#her hair... the fish crown... obsessed

[abyssalhuntersnerd]

Alchemaniac, Skadi's official artist posted a new illustration to celebrate Skadi's birthday!

Source and be sure to check out Alchemaniac's Twitter!

[themotherofhorses]

Hiiii wanted to request Dark Aemond x Mermaid reader.

Reader is from house Manderly [ their flag had a merman in it ] and Aemond finds our her secret so he blackmails her father into marrying her.

Also some smut too maybe breeding kink of sorts.

even the whales fall prey to men.

pairing: dark!aemond targaryen x fem!mermaid!reader

warnings: very much nsfw. explicit language. blackmailing on aemond's part. forced marriage. dubcon. breeding kink. allusions to violence and death. mentions of pregnancy.

notes: dark & obsessive!aemond targaryen makes my head go brrr. also this smut will totally suck and i take full responsibility for it.

masterlist

The sea is much colder than usual, and across the winter sky hangs a thick blanket of clouds, dark as smoke.

It will snow soon, your mother had said at breakfast, bundled up in all her warm furs while you broke fast together. Today may be the last day we are able to swim for a while, so do make your peace and say all your goodbyes to your grandfather.

You sit on the jagged rocks that stand strong in the waters, watching as your mother and sisters finish with their own wreaths. Yours lays draped across your lap, weaved from rosemary and sea kale and the pretty blackthorn that bloomed on the nearby cliffs. The whales were making one final visit to White Harbor before leaving for warmer waters, and it was tradition to see them goodbye, and to flower them with the newly made wreathes and long garlands. It would not be until the early summer months that they would return.

“Little fish,” your mother calls out for you, already knee-high deep in the bitter sea waters. Your sisters did not wait for neither you nor her, deciding on a small race between each other. “Lost in thought, my little love?” Her face is soft and sweet, with two dimples on both cheeks, “Come or we’ll miss them!”

You were born a Manderly, under the cold moon, on the White Knife. On your first nameday, a great storm wailed outside the New Castle, crushing your lord father’s fleet to kindle and drowning the port city. Some said it was the Stranger waging war against the Father and the Warrior, high in the heavens, while others claimed the old sea god Caraxes was celebrating the birth of a new granddaughter.

Your father claimed direct descendance from the First Men, while your mother was of the true goldenblood of Old Valyria, a daughter of Caraxes himself. His mermaids, women with silver crowns and dark violet eyes and a fish’s tail for legs. The seamen swore you existed, but the rest of Westeros refused to believe.

Perhaps that was why you never strayed far from the White Knife, and from your mother’s side too.

Then again, your lady mother never faltered in warning you and your elder sisters of the myriad of dangers that came with your blood, and of people finding out the truth of such. She was a protective woman, prideful and beautiful, and a great warrior too. The magic she practiced since girlhood allowed for her to shift her appearances, and when you grew of age, she taught you the different spells and rituals, the small incantations to mumble under your breath, and the ways of honoring your grandfather.  

“Be smart about it,” she cautioned, though not sternly. With a gentle palm resting over your cheekbone, she kissed the tip of your nose, smiling down at you, “always be mindful of one’s eyes and ears, my little one. The whales know no true safety, not even in their own home.”

Oh, how you wish to go back and believe her words a little more

It came as a great surprise that, while you were gone, your lord father had welcomed in a guest.

You had not been made aware of such, and neither was your mother, who took it as quite the insult. She immediately sent you and your sisters to your personal chambers, to wash up from the heavy sea salt that clung to your skin and hair, and to dress nicely. “The blue velvet, please,” she said, with a smile that did not reach her purple eyes. “We must look our best.” You had not the slightest clue of who the guest might be, and you ask your eldest sister if she caught a whisper. But she just shrugs. “A Stark, maybe? Or perhaps a Baratheon.”

“But what would they want with us?”

“Maybe a marriage pact is finally being proposed between our houses,” she replies with a sigh, a stupid lovesick grin twisting on her pink lips. She is a maiden of twenty and two, tall and slender and beautiful like your mother, and beyond ready to become a lord’s wife. You make a face at that but say nothing more. Would your mother even allow for that to happen? Perhaps for your sisters, but not for you.

You were still too young, a pretty daylily not yet ready for plucking.

In the Merman’s Court, you find your mother pacing by the castle’s throne, biting at her nails. She looks nervous, with eyes darting between the doors and the households that stood around the hall, cloaked in wools of blue and green. When she finally takes notice of your presence, she drops her hand and draws you into a hug. “Little fish,” and she studies you over, at how you brushed out your silver hair till it shone, and wore your nicest silks. “Very pretty, my little one. Very pretty, indeed.”

You remain by her side, clutching tightly her hand as your sisters soon step inside the hall, all clad in their prettiest gowns, in bright colors of green and navy and white, and giggling amongst themselves. Then come the court ladies and lords, the few maesters that lived in the New Castle, and your father, the Lord Manderly, followed by-

“Prince Aemond of the House Targaryen, son of King Viserys II and the Queen Alicent.”

Your eyes grow wide at the sight of Aemond One Eye, and you subtly shift closer to your mother. He was terribly handsome, you think, shrouded in black riding leather and a long cape that pooled around his dark boots. At his waist hangs a sheathed long-sword. Both his hands are tucked behind his back, shoulders straight and proud, and he wears a smirk. And his hair, every bit the same silver as yours, long and straight and neatly combed.

“Ah, Prince Aemond,” your mother greets. She curtsies, low and graceful to her knees, and you do the same. “Your visit is quite the unexpected one, but we welcome you into our home. Is White Harbor to your liking, my prince?”

He hums. “There are many seamen that dock themselves at King’s Landing, and almost all of them have spoken of the White Harbor, and the beauty that it possesses, particularly during these winter months.” His voice is deep, almost a purr, with a crownlands accent. “Although, my lady, now I cannot help but wonder if your daughters are the reason for that.”

Your mother clicks her tongue, and ever so slightly her eyes narrow. “You honor me, my prince,” she said, “and my daughters.”

Prince Aemond grins at that.

It was your father who spoke next. “My love, the Prince Aemond has arrived with a most equitable offer from the King and Queen themselves.” He sounds quite proud, and incredibly happy at whatever that offer might be. “They are asking for an alliance to be made between our house and House Targaryen,” but he pauses, holding his gaze on your mother, “-through marriage. Prince Aemond is here to choose one of our daughters to wed.”

Your face snaps to your mother, who stood speechless.

“Our eldest is twenty and two, and a fine lady,” your father adds, nodding to your sisters that stood to your left, “and our second-born daughter just celebrated her twentieth nameday. She has no current betrothed, though she is not without suitors, of course.” Your mother holds her tongue, it seemed, choosing to keep you tucked by her side.

But Prince Aemond shakes his head. “Your two daughters are very beautiful, Lord Manderly, I speak nothing but the truth with that, but I have no interest in having their hands,” he says, before focusing his one eye on you. “It is your youngest I wish to have.”

Your mind goes blank.

“My youngest?” Your father sputters. “Forgive me for my words, my prince, but we have not planned to wed her off yet.”

Aemond shrugs. “I do not care about that; it is she who I desire the most.” He looks at your father, tilting his head, sounding curious, “Did you not promise to me any choice of your daughters, for an alliance with my family?” Lord Manderly appears nervous now, and embarrassed as well, with cheeks and a forehead flushing a bright pink. “Well…I suppose so…”

“Mama?” you whisper, tucking yourself behind her. Your fingers tremble greatly, and it soon feels too difficult to breathe. You could feel your sisters’ eyes on you, along with your father’s and the eyes of the many court lords and ladies, and the household guards too. They all feel too judgemental, pitiful and sympathetic. But your mother, she fought back. “No,” she says, loudly. “No, you shall not have her.”

“You deny your own prince?” Aemond asks, incredulous. “Such boldness, my Lady Manderly. But alas, I came to retrieve my bride, and I shall leave with her, make no mistake in believing that.”

“No,” your mother repeats, much louder than the first. Her voice, strong and willful, echoes across the Merman’s Court, sounding every much a crack of thunder, or perhaps even a roar of a she-dragon. “She is still too young, my prince, you must understand that. I will not be separated from my youngest, she is not ready to become a wife-”

“She has celebrated her eighteenth nameday, has she not?” Your mother stays silent, and Aemond grins. “She is well old enough to be my wife.”  

Your mother shakes her head. “Please, you can have my two other daughters, but not her. I refuse it! I refuse it!” She turns to your father, “My love, see with reason! She is not ready! The ocean still needs her, I still need her! Refuse it! I will not allow it! No, I will not-” But Prince Aemond cuts her off, “Refuse it?” He laughs, and you flinch at it.

“You have no power to do such a thing, least you wish to die of treason, a bloody traitor to your crown. To your King and Queen!”

He takes a step forwards, to you and your mother. “I know you, Lady Manderly,” he says, slowly, carefully, as if approaching a wild forest beast, “I know the sort of mother you are. It is very honorable, very admirable, and I thank you, from the bottom of my own heart, for raising my new bride well. But I also know you are very protective of them, and I understand.” Prince Aemond then leans his face close, until his lips linger over your mother’s ear, “-after all, dangers do tend to follow the daughters of Caraxes, do they not? And his granddaughters too. His pretty mermaids.”

He pulls back, a dark grin curling on his lips, his tone seeping in false concern. “What might happen if the world found out the truth of you? And your daughters? How you are not just liars, but neither full humans as well. The creatures the seamen lust after, alive and flourishing on the White Knife…”

Prince Aemond then peers at you from where you stood, his face softening. You timidly meet his eye. “Come, my lady, allow me a better look at you.” You swallow but do as he asked, moving to stand in front of him. “Look at you, a vision of pure beauty. You are so much lovelier than what I imagined when coming here,” and you could not figure out what hurts more: his grip on your upper arm, or the way your mother did nothing.

When you turn to glance back at your lady mother, she looks more a stranger than the woman you knew- weak and humiliated and defeated, almost in tears. It reminds you of something she told you, so many moons ago, back on the beachside. There was a dead whale carcass, fat and bloated, drifting back and forth in the harbor. In its side was buried a harpoon. Your mother shook her head at the sight.

“Even the whales fall prey to men.”

Five days later, Aemond One Eye claims you as his wife.

He allows the wedding to partake on the beach, alongside the ocean where you grew up and loved so dearly. Your mother had pleaded with him to agree on his part to wed you in the customs of Old Valyria, and he could not say no.

I, too, am of the blood of Old Valyria, he said, quite proudly. It will be an honor to both our ancestors, may they bear down on us as we continue our bloodline.

But afterward, he was quick to whisk you away to King’s Landing, to the Red Keep where he swore you rightfully belonged. You only caught a short glimpse of the Queen Alicent Hightower and her father, the Hand, before you were locked you in his royal chambers. And now, you lay across his bed, a flood of whimpers and moans spilling from your pink lips as he squashes his face only deeper between your thighs. “You have the sweetest cunt,” he groans, sucking on your clit as your head thrashes around, and your hips buck against his mouth.

“I knew I had to have you,” he says, while running his tongue along your wet folds. Your taste, it is like no other, and he swears himself a new and addicted man. He will spend the rest of his days worshipping you if the gods allow it. “The moment I saw you, you were mine. The gods could not even deny me of you. Your lips, my sweet girl, they looked so sweet, and I wondered if your cunt would be the same.”

Both your breasts sit in his hands, and he palms at them, sliding his face up to yours, peppering kiss after kiss across your hipbones and stomach. You are so beautiful, he thinks, while pressing his face against your belly. It should be a sin that you are not with child. “I cannot wait till our firstborn sleeps here,” he mumbles, kissing it, “I will make you the most beautiful mother known to the world, and men will envy me for the rest of their damned days.”

His words make you whimper, chewing on your bottom lip as his mouth soon hovers over yours. “Tell me you want my seed,” he demands in a whisper, gripping your chin between his fingers. “Tell me how bad you need it…and I promise you, my love, you will have it.”

“Please…”

His eyebrow raises, and he chuckles. “Please, what?”

He wishes for you to beg for him- for his seed and his love and soul, to plead with him for everything, to come undone and submit yourself- as his woman and wife and the mother of his children.

But you shy away, choosing to hide your face within the pillows, a bit too embarrassed to answer him properly. It is cute until Aemond grows too impatient. His craving for you spanned over too many moons, ever since he took first sight of you swimming in the waters of the White Knife. He toasts to both the Mother and the Maiden, perhaps even the Crone, that you never saw Vhagar flying in the sky above.

“It does not matter,” he says, kissing your forehead softly before moving to your lips. The kiss leaves you breathless, trembling and hungry for more. He flings your legs over his waist, pulling you down to where you lay completely underneath him, “I do not need your permission to seed my wife, and to make her a mother,” and against your lips, he mumbles, “you belong to me, do you understand? You are mine, from this day till the end.” And within a minute, his cock is stuffed deep inside you.

“It is too big…!” you cry, grasping onto his shoulders as he fucks you hard and deep, his thrusts seeming too unforgiving.

Perhaps he is punishing you, though you had not the smallest idea as to why.

“Please! Please, husband- please, slow down!” You bounce beneath him, fingers finding your own nipples as you twist and tweak them. It felt right in the moment, having remembered him doing it only several minutes ago.

“I do not give a shit,” he grunts, his hands resting on your hips, “you were fucking made for me. This body was made for my seed, for my children, now you will take it.” Sweat beads along his forehead as he moans and grunts some more and whines, feeling the way your cunt tightens around his cock. It is perfection, a feeling that was made just for him. “You have evaded my hands for too fucking long, now you suffer the consequences.”

You feel as if your eyes might roll to the back of your skull. Your pants are heavy and hot, and you cannot help the shriek when his fingers pinch your clit, before rubbing his thumb over it. He laughs, quickening his thrusts. “And to think, your mother would have kept this from me, kept you away from me. Ah, should I speak to you the truth, my love?” It is a cruel taunt, as you cannot answer, too overtaken by this pleasure. “I would have burned the White Harbor to the ground if I was denied you. Burned your entire fucking family to ashes if they dared keep you from me. House Strong has gone extinct because of me, maybe they will come up with a new nickname for that. Aemond Targaryen, kinslayer. Aemond Targaryen, house-destroyer.”

He shakes his head, snickering, “No, those are too silly, are they not, my love?”

Your face twists up, all in utter pleasure, and your body tightens too as you cream all over his cock. Soon after, he fills you with his cum, so much it trickles down from your cunt, staining the bedsheets along with your blood. But Aemond is quick to gather it with his fingertip, though, and shove it back in you. “Every bit of it matters, my lady, especially if we wish for you be with child by the next moon.” You try to smile, but you are so exhausted and ruined and all you yearn for is sleep.

“Did…did I do good?” you breathe.

Aemond smiles, and kisses your lips, soft and sweet and loving. He strokes your hair, twirling a silver strand around his finger. You are gorgeous, his beautiful wife, this sweet granddaughter of Caraxes. All his. You and the babe that you will carry soon.

“You did perfect, my little fish.”

[pouringmyheartoutforpaper]

i can’t stop thinking abt like semi vanilla sex with soft boyfriend steve… but he’s obviously daddy because casual dominance mixed into bedroom dominance 😚🤌

and he’s such a dirty talker “i know honey, you’re okay. i know, feels so good doesn’t it? daddy’s here. not going anywhere”

just so sweet and loving🥺

i have a very anxious attachment style and i just want him to hold me and fuck me and when i grab on to him he just shh’s me.

HERE IT IS. 'TIS DONE

Euphoria (s.h.)

i am so sorry i got SO carried away when i saw this ask. i had to turn it into a longer fic. thank you so much and i will def be using this again <3

first time fic, smut, fluff, shy!reader, reader is referred to as angel, bc y/n makes me cringe :< I based this off of the stancy sex scene bc steve in that makes me swoon.

steve is a gentleman, first and foremost. so when his angel starts to get desperate, he knows its time to come up with a plan. she doesnt even notice that shes showing it, but of course, steve analyzes her every move. hes worked out what she likes and how she likes it before they even talk about sex. poor angel is shy about all of it. she wants him, really bad. but hes taking things slowly for her own good. shes had one relationship in the past that shes still unlearning, hence why shes so shy around him. learning to look at sex as something enjoyable as opposed to a chore. angel wanted sex with steve, she didn’t dread it like other times.

steve made her feel safe, and genuinely beautiful. he makes her feel like a princess. angel was surprised when he kissed her and it felt good. it was passionate and felt like home. it didnt feel like she was being used, it felt like mutual adoration and love in a physical form. god, it felt amazing. she wanted more.

five months of comfort and bliss later, steve hasn’t made one sexual move on her. he appreciates what she gives him, but he knows they have all the time in the world. he knows shes "it" for him. shes his best friend. his angel will make it onto his lap, but when things pick up she gets shy. why wasnt he making a move? does he not want her?

which brings them to where they are now. steves hands wandering over her body, her propped up on his lap. her pretty sundress that started all this was riding up her thighs. her chest pressed into his. it was getting harder and harder to be a gentleman. he could see her lace bralette through her dress and he was ravenous. every bone in his body was aching to rip it off and kiss her all over. but he wouldnt. he would take her out first. make sure it's perfect. make sure its magical. make sure it's not on his living room couch at three in the afternoon.

“steve” it came out like a whimper “want more”

his breath hitched. and all he could think of was making angel his little wife.

“yeah baby?” he grips her hair a little, and rubs his thumb up and down the little area of skin right below her temple and next to her ear. “i want you too angel… how about ill take you out tomorrow night? and we’ll go from there ,yea? want you to think it through m’kay? ill give you whatever you want, you just have to ask.”

steve picked her up at five. of course, because it's steve, a candlelit picnic was in order. he had everything set up in the back of his BMW. opened the trunk, making sure a blanket was placed down before everything else. he didn't want her to get her dress dirty.

he was obscenely obsessed with the pretty white dress that went just above the knee. it had pretty little frills on the bottom, and a straight across neckline a few inches above her nipples. a shiny gold and pearl necklace, strappy gold two-inch heels angel fished out of the bottom of her closet. he was practically drooling. feeding her chocolate strawberries he bought at the farmers market down the street. she made flower crowns out of the little dandelions around the blanket. his heart full of love for her.

back at steves house, angel changed into her pajamas. some pink silk pants and one of steves sweaters. he made some tea and put out her favorite snacks on the coffee table for when she came back down. snuggling up to him and thanking him immensely for her day, and allowing her to stay over. to which of course he told her that he should be thanking her.

hours and hours of hugs and kisses that lasted a little bit longer than intended later, it was around eight at night.

"honey, do you wanna get ready for bed? i can put on a movie for us in my room if you want?" steve whispered as gently as he could into angels ear, lips brushing over the shiny earrings she was wearing.

"yes, please. thank you" it came out small, she was nervous. he can tell. he took her face into his hands, rubbing at her cheek lightly.

"listen to me doll, if you just want to watch a movie or cuddle or- just- whatever you want to do, I wont be upset. at all. i promise. i don't want you to feel nervous."

she smiled. " 'm not nervous,-" a little quieter, looking down at her socks, "im excited. just scared that I wont do a good job."

"hey, thats not what it's about babe, there's literally-" he scoffed, "- no way you could do anything wrong. promise." his hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her like she was a princess, making her laugh again. "if you want something just let me know l'right? if you're even like a little tiny bit hesitant you don't even have to say anything okay? no big deal" he held his hands up, emphasizing his last statement.

she gave him the biggest sweetest kiss in the whole wide world, the kind that made his brain go fuzzy and gave him a high that nothing else in the world could.

"c'mon babygirl" he broke the kiss, "gonna lock up the house, kay? go ahead and go upstairs 'nd lay down. ill put a movie on."

as he made his way around the house, steve went over everything he knew she loved in his head. images of her heat rushing to her cheeks, eyes blown wide, pretty thighs pressing together. steve knows what he's doing in bed, and he knows that. so he's not too nervous about his performance. he knows he can satisfy his angel, and he's anticipating every second of it. but the thought of undressing her, seeing her exposed and beautiful, had his breath hitching and his jeans getting tighter as he climbs the stairs to his bedroom.

a soft knock on the door, "honey, can I come in?"

"yes steve"

"hey baby-" and that was all he could get out before his jaw dropped and his pupils blew to two times their original size.

there she was, standing in his bedroom, with that same heat in her cheeks, same blown-out eyes. but this time, his angel was draped in a sheer lace robe that was hanging open, revealing her bare skin donned in sheer, floral lingerie. her nipples peaking through the fabric, skin glowing in the warm light from his bedside. a real-life angel.

"i-" she looked down at her feet, one arm swinging over her stomach in an attempt to cover herself, suddenly feeling very vulnerable, "-i thought it was pretty-"

"you're so gorgeous baby," closing the gap between them immediately, wrapping his arm around her hips, pulling her closer. placing his hand on the side of her freshly clean face. "I love you so much." capturing her lips in a fairytale kiss, trying to express as much love as he can with the gesture.

his arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up into his arms. steve swears he's in a dream. angel's legs wrapping around his waist, grinding her cunt onto his stomach and devouring him.

"do you want me, love? tell me."

"yes please steve, 'm ready"

he lowers her onto the neatly made bed. he prepared his room the best he could when he woke up this morning. fluffing all his pillows, and washing his comforter. a bouquet of roses with her name on the tag laid on his bedside table.

"i love you, so so much sweetheart." his voice is soft and sweet, gentle and loving.

"i love you too."

slow, passionate, and messy kisses. slotting himself between her legs before pulling his shirt off. leaning down to kiss all over her face, smiling into each one. he moves down to her neck, licking and kissing all over. he finally lays his lips onto her jaw and sucks the soft skin into his mouth. a strangled moan leaves her lips. arching her back and running her hands all over his chest. steve pushes off his jeans and places a firm hand on her waist.

poor angel’s eyes widen at the outline of steves cock through his boxers. her face heating up and her hips moving on their own. it was huge. she knew steve was big. lingering stares at his bulge in his jeans (or sweatpants, or god forbid those little shorts) but seeing it so close was amazing.

steves hands traveled up her hips, right below her breasts. he stopped to look up at her. “is this okay lovey?”

“yes steve”

his hands palmed her tits over the veil of fabric. kneading the skin in his hands. placing kisses over both of them and humming into her chest. poor, poor angel. shes moaning at this point. making steves cock painfully hard.

“more please?”

he grinned. cocky as ever. “‘course baby.” before moving down her stomach, kissing a trail all the way down to her thighs. opening her legs and sucking the skin inside. working his way up till he got to her pretty, pretty cunt.

his soft breath on her. her scent flooding his senses and making him swoon. all he could think about was the beautiful angel in front of him, and how bad he wanted to eat her pretty pussy.

“can i kiss you here?”

her face flushed and mouth open above him made him melt. “please” she sighed, desperate.

his lips came down to place a kiss right on the front of her panties, before moving upwards to her pretty nipples. his jaw clenched from fighting the urge to devour her. kissing each of them before reaching to unhook her bra, asking her sweetly if he could take it off.

“yes steve, i love you”

shes just so adorable and desperate he just adores her. unhooking the floral fabric and sliding it off her arms. he gazes at her pretty tits, red around the nipple from how sensitive she is, and a small gasp falls from his lips.

“so beautiful baby. my good girl.” and angel is bucking her hips up towards him at his praise. unbelievably horny and already a little cockdrunk. “yeah, you wanna be my good girl? let me make love to you sweetheart.”

“i love you stevie,”

“i love you angel, always” and hes so content. adoring her, touching her, loving her. he moves down to her panties again, warm breath on her swollen clit. “is it okay if these come off angel? you look so beautiful in them, but I just wanna see you hon.” smiling fondly when she lets out a little “yes please.”

he hooks his thumbs onto the waistband, pressing kisses all over it before sliding them off. angel moaned when her cunt was hit by the cool air. steves eyes on her like he was going to ravish her. she was soaking wet, clit red and swollen, clenching by itself every few seconds. “so pretty,,,can i touch you here? ,,please baby.” briefly sitting up to admire his angel completely bare. cock throbbing and heart pounding.

“please d-stevie” and of course he knows what she was going to say. angel has called him daddy before, mostly jokingly, but hes an observant lover. so obviously he notices how much angel loves it when he takes care of her. he expected her praise kink, and he expected her to let “daddy” slip out once or twice. everyone called steve daddy sometimes, as a joke. but he liked it a little too much when she did it.

he kisses her sweetly, lips tangled with angel’s. before moving down to her pretty pussy. licking his lips before gently touching her folds, opening up her pretty flower. she whined and moaned. pretty little head filled with only thoughts of him.

"so pretty baby, so fucking beautiful. love you so much" reaching one of his hands to hold hers firmly, grounding her in reality. kissing up her thighs before coming back up to kiss her. "is everything okay?"

she smiled, both of their hearts warm and content. "yeah stevie. i want you."

passionate, loving, mind-blowing, earth-shattering kisses that stopped time for the next twenty minutes. his hands roamed all over her, her fingers twirling in his hair, making him moan into her mouth

steves fingers started to drag down her stomach, goosebumps decorating her skin as his palm rests on her clit. taking her bottom lip into his teeth before kissing her deeper. steve wants to get her ready for him, but shes so ready for him to let go and fill her up. angel's fingertips trailing down his happy trail, dipping under the waistband. pouting at him.

"what'd i tell you love? ill do anything for you, you just have to ask me." and he was right. he didn't do anything unless she specifically asked for it, which was why he was still straining against his boxers.

"want it off." pushing the fabric down unsuccessfully. pout still very prominent.

"thank you babe," and hes picking her up off the bed and switching their position swiftly. "you want to do it or me angel?"

"me! me." she said a little too quickly, making them both giggle a little. she leans up to kiss him, still grinning. pulling the waistband down his hips, slowly exposing more of him. just seeing the first few inches of skin showing had her head spinning and her face heating up. steve places his hand on her face as he lifts his hips a little allowing him to get rid of the extra fabric. moaning as his cock hits the air. springing straight up and lifting a weight off his shoulders. so delighted he almost didn't notice his angel's face. her eyes glassed over, mouth opening subconsciously. gazing up at him and letting out a small whimper. admiring him completely, the prettiest cock in the world.

"steve..."

"i know beautiful, y' look so pretty. cmon lovey, give me a kiss." maneuvering her face back to his. a soft grip on her hips, kneading the skin and rubbing up and down her back. heat pooling between their legs and flushing their skin. angel's fingertips trailing up the soft skin on his chest, gripping and kissing him everywhere the position would let her. his fingers find her cunt again, fucking her open on his hand slowly. her mouth open and moaning into his mouth.

"steve, steve, steve" she pulls away from his lips, staring at his flushed expression. "I wanna help you."

"fuck- alright sweetheart. go easy on me babe, want to stay like this forever." shifting his weight to make her as comfortable as he could. her lips trailing down his stomach, kissing and trailing her nails down his sides, making his hips jerk.

"can I touch you stevie?"

"i-" a deep breath racking through his body, "i'd love that baby."

the feeling of her lips kissing the neatly trimmed hair around his cock has him gripping the bedsheets. throwing his head back and groaning before immediately forcing himself to look back so he won't miss anything. gasping when her hand wraps around him, thumb and index finger lightly brushing the tip of his cock. "jesus christ babe. yeah,,, good job baby; keep going."

and she does just that, stroking him from the base of his cock all the way up to the tip. he's moaning filthily, almost embarrassingly. her lips meeting his tip in a soft kiss, making him shake a little, smiling down at her.

he has to pull her off of him when it gets a little too much for him. he still wants to last another hour or two, and with the way her mouth is moving on him makes him think otherwise. rubbing her shoulders as he pulls her back up to him, kissing her sweetly. flipping their position to where he's hovered over her. pressing their foreheads together.

"you want me to keep going hone-"

"yeahh-" it's a long and drawn out whimper. a soft smile and a chuckle leaving his lips in response, leaving them both giggling a little bit. giggles that quickly turned into moans when his hands went back down to her cunt, kissing her as softly as he could once again. his lips pressed against hers, making them both feel hazy and soft.

"okay baby, you gonna relax for me, yeah?" his hands coming back up to her torso, stroking slowly and sensually. moving down to her hips, lifting them up and placing a pillow underneath her. his angel's cunt exposed on display for him. his wandering hands back onto her body, leaning down to kiss her. pressing their bodies together, her soft tits against his chest, bare skin pressed together, making his breath hitch. his cock starting to press against her clit, creating friction as he started to rock against her sex. his angel whimpering and quivering from how sensitive she is.

"shhh, ive got you baby. ive got you. that feels good yeah? i know honey. god- you feel so good baby. good girl. my good girl." her pussy pulsating and contracting at his praise.

"want more steve, more please, i want you inside of me, please."

his eyes roll back into his head a little bit, feathering kisses onto her collarbones before leaning back up just enough to look at her. savoring the way her face turned red, a soft flush over her chest and neck. all the way down to her vulva, flushed and swollen with arousal.

"yeah baby? yeah? you want me inside you honey? want me to make love to my pretty girl?" voice breathy and adoring.

a whisper. soft enough that he could only hear because he was so in tune with her. "please daddy, love you stevie, please."

"oh baby, -fuck" stroking his cock before lining himself up with her lips, spreading her arousal around with his tip. "deep breath for me sweet girl, deep breath. ive got you okay? gonna take care of you. make love to my pretty baby. tell me if you want me to stop babygirl, ill be gentle with you, 'kay? ive got you."

finally, steve grabs onto her propped-up hips, kneading them soothingly. rubbing up and down her torso while he spreads her cunt open. legs open wide for him as he slides his thick cock inside her. the head of his cock inside her as she lets out a moan thats almost a scream. the stretch is euphoric. slightly painful, but it just fit so good inside her. making her throw her head back, giving steve a good view of her neck and tits.

his jaw slack and head thrown back in pure bliss. loud moans leaving his lips to match hers before leaning back down to her face.

"shh, shh, i've got you baby, good girl. i love you so much. you okay?" his cock halfway inside, massaging her clit with his thumb. working her open around him.

"'m okay stevie, want more please- steve!" his angel begged him. her voice desperate, making him shudder. he moves his hands up to hers, intertwining their fingers and rocking his hips into hers. leaning down to kiss her while he bottoms out inside her. her pretty cunt fluttering around him as he buries himself inside her. his lips moving down to her neck, sucking and biting the soft skin into his mouth. reveling in the way shes reacting, back arching and chanting his name.

"love you so much. god youre beautiful. you feel so good baby. so good." he groaned into her neck. steve imagines this is what heaven feels like. he's so in love with her, an all-consuming, comfortable love that makes him feel completely whole. a passionate love that makes him feel red hot and desperate.

"i love you so much steve, so much. feels s' good." her hand caressing his face, pulling him in for a lazy sensual kiss that makes time stop. his arms pulling her legs to rest on his hips. pulling away slightly to whisper into her lips.

"you want me to move, sweet girl? you feeling okay?"

"im okay steve, are you okay?", he smiles softly, providing a sincere affirmation. "please steve, i want you. all of you. forever."

he has to fight to not tear up at how much her words really affect him. the emotion and passion in the room being shared between the both of them. intoxicating and euphoric.

"i'm so in love with you," his hips pulling back and rolling into her again. moans filling the room, the sound of him making love to her messy cunt flooding his system. a deep, sensual rhythm developing. the trail of hair on his pelvis and stomach becoming increasingly slick. holding each other as close as possible, love flooding them with every intake of breath.

rutting and grinding into her. her hands running down his back and trailing kisses up his chest. gasping when his fingers pick up an unrelenting pace on her clit. working together to bring each other to the edge, enjoying every second of it.

"oh- steve" he could feel his angel's cunt clamping down on him. his cock twitching, so close to finishing. he's been close for the past hour, holding himself at the edge to make sure she finishes first.

"yeah baby? fuck- my good girl. what do you need from me sweet girl?" his thrusts becoming faster and more desperate, groaning and moaning into each others mouths.

"'m close stevie, 'm close"

"i know, i know baby. i love you, i want you to cum for me, sweetheart." the pace of his fingers on her clit remaining constant as she follows his orders. letting her climax build to its peak, babbling and desperate as he continues to work her through it.

"im gonna cum with you lovey, cum for me." and that's all it takes to have the knot in her stomach unravel. white hot pleasure racking through her body, vision blurring, and shes almost certain shes seeing stars.

"steve!" her moans mimicking screams, body writhing and jerking with her orgasm. enough for steve to let himself cum. his own orgasm flooding her cunt. muscles tensing and relaxing, a long, guttural moan falling from his slack jaw, eyelids fluttering shut and back open again to look at the angel in front of him.

euphoria

bodies relaxing and falling into the sheets below them. steve kissing up her neck and pulling her into another time-stopping kiss. still inside of her, holding her close to him and treating her like the most precious thing in the world. rubbing soothing circles into her cheek as he pulls out. comforting her when she whimpers.

"youre the best thing that's ever happened to me. that was so amazing. i love you so much." steve rasped, absolutely beaming at her.

"i love you so much steve, i think i just ascended." sending them both into a fit of giggles and kisses.

"i think I did too babydoll. lets get you cleaned up."

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Smeared Hearts

Credit to @rosellemoon for this oddly, insanely compelling idea about the fluffy, rainbow Storian. I couldn't help myself, so I took her ideas and ran with them.

Here is the link to the original post.

@heyo-428 @cetastars @harmonyverendez Read this, if you’re still interested in the fluffy pen story!

Note:

I did toy around with the order of Rise’s series of events a little, and included elements of Fall. So, be warned: the continuity is by no means perfect, the tone is intended to be more comedic (and sometimes more modern?) than usual, and I wrote this more for the concept than the plot at first. You could consider it a loose chronological series of vignettes, if that’s easier to understand because it isn’t quite a full story. It cuts from scene to scene. Or, rather, it is a story with a lot of scene breaks. Also, this was kind of an impulse fic, so I didn't start with a plan until a little later, but I did edit.

⸻

When Rafal agreed to be named a School Master of the renowned School for Good and Evil, he hadn't expected to become a pet owner, or something of that ilk.

When he initially saw it... it was fluffy and rainbow. Oh, the indignity of it all, of his life. What had he agreed to?

He groaned. The Storian wouldn’t have been his first choice of godlike pens, but he supposed a magical, fluffy pen was better than no magical pen at all.

The Storian drew a heart on Rafal's hand. It was about the size of a coin.

He grimaced.

Why couldn't the pen have chosen a more tasteful mark? A crown, or an ace of spades perhaps. Even an abstract scribble would have been fine, preferable even.

When the Storian drew his brother's heart, Rhian had laughed at its tickle, and the Storian had taken his response as a sign that it was welcome to snuggle up with Rhian every night, beside him in bed like a beloved pet.

Rafal slept alone.

⸻

Rafal had lost all faith in the Storian.

The irritating pen knocked things from tables. It beat Rafal's dish-breaking record within a week. And, it mussed up his hair, and shed all over his robes, slacks, and jackets. If any comparison could be drawn, it was most like a recalcitrant cat, an everlasting thorn in his side.

He couldn't face his students covered in feathery scraps of rainbow fur! The Nevers would ridicule him.

Invest in a lint brush, he noted to himself. That would settle it.

And shave that pen to boot. Not that he could. The little devil was fast, and would punish him for high treason.

Rhian wouldn't mind, he told himself. But, his brother loved that worthless thing. Of course he would mind. The Storian was practically Rhian's child. Rhian's baby talk drove Rafal up the wall. He was so mawkish and cuddly with it, as if it weren't already a combination dust magnet and feather duster that aggravated allergies.

No way would anyone ever see him petting the thing. It was an object, not even a living object, just unusually sentient. It was a patently false imitation of a real animal.

Rafal’s Stymphs were far superior to the pen, and they obeyed him and his commands as any good pets ought to do. Though, he considered the Stymphs more akin to his faithful soldiers, pledged to serve his eternal cause of Evil than well… pets, or whatever the pen was to Rhian.

⸻

Lately, Rhian was becoming obsessed with the Storian, and it worried Rafal.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about Rhian getting attached, only to catch it belly-up, and be forced to fly to the nearest pet store and cosmetic apothecary to replace it with a magic-surgery-modified duplicate before Rhian saw. Getting the last fish to look identical had been one hell of a sleepless night he’d spent in a race to preserve Rhian’s feelings. He’d stayed up to ensure the new pet was in place, and had to bury the old one at the crack of dawn while Rhian was still asleep.

But, with a pen, that couldn't happen. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, he knew the worst had happened far too many times. Rhian tended to kill things with too much love. It was absolutely sickening. He'd overfed goldfish in the past, almost the Wish Fish too, if Rafal hadn't put an immediate stop to it, and he had overwatered various hydrophilic plants from humid, tropical climates.

Rhian didn't have the best track record when it came to pets. Or self-preservation for that matter. He’d struck up conversations with strangers left and right.

A pen could be good for him. It had no expiration date. It didn't even have a mortal life, so no matter how incompetent Rhian was, he couldn't kill it. No responsibility aside from keeping it entertained, no risk of accidentally killing it, something to distract him from Rafal's own wrongdoings. The pen could prove useful in that regard. Yes, he could live with it, he decided.

Then again, maybe the right question to ask was whether it had feelings. Could he insult the pen? And what would happen if he did? He was sure Rhian would be none too pleased. But what about the Storian itself?

⸻

Rafal eyed the heart on the back of his hand. It was glaringly obvious and far too… sentimental. He had to do something about it. Scrubbing vigorously hadn't worked. He'd only succeeded in scrubbing the skin of his hand red, raw, and dry.

Rhian had haughtily told him he needed moisturizer.

Rafal snapped back that he knew. “Go bother someone else with your fussiness, Rhian!”

In the end, he'd bought black, supple, leather gloves, fitting of his look. They molded to his skin perfectly, and they didn't clash with his typical mode of dress.

Rhian accused him of being needlessly "edgy." Well, there was just no satisfying him, was there?

But, Rhian was a squeamish fussbudget, and his opinion held no weight here. So, Rafal wore the gloves. And soon, the years turned to decades, decades turned into a century, and the Woods kept living.

⸻

Rafal wore his gloves every day without fail—until he needed the additional dexterity that could only be afforded by flesh and bone fingers while drowning in the sea amid Night Crawlers.

He tore off the gloves, and in his haste, flashed the rainbow-inked heart at James, James who began to snicker at the thing like it was the most contemptible mark in the world.

"Thought you were Evil. Eh, Master?" James taunted.

"Shut up. It's-it's Rhian’s,” Rafal lied, stuttering through his embarrassment. No need to explain a fluffy pen of all things to James. He'd only think Rafal a dolt.

The heart was so cloyingly sweet, but it still made him feel vulnerable when it was seen, out in the open.

Astonishingly, James’ previously murderous expression softened and its matching intent evaporated. "Guess you wear your heart on your sleeve then. Like the Good do, or as close to Good as you can get, huh? Wouldn't mind saving me then, wouldja?"

Rafal gave the heart a sidelong glance. “Fine,” he muttered unaffected with marked disdain.

In the end, neither of them made it to the underwater prison of Monrovia, which contained the infamous Saders, but no matter. They were both out alive, albeit drenched.

⸻

Suspended aloft, ever an eye, the pen bore witness to a stalemate between the School Master brothers and the Pirate Captain.

The Pirate Captain loped forward. “So, you've got a pen that draws maudlin hearts?” he drawled.

"Yes,” Rafal said through gritted teeth. The leather of his gloves was cracked and split by this point, and creaked when he held a staunch grip. He’d formed fists, but he held himself back. The man didn't deserve a blow to the jaw, yet.

Off to the side, James winced, and drew a great step back to distance himself from his sorcerer friend.

Ferret-boy lolloped into the fray. “Yer magical pen does what?” he piped up, as if he'd been deaf to the Pirate Captain's question.

Him on the other hand—he had it coming for him. Rafal bristled, clenching and unclenching his fist instinctually. His dispassionate gaze morphed into a glare.

“It be drawing that craven, girlish thing on ya hand? Gotta be stark raving mad fer that to ’appen,” Ferret-boy quipped again.

Rhian stiffened, face heating.

Rafal defended, “It's not stupid, fussy, or effeminate. Even if it is, it's my only tie to Rhian at the moment, and I, for one, would prefer to keep it, along with my immortality, if you'll excuse me, pests.” He nodded at James, and turned to leave.

The Pirate Captain lunged for the pen without warning.

The Storian darted away, answering with a sugary jingle. Then, it coiled like a spring, launched, and jabbed the Pirate Captain viciously in the chest.

"Oof," the bested Pirate Captain breathed, clutching his torso.

A true pity that it hadn’t drawn blood, Rafal carped internally.

Self-satisfied, the pen twirled in the air, and flew back to the brothers. It curled up in Rhian's waiting hands like an overgrown, weaselly, color-dyed rodent, its noodly form like a piece of rope gone limp.

Rhian headed back to the School, safely cradling the pen.

Rafal stayed back on the dock to deal with the pirates, and give James a proper send-off.

⸻

Rhian had never taken an interest in women’s undergarments until now, but he was desperate.

He had already sifted through the Beautification classroom’s storage, and had come up with nothing. So, now, he was knee-deep in Dean Mayberry’s dresser drawers that he’d pulled out entirely, and he found himself rifling through her delicates at an alarming rate.

He soon chanced upon what he was searching for, and fished out a pair of airy, white gloves trimmed in lace that she’d worn to a recent soirée. He pressed his lips together grimly. They would have to do. Hopefully, Rafal would be distracted anyway. His new attire could divert Rafal’s attention.

He reasoned to himself that a smudge meant nothing, and hummed to himself nervously. It couldn’t be covering up duplicity. That would be Evil.

He wasn’t Evil.

He buttoned the gauzy, eggshell white gloves up high with their glossy, pearl buttons. Then, he went on his usual rounds over the School grounds, pretending nothing was wrong.

Rhian should have known his brother would first set his eyes on his hands. His glove-covered hands.

⸻

As Rafal flew overhead, approaching the School's clearing, he roughly tugged on his gloves again. Then, he saw something had gone wrong as he glanced down at Rhian from afar.

Rhian clearly had a new, downy, swan-feather outfit, a cloak of pure, shining spun-gold, and something else. Something new. He was wearing dainty, white gloves.

Rafal caught sight of another, unsubtle change through the tower window. He was horrified to find that Rhian had apparently commissioned a golden cage for the Storian while he was gone.

Seemingly, Rhian now tended to it even more regularly, as if he were sure it would grant him a favor, like a genie or a magical creature of that sort would, once caught and released for a wish in exchange for its freedom.

How childish could his brother get?

The moment Rafal's boots hit the windowsill, he peeled off his leather gloves, and noticed that for once, from just minimal friction, the interference of the glove’s coarse fibers, the seawater and his sweat, his heart had smeared.

His heart looked more scrawled than deftly inked. It was a messy blur of rainbow splotches on his pale skin. It didn’t look right, smeared like a stain, an iridescent oil spill, formless and hazy, like liquified beetle wings and mercury.

It was supposed to be as permanent a mark as one from a branding iron. It was a fixed tattoo! It couldn't just be wiped clean away!

Rafal blinked, rubbing at his eyes, trying to clear his tainted vision.

The smudge stubbornly remained.

Something had gone wrong while he was gone. Something sinister.

Rafal stepped into the tower chamber, legging it over the windowsill. He did not observe the cloaked, vampiric man fleeing the scene, memento mori etched on his skin.

Rafal reasoned these circumstances out to himself slowly: Rhian had probably figured that because Rafal never took off his gloves, except in the dark, at night, to sleep, that he'd never notice anything was amiss. But something was. Something grave enough to compel Rhian to cover it up, to erase his mistake.

Their bond had been besmirched by something. By someone. A stranger Rhian had opened his heart to. But was their bond broken?

The implications sank in. If it was broken, he could now be killed.

Rhian flung open the door, and greeted Rafal with cheer, yet he seemed wary.

Uncharacteristically, Rafal reached out to Rhian for a hug, and used the rare moment of closeness to yank Rhian's glove off.

The seams burst with the amount of force he applied and the pearl buttons popped off, catapulted in all directions, clattering to the floor, bouncing and rolling between the stone tiles into every last crack and crevice.

Rhian gasped and tried to shove his hand into a pocket.

Rafal trapped him by the wrist.

Beheld, as sure as day, was a bloodred V slashed in ink, like a scar of rouge in Rhian’s disfigured, melted, rainbow heart stamped around it.

Rhian's hand turned gelid, clammy, and slick in Rafal’s grip.

Someone had replaced him, Rafal concluded, without a word.

Rhian did not even try to offer excuses. It would be too humiliating to explain how he’d let Vulcan violate him during one of their dinners. He blushed at the candlelit memory.

Rafal dropped Rhian’s wrist. “Woe are we,” he sniped bitterly.

Rhian’s eyes welled with tears, but Rafal wouldn’t look at him.

Rafal couldn’t look at Rhian.

In fact, both brothers had fallen silent as the pen scratched away, swishing back and forth like a pendulum.

Rafal glared at the fluffy pen that shivered and flounced and puffed itself up like a fox's tail in the breeze. From across the room he could sense the pen's swift movements as it whisked through the air.

Wisps of shed fluff floated in the sunlight filtering through the silver curtains in spotlit shafts.

He felt the swoosh of the pen's fluff.

It twitched like it was winking at him, and slunk towards his legs like a cat. The pen twined itself around his legs in greeting. For several rounds, it wound itself around him.

He stood uncomprehendingly until his rage got the best of him. He extricated himself from the pen, and couldn’t bring himself to care about brushing the fluff from his slacks.

Rafal jumped out the window, to fly off, and figure things out for himself. The crisp air stroked his bare hands for once, and the sharp wind ripped away the excess fluff, battering his clothes and rippling cloak.

Now, he had to keep his heart in sight at all times, until he reversed this curse. No matter if anyone thought anything while his heart was exposed. They could all go to Hell for all he cared. He was doing this for Rhian.

And to save his own lost heart as well.

⸻

He flew away at full throttle, landed, and set off at a brisk pace, slamming into a boy with golden curls, grey eyes, and a cherub-like face. The exact sort of fellow Rhian would crush on!

“Who are you? Are you the V?” Rafal demanded.

The boy looked confused, and narrowed his eyes, fuming. “Name's Midas," he gruffed, putting up a front. “Who're you?” He stabbed a finger at Rafal's chest.

“Your worst fears,” threatened Rafal placidly.

Midas’ eyes widened.

Rafal shot back up the silver tower, and hurtled through the window, Midas in tow, grasped in his iron grip over the starchy fabric of the boy’s shirt. Coolly, he tossed aside a squirming Midas, who scudded across the room, aided by his sorcery, and left the boy for a moment, vowing to deal with him later.

He turned to Rhian, who stood agape, next.

⸻

Rafal marched deeper into the stone chamber, snatched Rhian's wrist, and dangled his limp hand in front of their faces. “What's this?” he said quietly, menacingly, pressing down on Rhian’s pulse.

He dragged Rhian up to the Storian, and released him.

Rhian stumbled forward, only managing to stay upright with Rafal’s firm hold on his shoulder.

“WHAT'S THIS?” Rafal shouted at the trembling pen, now thrusting his own outstretched, ink-stained hand at the pen.

The Storian, previously backed up against a bookcase, leapt into its cage, and rattled around. It cowered at the back of the cage, against the golden bars.

“This can't be what I think it is. I love him,” Rafal assured the pen feverishly. He sank to his knees in desperation, casting his gaze up at the pen.

Rhian dropped to the floor with him, and looked pleadingly at his pet.

Long and sinuous, the pen performed a twist in midair with a light jingle, as if considering the chastened School Masters before it, contemplating their tale. It moved with broad brushstrokes, white streaks of erasure, fine, gossamer threads spinning through the air, weaving around the brothers’ forearms.

The hearts vanished off their hands.

Rafal flinched, and shielded Rhian.

Rhian quivered, his heart throbbing against Rafal's own pounding rib cage. He gripped Rafal's upper arms, bracing himself behind his brother for the worst, for his precious pet to turn on him.

Yet the pen forgave.

It hovered over their hands, and drew new hearts, the same as it had done a century before.

⸻

Note:

I'd love to know your reactions and thoughts, or if anyone laughed. What specific parts got a rise out of anyone? Did I manage to shock anyone, with anything? I’d love to know what. Feel free to comment anything and ask any questions if there’s confusion.

I hope everything’s up to par. Did anything (specific or not) feel out of character? I didn’t check the books, and I sort of forgot what Hook’s, the Pirate Captain’s, and Midas’ dialogue sound like. If anyone catches any inaccuracies, feel free to let me know. Also, if there's anything else wrong grammatically, or in terms of clarity, please tell me.

[calilk]

Lurking Below

A terrifying encounter with something that was never meant to be perceived by man leads to Grian developing an all consuming, unshakable obsession.

Can be read on ao3 Here

[This is my first fandom writing! Hooray! I had an idea about Grian’s obsession with the mending book, which eventually evolved into this when I was given a creative writing assignment. So apologies if the formatting is kinda wack, I’ve edited it a bit but it wasn’t created with normal fic format norms in mind!!

The sea monster can be interpreted as another hermit, some other abstract idea or just a sea monster.]

The season had faded - the bitter cold of the winter slowly retreated into a slumber, to remain as such until next year. With changing temperatures came changing wants and obsessions; for Grian, that meant this spring, the playful whispers and musical chuckles of waves against the shore seemed almost irresistable. So, after brushing thick swathes of sticky cobwebs from a faded, hewn net and plugging holes chewed by woodlice and termites, he headed to the never ending singing of the sea.

Stretching out for miles all around, the waves playfully pushed and batted at the small - definitely too unstable - boat. The crisp, sea breeze tousled with Grian's hair and skipped along the peaks and troughs of the watery expanse all around. The calm was infectious. Above, clouds glanced down idly and seagulls chattered and screeched as they rode the bucking and prancing wind. Grian took a breath, losing himself in the sheer beauty of it all, before casting his net.

It was just a glitter, many metres below, that caught Grian's eye. The flash of what was probably a school of fish. Eyes glued to the now glassy surface, Grian did not notice as the sea birds ceased their screetching cacophony, noor felt the gentle breeze carrying the reassuring smell of land peter off. The world stopped. The world anticipated. The world beheld as this moment unfold.

Below the surface, a dark shape stirred. An eye opened with the quietest 'snick'. A millennia of silt sloughed off in a cloud. Twisting kelp seemed to pull back, petrified, as the shape began to ascend.

Grian's eyes skittered over the inky depths. There. A movement. G's eyes widened - first in shock, then fear - as the sea floor seemed to rise. Ice cold terror wormed its way through his constricted veins, flooding into his brain and telling him to 'RUN!'. Sweaty hands scrambled and fumbled for oars too slick with seawater to grasp: the shape rose out of the water.

The world exploded into cascading droplets.

Water streamed down it in boiling rivulets. The eye - for it was only the eye - blinked slowly, its bejewelled eyelids glittering in the midday sun. Grian could only freeze, caught in the shadow of this freak of nature, like a fish in one of his nets. The golden fractals in its iris flashed with the sun. Its pitchy pupil seemed to burn Grian's skin with the intensity of its glare: he could do nothing but tremble.

Seconds seemed to seep along like pitch through an hourglass. Days seemed to pass, staring at the hulking, scarred form. Its navy skin was encrusted with layers of barnacles, absent only where silvery scars sliped along the surface of its skin. It breathed; so did Grian.

Slowly, as though pulling limbs from greedy quicksand, the shape descended once more. Grian stared entranced as the water rippled, then ceased. The birds started up their laughter. The wind greeted Grian with a gentle tousle of his hair. The world let out a breath. The world moved on.

Grian did not.

Days of sun and sea evolved into weeks: soft hands became bitten by rope; blistered by salt; crowned by callouses; lacerated by his own teeth. His experience thrummed through his brain - a live wire never to turn off. Winter rubbed her bleary eyes. Grian still fished. Searching. Desperate. Forever unsatisfied.

The season had faded - the bitter cold of the winter slowly retreated into a slumber, to remain as such until next year. With changing temperatures came sour stagnation. The world spun on.

Grian remained.

[ronearoundblindly]

If deep sea mermaid is free in some way she dosent just leave. She liked meeting the team and loves steve .

The time they went in the deepest trench in the world (thanks to tonys tech that went smooth trials and they are able to go there) they are surprised of what they saw assides their intended mission to find the bad guys hiding there as they look around a familiar tail sways and this time it glows

Steve smiled and knew who it was and assured everyone its alright

Tony joked steve fucked a mermaid

Wanda hears someone then at the front part of the submarine there she is Tail swaying in joy while waving her hand as a "Hi!!!!" Tony shrugs " yep shes not hangry

Bucky is also facinated in a curious way "So this is why you took too long punk

Bruce simply stunded theres folks like here here

Nat straight to the point to her" anything suspicious?"

Y/n simply nod and beckons them to follow her with her eletric glowing tail for them to follow her direction there . Is a bad guy hiding here

a continuation of the Sun, Salt, And Shield miniverse. (Also, this ask is from October. I am so sorry it took me so long to get to!) Warnings for action/adventure, vague innuendo, bad jokes (from everyone), and mild language have you met me?. Lightly edited. WC 1.8k

Pairing: steve rogers x deep sea mermaid!reader

"Is that...is that a Segway?" Sam Wilson completely fails to hide his amusement as you test out Tony's motorized way to let you 'walk' on land.

"Heavily modified, but--" Tony takes the handle from you for a second to lower the max speed while you learn "--essentially, yeah."

It wasn't easy. In fact, the part they thought would be the hardest turned out to have a quick fix. You can only breathe outside of the water for so long, so Atlantian technology was formed to fit over your gills and mouth. Thanks, Namor.

Then Tony was faced with a wholly new problem. You live in the deep sea, naturally, under a great deal of pressure, and as a non-bipedal lifeform who maneuvers that fast underwater, outside of the water, you are made up of over 250 lbs of muscle. Most of that lies in your tail which they've witnessed crush a man's skull on impact.

That...should not make Steve feel the things he does. It really shouldn't.

He did always think he'd fall for a strong woman though. So. There's that.

You listen carefully to Tony's instructions, eyes shielded by enormous black sunglasses the billionaire obsessed over designing. He made you look like an old Hollywood movie star--albeit with vivid green hair and pale purple skin--and Steve wonders if the style was a purposeful jab at him.

"Right, the direction is pretty sensitive at the moment," Tony slowly explains to you. "You've got to really control your weight distribution so it doesn't overshoot your target."

That three-layer grin comes out in an instant, and you nod. No hesitation, barely a glance around, you start the contraption rolling, circling Sam, then Tony, then Steve with pinpoint precision, pausing in the middle of them all to cock your head.

"Coral reefs require sharp turns."

Tony stares at you, the nine-foot-long crown-to-fin specimen before him. It's clear he both adores and loathes how adept you are despite your wildly different backgrounds. You've grown on him. A lot. So much so that Tony has not made a fish-fucking joke in two whole weeks.

Steve won't chance calling attention to it though. The more he lets Tony delve into tech to keep you here longer and tech that allows humans to be where you live longer, the more Steve gets to see you. Win-win.

"Show off," Tony grumbles with deeply proud eyes. "Let's see what you can do then."

Steve himself has never gotten to go in one of the new Divers. Tony always insisted on manning the crafts himself until all the bugs were worked out. The first prototypes fit one person (one not-very-large-person) anyway, so it wasn't going to be Steve piloting one.

The new models can fit approximately six people comfortably.

While Namor's city has a bright source of light to help surface folk see, you and your people function without.

That means a mix of infrared, night-vision, and sonar are all the team can use to 'see' your home.

Unfortunately, they aren't here on a social visit. A mutant named Tiger Shark is rumored to be hiding within a few hundred nautical miles. It's imperative he be found.

As great as Tony's tech is, it's clunky and slow compared to how fast the mermaids can swim and search. You can also survive at greater depths than Atlantians while maintaining your speed. There's a boing-hollow tap above Steve's head and he snaps to look through the low-light adjusted glass.

You wave enthusiastically before pressing a webbed hand to the window.

"Hey, doll," Steve whispers automatically.

Tony groans. "Right. Grariel, we are looking for the man--uh, thing I sent you a picture of. Have any of your people seen him before? Do you know if he's been nearby?"

The pressed hand turns into one held-out finger as you look away from the Diver. There are bizarre noises that send the sonar haywire until Tony switches it off.

Your tail glows again, something Steve hasn't seen since the first time he met you in the Raft, scales lifting slightly to show bright pink bioluminescence.

And then magic.

As far as is possible to see in the Diver, lights of different sizes sprout up in shades of blue, pink, and purple. Your people. They're telling you what they know. It's the first time Steve considers you might be a leader of your own people, too. It's his turn to be proud like Tony who looks duly impressed.

Quickly, faster than it can register in the infrared scans, you're off like a shot, and Steve feels almost sick to his stomach trying to follow your deft swimming.

"Well, ok," Tony scrambles, "I guess we're doing this damn thing."

He pushes it, but the Diver cannot move anywhere near as fast as you can. Steve loses the light of your tail and stiffens, gripping a hand over Tony's shoulder.

"I got her. I got her, Cap." Tony flicks a few switches on the panel in front of him. "She's a good girl. Keeps her tracker on. We'll catch up."

It takes too long to get to you once your tracking signal stops advancing, but then Tony grimaces.

"Uh, slight problem. She's ascending."

"How is that an issue," Nat asks. "Can't we help her more in shallower water?"

"Based on her heart rate--"

"Just get us there," Steve booms, franticly searching the scans above them for signs of you. The water shines blue now, and they can see some light, but Tony has them at a pretty sharp angle to get higher.

"Found 'em. Right there."

Suspended in cerulean blue, it looks like you're dancing, swirling and circling with odd twists and turns. It's almost beautiful until--

Bucky croaks. "Is that blood?"

"WHAT? Tony--"

"Hold your horses. It's red," Tony dismisses.

"Yes, blood tends to be that color," Steve deadpans. "Now help--"

"Black," Tony chirps. "Your girlfriend's blood is black, for the record."

They progress closer, and then a much darker gush of blood floats in the liquid sky but remains mostly red. Tiger Shark is a transformed human, after all; his blood remains close to human.

"Yeah, that's about what it looked like when she ate Chuck..." He swivels in his seat. "Do you know, I still can't buy ground chuck? Almost put me off burgers. Feels so wrong."

"Focus, Tony."

Swift like a cheetah on land, you roll your tail around Tiger Shark's legs and squeeze, stretching out behind him to grab at the corners of his mouth and below the huge shark's jaw. It's as if you purposefully display your catch, sharp ends to your long webbed fingers digging at the mutant's thick flesh.

"Atta girl," Tony cheers.

You beam but aren't looking at them.

Something huge, big enough to shadow the Diver completely, whips over their heads.

Another mermaid.

Actually, a male, something which Steve has never seen before. He supposes he knew they existed, of course, but this guy is enormous. Possibly two feet longer than you with a body almost twice as wide.

He completely blocks their view of you for a few seconds.

"We got something to secure him with," Tony announces to your comm.

When the merman flicks his tale to move away, you sport your Hollywood shades with gusto. The male brought you your sunglasses, and suddenly, Steve's...more than curious.

The Diver ejects a grappling hook and you and the male lash the unconscious Tiger Shark to the top of the submersible.

You are hugging the new arrival, who keeps his head facing down away from the surface light. Whatever the conversation, which is completely incoherent noise to everyone in the Diver, it's very animated. The male is protective, holding your shoulders and looking at your wound with a very clear frown.

You bat the guy's concern away and motion toward the sub where four humans watch in confusion.

You touch the center of the male's chest.

"Fah-ther."

Steve swallows hard. That's your dad? Holy shit, he is in so much trouble. People tease him for looking like a Greek statue, but your father is like...is like...really freakin' buff.

Everyone in the Diver stares daggers at Steve, and he knows it. All the years he's been off the ice, all the time he's had to get used to women--well, females, let's say,--and he is not at all prepared to handle Merman Goliath as an in-law, or...uh...sorta...oh gosh.

He raises his hand because he doesn't have any other ideas. "Hi, I'm Steve."

Bucky snorts. "Oh, buddy. Wow."

Too many thoughts flood him at the same time, and Steve freezes in place.

Father? He looks no older than you. Wait. How old are you? Steve's never asked. How long do mermaids live? Do they ever age? Do they just keep getting bigger or is your dad, like, the biggest?

"Tony," Steve finally whispers, "do you...do you know from your research how...?"

Thank goodness Tony takes pity on poor, panicked Steve, not stalling to admit he has no clue what age you are.

You return to speaking (a mix of sounds with rippling shimmers of light along your tail), so you aren't paying attention when Steve bends down to add, "can you though? Can you carbon date her?"

He's heard about science on that. Steve knows it's a thing.

A strange sort of elation blooms on Stark's face, and he turns to Bucky and Nat.

"That counts," Tony yells. "That totally counts!"

"Shit," Bucky grumbles, running his vibranium hand down his face.

Natasha is, for once, genuinely stunned and looking back and forth between Tony and Steve. "I'll be damned," she murmurs.

Steve gives in. "What's happened?"

"You," Tony boasts, "just asked me for dating advice. You asked me specifically to assist you in dating someone, and thus I have won a very, very large bet."

Before Steve can bemoan that, another tap sounds above them. You point to the prize catch of the day.

"Help take in," you say, quickly turning to swim up to the lighter blue waters.

"I've got so much to teach you, Cap. Promise I'll be gentle. Maybe I can teach Grariel a little something about--"

"NO" comes the immediate and emphatic response of everyone else inside.

Tony simply shrugs.

"What a great day," he bubbles, humming as he takes the Diver to the surface right behind your beautiful, ageless tail.

Steve realizes he has so, so many things he wants to ask you about that he'd never thought of before, top on the list being "what have you told your father about me?"

A/N: Tiger Shark is a real Marvel character who I have included in other fics before. It was fun to use him again!

I do not have words to describe how enjoyable this was to write. I just want to torment poor Steve with awkwardness. I can't help it.

I...I may have figured out a way to incorporate...uh, some smut into this universe...but I don't know if that's a thing y'all would read. I'm gonna hold off on that.

[Next Part]

[Main Masterlist]

[totkdaily]

Day 71: Shark Combat, Zora's Domain Healed, Link Sleepy

We unlock the fourth and final water pump for the Water Temple mid-morning.

It's been great weather the last few days, absolutely gorgeous skies. The last time I spent this long in Zora's Domain, it was perpetually raining. It's nice to see their beautiful architecture in the light. 

We head back up to the central panel. Time to see what's under all that sludge. 

It's just… a little guy?? But - oh. It has a shark. 

We engage. 

After a hard battle, the creature explodes into Gloom.

The last of the sludge dissolves. The waterfall runs clear. We did it. 

Now, for Sidon to receive his birthright. 

We approach the secret stone suspended at the altar of the temple. 

A vision. Sidon's ancestor in that dream space, the Sage of Water.

She shows us her perspective of the Imprisoning War. And she shows us her conversation with Zelda afterwards. My Zelda. Warm, determined, golden hair glowing in the sunlight. This is my Princess. 

Sidon accepts his birthright, and I welcome his avatar by my side with honour.

We head back to the domain - Yona will be worried.

King Dorephan is healed, the sludge disappearing from his wounds as it vanishes from the waterfalls of the domain. All is well once again in Zora's Domain. 

And yet, things still change. Dorephan grants the crown to Sidon. He has proved many times worthy of it. He announces the domain's support against the Demon King and his marriage to Yona in the same breath - he never did do anything slowly!

After the announcement, we discuss what we know. He agrees that it was not truly Zelda who attacked Dorephan, and he agrees that we need to know more. 

I wonder if Tulin or Yunobo have found out anything? It's been over a month since I left Goron City. And almost two since I left Rito Village. I should do some base-touching once I've said my goodbyes in the domain. 

Muzu is headed to Lookout Landing - I'm sure I'll see him there. Khira and Chroma are now Queen's Attendants, and have been tasked with finding my Zora's helm - which is in a sky fish? Could it be the same sky fish which held the puzzle of the droplet before? I should find it, if only to stop Khira from bullying Chroma about it. 

Tottika mentions a cave with a glowing rock - a shrine? It's southwest of here, in Ralis Pond Cave. I'll make a note. 

Impa is here! She wants to know if I've seen the geoglyph in the Gerudo Highlands that looks like a person - I have not. I should go there next, anyway. Gerudo Town and Lurelin are on Purah's list of places in trouble, and I haven't been to either yet.

Yona is working with Jiahto to also find the Zora greaves - they think they might be at the waterworks. I suppose I can visit again.

Cleff ate a bright-eyed crab whole, and is obsessed with them now. He wants ten, but I only have three. Maybe one day. 

Fronk's wife Mei went to a floating place for fish, somewhere across the East Bridge. Is this the same wife who once jaunted all the way to the Rutala River? I'm sure she'll be fine, but I'll keep an eye out. 

Now, to get to that sky fish island, I should go… actually, no. I'm exhausted, and the sun has set.

I need to sleep. I head to the inn, but Kodah wants to tell me a story he and Finley found in an ancient manuscript. It sounds like there's a shrine at Tarm Point, southwest of here. That's nice. Finney and Sasan are already checking it out, so I'll leave it to them for now. Now… sleep.

[littlefluffbutt]

Crochet MerMay! Decided to do some character ones this time around:)

First up is Live Action Ariel! I had the perfect yarn color for her tail, yay! Went off the doll for her top. I had hoped to use the Barbie hair twirler/braider thing to make her twists but had to do them the old fashioned way, they look so cute! I also made her little bag and Flounder .

I even made her a dinglehopper! (she can’t hold it but it does fit in her bag).

Next is Wednesday Addams (middle niece is OBSESSED with the new show). Even though the new one inspired this gal she is based more on the old comic version and thus no eyelashes. I know it’s like a Puritan Collar but the points look like fangs. I wavered between a piranha and a shark for her fish friend but decided shark was cuter.

Teefs.

Last is inspired by Barbie! I didn’t realize a LOT of the older Mermaid Barbies (80′s-90′s) have aqua or gold colored tails, not pink! But mine is pink:) She comes with a crown and a “seaweed” skirt...

which doubles as a scrunchy! She also has two barrettes-a star fish and a sand dollar:)

They hope you have a nice MerMay day!

[pjplayground]

Freckled Fish

It's your favorite jock fish! She's my new favorite redesign I swear.

Bio: Undyne lives in a household of boys. She's the second eldest child between four brothers and her father preaches the importance of rough housing. Sports and physical activity are very important in her family, as well as veterans - both her father and grandfather were veterans who served. She one day hopes to serve just like her predecessors.

Basic Info Full Name: Undyne Diane Lupento Nicknames: DeeDee, Crispy (by PJ only) Age: 18 Height: 5'10" Gender Identity: Cisgender (female, she/her) Sexual Orientation: Homosexual Medical Issues: None Can't Leave the House Without: Phone, wireless earbuds, some kind of ponytail holder, water bottle, protective key chain

Relationships Paperjam - Best friend, basically siblings Skrunkly - Friend, bread gremlins Hunter - Friend, recommends them new shows to watch Wallace - New friend, getting used to the weed smell Romper - New friend, loves their drum set Papyrus - New friend, a very normal intensity level friendship Starbone - New friend, wishes she had his audacity BonBon - Friend, helps her get over her ex Outer - Friend, sleepover planner extraordinaires Alphys - Crush, admires from afar

Miscellaneous Little Facts - She absolutely loves rock music, but has a soft spot for J-Pop. - Her current obsession is an action anime called "Ladybug's Guide to Kickin' Ass with Subpar Skills." - Speaking of anime, her favorite genre is action, but she'll watch any kind. - Undyne has a small collection of manga on her book shelf, and she fully expects that collection to keep growing. - Her older brother's name is Bishop, and her younger brother's names are Jack, Rook, and Grant. - I softened up her colors from her previous design because I wanted her to look more approachable and friendly. - She currently has the most wins out of her brothers' competitions, and she ain't about to take off her crown. - In addition to occasional strength training, she also plays tennis on the school's team with PJ. - Undyne mostly wears atheleisure wear, but will occasionally wear a t-shirt and jeans. - The little red dots around her are scales that are colored differently, making it appear like she has red freckles. - "Crispy" is a nickname that spawned from an inside joke between her and PJ. - In terms of her favorite kind of rock music, sounds heard from the band Starset are a good frame of reference. - Undyne easily gets caught up in competition if not pulled back down to earth. - Undyne is a fresh water monster, compared to Romper who's salt water. - Fun fact about her specific species in this universe! Her stomach acid is strong enough to handle raw meat, but doctors don't recommend this for obvious reasons. PJ is the same! - Because she is a water based monster, she must stay moist throughout the day. Hence the water bottle. - She has an amazing relationship with her dad, but she never knew her mother. - Undyne and PJ have such a strong sibling dynamic with their friendship, it's to the point where people suggesting they should date makes them gag and laugh. - She keeps the long hair because she, and I quote: "Loves the wind in her hair while she's leaving the competition in the dust." - Her prized possession is a leather jacket her dad handed down to her when she was 13.

[cxyotl]

HI OK SO

first up we have . ok you need the context first. I go by Adam frequently yeah. but I’m also REALLY bad at finding names I like for ocs. so. None of these are self inserts but they’re all. theyre all called Adam. (But like /gen bc self inserts are cool)

Oc #1:

parrot hybrid. you know the dark blue with yellow parrot? imagine that. they have the taloned hands and feet that avian hybrids usually have, but they aren’t really scaled. it’s more like bone/nail structure and heavier calluses. theyre around 5’3 but 5’7-ish when tiptoeing (biological for reaching/take-off/intimidation) and a wingspan of 12-13 feet. darker hair and eyes to blend in with vegetation and dark plumage.

humans also have these really cool bioluminescent stripes along our bodies and I though, hey what if adam-1 had that but a little brighter? so imagine like really really faint scars that work in an camouflage way. for a lot of mobs (which I headcanon to be able to see infrared and other wavelengths depending on the mob) they can pick up on those things to find players/food, and so they would have slightly brighter ones that help them to blend in with colorful surroundings.

very picky eater, and sensitive to lots of sugars and wheats (parrots + cookies = hell no). mainly a carnivore when it comes to diet.

I’d say their personality is closer to omnivert. they’re very loud when everyone else and quiet with people they trust/care for. a prankster ofc. creeper noises do numbers among the crowds (evryone funkingf hates it /lh). they don’t settle down. they like a small base and exploring.

they have a prosthetic leg from the knee down that’s netherite (bc having a prosthetic break is SHIT). It makes cool clank clink noises when they walk on hard surfaces if they don’t have leather bindings for talons n such on.

not too many scars. they usually avoid conflict but they have one along their arm from a badly healed break.

that’s all I really have for 1 unless you want me to go into bone structure and anatomy n such ^^

Oc #2:

I got a little obsessed with sculk when it came out so their colour palette + looks reflect that. imagine like the “pillars” on the sculk shrieker but a little smaller and put it on their skull. like a crown almost. very dark hair. BLIND gotta make em blind. then imagine taking pitch black paint and dipping it to your elbows. their arms look like that. then the veins a bit up the arms fade from black to a sculk-blue (all vv muted though bc veins are under the skin ofc). I like the idea that the pillars would be someone else on the body too but I’m not sure where.

short! they live underground ofc they’re gonna be short. they also navigate through sound like the sculk but it’s closer to echolocation than getting your senses triggered by a sound.

low empathy, very matter-of-fact and literal. herbivore too I’d like to think they eat glow lichen and roots from the lush caves. might eat a fish or two if they can get access to one. xp doesn’t do much for them bc they’re a sculk shrieker hybrid and not a sculk one.

lots of scars!! mob run-ins, falling of ledges, etc. there’s one all along their back that looks like poorly healed roadrash from accidentally tumbling off a cliff edge.

ok I have three more hybrid ocs (another avian, a ravager, and a phantom) but I’m getting tired of typing mmy fingers hurt ^-^ feel free to tell me about yours!!

I LOVE YOURS WAILS AND CRIES

ok i got like four. first is an aardwolf hybrid. they’re a cowboy named rigby and i lov them. standard aardwolf coloring w bright yellow eyes and a red bandana. they have a touch of the tism and try to stay kinda low when they can. no big or visible scars bc they run the second they sense danger. mostly a thief and collector.

second is a cat hybrid. she’s actually a mix of two of my very first minecraft ocs! her name is gapple, shes a bobcat, and shes got one yellow eye and a purple prosthetic eye bc she was hit by a torch as a kid and that burned her eye badly. gapple is more of the fighter and shes got way more scars than rigby. notable her face where the torch burned her and her shoulders from wrestling mobs.

third one is edmund. hes my actual oldest oc had him since i was like 8 years old or smthn. hes an average enderman but he has no enderpearl so he cant teleport. taller than most endermen and incredibly nerdy. i miss him.

lastly there’s marco. hes a creeper hybrid and edmunds boyfriend. marco can’t blow up like other creepers can, not bc hes a hybrid but bc hes missing the key components to be able to do so. hes shy and a bit jumpy.

[victormilanbooks]

Gods of Dinosaur lords

God’s of Dinosaur Lords 

Adan, Aidan, Trueno, Thunder -

Duke of the creators: Zhen (Thunder) The Oldest Son.

 Represents Manhood, commerces, wealth and impoverishment, agriculture, and Storms. Also domestic beasts. Know for his expansive, 

Aspect: a handsome man with black hair and brown skin, clad in green tunic, a dog beside him, his feet hidden in clouds. 

Sacred Animal: dog

Color : green. 

Symbol : a green hammer. 

Bella, Belle,  Lady Li

Countess of the creators: Li (fire) the middle daughter.

Represents Beauty (and its inevitable withering), the arts, truth, lust, passion, and obsession, time and Fire. Also cats. Know for her passion. 

Aspect: a beautiful red-haired young woman in an orange gown garlanded with white flowers, holding a flame in her right palm and mirror with a cross bar in her left hand. 

Sacred animal: cat (depicted as an orange tabby tom)

Colors: Red and orange

Symbol: Beauty’s mirror (a circle on a handle with a cross piece)

Chian, El Rey, The King, Padre Cielo, Father Sky-

King of creators: Qian (Haven) The Father.

Represents fatherhood, rule, (and misrule), power, and the Sun. Also dinosaurs. Known as his majesty. 

Aspect: A Sturdy, white bearded man with gold-trimmed scarlet robe and golden scepter, sitting on a throne. 

Sacred Animal: Tyrannosaurus Rex

Color: gold

Symbol: a golden crown

Lanza, Lance 

 Count of the creators, Kan (Water) The middle son. 

Represents war and peace. Aggression and mercy, victory and defeat; and Serene Water (ponds, pools, rivers) Also war beasts. Known for his valor. 

Aspect: a handsome young black man in full blue plate, with one foot on a corpse, holding a long-sword point-down.

 Sacred animal: Triceratops 

Colors: Black and blue 

Symbol: an inverted longsword. 

Maia, La Madre, the Mother, Madre Terra,  Mother Land

Queen of the creators : Kun (land) The mother.

 Represents Motherhood, soft power, birth (and death), healing and Paradise. Also mammals. Known for her compassion. 

Aspect: beautiful grey-haired matron in brown-and-gold gown, holding a sheaf of wheat in one hand and a sickle in the other. 

Sacred Animal: horse 

Color: brown

Symbol: a wheat sheaf. 

Maris, La Dama Fortuna, Lady Fortune-

Baroness of the Creators: Dui (lake)- the youngest daughter. 

Represents Fortune and the sea, justice, fate, mariners, gambling, balance and imbalance; Equilibrium, and Wild Water. Also fish and swimming reptiles. Known for her caprice.

Aspect: a slight albino woman with blue eyes and long, windblown white hair, dressed in a white robe, with the taijitu in her raised left palm. 

Sacred Animals: terrible mouth sea dragon )often shown devouring a man).

Color: white

Symbol: a silver eight-spoked ship wheel

Telar, Laventosa, Windy, La Tejedora de Suenors, Dreamweaver

Duchess of the creators: Xun (Wind) The oldest Daughter.

Represents fabrications and destruction, artisans, sleep and dreams, forests and Wind. also birds and fliers. Know for her vigor. 

Aspect: a woman with long, kinky gold hair in green-trimmed with gown, working a loom, as long-crested dragon above her. 

Sacred Animal: long-crested dragon

Color: Green

Symbol: a golden loom.

Torre, Torrey - 

Barron of the creators: Gen (mountain) The youngest Son. Represents Order (yet he’s the Trickster), law, bureaucracy, priests, smiths, miners, masons, and Mountains. Also burrowing animals. Known for his authority.

Aspects: a powerful blond youth with a gold mail hauberk over a brown tunic, holding a hammer and a shovel. 

Sacred animal: ferret 

Colors: brown and yellow

Symbol: the golden tower.

--- 

Other

Angeles Grises, Grey angels, the Seven: They have the task of maintaining the creator's’ sacred equilibrium on Paradise. They possess remarkable powers of mystic weapons, and when they walk out in the world. They often take a terrifying appearance. They are not humane, and regard all things as straw dogs. 

The creators’ supernatural servitors: 

Michael:

Gabreil:

Raphael:

Uriel:

Remiel :

Zerachiel :

Reguel :

The concepts of the gods:

Victor Milan: “Because the Creators drew heavily on Taoism in creating their own mythos. A thing in effect implies its opposite.”

https://upload.wikimedia.org/.../253px-Yin_yang.svg.png

[mercyisms]

Niche Nona Liveblogging: Day Five - Ch. 26

All right, baby. It’s time. It’s time to unhinge the whole mind. Rip those hinges right off. Let the brain flap in the wind. Et ceterea. Spoilers until the very end of Nona the Ninth. Previous and future liveblogs are here. Apologies for unedited typos and mis-transcriptions are right here, at your feet, take them. Some comments will be in vaguely chronological liveblogged spurts, but I think I’ll group certain other observations together under their coalescencing themes and my baby thoughts about them. Just kidding, this felt too long already, so we’ll put thematic observations in the next and final post?? This liveblog now goes until Chapter 26 or page 375 in the hardcover. Also. I’ve stopped climbing the walls. I’m on the ceiling now. I’m never coming down. 

“as though others were more deserving than Nona, the most deserving person on the planet” and she’s right! “But I don’t want to be redheaded. I do not think of myself as redheaded.” “She was probably quite a bit older than Pyrrha, with strongly marked features and an aristocratic, slightly hooked nose, and her face was marked with lines that showed even beneath a light layer of powder and make-up” + “She was starting to perk up, by We Suffer standards, which meant her eyes had narrowed a bit.” Sorry to be me, but We Suffer confirmed h*t. I knew it. I knew it. Hooked nose! I knew it. “meeting up with the Messenger, whom you call the Angel… we may actually survive it” fascinated by this but also as the Angel becomes a confirmed Blood of Eden / Merv wing agent, I am once again tapping the NGE mech asking if it’s ready to go… “The Angel is Blood of Eden.” (294) “Corona can’t lie to her.” (296) cf. Crown/Corona’s belief, as disclosed to Nona anyway, that she can. It is very clear which Tridentarii Camilla, anyway, thinks is ascendant. We’re also noting that “Violabeth” is such a name. (Also matriarchal lineage on the Third or…?) You know, I twigged, of course I twigged at the “very obviously dead person with fashion hair” – but I really did not piece together, until the reveal, that Ianthe was puppeting Babs’ dead body and self-styling him as a vessel for princedom. In-cred-i-ble. Everything happening here is off the charts and I would expect nothing less from the Tridentarii, evil kings and princes and girls that I love. Also unhinged and again I am obsessed that Nona mistakes Ianthe-in-Babs for Crown/Corona’s boyfriend and Palamedes is like “yeah, well. Honest mistake.” “You think we’re fighting you on Antioch.” Not our first mention of Antioch, but the first that there’s a different threat. I’m putting my chin in my hands, I’m twirling my hair, I’m asking Ianthe to tell me pretty please. “Get the fishhook out of the fish.” At which point I went, ah yes, code word, and immediately had to flip back.

“[Blood of Eden owns] things in common, we share responsibilities and resources in common. [Wake] could’ve moved those resources at will.” Good tie-in to As Yet Unsent and Judith being mystified over their slightly more lateral chain of command. “It even scared A--. He was all, Matter doesn’t play by these rules! You’re doing bone parthenogenesis! I told him his mum did bone parthenogenesis. A—told me he’d kill me one day.”  No commentary. “M—‘s nun of all people was convinced that [the soul] was the element I was missing, and that finding it… would bring us closer to God.” Sweeps Cristabel Oct crumbs into my hand and kisses them all goodnight. I cannot believe I was hoodwinked into being obsessed with a nun. “He never knew how to pick between me and P—” G1deooooon. Gideon, Gideon, Gideon. I’m gratified for each any every bit of characterization, which I think goes a long way in giving G1deon a slight degree more of agency post-HTN. “Absorption through the eyes is worse than the brain.” Cf. Augustine’s something to the effect of “That dolt. [Mercymorn] knows not to look at [RB7] directly.” Neither of which confirms whether Mercymorn actually looked at it or just knew to fake she looked at it. I’m sure she did just look at it. Even HTN is not that complex, but I remain stuck on that scene, huh? “Do you know, I miss Harrow terribly.” Nerds (bullying emoji). Nerds who are friends (teary emoji). “I have very often not had to shoot myself.” Once again, We Suffer is hot. ALSO, for that matter, so is Pash and her blue hair. Icon. Angry legend. We love them all. “Crack the sky, Troia cell.” Back in the days of 8tracks, I had a mildly successful Lin Beifong themed fanmix called break the sky, which was named after the Hush Sound song of the same name. These are just some of the fun, personal facts about me you get from sticking around. (All cops? Terrible. But I’m making allowances both Nepotism Chief Beifong and Necrotism Chief Pyrrha Dve. Unfortunately.) “[Crown] had her big beautiful hair down around her shoulders in a profusion of smoothed, rippling curls, and she was wearing a lovely pale yellow slip that left her golden shoulders and throat bare. The dress was slit all the up to the thigh and she wore soft black leather trousers beneath it…” Slit-skirt over trousers, Coronabeth is single-handedly bring back to 00’s. But also we can note the gender and Corona skewing more traditionally feminine again, now in the presence of Ianthe. Throughout, Ianthe makes several comments about Coronabeth’s hair, a fixation that seems in-line with Ianthe’s force-growing of Harrow’s hair / attempts to cast Harrow as more traditionally feminine than Harrow seems personally inclined. Now is, maybe, a good moment to also reflect on Harrow’s gender presentation versus Nona’s. Again, the hair. The hair. And Nona’s attachment to her long hair. (Which… given what John tells us later… but we’ll get to that!!!) “Teacher assumes [the Sixth] melted as result of a little domestic drama, which sets him off wallowing again.” Getting over a polycule murder-break-up is hard. “This is the last thing he needs. If he hears that yet another of his duplicitous sluts betrayed him.” I am kissing each of the duplicitous sluts on the head. I love them. I love them all. I love the broken polycule. “Cassiopeia the First left us instructions years ago… We left for a Lyctor.” At which point we were, as they say, hooting and hollering. I think it was a well-documented theory that Mercymorn’s account of Cassiopeia’s death did not feel complete and left room for doubt but yes, give me another hyper-competent mean lady. Give me the lawyer-librarian. I am rubbing my little hands together. I am desperate to learn her Homestuck typing quirk. What will be her punctuation of choice, I beg of you. Also Tamsyn, you cannot tell me the guy named Ulysses (WHERE did his soul come from?? Who IS he???) is not also returning. So like. Yum. Delicious. I want to collect two new duplicitous sluts in Alecto, pretty please. “But we’re closer to the goal than ever before.” When Ianthe DOES reveal her endgame, I am going to be absolutely wild. “Every single dead soldier’s fingers twitched.” Someone call Santa Claus from Chainsaw Man bc Ianthe’s about to crush them to the ground in a PVP puppeteering fight. “Oh, darling, you’re always everyone else’s girl.” !!!!! “It was like the scream was made of her insides” Again, filing the scream away for future purposes (338). I would very much like Nona to get into heavy metal. I think that would be nice. “and maybe [Judith’s father will] stop moaning about supply lines” again, simply attentive to who is doing what portions of the day to day management of the war efforts and general empire-running. “You challenged the Sixth for its keys” – At which point I screamed for the callback. Also, God. It was only “over a year ago”? Death comes at you fast. “… between Naberius and me, there are no more weaknesses. I took those away… and now he is perfect.” (342) Frankly, did not expect this book to be a big win for the Babsheads, but I’m really happy for them. Ianthe’s ideas of perfection and perfect lyctorhood are emergent here and relevant in contrast to Palamedes’, but we’ll touch on that later. “As poor old Augustine used to say, It’s impossible, and what’s more, it’s improbable.” (342) At which point my mind began to gurgle, but God we note the poor old Augustine mirrors Augustine’s own constant refrain of poor little Cyth. There’s an intriguing way in which Ianthe is mimicking Augustine here and through actually taking up smoking later (I wonder if we can do a certain gender thing here). But I admit my first thought was really wow, Saint of Patience completely bodied. She truly felt nothing for him, she thought he was small and old, and I cannot believe Augustine thought Ianthe would side with him over God. I know I tweet this like five times a year but truly every time I remember Augustine is canonically blonde, it really does feel like an injustice to me personally. ALSO that he’s like, what, canonically 40ish and not played by Jeremy Irons?? Ridiculous. CW // Suicide mention in the next section // “’I wouldn’t get hurt. I’d just die,’ said Crown, her bronzed throat working against the barrel. ‘You’re not all-powerful here. All you have are wards and puppets. I shoot, the bullet goes through my palate and into the brain, and then you’re the Crown Princess of Ida… like you never wanted.” (343) A fascinating threat of sovereignty and !!! “’I’m going to shoot myself and you’re going to watch,’ said Crown, with deep satisfaction. ‘Like when we were teens, but this time I’m really going to tie the rope… really going to drink the poison…’” Corona’s history of suicidal thoughts adds a riveting new dimension to her expectation/desire that Ianthe would eat her (“My heart’s own… my necromancer” !!). Mmmm Tridentarii and their psychodramas. I’m leaning forward in my side. // End CW “You’ve been training with someone who knew what they were doing.” Augustine or Gideon? Both? I cannot believe Palamedes had to pilot Naberius’ body and I would pay money for that Freaky Friday AU. “Personally? She’s the last thing I have left of a woman I tried to trick into loving me, and got played myself.” I cannot believe this is the off-screen romance. God. God! I am eating the ceiling tiles. Pyrrha/Wake Spy Vs Spy asshole edition. Pyrrha/Wake idk Mr. and Mrs. Smith only I think maybe in reverse? I haven’t seen that movie since I was a child. (ft. “Let’s not get too cute about it, though. My best friend and I punched her out an airlock. Apart from that, I was ready to commit.”)   Also the incredibly me note that “Well, you’ll probably start visiting clubs and trying to hit on the dancers, and going from relationship to relationship not really being able to commit” (357) that this in did make my soul long for a single, single Augustine/Pyrrha interaction. God. What that must have been. “Talk about being the mother’s daughter… She’s him in the eyes and brows… amazed Mercymorn didn’t see it. But she wasn’t looking for it, I guess.” (361) Mercy, you beautiful fool. Also very crucial Gideon food, truly.

We’re filing away all comments on Gideon, and Gideon’s body, and where we find her for the end but god “a big purple bloodless puncture wound, with white teeth peeking out coyly from within” (366). Explain the teeth! Please explain the teeth! Why does necromancy lead to teeth!!!! What is up with the stoma!!! “I’ve never much seen the allure of an evil cougar.” (368) Your loss, Sextus. Cytherea ): Gone but never forgotten ): ): ):

“Judith Deuteros for some reason” is a great laugh line. “Those are my speed holes. They help me go fast,” is an abomination.

Gideon. Last stretch will be here soon. I am still on the ceiling.

[wolfsneedles]

DAENERYS TARGARYEN APPRECIATION MONTH - 2021 / DanyMonth2021

(im not putting day20 as her craving simple life which she is, doing no doubt because this is more bent towards her personality and traits so sorry for that! u can count in it as anything abt her)

• / Dany as - playful, simplistic and energetic persona with a soft childlike curiosity and making jokes is my fav dany trait 😭💞 It also does verify the fact that she isn't some utterly throne kingdom obsessed person like stannis, and neither is she, too much dwindled in idealism of prophecy or latches herself onto it, like cersei and even rhaegar to extent. She enjoys her life to fullest and still maintains her beautiful calm and helpful persona even making jokes with ppl, and teasing her.

My fav moment is of her being so practical and invested in life and her ruling abilities and doing court everyday but also, enjoying her life and having crushes on men, soaking in water and going to her pool in terrace, her childish naivety nature of her makes me feel so respectful towards her bcs it literally rebutts and rejects the claim of ppl who hate her that she is stern and *cough* darker , when she is the most vulnerable person sometimes and so self-critical. basically *easy to approach* for her subjects, people. She likes dressing up for daario, admiring ppl and making herself beautiful to make others admire her, she is open sweet and receptive to people. she isn't some edgelord with dark personality like male fans want her to be so they can project onto her further lol. She has such a balanced personality.

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

On her terrace, in her bathing pool, the little fish would nibble at her legs as she soaked. Even they kissed with more fervor than Hizdahr zo Loraq.

In my Seven Kingdoms, knights go on quests to prove themselves worthy of the maiden that they love. They seek for magic swords, for chests of gold, for crowns stolen from a dragon’s hoard.”

Hizdahr looked thoughtful. “Ninety days and ninety nights without a corpse, and on the ninety-first we wed?”

“Perhaps,” said Dany, with a coy look. “Though young girls have been known to be fickle. I may still want a magic sword.”

Hizdahr laughed. “Then you shall have that too, Radiance.

I shall be safe with Daario. Oh, and send Irri and Jhiqui, if you would be so good. And Missandei.” I need to change, to make myself beautiful. — Oh, and flowers for my hair. When first they met, the captain brought her flowers every day, all the way from Yunkai to Meereen. “Bring the grey linen gown with the pearls on the bodice. Oh, and my white lion’s pelt.”

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 8.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage

Warnings In This Chapter: Angst

A/N: Always the most gigantic, humongous shoutout to my loves @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​, @ppersonna​ for rooting me on and making it so easy to write these characters who I have come to adore!

The house was quiet when you first woke up. There's an overwhelming sense of comfort in the air as you step out of your bedroom.

You've been getting into a daily routine here, without it you'd probably feel lost or without a purpose.

You really adored the small waterfall alcove beside your room. The sounds are so peaceful and the koi that swim beneath the glass floor are absolutely gorgeous. Entering here was always the beginning of your daily routine.

You weren't fond of wearing heels and for the first time in a long time you had on sneakers. After feeling sick for a few days you decided on a comfortable hoodie, albeit still expensive but you like it. The leggings you wear hug you closely and it brings you ease.

"Little dove?" you hear from behind as you stare down at the koi fish.

"Morning," you say, turning your head to the CEO as he leans against the doorframe of his bedroom.

His eyes are bleary, his forehead creased from the bright light that bleeds through the stained glass windows.

"Why do you always get up so fucking early? You should be sleeping, the baby needs rest. Does it not?" he asks, scratching at his neck with a yawn.

"I'm used to getting up this early, I did have a job not too long ago," you reply, looking over the waterfall walls.

He puts his head back against the door frame, his fingers combing through his sleepy bed head.

"I shouldn't be speaking to you anyway. It's before your morning coffee," you jeer, sitting down on the marble bench.

"Shut up," he retorts but you can hear the humor in his voice. You notice the corners of his lips flickering upward as he shoves off of the doorway.

"Madam?" you hear from the end of the hall.

Your attention turns to Maya as she bows.

Yoongi watches your face light up, he sees the true joy in you and he snorts gently in response. You're really a blessing to this house.

"Good morning Maya!" you say, standing up from the bench quickly.

"Easy does it, little dove." Yoongi murmurs, folding his arms.

"The neighbor Kim Yoona is here to see you." Tilting your head, you can't begin to register the name.

Yoongi laughs gently as he enters the hallway.

"Get me an Irish coffee, please Maya. I'm going to need it if Yoona is here," you turn to him as he speaks, watching as he rubs hand fists over his eyes.

"Who's Yoona?" you ask softly.

"Namjoon's wife. She's actually really sweet. Which is against my religion... so," he says before putting his hand on your lower back to escort you to the staircase.

You don't pull away from him oddly enough. You let him guide you, it's easier than fighting so early in the morning.

"She went to Sairmount Academy like us, too." he notifies you as you descend the stairs together.

"Huh." you mumble thoughtfully.

There were very few memories of Sairmount Academy you remembered. It's kind of bizarre knowing that Yoongi was around all throughout your schooling.

You didn't care to remember many things from school. It was always the same, you were poor and people were rich. You were bullied, Leena and Jin were the only ones who cared for you.

"Morning Yoona," Yoongi says as you reach the bottom floor.

Turning to you, you take in the woman who stands by the couch. She has light brown hair with dirty blonde highlights. Her body is slim and proportionate adorning light ripped jeans and a cashmere turtleneck. The thing that stands out the most though, is her paddock boots. She must really love her horses. She's clean cut and absolutely gorgeous.

But, as she smiles something seems familiar to you.

"Morning, Yoongles," he grimaces at her nickname, accepting the coffee that is rushed over to him.

"Why are you here?" he asks, leaning against the marble stairwell banister.

"Came to see an old friend." Yoona replies.

Tilting your head, your eyes begin to widen.

If she had black, long hair with small polka dot bows and if she was years younger, she would look exactly like an old friend.

"Bang Yoona?" You ask softly and she points to herself with a comical wink.

"That's me," she cheers happily.

"Oh my God!" you cry out, rushing over to hug her.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow as he watches you both hug. His heart warms at the sight of your pure excitement.

"Small world," he murmurs above the lip of his coffee cup.

"I changed my last name when I got married," she tells you, placing both hands on either side of your face as she pulls away.

You can remember when you were little. Yoona welcomed you quite like Leena. You were happy to spend time with her when you were seven. But, after time went on, she left to Germany with her parents when they accepted different jobs.

You were sad back then having only Leena but then it became a distant memory as you got older.

"You look amazing!" you compliment her as she brushes some hair behind your ear.

"As do you! Once Joon told me that it's you that got pregnant with Yoongi's baby I had to see you!" Yoongi smirks gently as you pull away from one another.

"This is such a pleasant surprise!" you cheer as she slings her arm over your shoulders.

"Come spend the day at my house. Leave Yoongi to his sad self," she winks at you and you giggle in reply.

"Fuck you." Yoongi mumbles. Yoona sticks her tongue out at him before pulling you towards the door.

"I'll show you my horses! They're so beautiful!" she tells you enthusiastically.

"Hey." Yoongi calls to you, whistling loudly for your attention.

You turn to him, a wide smile on your face which makes him smirk.

"Be careful and no riding the horses with the baby inside of you," he says pointedly.

You nod happily before hooking your arm around Yoona's waist.

"Watch out for her!" Yoongi calls to her and she snorts gently as you both walk up the entryway steps.

"Always. I probably know her better than you do," she retorts with a laugh.

Yoongi grimaces at the thought before rolling his eyes.

"Yeah well she's having my baby," he retorts softly.

He watches the front door close as he sips his coffee.

"Maya!" he calls to the empty house as he pushes himself off the stairwell.

"Sir?" he hears in the distance.

"Bring me my yearbooks!" he calls as he begins to ascend the stairs.

You better be careful or he'll raise hell with the Kims.

The walk to Namjoon's house is absolutely breathtaking. You've always stuck around the house, taking walks around the long stoned paths by the garden. But now, walking towards the large mansion in the distance, you can only be in awe of the sights before you.

"I cannot believe what a small world we live in." Yoona says, ripping you out of your trance.

You giggle as she hugs you tightly to her side.

"I know," you reply as you both move out of the way as a car passes by.

The limousine begins to slow down, the window sliding down as well.

Very unfortunate for you, the face of Sera is right in your sights.

"Good morning Yoona! You look ravishing today!" Sera's voice is filled with overly sweet tones.

Your stomach begins to roll at how fake she is.

"Hi." Yoona says briskly, hand gripping beneath your arm tighter.

"See you've taken on a pet project. How gracious of you." Sera says, leaning her body out the window and grimacing in your direction.

Your friend from childhood stops in her tracks. "I think Y/N is delightfully where she should be in life. Unlike you, Sera. If anyone needs a pet project, I'll be sure to have them reach out to you."

You can hear Sera scoff loudly as Yoona tugs you down the road.

"Oh, and Sera?" Yoona calls Yoongi's wife.

You watch the pretty woman angle her head out of the car as if she would be expecting an apology.

"It's 2020, no one drives around in a limousine anymore. It's an embarrassing way to flaunt your money. You should get a Rolls Royce or an Astin Martin. No one wants to see you in a rickety old limo. That shit is for the birds," you put your hand over your mouth, gasping with a laugh as Yoona tugs you down toward her mansion.

"I cannot believe you!" you squeal as she laughs loudly.

Entering Namjoon and Yoona's house you're astounded at how different yet gorgeous it is to where you live now.

The house has an English feel to it, limestone and wooden hardware really bring it all together. The house screams Victorian Gothic and you find it all so wonderful.

"What do you think?" Yoona asks as she passes through the sitting room

"This is beautiful, Yoona. I can't even believe it!" you say in awe. Your eyes glance up, looking at the chandelier before she's tugging you into the next room.

"Namjoon and I are a bit obsessed with old English history. Like this, this is my most prized possession in the whole house," she says stopping in front of a large glass case.

Looking down, your eyes widen so big they could almost fall out of your head.

Gorgeous jewels and diamonds sit nestled in silver and gold. There are crowns, necklaces, earrings and all sorts of other baubles.

"Holy shit!" you whisper out.

Your hands situate behind your back as if you're in a museum.

"All of these belonged to King Henry the Eighth and his many wives! My favorite is Anne Boleyns." Yoona says pointing at a crown that is more grandiose than all of the others.

"Yoona, these are really beautiful," you breathe out.

She wrinkles her nose gently, leaning against the varnished hardwood table.

"Ready to go see my horses?" she asks as her maid brings you both glasses of water.

You nod to her happily as you move away from the royal jewelry.

Stepping out into the backyard of her house, you can't seem to see where the line is drawn between her house and Yoongis. The grass is perfectly cut and a luscious green that makes you feel at peace.

"Just over here." Yoona calls to you as she takes off toward the horse barn.

"Whoa." It feels as if you're almost in a movie.

You can see men walking to and fro with metal buckets filled with water and different foods. They all have on the same uniforms, something akin to what jockeys would wear before a big race.

The horse barn, as you approach, looks just like a home. Something comfortable and clean that could very well have people living inside of it.

"My pride and joy is Rapture. He's won five awards since he's been born and he is the biggest sweetheart," your heart warms at how enthusiastic your childhood friend sounds.

The barn doors open and you feel as if you've been thrust into a fairytale.

There are six horses, all beautifully kept with various colors and sizes on their coats.  Whinies and neighs enrapture your ears as the animals spot Yoona.

"It's like you're the Snow White of horses," you whisper to her as she picks up some carrots by the front door.

"Well, they're my babies," she replies, a motherly smile plastered on her face.

"Jooheon," she calls out.

You watch a man around your age appear. His hair is a light shade of blue and his eyes are soft and doe-like. His cheeks are high and his jaw is sharp like it has been carved by the gods.

He's incredibly tall and muscular, his thick thighs quiver and flex as he walks towards you both.

"Madams," he says, bowing down to you both.

His eyes lock with yours as he stands back up, a smirk on his features as he winks at you.

Finally, Yoongi had brought home his laptop for work. He hasn't really given much thought to why he feels the need to stay home so much these days. He doesn't want to think about it, he just lets things be.

Throwing his feet up on his desk, his eyes falter to the stack of yearbooks that Maya has so kindly brought him.

Seeing Yoona this morning, someone he's always known suddenly knowing you, it made him curious.

How could he have gone throughout all of his Sairmount schooling AND college to never know you?

Sipping his coffee, he opens up the first yearbook.

His eyes narrow at the pages, looking over all the small kids with the same uniforms.

"Y/N. Y/N." he mumbles as his index finger glazes over the children's faces.

His eyebrows crease as he leans back in his desk chair.

You were in none of these pictures, not that he could see anyway.

Flipping through the pages of the book, he passes the newspaper club, the computer club, the chess club before finding solo pictures of each student.

His lips puff out as he skims along the pictures.

"Holy shit," he whispers, setting down his coffee cup.

There you were. Small and cute in front of his eyes.

But, there's something familiar about you as he continues to stare at the picture. You with your small tie and blazer, he feels like he's always known you.

Then it hits him, you were in his class. He fucking remembers you, sitting three seats behind him in History.

Purchasing his hand beneath his chin, he stares at the small pictures in his history textbook. He couldn't be bothered to study for the pop quiz and he knows that he probably failed.

His father was going to be disappointed, as always. His father is never proud of anything he does so why should this matter.

"Sir Min," the teacher, Mrs. Park, calls to him.

With the roll of his eyes, he looks up at his teacher.

"Yeah," he mumbles as Hoseok slides a note beneath the lip of his book.

"Do you realize that I've been calling your name for the past three minutes?" Mrs. Park asks as she leans down on her desk.

Running his fingers through his hair, the tip of his tongue grazes over his teeth. He leans back in his own chair, eyes glazing over the teacher with a bored expression.

"No. I was too busy looking at what underwear people used to wear," he mutters aloud.

He can hear other kids snickering and murmuring at his joke. A sly smirk begins to spread over his face while he fixes his tie.

"You think this is funny? You think failing is funny?" she quips as she holds up the quiz.

He can feel his neck heating up out of embarrassment.

"The future heir of Kisung can't even pass a history quiz? Maybe your parents should get a phone call," she asks him, her legs wading through the multitude of desks before plopping the sheet down on his table.

He takes in all the red lines that are scoured over the paper.

"I bet you can't even tell me when the Mongols invaded the Goryeo dynasty," she says earning a multitude of hushed voices.

He turns his head to the others behind him, his eyes dancing over the kids that sit with their eyes on their desks.

Then they falter to you as you stare at him shamelessly. Your small hands form fists as you look from him to Mrs. Park.

Secretly, you begin to raise your fingers.

One.

Two.

One.

Six.

He clears his throat as your eyes falter to your desk and he turns back to the teacher as she raises her eyebrow.

"The Mongols invade Goryeo in 1216," Yoongi says as he swings his arm over the lip of his chair.

She purses her lips at his answer, eyes narrowing at him.

Maybe your information was wrong.

"Well, if you knew that then why did you fail the quiz?" she asks softly, retreating to her desk at the front of the class.

He breathes a gentle sigh of relief, turning his head to you. He nods to you as Leena pinches your arm. Nodding back, the corner of your lips flicker upwards before pinching your best friend.

Yoongi chuckles to himself as he recalls the memory.

You saved his sorry ass that day, if it wasn't for you he would have had to kneel on rice in a corner for God knows how long.

"Interesting," he whispers to himself as he continues to flicker through the yearbook.

"You have a phone call, Mrs. Kim," someone announces from the entrance to the horse barn.

She hums in reply, running her hand over the soft mane of Rapture.

"I'll just be a minute, why don't you spend time with the horses. They seem to love you," she suggests and you nod happily as Rapture rubs his large face against yours.

Giggling, you hold out an apple slice for him and he takes it without complaint.

"You're so pretty," you tell the horse as he munches happily on the slice.

"Do you know anything about horses?" you hear from behind you.

Turning to the owner of the voice, you smile gently as Jooheon wipes a rag over his sweaty face.

"Unfortunately not. But, they're very beautiful," you reply as Rapture nuzzles the back of your head.

The stableman chuckles as the horse rests his head on your shoulder.

"Rapture always finds it easy to feel comfortable around gorgeous women," you can feel the apples of your cheeks blushing as Jooheon tosses the rag he holds up in the air.

"I'm sure you really like this job," you say, running your hand over the horse's neck.

He nods to your statement, leaning back against one of the wooden doors. "I've always liked animals more than people. When you look into a horse's eyes, you can see so much emotion. You can practically see their souls bare in front of you."

His admission makes you think. You can understand people that love and respect animals more than people.

"That's really sweet," you tell him as he fixes his uniform.

He gives you a smile, one that's enchanting showing off his perfectly white teeth.

"It's just the truth," he replies as Rocket, an all white horse, nuzzles his face.

"I know, girl. Don't get jealous cause I'm talking to a pretty woman," he whispers and this time your ears heat up.

"The Madam was telling everyone that you're an old school friend," he says, patting the horse's face.

You nod, a reminiscent smile on your features. "Yeah. Yoona was a good friend when we were younger."

He takes delight in how you smile, how perfectly shy you are.

"Did you move in around here?"

"Yeah. I'm living with the Min's," you answer as Rapture snorts gently onto your cheek.

"Must be nice to have money," he quips.

You shake your hands quickly. "Oh. I'm not rich."

He hums playfully, looking over your expensive attire with an unsure eye.

"I thought Min Yoongi was married," he counters as he slides his right foot up onto the stable door behind him.

You watch his thighs flex once more before clearing your throat. "He is. I'm just... I'm pregnant with his... y'know... his baby."

Jooheon whistles loudly at the admission. "Interesting. But, you're not dating him, are you?"

The question makes you laugh, feeding another apple slice to Rapture while shaking your head. "No. I am not."

Jooheon nods slowly as he stands up and you can hear the horse barn door opening to your right. "Can I ask you out on a date then?"

Puffing from his cigar, Yoongi leans back into the armchair he sits in. His fingers pull and push at his cards on the green felt.

"I call." Jeongguk mumbles and the CEO tosses some extra chips into the center of the poker table.

Although Jimin was invited to tonight's poker game, Yoongi thought it wise that he didn't accept. The shorter man was hanging on by a hair, the last time he was in this house.

Guk was more than happy to sit in his seat beside Taehyung for the evening.

The classical music swells throughout the room and Yoongi stares down at the chips in hand. Once that memory of you from childhood came flooding back, he can remember smaller ones too.

Ones like when you were being bullied or when the girls tried to steal your lunch. He can remember all the times he heard Leena screaming to protect you, and he finds himself feeling more accepting of her.

"Yoona had a great time with Y/N today. She loves her," Namjoon says, earning everyone's attention.

"Well I think they used to be friends, no? I don't remember much about Y/N but I remember that she was friends with Leena, Yoona and of course Jin," Hoseok says.

"What do you mean 'of course Jin?'" Yoongi finds himself asking, something inside of him growing terse and annoyed.

"Well he was always with them. He was Leena's boyfriend when we were younger too. He was the only boy that used to hang around with them."

He starts to simmer down at his admission. "Oh," Yoongi whispers.

"Read 'em and weep, hyungs," Jeongguk says with a smug grin, flipping over his cards.

Taehyung groans long and low, his hands carding through his hair as Guk shows them a straight flush.

"Goddamn. This kid wins in everything! Whether it's boxing, car racing or cards!" Tae complains as Guk collects his chips.

Yoongi chuckles to himself, lifting his whisky glass to his lips.

"I'm really glad Y/N has a friend around here." Namjoon says and to this the Kisung CEO nods.

He wants you to thrive. He can say this until his face turns blue.

As Maya begins to deal the cards once more, the library door slowly begins to open. The sound draws everyone's attention and they stay silent as you enter.

Your face is buried in a book, your feet slowly shuffling into the big room. The sight of you makes Yoongi smirk, your hand is pressed on your flat stomach as you continue farther into the room.

You look precious. Your hair is slightly wet from a shower not too long ago and your eyes are enraptured with the words you read.

"Beautiful," he whispers under his breath but the sound is swallowed by Namjoon clearing his throat.

You look up quickly, clearly startled by the noise.

"Oh my God, it's Thursday! I'm so sorry!" you cry out as you slam the large book in hand shut.

"No worries, little dove. Come. Get a book," Yoongi calls to you as you try to leave.

"Hey Y/N." Namjoon says with a comforting smile.

Your eyes meet his and the friendly face makes you smile widely. "Hi Joon. Good evening!"

You wink at Maya, scurrying behind her to find a new book to read.

Oh, Joon is it?

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he burns out his cigar. He wafts the smoke away from your direction, picking up his whisky glass.

You had changed your clothes. Now wearing a purple free flowing sundress.

Might be better to not have tight clothes on, if they make you uncomfortable. The father of your child finds himself thinking.

"Y/N. Can you tell Leena to call me, please?" Taehyung whines.

Turning to him, you narrow your eyes playfully.

Why can't Yoongi see you like this? Is it because he's too big of a dick?

He wishes you would be so free with him…

"Tae. I'm told that you're in the dog house," you jeer as you grab a book.

Tae, is it?

Yoongi gulps down the rest of his drink, his throat burning as his gut explodes with alcoholic fire.

"Tell her I'll book the penthouse. I promise," he says, holding out his pinky.

Humming cutely, you step onto the platform beside Maya. Grabbing his pinky, he gives you a wink and it almost sends Yoongi onto the fucking floor.

"Don't you have some reading to do, little dove?" he asks quickly, watching how tightly Taehyung grips at your pinky.

You look over at the CEO before nodding. He gives you a small smile and your heart stutters as you return it.

"I'm Jeongguk! But, you can just call me Guk or Gukkie," the youngest calls to you.

You bow your head to him with a smile. "Nice to meet you."

"That's Hoseok," Namjoon says, pointing his thumb to the left of him.

You give a small wave before looking down at the book you hold.

"Well I'll let you get back to it. I'll just be reading," you say, mostly to Yoongi.

He nods above the lips of his glass, watching you press the book to your flat womb.

You're fucking endearing as all hell.

"Or, you can join us," Joon suggests.

Yoongi grimaces at the idea. Why would he fucking ask you to stay? In a room with all these handsome men? No.

"No. She said she wants to rea-" the father of your child begins to say before you cut him off.

"I might destroy you," you quip and his mouth hangs open at your banter.

Yoongi watches as Maya begins to smile, a proud smirk gracing her features already.

"Poker is about luck," Hoseok jeers.

"Well I did get knocked up on a pass by. Seems like I'm pretty lucky," you joke, making the others laugh.

Yoongi snorts to himself as you share camaraderie with his friends.

"That's my baby you're talking about," he says, pointing his index finger over the lip of his glass to you.

You give him a warm smile, the apples of your cheeks raising as you giggle.

"Here, noona. You can sit in my seat," Guk says and it rubs Yoongi the wrong way almost immediately.

"She can have my seat, you're a guest," he says quickly.

"Oh no, it's fine. Noon-"

"Y/N, come." Yoongi's voice is strict and you roll your eyes at his commanding demeanor.

Setting down the book on the lip of the table, you take his seat. He stands behind you, handing the burnt out cigar and ashtray to Maya.

The smell might make you feel sickly.

"Jeongguk always wins," Hoseok notifies you and you hum curiously.

"We'll see," you reply as you begin to stack Yoongi's poker chips. He can smell your shampoo, violets and vanilla--it smells amazing.

"You know how to play?" He whispers softly in your ear, you shiver at his warm breath, smelling the alcohol on his pallet.

It reminds you of your first night together and you press your thighs into one another at the memory.

"Oh, I know how to play," you reply.

He places his hand on your shoulder as Maya begins to deal.

"Don't spend all of my money, we play with real bucks here," Yoongi says, his thumb grazing over the softness of your skin.

You feel yourself relax as his skin grazes yours. It feels comfortable, it feels kind of right.

Lifting your cards, your thumb skims over the tops and Yoongi holds his breath waiting for what you're going to do.

A diamond ace and a ten of diamonds sits in your hand. Yoongi presses down on your shoulder, almost as if he's proud of you.

"Raise," you mumble as Yoongi slides his thumb over the column of your neck.

You can see all the other billionaires staring at you and you calmly grab three poker chips before throwing them into the middle of the table.

"She's got a good poker face," Hoseok quips as he lifts his glass of brandy.

You feel your heart pick up speed as Yoongi slides his free hand over your other shoulder.

"Good girl." He whispers softly in your ear and your eyes flutter shut at his praise.

What the fuck is going on?

This Yoongi, the one behind you feels so different than the man who you moved in with just a week or so ago.

"Who are you and what have you done with Yoongi?" you quip into his ear softly.

You watch as Maya begins to flip three cards, you snort gently as a king, a queen and a four, of the same suit appear.

"He's gone." Yoongi murmurs, earning widened eyes from you as you focus on your cards.

You watch as the others toss chips into the middle and you throw a few more as Yoongi sips his whisky.

Your stomach begins to coil as he presses his thumbs down into your shoulders with soothing circles. He's fucking massaging you.

You find your body relaxing into his chest and stomach.

Yoongi watches the way your thighs quiver as you cross your legs. He can see the back of your neck flushing and his tongue licks over his bottom lip slowly.

"So, Y/N," Joon says, elbowing Hoseok with a wink. You shy away from the CEO's touch and he feels like he's being rejected all in a quick second.

Yoongi sighs gently, his eyes flutter shut and he loosens his grip on you.

"Yoona tells me you got a date today," you clear your throat uncomfortably as the men look pointedly at you.

Yoongi's eyes widen at the new information. He pulls away from you, making up the excuse in his mind to grab another grab of whisky.

He can feel the rage beginning to burn through him, as if someone has lit the end of a stick of dynamite. His eyes flutter shut and he steadies himself on the lip of the bar.

How fucking dare someone try to ask you out. How dare they?

"Oh well, Jooheon is really kind," he hears how soft your tone is and he can't help the way his hand shakes as he picks up the whisky bottle.

Why does the prospect of you dating drive him almost to the brink of insanity?

"You told him no, right?" he finds himself asking, he stares at his reflection through the mirrored wall. His face is pink with anger, the veins in his neck protruding as he grips tightly onto his glass.

You can't see him, but you can hear how livid he is.

"Well, I-" before you can even reply, he's charging across the room.

His hand grips at your arm and without a second thought he's tugging you to the library door.

You swallow thickly as he kicks the door open with his foot in a moment of blind rage.

"Yoongi!" you complain as he pulls you into the game room next door.

He slams the door shut behind him, his back presses into the cherry wood. Narrowing his eyes at you, he sneers.

"You told him no, right?! You do remember the contract, correct? Or, are your childish feminine hormones making you blind?" he barks out.

Your face begins to set into a scowl as you continue to stare at him. Why not be a brat? It's something you're quite good at when you're upset with him.

"Well if I can't get cock from you, then I'll have to get it elsewhere," your statement drops like a bomb and in a second he's pushing you up against the wall.

"Don't you fucking dare get snarky with me, like that. No cocks are going in this tight little cunt, do you understand me?" he seethes through his teeth.

Your eyes meet his, both sets are glaring and determined.

"Well then, guess you should have accepted my offer to fuck me," you quip.

He chuckles darkly, the sound shaking you to the core. And, for the first time he places his hand over your stomach.

"You couldn't handle this cock in your pregnant pussy, believe me. If I even see you with another man, I'll fuck him up."

"Why, jealous?" you ask as his thumb swipes over your stomach.

The feeling of his hand over your child can only compare to the sun. It feels wonderful.

"What do I have to be jealous of? I have it all. And that includes you. You're mine," he barks out and you hum unsurely, turning your face away from him as his forehead presses to yours.

"Just because I'm having your baby, that doesn't make me yours," you reply, your eyes focus on the pinball machines at the far end of the room.

"Yeah. It really does, little dove," you can hear the agitation in his voice, the annoyance he feels can match yours.

The tip of his nose grazes over your cheekbone as he presses his face closer.

The burning anger in him subsiding as he continues to drift his hand over your stomach.

"Just... don't." It's practically a plea falling from his lips.

Your eyes flutter shut at his now soft tone.

"I told him no," you whisper and you can feel his breath of relief as it rushes over your lips and neck.

"Then why are you pissing me off?" he asks gruffly.

"Because you made me mad," you retort as his hands grip at your sides.

He stays silent for a second before responding.

"I know. I'm getting way too good at that. I'm sorry," he whispers.

You swallow thickly, he's apologizing? He's really not himself today.

"Did you get a concussion?" you ask as he pulls away from you.

He raises an eyebrow as he keeps you at arms length. His fingers comb through his hair, a few odd strands falling back into his eyes.

"A concussion? What?" he replies, confused.

"You're acting weird," you comment as he fixes his blazer.

He begins to smirk as he leans back against the pool table. "I told you, old Yoongi is gone."

Humming unsurely, you intertwine your fingers.

"I'd really like it if you could not give me whiplash every few minutes. Makes it a lot bearable on my neck," you say as you fix your dress.

His eyes falter to your swollen breasts, his tongue licks over his lips while he does his best to calm his breathing.

"I'll be more thoughtful," he whispers and you bite your bottom lip, nodding carefully.

"We should get back," you tell him as you push off of the wall.

He nods gently and he grips at your wrist as you try to walk away from him. You turn to him as his eyes become softer. "No boyfriends, no dates."

You smirk as you look him over. "No boyfriends. No dates," you promise and he cups your cheek gently without even thinking.

"I like the fierce you. Makes my heart feel warm," he comments, leaving you in the game room on your own.

When he touches you, it makes your heart feel warm as well.

Next Chapter --->

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[thepointoftheneedle]

The Sports Coat

Look I'm obsessed with "that" jacket. Here's a ficlet about it.

When his bellowing of her name became physically painful she put down her book with a deep sigh and trudged upstairs. Her mom was spending some quality time with their son tonight and she’d been looking forward to lying motionless on the couch for at least four hours. Jug was standing in his boxer shorts, staring helplessly into his closet. It was a good look on him, she didn’t hate it, it almost made climbing the stairs worthwhile, despite the fact that it was the end of a very long week and she was as exhausted as any young mom had ever been.

“Where’s my sports coat?” Betty looked at him blankly. “You know the plaid one. Grey kinda.”

“Ugh, yeah, that terrible old thing. I was taking some of the little guy’s baby things that he’s outgrown to goodwill last week so I had a quick sweep of our closets while I was about it. I don’t imagine anyone’s going to buy something as ugly as that but they recycle textiles so…”

She trailed off because the colour had drained from his face as she was speaking.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You took it to goodwill? Like, it’s totally gone? Gone-gone. You aren’t joking about?”

Betty began to feel a little nervous. The hideous jacket had been at the back of the closet since before they were married. She’d never seen him wear it, not even once. When she’d been surveying the hangers, rushing as always, it had seemed obvious that its space was more useful than its presence and she had stuffed it into the trash bag with the other donations. It hadn’t occurred to her that he’d even miss it.

“I’m sorry Jug. I didn’t realise it was important. You never wore it. I mean, thank God for that because it was so ugly, actually heinous. And you do have a lot of jackets. Almost too many.”

Jughead sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. For a moment she wondered if he was about to sob. She knelt on the floor in front of him and put her hands on his knees, looking up into his face. His brow was furrowed, eyes closed as if in pain. She was actually a little scared now. “Jug, Juggie. I’m so sorry. What did I do?”

“It was Stephen King’s,” he whispered. He wore it on Dick Cavett right after The Shining was released. The cameraman said he liked it and King just gave it to him. And the camera guy sold it to me for three hundred bucks. I lived off instant ramen for three weeks to pay for it. Well, ramen and scotch. It was when I was pretty low.”

Betty didn’t know what to say. Normally she was solution orientated but there was no rectifying this one. The jacket was almost certainly being shredded for insulation right at that moment. Secretly she wondered if that wasn’t maybe for the best, kinder to put the thing out of its misery. Ha, Misery!

She stroked his shoulder in what she hoped was a consoling manner. She could see why it was important to him but he had a first edition of The Shining and it had been an absolutely godawful coat. She was sorry… but not that sorry. Still, she stroked his hair back and kissed his ear, moving down to nibble gently at his ear lobe, he always liked that. His eyes flickered up to hers and she murmured against his neck, “Let me make it up to you.”

She woke late on Saturday morning, the quiet of the house a strange and slightly unsettling novelty. The great gift of an unbroken night of sleep was a treasure she hadn’t fully appreciated until she’d become a mom. She luxuriated for a moment, stretching across both sides of the bed, but then she began to miss both her boys. She had planned to get some chores done before going to pick up the little man but she felt like there was a fishing hook in her heart and it was being reeled in, pulling her towards Elm Street and his soft hair and sticky hands.

She guessed Jughead was writing so she padded downstairs only find the house empty and silent. There was a note on the coffee machine. “Love you sleeping beauty. Had an errand to run. I’ll pick up the boy on the way back. I miss him.” He’d scrawled a sad face followed by the crown he used as his signature.

Betty poured herself a coffee and sat down at the kitchen table to wait. She hoped the errand involved donuts.

Twenty minutes later she heard the truck pull up outside and went to the window to watch them come home. Her son was pretty evenly covered in powdered sugar, streaks of jelly in his hair and a doughy mess in one pudgy hand. The errand had been donut related. Her husband looked even more thrilled than his boy. He was wearing the monstrous coat.

“Betts! Look, I got it back! The guy said they were keeping it for Halloween. I guess he must have known about King somehow. I gave him a hundred bucks for it. How lucky is that? I’m going to wear the hell out of this thing. Aren’t you pleased?”

Betty managed a smile. “That’s great Jug. So great.”

[nightshade-minho]

-Embers- (1)

warnings: suggestive, future smut, themes of death

wc: 5.3k

teaser 

White specks of paint, scattered across an inky sky - they truly were beautiful. You adjusted yourself on the grassy hill, eyes closing as you tried to calm your nerves. Sighing, you ran your hand over crimson scales, trying to ignore the blinding lights of your village in the distance.

“The stars are beautiful tonight.”

You wished you could stay here forever. Where the only sounds that grace your ears are the deep rumbling snores of the enormous draconian creature you're curled up against. It's a comforting sound, and yet you knew you were going to have to leave soon. Your father would be absolutely enraged if you were late to such an important event- in fact, you were sure he’d have absolutely no qualms killing you in front of the entire village and crowning a broomstick as his heir instead.

Perhaps that's why you delayed the inevitable for a little longer, nuzzling your head against the dragon's hide. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you observed your bustling village from above, frantically getting ready for the festival and the welcoming. People were decorating their houses, painting murals onto their walls and making sure everything was perfect for the guests that would arrive tonight.

The streets were lit up with lanterns, and the people milling about outside their houses were dressed up in their best. The excitement in the atmosphere was palpable, and you could almost feel it from atop the hill.

Sighing, you looked to the side, your eyes meeting enormous yellow ones.

“Aeracus...I know what you’re thinking.” You sighed and curled up your knees to your chest. “And you’re right. I’m nervous, but also excited. I can’t believe we’re going to be seeing him again after all these years. Can you?”

The dragon slowly shook his head from side to side, and you chuckled. “Do you think he’s changed? Or do you think he’s still a feline-obsessed asshole?” You smiled, his laughter ringing in your ears as you reminisced.

Slowly though, the good memories bled into terrible ones. Loss and pain, mingling in your heart and taking over your emotions. The smile disappeared from your face as you remembered what had happened. The reason he left. The reason you weren’t allowed to participate in the championships that were to be a part of the festival’s celebrations...the reason the whole village considered you an outcast, despite being the chief’s daughter.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing your hair back as you slowly stood up, dusting off your tunic. You pressed a kiss to the dragon’s neck, sighing.

“I’m going to go, Aeracus. Honestly, you should be grateful you don’t have to partake in these events.”

The dragon let out a disapproving rumble at that, and your face softened. That was a low blow. After all, it wasn’t his fault that he was forced to to refrain from joining his fellow dragons in the games. No, the blame was to be shared between you and Minho.

The felicity in your heart was intertwined with a faint sense of lingering sorrow. It happened so many years ago, and yet the echoes were still fresh in your mind...

You couldn’t deny that you were desperate to see him again. In fact, saying you were desperate would probably be an understatement. You were thrilled, electrified- and yet, oh so anxious.

You clenched your fists, taking in a deep breath and starting to descend the hill. You’d put it off for long enough.

***

“Children, listen carefully, now.”

The boy next to you didn’t heed the elder’s warning, continuing to draw on the back of his hand.

“Minho! Pay attention, or I will have to call your father.”

Minho looked up, scowling. He placed the chalk down and pursed his lips, directing his attention towards the clay figurines that were laid out in front of the elderly woman. You, as well as the 10 other kids in the cottage, were fascinated by the story being told. The woman was teaching you about your culture, the information you needed to know regarding the upcoming ceremony. It was important, and yet Minho couldn’t bring himself to care. He liked cats more than dragons anyway.

“As I was saying.” She cleared her throat, resuming her lesson.

“Now that you children are 13, you are no longer babies. Certain things are expected of you. You have embarked on your journey to adulthood...and thus, there are certain things you must know. The elements of our village, for one.”

She gestured to the figurines on the dirt floor in front of her. “As you all already know, there are four elements.” She pointed to a spiky pyramid, and then to a smooth sphere. “Ember, Aqua...” Her fingers moved to the next pair- a rough cube and a glassy cone. “...Terra and Aer. These are the symbols of the elements. Of course, you all have already seen the life-sized versions of these in our square.”

Eager nods, making her continue with a pleased smile.

“Every dragon on this planet has a corresponding element that they have control over. They possess immense power, and the ability to command these elements.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Hm, maybe this wasn’t as lame as he’d thought it would be..

“I’m sure you children have seen your parents, older friends and relatives with their dragons.” There was a chorus of agreement, and the woman nodded.

“Well, from next week onwards, you will each have your own dragons. Through the ceremony, you will all be assigned a hatchling, with which you will spend the rest of your life.”

Minho hummed in curiosity as the woman dismissed the class. “Good luck, loves. Remember, there will be a few more classes to brief you further.”

The others started filing out slowly as you turned to Minho. “Isn’t this exciting?” You tilted your head, running your eyes over the figurines. “Since my family are all fire elementals, do you think I’ll get an ember dragon?”

“I don’t think it works that way. My father said it doesn’t matter what family you come from, the dragon you get matched with can be of any element, apparently. Though it hasn’t ever happened yet.” He shrugged.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He yawned. “I already knew everything she said. I could have used this valuable time for something else.” He was lying, to be honest. The only thing he knew about dragons was what he’d just told you.  

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Do you wanna go to the lake?”

You grinned. “Sure, let’s!” You nodded in agreement as Minho stood up eagerly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the cottage. You giggled as he dragged you. “Hey, slow down! Also, we can’t be there for long. We’ve got to be home for that joint dinner, or our fathers will be very mad.”

“Eh, they’d barely notice if we’re gone. When discussing village matters, they don’t give a fuck about their own children, even.” He muttered bitterly.

“Well...that is true.” You sighed as Minho pulled you all the way to the lake, weaving past the villagers, even bumping into some of them. A few of them frowned and made shouts of displeasure, while others didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe they did, and was just too afraid to voice their anger towards the chiefs’ children.

The cottages start becoming more sparse, the trees more tightly clustered. Minho held your hand tightly as you made your way through the woods. Finally, the two of you reached the clearing.

Letting go of your hand gently, Minho sat at the edge of the lake, beckoning you over to sit next to him.

“I wish this place wasn’t so far away from the village.” You sighed, legs aching as you flopped down onto the grass.

Minho shook his head slowly, his fingers fiddling with a tiny dandelion he’d pulled out. “The further away, the better.” He grumbled, blowing on it and watching as the seeds floated in the breeze.

You sighed. There it was, again. You knew better than to oppose him, so you hummed, scooting a little closer and placing your hand on top of his. “I know you want to leave this place. I know you want to...to explore the world. I just want you to know that whatever you decide to do, I’ll be by your side.” You said honestly.

Minho looked up at you. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He felt like there was a lump in his throat. Minho knew how much this village and its culture meant to you. You were really willing to do that for him? Leave, and never come back?

“Listen here, Miss L/n.” He turned to you, inhaling as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft as they brushed against your skin. You blushed, staring at him with wide eyes as he spoke.

“I’m the one who’s going to be making the sacrifices here, alright? I’m older than you, remember? I call the shots.” He chuckled, booping your nose. 

“I love you so much, star.”

You cringed at the nickname, shoving him away. “Stop calling me that, you sound like a character in one of Mr Yang’s cheesy novels.”

He smirked at that. “I’ll never stop calling you that. You’re my star, cause you light up my world and guide me when everything’s dark.” He reasoned, laughing and throwing his head back as he watched you wrinkle your nose in disgust, looking a little like a bunny.

Humming, Minho lay back on the grass, and you followed suit after a minute of hesitation.

“I don’t mind you calling me that. Just don’t do it in front of people.”

“Okay, I won’t. It’s just us all the time, anyway...”

The two of you stared up at the sky, listening to the calm sounds of frogs ribbiting, birds chirping, and the splashing sounds of the fish in the lake. Above it all though, was the sound of your heart, beating persistently as Minho’s fingers creeped closer to yours, intertwining your hands.

“It’s always us...”

***

Your father had explained to you that since your family consisted entirely of ember elementals, your dragon would be of the same kind as well. This went against what Minho had told you before, and your mind was swimming with all the different information you were receiving.

“But...Minho said it doesn’t work that way.”

He sat on his armchair, chewing on  a chicken leg as he raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, he’s wrong.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s never happened in centuries, and it’s not gonna happen now. You’re an Ember, through and through.”

You purse your lips. “Well, you’re always right, Father.”

He nodded, not picking up on the snark your sentence was dripping with. "The bond you share with your dragon is one that can never be replicated. You choose it, and it chooses you. It is truly a beautiful process, a spectacle to behold. Every single villager will be watching, so you better hold your head high. Make me proud."

You were about to reply when you heard a knock on your door. Glancing at your father for permission, you stood up. heading through the long hallway to open the front door.

“Minho?”

You looked at him, tilting your head at his troubled expression. “What’s up?

“I came to give you these.” He said softly, looking around before showing you the fiery petals in his palms. “I borrowed a herbology book from the library a few months ago, and learnt how to grow these. Ignis flowers. They’re symbols of good luck, apparently.”

He took your hand, placing the petals on your palm. “They reminded me of you.”

Your eyes widened slowly. “Wow...Minho, I didn’t get you anything...” You said guiltily, humming when Minho gently pulled you into a hug.

“You don’t have to. I’ve got to go home, now. See you tomorrow!”

You nodded, the petals safe in your hands as he left hurriedly. You watched him head to his house, opposite to yours.

After he left, you were about to head to bed when your father asked you to stay back. Confused, you went over to sit in front of him, tilting your head in confusion.

“Who was at the door?”

“It was just Minho.” You shrugged, eyeing your father as he groaned, massaging his forehead. He looked like he was contemplating something, his wrinkles seeming especially prominent.

"Child, be wary of your...friend."

"Friend...?" You knew he meant Minho. You'd never heard him address him in that manner though - void of affection.

Minho's father and yours were co-chiefs of the village, best friends since birth. He’d always treated Minho like his own son. What had brought on this sudden hostility?

He noticed the expression on your face, sighing and patting your shoulder. "I'm just asking you to be careful, dear. There is talk of the Aer elementals gaining power at an accelerated rate these days. Aer dragons are growing up to be stronger, even more so than our Ember ones. It's truly a strange phenomenon. I do not want to be one of these people who is suspicious of everything and everyone...but both the kid and his father have changed. Even I can't deny that."

You swallowed at his words, watching as his face drifted off, deep in thought. You'd heard of it too- hushed whispers claiming that a single chief would be preferable for the village. And if your father's hunch was right...no, you didn't want to think about it.

Minho wouldn't ever betray you. You'd known him since before you could talk. you’d build up a lot of trust in each other over the years. There was no one else you knew as well. If you couldn’t trust him, who could?

No. He would never hurt you. You were sure of it.

***

The whole village was buzzing for weeks after the ceremony took place. They simply couldn't understand what had happened. It was unprecedented- and the news spread like wildfire.

You were matched with a majestic Aer creature, and Minho a beautiful crimson beast of Ember. Mistakes weren't possible- the process was never questioned- but that didn't mean people weren't bewildered.

For centuries, no one had managed to match with a dragon that controlled an element that differed from theirs.

Neither of you could understand why your fathers and the villagers were so perplexed, though. Was it really as big of a deal as they made it seem?

"I don't get it. Why is it such a humongous problem? They’re just dragons. What’s the need for all this drama?" Minho rolled his eyes as he spoke.

You stroked your dragon's neck slowly as you watched him, huffing and ranting away. ‘Just dragons.’ There was a part of you that understood all the hubbub. The people loved gossip- especially if it involved the chiefs.

"It really isn't. They're both so beautiful, I don't really care what element they control."

You looked at your dragon, curled next to you. You wouldn't admit it, but she looked a little too beautiful- almost to the point where it intimidated you.

Translucent, white scales that reflected rainbows of light...long, beautiful almond shaped eyes that were the color of the ocean. She was larger and brighter than Minho's dragon as well. Your father had been right...the Aer dragons were evolving quicker, somehow.

She was quiet and regal, her sleek body elegant and her demeanor refined. You didn’t really have much in common, to be honest. You’d named her Caeli- a name that wasn’t really all that creative, but it would do. Besides, it seemed to fit.

Minho looked at you, sighing slowly. "Aeracus seems hungry. Father will be expecting me soon anyway, I think I'll go home now, Y/n."

"Bye, Min."

He shot you a dashing grin before standing up, climbing his dragon.

As they left, a great whoosh of wind rustling your hair, you looked up at your dragon. She was staring at the water, her eyes narrowed.

You were starting to feel a little worried. You couldn’t exactly...hear her thoughts. She seemed too closed off, barely even looking at you as she blankly watched the frogs jump from one lilypad to the other. You didn’t feel that special bond everyone had been talking about for years, insisting to you that it would be a connection so profound you wouldn’t be able to live without it.

Did she not like you? You looked so average next to her ethereality, drab and plain as opposed to her stunning beauty.

You couldn’t blame her, really.

***

When Minho stood next to your dragon, the sight somehow made more sense. He was  beautiful, and so was the creature next to him. They fit together perfectly.

Aeracus on the other hand, was slightly more average. He was majestic as well, but not on the same level as Caeli. You felt more at home riding him, somehow. Like...he was the one that was meant to be yours.

Of course, you wouldn’t ever tell anyone about this. It could be considered infidelity, even. Your father was disappointed enough in you as it was. Four years of training with Caeli, and you still weren’t able to channel her power into...anything. She just wouldn’t co-operate.

"There you go..." He finished slipping the harness onto Caeli, dusting off his hands as he came back over to you, giggling as Aeracus rubbed his big head against your side.

Minho raised his eyebrows at the display of affection. Aeracus was never that amicable to him. Yes, he listened to him...but that was about it. And yet, to you...he always noticed how the two of you seemed to have some sort of connection. He’d mentioned this to his father once, only to be called ridiculous.

Then again, he couldn’t blame the dragon for having a soft spot for you. Who wouldn’t?

“Hey...” He looked down at you as the dragon pulled away, ambling off to Caeli’s side. You glanced up slowly when Minho cleared his throat, leaning in a little as his fingers ran through your tresses. Your cheeks flushed, eyes widening slightly at his touch.

"A leaf. In your hair." He mumbled, throwing said leaf onto the ground as he stared into your eyes.

Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest as your gaze ran over his features, so close to your face. Fuck, he was so deathly handsome, even more so now that you were both almost adults. Puberty had treated him well.

A little too well.

The girls in the square swooning over Minho became a regular occurrence now. You couldn't even seem to go anywhere with your best friend, without having a mob of fangirls following closely.

When he was this close to you, it became overwhelmingly evident why his fans were so enamored by him. Lee Minho really was beautiful.

"Careful, a fly might make its nest in your mouth." He chuckled. "What's up, kitten? You look on edge."

That was the other thing. His latest habit of calling you pet names- the likes of which included princess and kitten- had come out of nowhere. He really seemed to enjoy making you blush. At times like this, you wished he would have just stuck with ‘star’.

“Nothing.” You stuttered, avoiding his eyes and choosing to focus your stare on the ground. Minho wasn’t in the mood for your shyness, though. He placed his finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You sure about that? Is there a reason you look so flustered right now?” He breathed, leaning in closer until your noses were brushing.

Oh, fuck you, Lee.

You'd always thought Minho was attractive. Of course. You'd be blind not to notice. And yet, at this proximity, you felt like you haven’t ever truly appreciated just how fucking hot the man in front of you was.

And so you did something you never thought you’d have the courage to do.

Leaning in, you closed the distance between the two of you, lips crashing against his. To Minho’s credit, he wasn’t all that shocked. Smirking against you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, gluing your body to his.

Backing you up against a tree, Minho was quick to lift your thigh, slotting your hips together as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip.

A groan left you as he slid his hand under your shirt, pulling away to stare at you, the sight of your swollen lips affecting him in ways he couldn’t quite describe.

“What...what did we just-”

He shut you up with another kiss, rougher than the last one. Breathless pecks, desperately claiming you with his lips as he pressed himself against you.

“Just go with the flow, baby.”

And so you did.

***

As you carefully made your way down, your mind was racing with a million thoughts. The thought of seeing your boyfriend again after so many years scared you as much as it excited you. After all...it wasn’t like you parted on good terms.

You still remembered the heartbroken look on his face, the last time you saw him. You couldn’t tell him that you’d tried everything, tried your best to reason with your father who simply refused to budge. He’d expected you to do something more...but what?

It wasn’t his fault. It was a fucking accident, and yet he’d had to take the blame.

Deep down, though, you knew what your father’s real intentions had been when he banished Minho and his father from the village. Of course, Caeli’s death had shaken him- the entire village had been in a state of shock. The death of a dragon was the most tragic event that could possibly befall a village. And when said dragon happened to belong to the chief’s daughter? Shattering.

At the end of the day though, it was a convenient incident...one that happened to take place just as your father’s status was being questioned. A blessing in disguise, for him.

“It’s okay, my child. Yes, you suffered a great loss, but I know you weren’t that close to it. We must move on. On the bright side, you can focus on your studies now! Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted to do?”

You scoffed, his words repeating themselves in your brain. Bullshit. There was no bright side, nor would there ever be one without Minho in your life.

***

“There you are. Where were you?"

"I...was with Aeracus." You didn't see the point in lying. Your brain was too tired to come up with a believable fabrication anyway.

As expected, his face screwed up in anger as he glared, standing up.

"Why?" He hissed. "Let me remind you he is not your dragon. How many times have I told you not to get too close to it?"

"Aeracus and I have a bond." You mumbled.

"No. You don't. A bond is forged between a dragon and its owner by forces beyond our control. This measly 'friendship', if you can even call it that, is trivial. At the end of the day, it doesn't really belong to you. It belongs to the boy who betrayed you."

You couldn't bring yourself to react any more. Your father was old-fashioned, his opinions set in stone. ‘Betrayed’. You wanted to scoff.

You turned around without a word, heading for your room. There was no energy left in your body, yet the exhaustion was overpowered by your emotions.

"Y/n, wait."

You stopped, turning and looking at him. "What?"

"Your maids are waiting to dress you. Don't argue with them. You are to wear the outfit I picked out for you. Today's dinner is extremely important." He paused. "And...what I said before still stands. The dragon won't hesitate to betray you, especially now that his true owner is coming back. Be...be careful." Your father said quietly, his face softening.

You sighed. "I will be."

"Good."

He dismissed you. You heaved a sigh of relief under your breath and headed out, opening the door to your own room.

You would never admit this to your father, but as nervous as you were, you were secretly looking forward to the dinner. To see him again.

If you closed your eyes and immersed yourself deep enough into your imagination, you could still feel his touch ghosting along your thighs. His soft lips, pressing against yours.

You missed his voice, his tight hugs...you missed everything about him. You'd only ever felt safe in his arms.

The loneliness and pain had consumed you when he left. Maybe that's why you latched on to Aeracus, the last remnant of Minho in this village that seemed so much more dreary without his presence.

"Miss Y/n! We have no time to lose." Your head maid scurried about your room with two others, spreading out your dress on your bed. One of the maids- Sylvia, you think her name was- snuck up behind you and began undressing you. Yes, you were used to this, but the layer of urgency in the atmosphere was a lot more profound tonight.

The entire village was on edge, and you couldn’t really blame them. The first Elemental Championships, and they were being hosted at your village. The exhilaration was understandable...you couldn't bring yourself to feel the same way, though. Maybe if you were actually participating, you’d feel different.

You looked at the dress the maid was holding onto, initially without much interest...but your eyes widened when it came into view.

It was beautiful, yet simple...the color of spun gold, with tiny rubies clustered at the bodice. The sleeves fell of the shoulders delicately, and the material was diaphanous, the texture rich.

“Wow....Sylvia, you made this?”

“I did. It took me a year.” She smiled widely, your grin satisfying her. “Do you really like it, Miss Y/n?” There was a hopeful lilt to her voice, and your grin grew wider as they started helping you into it.

“Like it? I love it! You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

She nodded in content, lacing up the back as the other maids began on your makeup. Usually, you didn’t like being treated as a doll, your servants fussing over you and your appearance. Today, though...

You could barely believe the reflection you were seeing in the mirror belonged to you. You'd never felt so glamorous before. 

“You look beautiful, Miss.” Sylvia said softly, adjusting your sleeves.

You couldn’t wait for Minho to see you in this dress.

“Ann?” Another servant’s head appeared around the corner. “It’s time. They will arrive any moment now.”

A flurry of anxious noises and exclamations filled the room as they worked on you faster. You took a deep breath in, your mind blank and full of thoughts at the same time.

***

You stood next to your father, hands clasped in front of you. Surreptitiously, you raised your hand to your forehead, wiping away a few drops of perspiration. It was happening, you were finally going to see Minho again. And if your father successfully manages to make amends with his- fuck, you were grinning just thinking about it. 

The villagers standing behind you were all dressed in their best as well, and the lanterns shone brightly, washing over everything. The air was sparkling, the atmosphere charged with electricity. Everyone had their eyes trained on the sky, waiting for Minho’s people. The two other villages were to come tomorrow, according to the letters.

Four villages. All competing in the championship yours was hosting. It was nerve-wracking, the amount of people who would be crammed into your village, which was big enough, really- possibly the largest in the country- it still stressed you out, though. Since there weren’t enough guest houses to fit everyone, a lot of the visitors would be staying with your villagers, the chiefs and their families staying at your house. You were keenly aware of the fact that this meant Minho would be in the same living quarters as you. Your heart pounded at the prospect.

Later in the night, you were planning to sneak into his room, since you obviously wouldn’t be allowed to talk to him during the dinner. At least, you wouldn’t be able to communicate the things you so desperately wanted to say to him. Every part of you tingled as you thought about what you’d say to him. 

You felt light as a feather as you stared at the starry sky, eyes widening slightly as you spotted the thousands of dots in the distance, flying closer. Anticipation and exhilaration mingled in you as you waited for them to arrive. Just the thought of feeling Minho pressed up against you again, whispering in your ear how much he loved you...it made you want to cry, almost. You’d waited for this moment for too long.

The conch shell was blown as they reached the edge of the forest. More than a thousand dragons, covered in finery, just like their riders.

Hmm. There were a lot more than you expected. You’d only been anticipating about a hundred, since it was only Minho’s village that was coming tonight. Or so you’d thought...

You turned your head to look at your father, letting the confusion show on your face. Noticing your expression, he shrugged. “It looks like all three decided to come tonight.”

You frowned, looking back at the dragons that were at the border now, preparing for landing. That was weird.

You observed the dragons that had landed, your eyebrows furrowing. Huh.

The three dragons at the front were a lot bulkier than the ones in the back. Darker colors, almost hulking muscles and narrow eyes. They looked like no dragon you’d ever seen before. The sight was almost unsettling. You felt a faint sense of dread spreading over you, a feeling you tried to push away as your eyes searched each dragon’s back for Minho.

You recognized Minho’s father right away. He was at the very front, along with two other old men on a green and blue dragon respectively, that you realized were the chiefs of the other two villages. Surprisingly though, Minho wasn’t sat behind him. You’d assumed it to be that way...after all, Minho’s dragon was still here. So where was he? Your eyebrows furrowed, not wanting to assume the worst right away. You wildly looked over them all, craning your neck slightly. You didn’t want to seem too eager, but it’s not like you could help yourself. Could anyone blame you? Here you were, about to meet the first and only person you’d ever fallen in love with, after years of yearning and loneliness.

As your father stepped forward, a smile on his face to greet the chiefs, you finally saw him.

For a minute, it was like you couldn’t breathe. He looked as beautiful as ever, his feline eyes twinkling, his dark hair exposing part of his smooth forehead. His hands gripped the reins so tightly his knuckles were white, and the way he sat on his dragon was regal, his expression confident and filled with determination. He was older, and somehow even more handsome than the last time you saw him. You didn’t even think that was possible.

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat as his eyes finally met yours.

It was like time had ceased for a minute. You smiled slowly, happy tears pricking at your eyes as you took in his face.

He didn’t smile back.

And that’s when you noticed the pale arms wrapped around his waist. Confused, you watched as the chiefs dismounted the dragons, along with their heirs. Minho alighted from the dragon, helping down the woman who had been holding onto him. He held her hands gently, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

You felt like your whole world had collapsed, bile rising in your throat as you watched her giggle. You noticed she was dressed in blue, her clothing that of a heiress. As they approached, your eyes fell on the sparkling ring on her finger...one that matched Minho’s.

When his eyes looked into yours again, they were cold, just like your heart.