like him to conserve his energy and insult you at the same time. If you die to something more mundane, that would just add to his narrative, after all. The alternative is that he knows about Steve, and his new plan is to create something fearsome enough to destroy them both.

“You’re barely breathing,” Steve rumbles.

Selfishly, you want him to turn over. You want a memory to cherish when he’s gone. Just once, you'd had someone lying beside you whose sole purpose was to ensure your safety.

He does roll over. He’s no less real for it, and that thought lets you release everything you’d held back since Bram, since the village, since the slain, tortured lamb that was the harbinger of all the horrors that followed.

Wordlessly, Steve pulls you to his chest and lets you cry.

The next attack comes within sight of the glacial moraine. You were right. Micht had sent his worst to finish you. 

Steve pulls his shield from his back as soon as you pass through a group of boulders and see the creature. It’s twice as tall as he is, a four-legged monstrosity with the same number of snarling heads. Each serpent-like head is riddled with teeth, and like snakes, they bob and weave easily, able to turn and react with lightning swiftness.

“Your sword, please,” Steve says grimly.

“It’s armored--”

“So am I.”

Adrenaline mixes with the magic surging inside you. “Listen. I have a thing to do. It’s all that matters,” you tell him breathlessly. “After that, I don’t care what happens. Do you hear me?”

He’s looking at the creature, and you can see his soldier’s mind. You watch the fear dwindle, replaced by bravery, and you cannot let that happen.

“Steve!” you beg-- and he looks at you, still alert and ready to fight. “This was always going to end one way, okay? I just need you to--” The thing screeches with many voices, each wielding a knife that slices away some of your resolve.

You swallow hard and start taking off any extra weight, dropping your canteen, the sheathed dagger at your back, even the heavy brigandine leather that covers your blouse. It isn’t a match for a hydra’s teeth and claws anyway, and you must be fast.  

“I need to get to the base of the stream. That monster is here to stop me.” It probably isn’t. If Micht knew you bear this potion, he’d have long ago crushed you into paste and taken it for himself. “Don’t you dare lose your fear!”

Steve laughs ruefully. “I wondered if you would remember that.”

“Something sent you to me, and this is why. If there’s any justice, it should send you back, once I succeed.” The words stick in your throat, but you get them out.

“It’s a hydra,” Steve says with a hatred in his voice you didn’t think he was capable of. “I was created for this.”

You both turn to face the horrible creature. Steve lifts the sword and you ready yourself to run.

“Wait,” Steve says, a manic happiness in his eyes. He steps close and dips his head, kissing you. It’s awkward, with the sword and shield held wide at his sides, but that just makes it more real. “Go get him.”

Then he charges toward the beast.

You’d planned to wait until the two were fully focused on each other, but every fragment of magic in your body is screaming for you to help Steve. You tamp that down and hold still, certain that the hydra will only focus on Steve if bloodlust blinds it to your existence.

That’s even harder when there are multiple sets of eyes to look for you.

Steve makes first contact, roaring up and smashing his shield against the first head that lunges toward him. The thing reels back in obvious surprise, the injured head lolling to the side. The other heads rear up, and you take the moment to run far to the side, sticking to the treeline, even though it means farther to run. You weave between trees, catching glimpses of the battle but always hearing it. Screech follows screech follows the smash of metal against armored skin, over and over and over.

Just as you’re forced to cross into the rockfield, the hydra lets out an agonized scream, and you risk a look over. Steve’s holding his shield protectively above himself as he hacks at the two heads he’d sliced from the hydra. He’s panting from exertion, and as you watch, magic bubbles at the sliced necks, growing two new snarling heads from each stump. They sink down to the body of the beast and then stretch back out as individual, fully-realized necks right in front of your eyes.

You can’t send any power to Steve, not yet. Instead, you send it to your own legs, and the burst of resulting speed tears through the remaining distance. You reach into your shirt--

“You could have given it to me right away, foolish child.”

“Liar!” you spit at your enemy, furious and fragile. “You wanted this.” Of course he’d known. Micht had always loved theatrics.

“You’re right. That’s quite a guardian you’ve found for yourself,” Jovann Micht muses, leaning casually back against a large boulder. He’s standing between you and the stream.

You’re done with this. One way or another.

“Move.”

“I don’t think so.” He moves towards you, confident, commanding. “Hand it over.”

Behind you, the screeching gets louder, and oddly, Micht stumbles sideways, hissing. You risk a look over your shoulder and see that Steve’s sliced off more of the creature-- a leg this time. It brings the deadly heads closer to him, and you can’t watch.

Micht has conjured a walking stick that he’s now leaning on with a vicious look of delight on his face. “I prefer an intelligent adversary.”

He doesn’t mean you.

He’s always underestimated you. Everyone does.

Your fingers close around a vial, and you pull it free. It’s been shaken up by your headlong run, as evidenced by the blue glowing light.

“If you want this, you have to catch me.”

Your burst of speed still sings in your veins, and you start to run-- toward the hydra, not the stream. Gathering up all of your magic, you hurl it toward the back legs of the hydra, meaning to destroy them and hopefully disable Micht, if your hunch about the connection between them is correct.

The fireball hits home. The ground shakes as the terrible beast falls sideways, all seven heads turning to assess the damage. One catches fire, its agonized scream piercing your ears even at this distance. You can’t see Steve, but the desperate flailing of the inflamed head soon spreads the fire. 

You hook around, satisfied. Micht is in a heap not far from where you’d left him, recognizable by his signature blood-red suit. All that’s left is to get as close to the headwaters as you can. Bram had confided in you about the rip current that swirls right at its base, sucking the water down into a secondary stream that he’d helped the village tap into.

It serves as the drinking water for the whole valley, surfacing down past your former home and bubbling down to the sea, or so it’s said.

If you can get even half of Bram’s concoction into there--

A powerful blow knocks you to your feet, and you lose your grip on the vial. Dazed, you struggle to your knees, watching as a hand curls around the vial.

Get up! You have to be convincing! UP!

You’re unsteady as hell, but you lean into that, begging with a suddenly raw throat for Micht to stop. Your magic is almost gone again, but you grit your teeth and start for the vial. Behind it is your goal, the origin of the stream. Just ten strides, and he’ll think you’re giving up and throwing yourself in instead. Eight strides…

A rough hand curls around your neck and pulls the true vial from your bodice before shoving you to the ground.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Steve roars. Through tears, you can see him running toward the two of you. He swings his arm, releasing his shield. 

Micht stands triumphant with the vial, unstoppering it in preparation to drink. It’s all of your worst fears realized, and the moment seems to hang in time, more misery for you to experience right before he kills you face to face, just as he’s always wanted.

Steve’s shield smashes into Micht’s midsection, knocking him backwards. The vial flies up, its contents fanning out in a glowing blue rain over Jovann Micht. Everywhere it lands, white lightning and red flames erupt. He’s screaming, you’re screaming, thunder and agony crashes all around you, until finally, he’s gone.

The silence is oppressive. It’s as though your blood’s stopped pumping, the air’s trapped in your lungs, and your muscles are frozen solid. The pressure builds until Steve stabs the bloody sword into the ground beside you and slumps over to rest his hands on his knees.

“We won.”

Your body's working again, but you don’t know whether to feel happiness or horror. “Yeah.”

Both of you are exhausted, the kind of bone-weary that isn’t possible without having experienced something unspeakable. The smell of burnt hydra is horrendous though, so Steve pushes to get as far away as you can before collapsing beside the placid stream. You let your hands dangle in the frigid glacial meltwater, needing to feel something bad that isn’t horrible.

“Don’t fall in. I’m too wiped to go back for the rest of your armor, and that’s a white shirt.”

He’s speaking in riddles, and honestly it's the first regular thing Steve’s said to you since… all of that. “What?”

“The water makes it transpar-- Never mind.” Embarrassment drips from his words, and it’s enough to make you scooch around so you can see him.

Steve’s black armor hides most of the blood, but he’s almost drenched in it. He’s got his legs stretched out in front of him, and he’s wrapping a once-pristine white bandage around a gash on his leg, pausing every few revolutions to rest. Noticing your scrutiny, he offers you a weak smile.

“That fireball was something.”

“So’s your swordsmanship.” You search your resources and make a decision. “Want me to heal that?”

“What?” he says, then laughs, the sound genuinely joyful, though astonished. “I just fought a real hydra. Did you know that’s the second bad guy that’s disintegrated right in front of me? Of course you can heal. This place is… this place is something.”

His voice breaks on ‘something.’ You don’t know him very well, but the trauma you’ve shared tells you he needs a moment. Avoiding eye contact, you reach out, sending your magic in a gentle golden trickle across the ground between you. It slides smoothly over his boots and up the fabric of his trousers, finally sinking into his wound. You send a little extra, too, even though it makes your chest ache with warning. It’ll soothe his mind, and that’s worth it.

That done, you turn back to the water, staring past your fractured reflection into the stream’s shallow depths. Across the stretch of rocks and bubbling froth a dragonfly twists and dips, reacting to shifts in the air too subtle for you to notice. It’s a reminder that not everything’s been affected by the life or death struggle you’d just experienced. It helps, so much so that you don’t notice that Steve’s come to sit beside you until he speaks.

“Did you know that dragonflies are a symbol of grief and rebirth?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “Part of their life cycle is underwater, I guess, and the story goes that each one reaches a point where they need to surface. They each promise they’ll come back and tell the others what they find up there, but--”

“--but they can’t. They’re trapped either side,” you breathe.

“Trapped, yeah, but not dead.” The word is ragged, and you look up at him, even though it hurts your neck. “I lost friends in my forest. They turned to dust. We lost.”

Your hand is freezing, but his armor is thick. You reach out and squeeze his leg, and Steve stays still, clearly moved to quiet reflection.

“There’s a second life, is the moral. I don’t know if this is mine, but I wouldn’t mind if it was.”

You don’t dare hope, but you pour yes please into your expression. He smiles and pats his chest.

“There’s a pocket here. When I first showed up, you threw a locket--” he shakes his head curtly, enough to stop you from speaking. “I only caught a glimpse, but it looks like my shield.”

You squeeze his ankle, and determination hardens his expression.

“I think you might-- I think this place might need me. Do you have enough magic to, I don’t know… freeze it? Put it in stasis so it doesn’t send me back? I know just where I’d like to put it.”

You feel brave, but it’s not due to a lack of hope this time. This time, you have an abundance of hope.

“I’d like that very much.”

[ladylooch]

I might have to request Nico fluff cause the last one you wrote was absolutely brilliant😭 and if you want to add some spice to it I'm down

The answer to any Nico fluff request will always be yes. Forever. He is so easy to write. And I really love this AU. So how about the fluffiest fluff there ever is in human existence 💍

This is part of the What My World Spins Around AU. Catch the other blurbs on my master list here.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: 18+ Content!, fluff, drinking, swearing because I like the F word... and smut LOL.

The final bubbles of my glass of champagne pop and sputter against my lips as I bring the flute to my mouth. I finish the drink off, glancing over my shoulder. I scan the inside of the restaurant, searching for Nico. He’s been in the bathroom for awhile. I hope he’s okay. Not seeing him in my immediate view, I turn back to the street just beyond our patio seating.

We are back in Switzerland for another off-season. The Devils year ended short of a Stanley Cup, but their captain is in much better spirits compared to last summer. The team grew so much this year; Nico did too. He became stronger in his leadership, more sure of the direction of the team and the future management has been promising him since he was drafted.

It feels like their hard work has pushed them forward enough to ease the sting. Instead, he can barely wait for the puck to drop next season.

I watch as a couple of bikers stride through the street towards the setting sun. It’s hinting at beautiful colors tonight. I pull my phone up to attempt a picture, but it’s pointless. The colors are prettier than the phone can even show.

I reach for my flute again, disappointed when I remember I already drank the last of it.

“Sorry, babe.” Nico announces his presences as he moves to stand next to me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, placing my hand on his wrist. He looks flushed and like he’s a bit troubled.

“Yeah. Just got caught up in a conversation inside.” He assures me. I nod in understanding. It’s a common occurrence when we are here. “You up for a walk?” He extends his hand to move my hair behind my ear, then off my shoulder. My dark curls cascade down my back drawing his brown gaze as they cover the bare skin of my upper back. I look around for our waiter, not seeing him in immediate view. “I already paid.” He tells me. I pause, wrinkling my nose at his weird behavior.

“A little impatient tonight.” I chuckle, grabbing my purse and accepting his outstretched hand.

“You do see this sunset right? It’s amazing. If we can get beyond the buildings in the next few minutes, it will be even better.”

I trust the Swiss native at his word and allow for him to hustle me down the street. My wedges hate the cobblestone path, so Nico has to continuously steady me as we go. We break through the buildings into an open area that leads to the marina and glacial lake we live on the other side of. 

“Oh, wow.” I whisper. “You should have picked a house on this side of the lake.”

“They won’t build anything new over here. Ground is too unsteady in the winter.” His gaze is intense in front of us like he’s facing a fierce opponent, not staring at a gorgeous, summer sunset.

“Bummer.” I pout, following him down to the public pier that leads into the clear, blue water. 

As we walk, the colors begin to change from soft glows of yellow to bursting warm colors beginning with pink and ending with orange and reds.

“Wow.” I whisper to him, completely mesmerized.

Our fingers are linked loosely together as we walk, swinging between our bodies. The colors intensify more, causing the lake to toss diamonds across it’s glass surface. The hues dance along the Swiss Alps causing an idyllic glow in the valley. It’s breathtaking and indescribable. My eyes drink in the sight, barely noticing when Nico’s fingers drop from mine. I stand rooted to my spot, trying to remember each flick of light across the mountains.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen-” I turn, to face Nico completely. When I see him down on one knee, my words get stuck in my throat. “Ah.” Sputters out with what is left of them. 

“You are without a doubt the love of my life.” His voice shakes as he pulls in a breath. My hand clasps over my mouth as I close my eyes, whispering ohmygod over and over to myself. “I love you in ways I didn’t know were possible to love another person.”

“Yes.” I whisper to him, nodding my head and reaching for his shoulders. I drop to my knees, sliding my hands around his neck to stroke his cheeks with my thumbs. I tug his face to mine for a desperate kiss.

“I’m not done.” He laughs against my mouth. 

“Yes.” I insist again, pressing my lips more forcefully to his.

“I haven’t asked.” He reminds me, but his tongue comes out of his mouth to tangle with mine. I pull back to look at him. His face swims in my growing tears. One spills over my bottom lash so he catches it with his thumb. My lips wobble, trying to stuff the happy sob in my throat. I end up bitting into my tongue until I can taste blood in my mouth.

“I never want to know what it’s like to not have this. I want you with me for every moment, good and bad and average, for the rest of my life.” He smiles as more tears dash down my cheeks. I nod enthusiastically in wholehearted agreement. He reaches out for my face. I gasp as I lean into his touch. “Will you marry me?” It’s an excited whisper that has an effervescent grin pulling my cheeks tight.

“Yes!” I squeal, head tilting back and spilling electric laughter. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He pops the black ring box open and I practically faint.

“Oh… my GOD. Nico.” I am flabbergasted by the size of the diamond. It’s an oval cut in a platinum setting with several smaller diamonds that form a V down the sides of the band. It’s better than my wildest fantasies or any ring on my Pinterest board.

“You like it?”

“I love it.” I watch my hand tremble as he slides the ring onto my finger. 

“Whew, it fits.” He grins at me when he secures it in place.

“Oh.. how I love you.” I whimper to him, pressing our lips together again. The kiss is filled with sweetness. We share soft, open presses of our mouthes while his hands hold us firmly together.

Cheers break us apart. I look behind Nico and see his parents rushing towards us. Katja has her arms thrust into the air in excitement. Rino hold his hands up to his mouths to hoot at us. I smile, hiding my nose in Nico’s shoulder.

“I think we know those people.” I say, kissing the crook of his neck.

“They insisted on watching.” He chuckles, maneuvering us both to stand. I catch the glint of my ring as I brush a piece of my hair behind my ear. I can barely believe this is happening. Nico wraps his arms around my hips as we watch their final, joyful approach. His touch is grounding, but just in case this is a dream, nobody wake me up.

Nico keeps the celebration with his parents quick. We snap pictures, doing all the ring related poses and popping of champagne. Strangers embrace us with hugs and warm wishes of congratulations. I’m overwhelmed by the feelings of love and joy sweeping from every part of my body. Before I know what is happening, Nico is ushering me back to the car.

We crash into the house when we get home, beginning to strip each other’s clothes off. 

“All I want on you is your engagement ring.” Nico tells me, tugging my dress over my head. My matching red, peek a boo lingerie has him groaning.

“You sure about that?” I ask him, watching as his eyes drink me in. He steps forward, leaning his head down to suck my nipple into his mouth through the fabric. The barrier is too much. He shoves the cup down, gripping my breast tightly in his hand before sucking me deeper into his mouth. “Ahhh.” I whine to him, fingers threading into his long locks.

“Yeah I’m sure.” His nostrils flare when he pulls away. On the counter, the world demands our presence. Vibrating and flashing with text messages and phone calls, begging to hear about how the Swiss captain proposed.

They can wait. We can’t.

Nico reaches around to unclasp my bra, happy when it falls to our feet. 

“So fucking beautiful.” He hums, reaching for my other breast, tugging the pink nipple into his mouth. His teeth scrape lightly against it, making me wiggle impatiently in his arms. I reach for his hand, sliding it into my panties and beginning the motion I want from him. He grins, hooking my leg around his waist so he can run his thumb in tighter circles. My head knocks back to almost between my shoulder blades as I cry my appreciate to my future husband.

When my head snaps back, I turn into a vixen.

“You got on your knees; it’s only fair I repeat the favor.” I drawl. His glinting brown eyes watch my descent to the floor. He tugs his bottom lip into his mouth watching as I pull his thick shaft from his pants. His palms come to gather my hair at the back of my head. He tugs the hairs tight, holding my head back as his erection bounces against my tongue. He leers down at me as I stroke from base to tip. My wet mouth encloses around his head completely, sucking in steady pulses around the sensitive skin. Nico’s knees almost buckle.

“Look at how pretty my fiancé looks with me in her mouth.” He moans as I suck him deeper. 

“Ring looks good too.” I point out, showing him the glittering of the diamond against his taut skin.

“Mmm, almost as good as you.” He groans as I swirl my tongue along his seeping head. I take him as deep as I can, letting him set his hands on my head to fuck my mouth. His thrusts deepen and I resist the urge to gag around his hefty length. He sighs heavily as he falls from my mouth. “I can’t.” He confesses. “Not going to last long enough to get inside of you.” He reaches for my hands to pull me up. “Where?” He asks.

“Right here.” 

“Nah.” His head shake is assertive. “You deserve better than the floor.” He kisses my lips, swirling his tongue in my mouth to taste the last bit of himself there. His hands press into my hips, steering me towards the living room. We get to the couch wrapping our arms around each other, falling on it together. Our tongues meld as one, enjoying the company of one another’s mouthes. 

Nico reaches between us, gripping his cock to put himself between my folds. His fingers play with me, massaging me until I’m whimpering beneath him again.

“Nico.” I’m exasperated, too empty to keep playing this game with him. “Please.”

“Beg a little more.” He asks me watching my face as my eyebrows pull together in need.

“I can’t… please, I can’t wait anymore.” I don’t even need to play it up. I’m that desperate for him. He likes the sound of my pleading. One more stroke down my heat and he smoothly pushes himself inside of me. 

“Oh.” We both moan at the same time.

“So good.” He whispers into my mouth. He kisses me sloppily as his thrusts push me up the couch. The crown of my head hits the arm of it quickly. I wince slightly and Nico adjusts the pillow to protect my head. “Better?” He asks me, watching my face intently. I nod eagerly. With my head safe, he begins to increase the tempo. His hips snap and roll, then his staccato thrusts increase as he widens my knees.

“Fuck, baby you are gorgeous. So.. god damn perfect.” His long locks dance in front of his face as he looks down at us connecting. His gaze returns to mine when I scratch my nails down his arms. ��Keep looking at me like that.” He murmurs, hand coming down to stroke my face. “Don’t look away.” I bite my lip, causing Nico to groan again. “So sexy.” My eyes close and he squeezes my cheeks as a reminder. “Me baby, eyes on me. I want you to see who makes you feel this good.” My fingers move from his arms to his ass cheeks, forcing my nails in to make him increase the tempo. “Tell me.”

“I want more, Neeks. Please. Just a little.”

He tilts my hips up, adjusting me so he can go deeper. I lurch off the couch, arching my back as he strokes my inner walls just right. My hand comes down, touching my clit in soft circles. Nico brings a hand to my breast, massaging it beneath his fingers. 

“Baby.” It’s a breathless whisper that falls from my swollen lips greedily. I grit my teeth, eyes closing. Nico leans down to my ear, hot gulps of air enclosing the space between us.

“I’m so addicted to you, sweet girl.” He murmurs, thrusting faster into me. “The rest of my life still won’t be enough of you.” My fingers grip the back of his neck. Then, my nail beds turn white against Nico’s skin as I come, taking him right with me.

I’m shaking when Nico jerks a final time inside me. His strong arms hold most of his weight over me, but our chests stick to each other. I feel his nose on my shoulder. He glides his way to the dip of my neck then kisses his way up my cheek to my lips. Our breathing collides between our faces in ragged exhales.

The way he looks at me has tears building in my eyes.

“Do I really get that look forever?” I whisper to him, fingers ghosting along his face to brush his hair back from his eyes. He doesn’t speak just nods.

There are some things words can’t describe.

The feeling of laying in Nico’s arms, newly engaged and freshly loved, is definitely one of those things. 

[justanarchiveforfics]

October Seventeen recs

Briefly orange | @wondernus (angst, slice of life, magical realism)

Fragmentary source of healing and like an oasis away from the city, for his group of friends, Boo Seungkwan’s family farm is a regular vacation destination away from the city. Yet Seungkwan wishes for anything but a future filled with mountains of oranges, his dream of living in the city still ineffaceable in his head. When he receives a request from a friend he fell out of touch with asking if they could stay on his farm for the summer, Seungkwan finally finds himself in an opportunistic place in which his dream can finally become a reality. Why? Because you’re cursed to have everything you love disappear.

Sweltering heat and an eventful summer, magic touches lives in ways that we can never imagine. But in this transition between seasons, we find ourselves asking: when loss is as transient as the lives we live, what does it mean to love with every fiber of our being?

Call me later | @itadorins on going series (smau, fluff)

When the guy you met before your first day of uni didn’t keep his promise of calling you, you decided to be petty and ignore joshua hong anytime you guys see each other on campus.

Love hard | @wondernus (smau, fluff)

kwon soonyoung loves too hard and falls in love too quickly, accidentally building a (very false!!!) fuckboy image that he can’t seem to get rid of. when his friends talk him out of proposing to a girl he went on 2 dates with, he finally realizes he has a big problem with love. signing up to appear on his university’s most popular youtube talk show to unload his baggage and fix his image? what could possibly go wrong?

Cigarettes & coffee | @gyukult (fluff, smut)

Glacial pace | @wonusite (fake dating, friends to lovers, fluff)

You’ve been in love with Xu Minghao from the moment he put a bandage on your cut at the age of six. When he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get his prying family off his back, you quickly realize that keeping your feelings hidden from him will be next to impossible. Especially since your meddling friends are determined to have you admit your feelings before the holiday season is over.

Hits different, [part 2] | @gyuswhore (brother's bestfriend au, fluff, smut, angst)

Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.

or;

in which you get rejected by the only boy you’ve ever loved; a rejection you can’t quite shake off.

Think i need someone older | @gyuhao5 (smut)

Living in a small village takes a toll on you after having lived in the big city. So, after months of feeling down, your brother Soonyoung decides to get you out of the house for some socializing with his friends. You meet Jeonghan, who for some reason, doesn’t seem to like you.

Please don't make me jealous | @jinkoh (fluff, friends to lovers)

Your friend’s friend seems to be very keen on spending time with you.

Twenty two days before we go our separate ways (twenty two days of not falling for you) | @kwallanghae (fluff, angst, fake dating, friends to lovers)

There’s a special bond between you and jeonghan, and no one was surprised when you announced you were together. to you, it’s a surprise no one realised it wasn’t real.

Jeonghan's Guide to Insurance Fraude (and falling in love)| @starsstuddedsky (fake dating, friends to lovers, fluff)

Your best friend offers a way for you to get your wisdom teeth removed without going into debt. the only catch? you can’t fall in love.

[uwabbittuwabbit]

considering the pecco/luca spirited away au again and it’s like, pecco is on a trip with his parents as his send off to college and they take a wrong turn going to the little villa they rented out in the mountains or whatever and end up at this Roman ruin. Pecco feels like something’s up but he should be acting like a grown up which means pretending that he’s not scared and following his parent’s example. This however does not mean eating the food that might be offerings, as Pecco sees it, and he’s right because just like Odysseus’ men on Circe’s island his parents transform into pigs. This terrifies Pecco so fucking much that automatic instinct kicks in and he runs to what was before just a ditch in the dirt but is now a full fledged river. There’s a ferry on the river. Pecco Bagnaia is fucked, because somehow his parents found a portal to the Roman underworld and now both of them are squealing swine and he’s hyperventilating on the bank of the river Styx halfway to joining the crowd of whispering shades that haunt its shores. But then he’s saved by a mysterious stranger with glacial blue eyes that directs him to the bathhouse that serves both mortals, departed, and the extant beings of the Roman world…

[artficlly]

lady of the ghosts [chapter 8]

After a great plague ravages your city, you are looking to marry to secure safety for your people. With a war finally ending, the nearby kingdoms are looking to celebrate. King James "Bucky" Barnes decides to continue his family's tradition of hosting a courting season. A medieval courting marvel AU.

Pairing: king!bucky x lady!reader

Warnings: FLUFF, sexual tension, some angst, mention of sex work, mention of war, mention of funeral, tiny amount of anxiety/doubt, swearing, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 3.5

A/N: i wanted to make this a smaller chapter before shit hits the fan, very dialogue heavy and fluffy. please let me know what you think and reblog/like! sorry for any typos - enjoy!!

chapter masterlist | main masterlist

It was said that Neume once dwelled in the waters surrounding Faliene. As a guardian of the city, she waited beneath the waves. If she detected malice on the ships that entered her waters, she would rise from the ocean floor, her body hulking and blue with seaweed and barnacles entangled across her flesh. She would seize the ships with an iron grip, the wood splintering and cracking under the strain. She would drag the sailors to the bottom of the dark, sandy sea, where they would either drown or perish in her crushing grip. 

She was a protector in more ways than one; her presence wasn’t only to instill fear in those who ventured into the Falienean waters but also to aid those who worshiped her. They claimed she would herd the fish towards the fishermen who sailed off the coast, easing the giant schools into the hand-woven nets. On quiet, empty nights, some claim you could hear her singing. Her hums were reminiscent of whales, eerie and lonesome as they reached across the vast, vacant waters. Her song would lull the creatures to sleep, and only then could she be at peace. 

According to legend, Nemue's deep sleep, brought on by her own song, is what caused Faliene's misfortunes to start. As her children waited for her to return, disease and evil crept into her beloved city and slowly poisoned those who remained. Faliene held her breath, waiting in anticipation for the return of her song. The north had been stuck in a slumber for too long; it was time for her to come alive once more. 

The breeze was stronger than usual up on the rocky cliff of The Fishhook. The slowly rising sun partially melted the snow and ice below, where the waves pounded mercilessly along the exposed coast.  

James squinted his azure eyes against the whipping wind, his hair tousled, and his cheeks pink. The two of you had decided to hike up the southernmost point of Faliene’s coastline before it turned to mountain and sea. You had taken the daunting and winding path upward to the peak of The Fishook, a large curved outlook that had been creatively named due to its shape. Halfway up the path, Steve and Peggy had left you behind in favor of exploring a tiny, frozen cave. You knew it was so they would have a moment alone to continue their activities from the Pass; it was harder to do so with King Harrison’s ever-watching eye. 

“Do you see it?” The winds hurtling along the coast have left your lungs burning, and words are nearly stolen as your breath is ripped from you.

“You might have to point it out to me.” James’ admits sheepishly, eyes darting as he surveys the blue, glacial waters below. You step closer to him, careful and slow on the icy rock below, as the two of you are close to the dangerous edge. If the plummet didn’t kill you, the freezing waves crashing against the rocks certainly would. 

With a gloved hand, you point at a darker patch of water, where presumably the ocean floor is deeper than the rest of the bay. James ducks his head, his eyeline following along to where you point. Your gaze is on the side of his face, watching each emotion cross while studying every twitch of his eyebrow or jaw. 

“It’s supposed to look like a woman curled up on her side.” You explain, watching as he tilts his head ever-so-slightly, as if trying to see from a different perspective. James had been insistent on his prior promise of falling in love with the ghost city. Unlike the other guests, who mainly remained in the warmth of Fort Faliene, drinking and laughing their days away, James required endless exploration. 

Sometimes you wondered if it was somewhat of a ploy to get you alone, as even if Steve and Peggy came along as ‘escorts’, the two of you frequently found yourselves abandoned by the pair. Steve and Peggy had more interest in each other's mouths and bodies than the sights of Faliene, unlike James, who remained enraptured by every story and sight you showed him. 

You had toured him through the docks, the city, and the surrounding areas. The people of Faliene watched on with knowing smiles; even Brannigan seemed chuffed by your apparent familiarity with the King of Galanta. From what you gathered, the Falieneans were secretly pleased and were growing to forgive you for your lack of engagement. Why pester you about marrying a lord when you were actively seducing a king? 

“I see it.” James speaks up from beside you, his confused expression melting into a grin. “Her head is facing the east.”

Your eyes flickered over the now familiar planes of his face, watching as he rubbed the stumble across his jaw out of habit. A small smile plays across your face, words leaving you despite your attention being nowhere near the shape of Neume in the waters below. “I know it’s silly, that it’s just the shape of the seafloor, but Falienean’s have always said it looks like Neume sleeping on her side.” 

“You know, everyone always talks about how superstitious the north is, but I think it’s simply that we Southerners are too boring.” He replies, his eyes abruptly cutting to yours. There is a small smirk across his features as he notices your stare, and you look away, cheeks pink, now not only because of the cold. 

“I don’t think you’re boring.” You hum quietly, your words nearly stolen by the next gust of wind as you look to your feet. 

“We definitely are.”

You sucked on your teeth for a moment, tilting your head so you could see him through your peripherals. A smile crosses your face as you realize he’s been watching you the entire time, gloved fingers reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. You finally pluck up the courage to look back at him. “Tell me a story about Galanta, then. I will be the judge of whether it is boring or not.” 

James lets out a long sigh, looking upwards at the horizon in thought. “They are all stories of war and death, I’m surprised I didn’t die of boredom as a child having to listen to all those tales–”

“You know that I like history.” You cut him off, playfully pushing at his chest. Your cheeks warm up more, realizing that the hard muscle beneath doesn't give under your touch. James chuckles, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at you. “Tell me a story about when you were at war then. Maybe that will be more exciting because you were actually fighting–”

“People who tell their own tales are always bragging.” James grumbles with a hard look, which quickly softens as he catches your pleading look. He shakes his head with a sigh, humming as if in thought. His hands mindlessly come to your cloak, gloved fingers twisting through the fur trimming.

“During the war,” He begins. “Steve and I stumbled upon Prince Micheal in a whorehouse. He was so drunk on ale that he could barely see, let alone walk. The girls were sick of him, so we offered to take him back to camp. The trip was short-lived, though… We grew tired of dealing with him, so we left him passed out in a pig pen. He didn’t return to camp until the next day, it was lunch when he stormed in. He was all covered in filth. He didn’t remember a thing, but he knew Steve and I had something to do with it, we could hardly keep a straight face due to the stench.” 

A laugh bubbles in your chest, and you shake your head at the brunet. Steve had often mentioned how he and James tormented the Prince when they could. Those were tales that Steve would whisper to you over dinner, while Michael bragged and boasted about exaggerated stories further down the table. Though this was not a story you had heard before, you quickly learned that Steve was not as open with you about his secrets as you first assumed – his and Peggy’s affair being just one example. You wondered how many tales from the war were lost to you due to Steve's reluctance to share. This story seemed to have a glaringly obvious reason why.

“You and Steve frequented whorehouses?” You ask innocently, and you hear James suck in a sharp breath, his head tilting to look away guiltily. A teasing smile plays across your lips as you lean closer to him. “The good King James and his knight Sir. Rogers getting their cocks wet? How scandalous.” 

You could imagine the girls in the whorehouses would have loved to be visited by James and Steve – rich, handsome war heroes? They would’ve been snatched away before they even put their foot in the door. You didn’t have envy or malice for the whores, unlike some ladies of court who bickered about the ‘filthy harlots roaming the war fronts’. You imagined James and Steve would’ve been a welcome break from the usual soldiers who would’ve wondered their way. 

Beside you, James swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, and he looks back at you with surprise in his guarded eyes. You wondered if he had ever heard you speak in such a vulgar way before — Steve definitely had, especially when he schemed and got you a few drinks in. His hands reach out, gripping your waist to tug you even closer to his body, and you oblige with a satisfied sigh. 

“It’s just the way of things during war.” He says, his voice husky and low as he looks down at you. His words hesitate, his tongue wetting his lower lip as he scans your face. “You’re telling me you didn’t bed a knight or two during the war? While you were all alone in Haiford Castle?”

Your smirk spreads. “You think King Harrison would’ve let me stay if he had any inkling that I wasn’t a virgin?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

You allow your eyes to roam over his face as you take your time answering his question. You note the way his pupils have dilated and the subtle strain in his jaw, as if silent worry was clawing behind his cool demeanor. 

“No. I didn’t.” You reply honestly. “You really think I would invite one of your knights into my bed, or even worse, a Haifordian knight?” 

James grins at that, as if secretly pleased by your answer. You could imagine he made assumptions about you, considering your affinity for finding trouble and irritating authority. Even if you often made it your mission to irritate Prince Michael or King Harrison, you had never fallen to the depths of sleeping around with men you despised.

“I must be good then if you’re willing to have me.” He replies, his voice still low and rumbling in his chest.

“And who said you were invited into my bed?” Your eyes flutter upwards as you look at him through your lashes, a coy smile forming in response to his smirk. 

James hums, his hands squeezing tighter as he presses a soft, gentle kiss to one of your exposed collarbones. His grin is cheeky as he raises his head once more, his expression near ravenous as he watches your breath hitch slightly, goosebumps raising across your skin. Everything about his touch and scent is intoxicating, and you nearly forget you are standing on an exposed cliff as you lean heavily into his touch. 

“I am going to speak with King Harrison tonight.”

“About what?” You manage to stutter out. Your mind is hazy and confused as you try to focus on something other than the pattern he is tracing across your ribcage with his thumb.

“Us. Peggy.” James begins, and you stiffen under his touch. “I am going to gift Steve land and make him a lord – maybe a duke or a count. Something high-ranking enough for him to marry Peggy.” 

“I haven’t even agreed to marry you.” You say through narrowed eyes. “Don’t you think this is too early?”

James looks down at you with a frown. “Where else will you go now that the funeral is complete? You can’t return to Haiford… If we settle this issue with King Harrison, you could return to Galanta with me–”

“What if I want to stay here?” You interrupt, and James snaps his mouth shut.

There is a long pause between the two of you, with James sighing slowly through his nose as his grip around your waist eases, his fingers no longer tracing delicate circles.  

“Well…” James begins hesitantly. “Once we are married, you will have to balance your time between Faliene and Galanta, as will I. If you cannot lead Faliene until our marriage, it would be wise that you return to Galanta until the ceremonies–”

“I want to be married in Faliene.” You interrupt once more.

“I thought you said you hadn’t agreed–” He starts with a grin, only for you to cut over him again with a huff.

“Hypothetically. If there were a hypothetical marriage between us, I would want it to be here��”

He is still grinning as he speaks, as if amused. His eyebrows arch as he speaks. “You do realize the Galantaians would riot, right? Robbing them of a wedding celebration–”

“I am only just winning back the trust of my people, they would be insulted if I snubbed them–”

“Well, it is tradition for the wife to be married in the husband's–”

The playful tone that had built through your exchange quickly snaps, and a scowl crosses your face as you take a step back from him. “Please don’t tell me you’re under the assumption that a husband should be the only one in charge simply because he is male–”

“No – Y/N. No.” James gasps, exasperated. His gloved hand raises up, cupping your cheeks as he looks down at you with a frown. “If we are married, Faliene would be run by you and only you. I will sign whatever papers you ask me to, and I will not interfere unless you ask my opinion.”

You blink at him slowly, exhaling sharply out of your nose as you lean into his touch despite the stubborn look across your face. A small part of you is anxious; you have been hesitant and cautious to trust all of your life. What if, like Rumlow, James was trying to fool you into marriage so he could control the seafaring of the continent? 

“Are you telling the truth?” Your voice is quiet, nearly lost to the winds. Thankfully, James doesn’t seem insulted by your wariness.

“Of course I am. I know that if Faliene is to flourish, it can only be under your rule, not mine.” James hums, his thumb gently swiping over the skin of your cheek before he pulls away. “Maybe it is best we leave the talk of weddings until after I deal with King Harrison. Deal?” 

He offers his hand in the small distance between the two of you. You chew on your lip for a moment, nodding your head as the apprehension in your gut eases. You reach out, grasping his forearm near his elbow. The muscle is bulging and swollen in comparison to your small hands. His fingers wrap around your own forearm, engulfing the clothed skin entirely as you both shake hands on this new agreement. 

“Deal.” You mutter back, though you can’t fight back the smile that has formed. 

There is a new feeling growing in your gut. 

Hope.

—

“Does King James always fuck you with his eyes?” Wanda asked from behind you, her nimble hands expertly washing the soap from your hair. Your strands were lazily dangling over the side of the tub, the water trickling off into the bucket below. Your eyes rolled back into your head, a small huff leaving your lips as you leaned harder against the warm metal. 

Once returning from The Fishhook with Steve and Peggy in tow, Wanda managed to sneak you back into your rooms before your presence was requested elsewhere. Tonight there would be one final feast before most of the guests returned home, and it seemed everyone wanted your attention or opinion on the most mundane of subjects. You had been practically assaulted with questions about dining displays and menus, while the Asgardian Princes, Thor and Loki, somehow managed to trick you into showing them the wine cellar. 

As if sensing your rising stress levels, Wanda had pulled you away, declaring she needed to help you bathe and dress for the dinner to follow. 

“You can act all coy, but we’ve all noticed it. Brannigan is biting at the bit to start organizing a wedding.” Wanda continues, and you groan loudly, slipping deeper into the warm water.

“Do not let him organize anything.” You grumble, and the woman chuckles behind you. 

“When you said you knew the Galantian’s well, I didn’t realize it was because you had invited them into your bed–”

“He has not been in my bed.” You protest, sinking even further into the water until it reaches your chin.

“Ah. Matter of time. You can see it on his face that his cock gets hard everytime he looks at you–”

“Wanda.” You cut over her sternly, wrapping your arms across your chest as you turned in the tub to face her with a scowl. The water sloshes around you at your sudden movements, Wanda withdrawing as a small wave departs the tub. “I have already upset King Harrison enough, I can’t upset him more by having rumors spread around.”

“I am sorry.” Wanda sighs, elbows braced against her thighs, as she leans over to look at you. “I am just excited for you.”

You can’t help but let a small smile grace your lips at her words. As much as you wanted to be annoyed, there was always a sincerity and sweetness to Wanda that made you cave. You move forward through the water, your breasts pressed against the metal as you cross your arms over the lip of the tub. 

“I am sorry for keeping secrets… It is just that to keep the peace between Haiford and Galanta, we have to be careful.” You mutter softly. Wanda gives you a sympathetic look, ringing out the damp cloth in her hands. 

“King Harrison is still expecting Princess Peggy to marry King James?” She asks quietly, abandoning the cloth over the lip of the tub. You press your lips together tightly, watching as Wanda fetches you a dry towel. 

“Unfortunately.” You grumble in return, standing. You allow most of the water to cascade off your skin and hair before wrapping yourself in the towel and carefully stepping out of the tub as Wanda readies your dress. 

You quickly dry yourself before the cold sets in, scoffing as Wanda speaks up once more from across the room. “He must be blind if he has not seen the way Princess Peggy and Sir Rogers dance around each other.” 

“I think I may have accidentally helped Peggy by distracting King Harrison.” You admit sheepishly.

Wanda snorts. “He seems to be looking everywhere but at Princess Peggy. Gods, he spends more time enamored with Lord Rumlow than–”

“What do you mean?” You cut over her abruptly.

Wanda arches a brow at you. “King Harrison and Lord Rumlow, they’re always constantly muttering away in the corner, haven’t you noticed?”

“I have.” You say it with a frown. At least you had noticed it more back in Galanta, but these past two weeks between the funeral, James, and organizing, you had barely had time to play spy. It was harder to notice the small things of court when you were now the center of attention rather than a ghost slinking around on the outside of conversation.

“Maybe King Harrison has grown bored of wives – Maeve says that the two of them remain locked up in King Harrison’s rooms most days and nights. She scarcely has time to clean!” Wanda says as she helps you pull on your dress, a thick, dark material with fur trimmings and silver beading around the waist. 

“Does she know what they are doing in there?” You pry cautiously, tugging the sleeves in place and shooing Wanda away as you begin to lace the front. 

“No. They always grow quiet when she knocks, and they send her away. The staff are making bets over what date they’ll announce their affair.”

You don’t reply, instead pondering over this newfound information. Wanda begins muttering about the hairstyle she will craft for you tonight. You are barely listening as you sink into the seat in front of your mother's old vanity. With any hope James’ and King Harrison’s chat goes well tonight, you felt a pit of dread growing in your stomach at the thought of what Rumlow might be scheming.

taglist | @liter4ti @just-someone11 @champagnejoker @scooobies @queerqueenlynn @fanfictionjunkie1112 @themotherof10 @diaries-of-a-hopelessromantic @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @riffstorm

[in-search-of-a-fallen-star]

at the last stroke of midnight (pt. 2)

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki/Reader

WC: 1,904

Content warnings: aged up characters, everyone is in their 20s or older. fantasy au. no pronouns used for reader, but they are described to wear skirts and are referred to as ‘my lady’. brief descriptions of fantasy violence.

part 1 : part 2 (you are here) : part 3

Your first impression of the tournament is that it is loud. The stands on both sides of the field are crammed with people, and the sound of chatter washes over you like a wave. The queen had made it a point that her box not be above the stands this year, so you are down in the thick of it. 

It’s a far cry from the peace of your mountain home, where the loudest noise is the rushing water of the glacial runoff that flows through the center of your village. It’s even quieter in winter- it gets so quiet that you can hear the snow fall. 

This is… not that. 

Another thing you miss about your home is how cool it is. Even in the summer, the nights get cold enough that an extra blanket or a sweater feels nice. Here you’re sweating under three layers of skirts. Curse these southerners and their damn formal clothing, you think as you try to subtly adjust your skirts to get some semblance of airflow. 

You hadn’t been informed that this tournament would require even the servants to be in formal dress, so you’d missed the beginning of the tournament while the other ladies in waiting quickly stuffed you into a gown. You’d almost deliberately left the favor the queen had given you on the vanity in your quarters, but then you remembered the hopeful look on the queen’s face when she’d given it to you, and begrudgingly stuffed it in your pocket. 

Unfortunately, since you’d missed the introductions at the beginning of the tournament, you didn’t know any of the knight’s names, and you haven’t been in the south long enough for any of the crests the knights are wearing to mean anything. You watched the ladies around you hand out their favors to knights who came riding up with a bit of interest. Luckily it seemed like they knew the knights who approached them, and blushed and tittered when the knights would tip their lances to them for the ladies to place the favor.

You don’t know any of these knights, and it seems unlikely that any of them will come to you for a favor, so you busy yourself watching the spectacle. You know the queen is going to ask you what you thought about it, so you want to have answers for her interrogation questions later. 

It means that your eyes are elsewhere when a knight rides up to you. They have to clear their throat and tap their lance against the railing of the box to draw your attention. You look to either side of you to see who the knight is trying to catch, when the knight speaks. 

“I was looking for you,” they say, and their voice sends a shudder up your spine. They lift a hand to their visor, opening it just enough that you can see the mismatched eyes underneath, twinkling with amusement. “You’re hard to find.”

“Well you found me,” you huff, crossing your arms. “Do you want a prize?”

“Yes, actually.” The knight smiles, and tips his lance in your direction. “Would you grant me your favor, my lady?”

“Why should I give it to you?” you ask, looking the knight over for any clue to his identity. His armor is plain, and his shield bears no crest, only a red and white field. Like his hair, your brain supplies. 

“I need the luck,” the knight says, his eyes earnest. 

“I’m sure there are dozens of ladies here who could give you luck,” you gesture to the stands filled with women, wreaths of flowers clutched in their hands.

“But I want your luck,” he pleads. 

“Fine,” you cave, leaning down to slide the wreath of flowers over the tip of his lance. “But if you win, I want the prize. It is my luck, after all.” 

He stands up in the stirrups of his saddle, reaching up to grasp your hand in his gauntleted one before you can pull away.  “As you wish, my lady,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes on yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

You open your mouth to say something, but the horns ring out, signaling the start of the tournament. The knight smiles at you one last time, before he sits back down in his saddle and shuts the visor of his helmet. He waves at you before turning his horse to ride to the start line.

You pull your hand to your chest, unconsciously rubbing the spot where he kissed. His lips really are as soft as they look, you muse for a moment before snapping yourself out of your daze. You do your best to ignore the pounding of your heart as you watch the knights assemble for the first part of the tournament.

Jousting is the first event. You’ve seen knights practice in the training yards of the castle, trying to knock each other off their horses or gather rings on their lances. It’s much different watching it up close, and you find yourself swept up in the enthusiasm of the crowd, cheering at the clash of lances on steel.

As loath as you are to admit it, the queen was right, you muse as you watch. This is more fun than you were expecting. You groan inwardly at the thought of telling her that. She might have a reputation as being refined and elegant, but she can be smug as hell when she’s right about something.

The knight with the red and white shield is one of the last to go in the jousting event. You watch as he takes his place at the end of the tilting lane, lance in hand. The flowers you gave him flutter in the wind at the base of the lance, and you can feel the queen’s knowing gaze on the back of your head. You stubbornly refuse to turn and look, keeping your eyes fixed on the knight. 

The stands quiet as the heralds call the start of the round. The crowd seems to be holding their breath, waiting for the sound of impact. You hear the drum of the horse’s hooves on the dirt as they pound down the tilting lane, and the crowd roars as both lances shatter against the knight’s armor. Both of them stay seated, turning their horses to go back to their starting point and prepare for another pass.

Brushing aside the lance that his squire offers him, your knight clambers off his horse and runs into the tilting lane with a clank of steel. The crowd gasps, watching him root around in the dirt before he finds what he’s looking for- he pulls the favor you gave him out of the dirt and dusts it off, before trotting back to his side of the tilting lane and climbing back up on his horse. You watch as he slides the favor over the tip of his new lance before getting into position. The crowd murmurs around you as the heralds call the start of the next pass.

There’s a clash of wood on steel and you watch as your knight unseats his opponent with a clean hit, the other knight going flying off his horse and landing in the dirt. Your knight reins in his horse and swings down, walking over to offer the other knight a hand up as the squires run down the lanes. 

After making sure that his opponent landed safely, your knight turns to the queen’s box and salutes with his lance, as is the victor’s tradition. For a moment, you feel his eyes on you, even though they’re covered by the steel of his helmet’s visor. You dismiss the feeling as nonsense, but you can’t help the slight flush that colors your cheeks.

Once the jousts finish, you watch the tournament attendants clear the tilting lane markers and reset the arena. The victorious knights gather around the edges, talking quietly with their squires as the tournament attendants finish setting up the arena for the melee. 

Over the chatter of the festival goers around you, you hear the queen call your name. You leave the railing and turn towards her seat, curtsying as you approach. “Your majesty,” you greet, bowing your head with your curtsy. 

“I have a favor to ask you,” she says, inclining her head to you conspiratorially. “Take your handkerchief to that knight with the red and white shield.”

You snap your head up, looking at her incredulously. “What? Why?” You hiss, lowering your voice to not be heard over the crowd.

“You gave him your favor, did you not? Take him your handkerchief to wipe his face, and go congratulate him on his win.” 

You want to say no, but she looks so excited that you can’t bring yourself to deny her. “Yes, your majesty,” you say with another curtsy as you turn to leave. As you walk away, you hear Princess Fuyumi, seated next to the queen, start “The knight with the red and white shield? Mother, isn’t that-”

The queen shushes her, and begins to say something that gets lost in the crowd as you make your way out of the box. You see several other ladies walking toward the field as well, each of them approaching one of the knights with water or towels in their hands.

Your knight has his visor up, a cup of water at his lips as he surveys his competition. His eyes catch you approaching, and they brighten as he turns toward you. He waits for you to approach, varicolored eyes watching you as you walk closer. 

“I told you I needed the luck,” he gestures to the favor, which he now has pinned to his breastplate.

“Your lance broke on the first hit,” you offer your handkerchief to him, which he accepts gratefully. He dabs at the sweat on his brow, and you’re briefly distracted by how unfair it is that he looks so handsome while sweating. It makes his skin glisten in the summer sun, highlighting his high cheekbones. 

With his hair pushed back inside his helmet, you can get a good look at his face, and you notice the scar that surrounds one of his eyes. It makes him look dashing, you decide. 

“But I stayed in the saddle,” he reminds you. He goes to return the handkerchief, but his hand halts midair. “May I return this to you after I’ve had a chance to wash it?”

“That would be preferable.”

“I’ll need to know who to return it to,” he looks at you hopefully. “Will you tell me your name?”

“I already told you, I’m no one of consequence,” you sniff, turning your head to survey the arena and crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re seated in the queen’s box,” he points out. “That makes you of consequence.”

“There are servants in the queen’s box too.” 

He starts to ask another question, but the herald’s trumpets interrupt him. Something in his expression makes you pause as you turn to go back to the queen’s box. “Uh, good luck out there,” you offer, smiling at him tentatively.

His answering smile is luminous, before his squire grabs his attention and begins preparing him to enter the arena. You begin the walk back to the queen’s box, turning over the thought in your head that your knight has a very cute dimple.

[midnightactual]

What canon or OC muse are you adapting? Desmond E. Hayden

Setting vibe check: Militarism, Struggle, Goodness

Setting vibe check: Fire

Setting vibe check: Hot

Setting vibe check: Dirty

Setting vibe check: Low-tech

Muse vibe check: Hard

Muse vibe check: Noble

Muse vibe check: Violent past behavior

Muse vibe check: Unaffiliate presently

Muse vibe check: Augmented human

Muse vibe check: Revolutionary, Washed up, Security

"Suit up, soldier, we got a system to burn."

[ For I’ll write an Armored Core VI Verse/AU for your muse ]

World: Karakoram 3b Catalog Number: ISB0373 Type: terrestrial moon, mountainous Climate: varied, glacial or subtropical Population: 49 million Satellites: n/a Notable Features: space elevator

A habitable world only fractionally less massive than Earth, Karakoram 3b is the second moon orbiting a Saturn-like gas giant on the outer edge of its system’s habitable zone. Tidally locked like most moons and kept in an eccentric orbit by Laplace resonance with the planet’s other satellites, it experiences significant tidal heating and lithosphere compression, with the result being an extremely mountainous surface regularly dotted by volcanoes. The moon has low surface water coverage, though this is not the result of any scarcity—rather, its mountainous terrain hosts massive glaciers which lock up most of its water reserves. What seas and large lakes there are boast surprisingly warm climes, as do most lowland valleys, all heated by ubiquitous geothermal activity. The world is a study in extremes, with ice above and steam and sometimes even fire below.

Most of the arable land hosts subtropical conditions with hot and humid summers and extremely mild but wet winters, as the planet’s temperature is regulated more by geological processes than stellar flux. That same tectonic activity has resulted in rich and easily accessed mineral resources from deep below the crust, which recommended the moon for colonization above and beyond even its quixotic habitability. Dominated by regional extractive mining concerns with all the attendant ‘company town’ developments one might expect, it functions both as a minor industrial hub in and of itself, and a major exporter of rare minerals to the nearby Seiko system, on account of Seiko 4’s restrictive policies on mining and the comparatively more expensive mining operations on other celestial bodies there. Civil unrest and armed worker strikes are commonplace.

Name: Desmond E. Hayden Augmentation: Generation Eight Occupation: mercenary Affiliation: independent Registration Number: Kr220 Callsign: Liberator Armored Core: Decree

Karakoram 3b is divided by its inhabitants into two hemispheres depending on what dominates the sky: strandside where the space elevator is more visible, and planetside where Karakoram 3 is more visible. Planetside is rather more remote and wild, with various mining companies possessing more and more control the deeper one ventures. Brigandry is kept in check by both local corporate forces and the Karakoram Elevator Authority's Line Monitors, with the former also regularly suppressing wildcat mining in their zones of control. Some independent settlements do nonetheless exist, and worker strikes in this hemisphere will often attempt to hire the services of their residents in resisting corporate security when contract negotiations break down.

The son of miners who came to Karakoram 3b hoping to make their fortune and move on, Hayden grew up under the total oversight of the Masterson Materials, Metals, and Minerals Corporation (4MC), which occupied an area of higher elevation (and thus more temperate) valleys. Unsurprisingly, his parents never actually made it big. After coming of age, Hayden decided to enter the company's services as a security officer rather than as a miner, thinking the work more in line with his disposition. 4MC had actually been fairly equitable throughout his life, and his activities were indeed focused almost exclusively against external threats for several years, but all things come to an end. When 4MC's workers finally did go on strike, Hayden was among those ordered to break it with extreme prejudice by a management which perceived its employees as thankless. He balked and defected with his Muscle Tracer.

The situation continued to escalate toward the precipice of violence when, sensing an opportunity, a rival company—Geological Exploitation Technologies (GET)—attacked both sides in force. In the ensuing chaos, Hayden attempted to lead local surviving miners to one of the independent settlements. Few made it. He operated from that location thereafter, alternately serving as hired muscle and taking vigilante action against GET as an act of retribution. Gradually pooling the funds for an AC, his patience was rewarded when he participated in GET's eventual demise and subsumption by surrounding companies, as had happened to 4MC. With nothing left for him locally, he finally went strandside, and from there off-world and out-system. Spending the remainder of his profits on Generation Eight human augmentation surgery, he has since worked as an independent mercenary.

A simple and robust AC built from cheap and common parts, Decree demonstrates no pretensions regarding what it is or is for. A ground-pounder, it is fully optimized to employ a piece of repurposed industrial demolition equipment to tear apart its enemies.

While Decree's burst assault rifle is a standard, easy to use, military-grade weapon, it primarily serves as a backup to allow the AC to reach out and touch airborne opponents or keep distant foes busy as it closes. Decree's real power comes from its twin spread bazookas, which if not devastating enough in their own right, serve perfectly at setting up an even more powerful charged strike from its chainsaw, with assault armor serving as a rarely-needed follow-up.

[galati-cat]

also,,, wip

[skzoologist]

Rules

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About my posts:

I try my best to post a new chapter for my fic every month or two (this varies, because my body is not the best and I get sick often).

Requests:

CURRENTLY CLOSED

What do I write about? Mostly scenarios for my Stray Kids OC, Bae. You can request what you want him to do, him interacting with the members, things like this. Since I am also an ATEEZ and TXT fan, you can also mix them into your request! (I'm really lenient, so just go nuts in your request!)

How long does it take for me to answer your request? Depending on what you requested, it could take me a few days, weeks, or only a few hours. For instance, something involving all the characters and scenarios with them will take me longer than just a short scene involving one character. So don't be discoured when I haven't answered your request for a few days, I am absolutely working on it, even if slowly! If I haven't reacted to your request in any way in two months, it means I didn't see/receive it! Send it in again if that's the case.

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What genres CAN you request? -angst -hurt/comfort -fluff -crack -supernatural, magical or all kinds of AUs! (I love worldbuilding, so don't hesitate to hit me up with these!) -i am open to a lot of things, maybe it would be easier to list off what i won't write

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Honestly, unless you suggest smut (it makes me highly uncomfortable), I will gladly await your request with open arms, may it be a heart-wrecking idea or a heart-warming one. I just love these boys, they are all crackheads in the best ways.

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I'm sorry to say this, but since tumblr has always had and will continue to have bot problems, if your blog doesn't have any posts or any profile/background pictures, I WILL block you! Also, please refrain from going through my entire glacial prince tag in one go, because it entails literally hundreds of posts, and I am not even kidding right now. But if you still decide to climb that mountain and go through that tag, I'm personally asking you to take breaks between regularly. You need a rest sometimes, and also a reminder to drink some water, to just take care of yourself. Maybe even stand up and stretch around, okay? I'm requesting this for your own good.

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[crystalfoxxie]

Sorry it's on paper, I'm homeless atm xc

So, I'm making kind of an au where, to pay for all of the lawsuits and debts, a member of Faz LLC corporate is greenlit to make an interactive show. With rooms of safe sets where the new lineups of safe, plush and magnet animatronics will be filmed and casts of children who's parents sign them to be on the show, kinda like Barney.

Foxy as a pirate is already a time marker, so I'm pulling everyone back to the 1700's thematically. The sea is a giant ballpit through which boats ride on a specialized set of wheels, the storm hall has rows of rotating paddles that cause waves, and long metal poles covered in tinsel to rotate for fake tornadoes.

I'm still revamping/redesigning and placing characters, but I know that I want Goldie(Fredbear), Freddy, Chica, Bonnie and Foxy on the main ship near the entrance, being the protagonist crew.

Roxanne is the queen of the castle set in town, the Faerie Queen Quarry leads down a crystal cave where Ballora acts as Faerie Queen, Baby as the Princess and Sun and Moon as her helpers.

After asking my discord server, i was inspired to make Music Man a Musician who became too consumed by fame and was cursed by the Faerie Queen to play at least one instrument at all times and only speak in song. If he stops, he turns more and more into a spider

The room to the right of the Faerie Queen's Cave is a snowy, piney mountain peak, the one beneath it is a viking colony, led by Monty and the last one towards the bottom is the glacial region, handled mostly by the opposing pirate crew made up of Funtime Freddy who I need to think of a new name for, Funtime Foxy renamed Fennrick (i don't know how you expect me to explain the names of characters being the same as the protagonists with one word extra in front logically) Bon-Bon, Bonnette, Mangle and a replacement for Funtime Chica who's a penguin named Penny.

I need to look at FNaF World's roster tbh bc I won't be making a bunch of doubles, but at least every character that has enough of a difference to warrant a new design and personality, like the Mediocre Melodies.

Any ideas for what I could add or where I could place other characters just characters who could be redesigned and involved?

[newmic]

LE LAC D'ALLOS :

SITUÉ EN PLEIN COEUR DU PARC NATIONAL DU MERCANTOUR - FRANCE, département des Alpes Maritimes, LE LAC D'ALLOS EST PLUS GRAND LAC NATUREL D'ALTITUDE D'EUROPE (2228M). LAC D'ORIGINE GLACIAIRE, IL ABRITE UNE POPULATION DE TRUITES ET D'OMBLES CHEVALIERS. SES EAUX SONT ÉVACUÉES PAR UN PASSAGE SOUTERRAIN NATUREL, QUI ABOUTIT À LA SOURCE DU CHADOULIN, DONT LES EAUX REJOIGNENT CELLES DU VERDON. 

COMMENT S'Y RENDRE ?

ON ACCÈDE AU LAC D'ALLOS PAR UNE PETITE ROUTE DE MONTAGNE OUVERTE DU 7 JUIN À LA MI OCTOBRE JUSQU'AU PARKING DU LAUS. DE LÀ, IL RESTE 45MN DE MARCHE À PIED.

IL EST ÉGALEMENT POSSIBLE D'ACCÉDER AU LAC D'ALLOS EN 3H30 DE MARCHE DEPUIS LE VILLAGE D'ALLOS PAR LE GR 56B.  

***

ALLOS LAKE: LOCATED IN THE HEART OF THE MERCANTOUR NATIONAL PARK - FRANCE, Alpes Maritimes department, ALLOS LAKE IS THE LARGEST HIGH ALTITUDE NATURAL LAKE IN EUROPE (2228M). LAKE OF GLACIAL ORIGIN, IT HOSTS A POPULATION OF TROUT AND ARCTIC CHAR. ITS WATERS ARE EVACUATED BY A NATURAL UNDERGROUND PASSAGE, WHICH ENDS AT THE CHADOULIN SPRING, WHOSE WATERS JOIN THOSE OF THE VERDON.

HOW TO GET THERE ?

LAC D'ALLOS IS ACCESSED BY A SMALL MOUNTAIN ROAD OPEN FROM 7 JUNE TO MID OCTOBER UP TO THE LAUS CAR PARK. FROM THERE, IT REMAINS 45MN OF WALK.

IT IS ALSO POSSIBLE TO ACCESS ALLOS LAKE IN 3.5 HOURS OF WALK FROM THE VILLAGE OF ALLOS BY THE GR 56B.

[emissionlabandeoriginale]

// CHRONIQUE ALBUM //

Death Valley Girls - Islands in the Sky

Le quatrième album des californien(ne)s de Death Valley Girls enmenné(e)s par la chanteuse et multi instrumentiste Bonnie Bloomgarden, projet monté en 2014 aux côté du seul homme de la bande le guitariste Larry Schemel est paru le 24 fevrier annoncant franchement la couleur et au passage la nouvelle direction du groupe avec une pochette confirmant cette phrase culte de pub "c'est comme le Port Salut c'est marqué dessus !".

En effet ce nouvel effort studio se nomme "Islands in the Sky" et c'est bien une île flottante (au sens littéral calmez-vous les gourmands) qui apparaît au milieu de cette nuit d'encre éclairée par ce qui semble être une lune, cette île belle et assez enigmatique avec en son sein un temple greco-romain renfermant une orbe lumineuse, sorte d'oeil omniscient sur tout ce qui se passe sur la terre ferme peut-être. Le décor est posé alors allons nous découvrir un groupe de blues rock volontiers garage jusque là nous inviter à une promenade introspective et spirituelle dans des ambiances pop-rock éthérées et contemplatives ?

Et bien on en est pas loin ; en effet depuis son troisième album la bande à Bloomgarden avait commencé à inscrire un tournant plus posé, suave dans le chant et pop dans ses mélodies. Islands in the sky en est la pure confirmation posant tout de suite les choses avec l'ouverture California Mountain Shake progressive rythmée par une rythmique tribale au tom basse, une guitare arpégée, un chant lassif, des choeurs mélancoliques, une nappe de synthé glaciale, on sent que l'on entre dans la nuit de la scène illustrée sur la pochette. On retrouvera cette atmosphere fantomatique en philigranne et ce chant semblant venu de si loin derrière les nuages tout au long de l'album même sur les morceaux les plus incisifs et pop car là est la magie de Death Valley Girls, confronter les ambiances sus-citées à une pop marquée par les années 80, Bloomgarden se muant à des moments en une Cindy Lauper moderne comme sur le morceau éponyme ou le psyché garage What are the Odds. Le psychedelique et chamanique Journey to Dog Star très Black Angels nous rappelle à la spiritualité de ce temple suspendu dans les airs et l'incartade soul de Sunday fera immédiatement écho à tous ceux qui ont dévoré l'album Omnium Gatherum des King Gizzard et son morceau d'ouverture The Dripping Tap.

Vous l'aurez compris sous ce vernis crepusculo-spirituel qui recouvre quasiment tout l'album, Death Valley Girls continue de faire transpirer une énergie psyché rock teintée d'une efficacité pop dans les vocaux très marquée par les 80's et aussi surprenant soit-il une parfaite cohérence surgit de ce mélange des genres. Bravo !

Poppy