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eternalhealingau · 11 months

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Eternal Healing…

an oc x canon (w/ sfw mpreg) ship au (Introductory Chapter)

This is gonna be what sets up the rest of the AU. Please read it if you wanna get the idea of what's to come in the future...... highly highly recommend and I could not say it enough. (THIS IS MY OWN ART BTW: DO NOT STEAL//ASK FOR PERMISSION//DO NOT USE FOR AI PURPOSES FTLOG)

Begins below the cut....

It wasn't truly known to the multiverse but there was one bubble that seemingly came from nowhere. It had a chaotic signature. But no golb energy. Free from the chaos that came before it and yet totally filled with it. A sign that this universe didn't seem to go by the standards of that which the others had maintained by some weird "out-of-mortal-reach" standpoint.

Prismo turned to it from surfing around. His eye sparkling as he notices it's uniqueness from every other universe he's tapped into...... Yet it has peaked some interest. He looks deeper into it. Mythological kinds resembling the greeks...modernized? There were literal gods roaming the earth? How can that be? He searches deeper into this universe. Seeing a captivating story unfold. He knows the stories of the old from the creation myth to the herculean and odyssey. But one had stuck out from the rest. The Moiraios Pateras. The fated father. From skimming through the universe's timeline a silhouette appears on the screen. Tall, muscular, pierced, tatted and rather low-key in their demeanor. A pink aura surrounded them. Suggesting feminine qualities. But by their wrists, pure golden rings. They seemingly smoked a cigarette as one of their signature pieces of who they are. What made them, themself in their image of godhood. Without notice, he gets a call from Fiona. His attention being interrupted as he hears a frantic and albeit a little anxiety ridden tone. "Prismo! You gotta help us! Simon's been silent for the past few months. I've tried calling him, texting him, everything! But when I went over to his place, he barged the house and how he's gone fucking coo coo!! HE'S BEEN TRYING TO SUMMON BETTY AGAIN!" More frantic noises came from the other line. Old man whining, a gruff sounding Cake trying to keep him still and Fiona seemingly grunting from exertion in an effort to pin him down, keeping him from going completely haywire. Fuck it's a relapse. Therapy didn't do the trick for his ability to move on, did it? His expression drops without a second thought and quite worried for them, Prismo summons them.

All of them looked like they'd belong in a bowl of ramen they were so intertwined. Simon's head only appearing out from beyond two legs as he was squeezed tight from Cake's body. Squirming to be let go so he could 'finish what he started'. And if his wet cat appearance didn't already shock you enough, he looked even more rugged. His eye bags far more definite, white eyes still crazed out of their mind, spit almost running from the mouth, hair matted and frizzled, even his outfit was either halfway worn or was nearly completely off. Leaving him nearly naked. Jeez Simon you sure relapsed into your own self-made insanity there. Finally when he was able to be let loose, he scattered to the screen and slammed his back against it. Hyperventilating. Not even thinking about where he was. The duo meanwhile, felt almost sick to their stomach seeing him nearly more close in line to the refrigerator version of himself. Just more alive and....writhing with an overactive conscious. Cake looked back up to her blonde companion and bit her lip. Asking a question that seemed a little too harsh but had a point to be driven across. "Do you think he might have a mild case of rabies, girl?" Fiona shook her head as she looked at him. Her own emotions and conscious fighting for supremacy as much as Cake's was. The hairs and fur on both of their bodies standing up finally taking his insane form in for a look once again.

The old grunt seemingly calmed down a little bit before realizing where he was and nearly crying. Sulking in his depression once more. He was so close, nearly there....but it was just no use. He tried so hard for his love. But fate still has its ways of teaching him. Even if he wanted to checkmate fate any way he could. Even by trying to summon her one final time. But looking around, trying to make his thoughts clear even if his emotions didn't want him too, he notices a deeply concerned Prismo with a pensive look to him. "You just couldn't handle the wait.... could you?" He spoke. The old man simply looked to his side. Not wanting any confrontation at the moment. But, time pushed on. And with time, came more conservations and desperate hopes to get him to talk. "Simon, you know that what you did wasn't gonna work out, right?" Still with the silence. His heart ached with each little word spoken before him. He couldn't bear to keep a front, but if he wanted to return to what he was doing earlier, then he had to stick it out. But doing that he made himself look like a toddler in denial. Still......, with one more question. "Betty won't return again, man. You remember?"

"...I clearly do. And I have no regrets to everything I've done thus far." He bit his lip as he growled at him with tears. "Can't you just let an old man live to see his wife in some other way--" Simon gets cut short by Prismo interrupting him. "Ah ah ah.. Nope. Not having this conversation. She's gone dude. Her next life is a comet now that she's been..... given a chance by some other entity."

Simon put his head in his knees, not wanting to face Prismo or his neighboring companions for all he cared. Again, the conversation needed momentum and the multiverse watcher wasn't gonna let up. Nor was he gonna shy away from the truth as Fiona and Cake watched in heartbroken blunder. "Can't you see the reality to this situation that you've made...?" A long silence befell everyone in the room. The big screen fizzled out to the universe still being watched. Now just focusing on the present moment that was going on there. No one batted their gaze. Just focusing on Simon. Prismo sighed. "You relapsed dude....."

From that point on, Simon finally bursted into tears and flopped onto the ground. Prompting Cake to shapeshift into a big bean bag for him to rest upon lazily. Fiona was right over to lend him a hand to hold and a person to be comforted by. "Let it out dude....it's okay." His cries turned ugly as he continued forth trying his damnest to recount his memories of Betty while being faced with his crippling reality check. He finally was able to let the mental and emotional wound be opened once more. Cleaned by tears that were dying to come out. It was freeing but the effects were soul crushing.

....

they nearly stayed like that for fifteen minutes.... just comforting an old man who was close to them by their friendship. Prismo in the meantime was configuring how to fix this situation. Coming up dry every time he thought of something? Erasing golb statues? Simon would be the only one to know of such an object. Displacing memories? He'd be back to his insane half. Destroying the crown? Nigh. Wouldn't work as something was gonna be out there to trap it or harness it for other purposes anyways.

Still, Simon would have a minuscule chance of finding it and Prismo was not willing to run that risk in the moment. But his eye keeps darting towards the screen. Seeing the universe that he skimmed to. Could there be a way to send him there so he could be pushed to move forward? Move forward and be done sulking entirely? Because if this forces a habit onto him then his mind would change finally. But he'd still be the only one to know about the Golb nonsense he put himself through.....tough choices man..... tough choices.

Alas, after minutes of hearing Simon trying to come back to a more calm state, Prismo just decides to roll with this risky idea. "I may or may not have a plan. That doesn't involve the golb or Betty. Simon." He batted an eye towards the cowering and sulking individual. Now wiping his snot with Fiona's shirt. Gross. The dark brunette to ravenette looked back up. Tears still in his eyes but a more ready and accepting energy seemed to come to mind. It's like this was the 'it' moment that Simon was wishing would come sooner. Like death or something similar. He nods.

"What if I send you into this world...?"

The team immediately looks back up at the screen and notices the scenery. It started out looking much to the chagrin of the Alamo. But instead of its walls being an aged stone, they looked freshly painted to an old former glory not seen since the 1700s during Spanish Colonialism. But instead of hispanic culture, it looked a little greek. You had your spanish influence from the riverwalks, but there was a bonus added on flair of grecian flavor. The river's banks had fairies of multiple pastel hues ranging from a what's seemingly common pink, to a rare case of a pure ashy grey. They hid into some of the trees to keep their distance from humans below. But when they were in the water, it seemingly looked like they bathed at night. Amidst the moonlight.

Simon feels something billow in his lower stomach as he watched. It was suuuupper faint. But it felt like nothing but a small nervous tickle. He pushed it aside as the scenery continued to be shown.

Another shift in the screen and it showcased a piece of more rural texas lit up by a pink colored festival. Dancing and parading in the area, with tailgating and campsites established. Very Woodstock reminiscent but also more closely in tune with a big get together of locals that came for the party. What was in mind, was again, more pink colored motifs. More moon imagery and what was more strange is that the men themselves in some cases.... looked as if they 'carried' children too. Was there some sort of magic enabling cross-biological pregnancies? It piqued his interest but racked his levels nervousness.

Once more, another shift. This time it was in the summertime months. It looked hot and it decided to feature a pool party happening at some mansion in the middle of the city on a ranch. The greek flags were held high, the texan one flew same height and no sight of an american one. Very prideful people it seemed. From the noise, it felt like a family get-together. The people there were more mature in their looks. Taller than an average mortal. By several feet at most. It brought Simon's emotions back down to a level of ease as he saw how comfortable they all were together.

One of the members wielded thunder as well as a very jovial and horny personality, one of them wielded water with a trident ordained with a cool demeanor, another one naturally liked to practice boxing on one of the trees in the backyard. A few of the women in this huge family get together seemed busty and pale in complexion. They all had either white to grey hair, soft features and a soft demeanor. Sensitive and doting. Delighting in the pool, they seemed to be resting on someone's shoulders. Their hands swirled around this one's shoulders. They looked tatted, couldn't give less of a shit, looked like they had hoes and yet had no sexual drive to carry on. Smoking a cigarette they let these women of sorts hug them. Not hindering in enjoying some sweet affection. But they all conversed like they were family. Questions like, 'so did you find him yet?' 'is there anyone in particular?' 'when will the new age begin? I-err... we! can't be waiting like this~!' Their eyes were grey, with dark brown hair. They even had pierced lips, a septum nosering, eyebrow and ear studs. This person sounded nothing like a man but leaned close to that margin. "I have no clue, just enjoy the time we got for right now y'all. It may feel like hell but we'll be outta here at some point." They cackled.

Simon's heart started to beat a tiny little bit more. Like he's taken interest already. But, he's barely met this woman...man....person.... Ohhh Prismo. What have you done to bless this man?

Before he could turn back to Prismo, he gave it some thought on whether to go there or not. But, even if he remembers Betty in this moment in time, with how risk taking she was, it's about time he took one such chance of his own. Besides he never truly knows what it's like until he leaves his home and explores. You never make history by sitting around. You never create nostalgia by moping. As he continues to ponder though, he considers another thought. Will Fiona and everyone he's ever known be there? It looked unlikely and with some wild thought, he even dived deeper into the 'what if's of combining universes. He gulped as his decisions were clearly starting to become more finite in their ways. There was only one way of things going if he really wanted to go there.

"Prismo....if there's any way you can make sure that Fiona, Cake, Marcy, Bonnie, Marshall and everyone else, as well as the residents in Ooo itself also end up there...." He finally stands tall, hands to his sides as he's positioned to look like an avatar off of a video game screen. "Then I'd be happy to go." Fiona and Cake stand flabbergasted at each other, now standing tall themselves. Giving themselves a chance to look back at the screen as one white star fills the TV screen on a black void. A silence befell them as life begins to alter in their minds. Wondering what they would be able to find there and what kinds of crazy scenarios they'd be able to handle given such extreme weather conditions and unique magic/power dispositions.

The scene slowed....

Prismo's fingers were about to snap.

The duo looks to each other, beginning to go about their mantra. "You know what time it is?"

Simon's eyes closed slowly as the moment drew near.

Fiona and Cake finished their mantra, responding to each other with a fist bump. The iconic energy was back baby! "Adventure time!!"

[SNAP]

......

Cicadas sung their sweet melody with the crickets in a nature based choir.... all in the last few minutes of twilight. The hunk seemingly rushing over to these bodies that laid asleep near the backyards trees. A deeply southern tone with both concern and worry, masqueraded with a tough resilience comes forth.

"Oh Saturn.....~"

#simon petrikov #fionna and cake #mpreg #greek myth retellings #oc x canon #worlds collide #i hope you like it #cw mpreg #tw mpreg #tw depressing stuff #tw panic attack

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liightbringr · 8 months

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𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝.

@verumking asked: The king of truth had grown weary of the spotlight that came with his monarchial and deific status. He did not seek an audience to witness his every declaration, nor did he long for the universe to observe his every breath. Thus did death incarnate invite the maiden of light to a desolate island: palm trees and distant birdsong being their sole company. Yozora pressed his forehead against Eva's, heterochromatic eyes lidded before whispering a confession against her parted lips: "Marry me."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄, but it isn't what she sees around them. It isn't the cresting waves of a coming tide, or the swaying of palm trees that seemingly dance in the setting sun; she finds paradise to be a construct well known by his side. She's come to know that wherever he goes, she will follow. She's come to know that wherever she goes, he will follow. There is never one without the other when the pair is brought into regard. Never a line that draws them askew or circumstances that could keep them apart for long. Their existence is an inevitable thing. && so it should come as no surprise that her heart yields to the way he looks at her. They are one in the same---even if they've only just realized it. Marching on toward the same goal. So she follows him. She allows him to guide her bare feet through sand && feel the salty breeze brush through her hair. Wholly content to exist in this type of peace with him without a single word uttered. A feat in && of itself, for her brightness can be rambunctious at oft times. Perhaps there's something to be noted about the comfort && security she feels around him. The ability to be one's true self is a blessing, surely. But the silence is far more fitting once his skin conforms to her own. Lithe digits that interlace with his own like lock && key, the tip of her nose gingerly nudging against his own. But... nothing could've possibly prepared her for the words to follow his tenderness. More a breath against her lips where the ghost of a kiss still lingers. Where her eyes suddenly dart to his own, searching desperately for a punchline for fear she may be dreaming. But she has come to know in her time with him that his words are sincere. He is always genuine with her. He smiles around her. He loves her. && so a stumble of a breath cycles through her lungs. Closeness draws her nearer to press into his chest whilst her eyes never leave his own. He spoke it as a plea, not a question; a demand, not a request. && yet Eva has, for some time, considered herself his && his alone. None could steal her away, none could persuade her to betray the way her heart sings when near him. But words could hardly do this moment any justice. There are quips that could be made, snarky little remarks that might lighten the air, but the seriousness of a life-changing decision deserves better. && so her hands rise with purpose. Delicate palms smooth against the canvas of his jawline before interlacing at the nape of his neck, paired with the way she coaxes him into a kiss with all that she has. Drinking deep that desire for eternity. Letting this kiss be her answer: Please.

#verumking #ask.#v; main.#SCREAMS INTO MY HANDS #THE BABIES THE BABIES THE BABIES #I LOVE THEM SM

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the-tzarina-alexandra-paracosm · 1 year

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Vote based on the design AND the backstory

Otto

(The 5 Books of the Immortals - 2015-2016)

Role: side character

He is desperately searching for his lost teenage son, Günther, who ran away because he was ashamed of his being expelled. The only problem is that the boy in question ran from home in the middle of the war. Otto grabbed his bags and set out on a very dangerous and seemingly pointless journey, but he always believed he would find his son again ons day. He endured a lot of hardship and even physical injuries, but he didn't lose hope or faith, and after years, he finally saw his son again (now almost 20).

Ainārs

(The Land of Eternal Winter - 2019-2020)

Role: side character

He is a teen orphan who never got adopted, și he decided to get a grown up occupation sooner, thus joining the revolution. He befriends Melanija, who's his age. He manages to keep up with the others, until his pretending to be more grown up than he is gets him into extremely reckless and dangerous situations, leaving permanent damage. He ends up wishing he had stayed a child, but it's too late.

Additional info

The 5 Books of the Immortals - 2015-2016

Status: completed (Romanian, typed)

Form: novel

Genre: war story, drama

Lev is a very bright chemistry student. He has the time of his life in college, making close friendships (and meeting the love of his life, Alyona), but the fairy tale is cut short with the announcement of WW2. He goes to war, but Alyona, how his wife, volunteers to join the war, just to stay with him (she's now a medic, being a medicine graduate). Lev's best friend is Zephyr, an uptight straight A student who learned to loosen up thanks to him.

The found family vibes are strong with this one. At some point they find a teen boy who was pretending to be 18 and they all but adopt him. The story has many very dramatic and heart wrenching moments, but also many heartwarming moments. For example, at the end, the boy is finally reunited with his father. It's not a very mature or that logical of a story, but it's my first "masterpiece", and I still find it very beautiful, especially the characters (they all love each other so much!!!).

(I changed the names and details for the purpose of this poll because there were some things that were just plain inaccurate or just that I changed after having finished the novel).

The Land of Eternal Winter - 2019-2020

Status: complete (draft 1: English, typed, draft 2 in the works)

Form: novel

Genre: mild steampunk, kinda post apoc but mostly drama (and court drama)

Anatoliy is a prince whose beloved father just died, so he assumes it was an assassination. He suspects the neighbouring king and has him killed, only to later realise he was innocent. He is almost completely overcome by guilt and despair, but ultimately fights to do whatever in his power to not only fix the consequences of his crime, but to also mitigate the effects of the much larger conspiracy at work that he found himself an unwitting pawn in. There are very many side characters, each with their own complex stories, which all tie into the idea that ones desire to change the world may be futile, or even become evil, but we must still strive to do good here on earth despite no rewards in sight. I'd say this is my 2nd "masterpiece" work in terms of writing

#my ultimate oc tournament #round 1

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flyingraijinguy · 5 days

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ASH ETERNAL DREAM:- STORY THAT ALSO HAUNTS POKEMON

*What if everything you knew about Pokémon was a lie? What if Ash Ketchum, the eternal 10-year-old boy who’s traveled through countless regions, caught legendary Pokémon, and faced off against powerful foes, has been dreaming all along—trapped in a coma from which he may never wake?*

This is not just a fan theory. It's a *nightmare* that casts an eerie shadow over the colorful world of Pokémon.

---

**The Accident That Changed Everything**

Let’s go back to Episode 1, where it all began. Ash, filled with excitement, embarks on his Pokémon journey, only to be electrocuted by Pikachu during a wild encounter with a flock of Spearow.

> **Some believe that this is the moment Ash fell into a coma.**

Sure, it looked like just another adventure in the world of Pokémon, but was it actually the start of his eternal sleep? The coma theory suggests that the rest of Ash's journey is nothing but a vivid hallucination, a fever dream born out of his deep subconscious desire to become a Pokémon Master.

> *A dream that keeps him trapped in a state of suspended animation.*

#### **Time Never Moves Forward**

One of the eeriest aspects of this theory is the fact that Ash *never ages*.

> **How is it possible that Ash has remained 10 years old for over 20 years?**

While characters like Brock and Misty fade into the background, seemingly unchanged by the passage of time, Ash continues his journey with an almost supernatural resilience.

What if this agelessness is proof of his coma? In his dream world, time is frozen, and he remains in the same state he was in before his accident. The world around him evolves, but he never truly grows, forever suspended in a childlike state.

#### **The Unending Loop**

Ash's world, though filled with endless adventures, is stuck in a loop. *He never achieves his goal.*

> ***What if the Pokémon League losses, the never-ending search for legendary creatures, and his constant rotation of friends and rivals are all projections of his own mind, desperately trying to break free from the coma?***

#### **The Friends Who Fade Away**

What’s even more haunting is how Ash’s companions seem to fade into the background after each region. Brock, Misty, Serena, Dawn—they come and go, as if they were never really there.

> **Could it be that Ash’s mind creates these characters to give him company, only to discard them once their purpose in his dream has been fulfilled?**

It’s as if his brain is cycling through familiar faces to keep his dream alive, pulling them in and out of existence.

> *But in reality, they don’t exist at all—just figments of his imagination.*

#### **The Legendary Encounters**

Now, let’s talk about Ash’s interactions with legendary Pokémon like Ho-Oh and Mewtwo. Some fans believe these encounters are not just rare, magical events, but symbolic of something darker.

> **These Pokémon represent his mind trying to reach consciousness.**

Take Ho-Oh, for example. After seeing the legendary bird in Episode 1, Ash never truly forgets it. In Japanese folklore, the Ho-Oh is known as a symbol of eternal happiness and rebirth.

> *But what if, in Ash's coma state, it represents his subconscious mind's attempt to wake him from his slumber, offering him a path back to life?*

Each encounter with a legendary Pokémon could be his brain's way of breaking the barrier between dream and reality. But tragically, each time he comes close, something pulls him back into his dream world.

#### **The Villains of His Mind**

The recurring villains in Ash’s life, particularly Team Rocket, may also be projections of his struggle.

> **Jessie, James, and Meowth are not just comic relief; they symbolize the constant obstacles preventing Ash from waking up.**

Their persistence, their refusal to ever truly give up, could be *Ash’s mind fighting against his own reality*.

> *They’re the voices in his head saying, "You’re not done yet. You can't leave this world."*

#### **The Darkest Truth**

The darkest part of this theory is that Ash might *never wake up*.

> **He is forever stuck in a world of his own creation, battling foes, catching Pokémon, and traveling endlessly, without ever reaching his goal.**

What if Ash *has no hope* of ever escaping his dream? The longer he stays asleep, the deeper he falls into this false reality.

> *The Pokémon world may seem vibrant and full of life, but for Ash, it’s nothing more than a mental prison—a beautiful, endless nightmare.*

---

### **Final Thoughts**

Whether you believe the coma theory or not, there's no denying the eerie similarities between Ash’s eternal journey and the signs of a trapped consciousness. **Is it all just a dream?** Perhaps Ash will wake up one day, realizing that his adventures were never real. *Or maybe, just maybe, he's destined to sleep forever, lost in his own imagination.*

***What do you think? Is Ash Ketchum living the dream—or a nightmare from which he’ll never escape?***

---

This theory has haunted fans for years, creating an unsettling layer to the otherwise joyful Pokémon series. If you're a long-time Pokémon fan like me, you can't help but shiver at the thought. Whether it’s true or not, it adds a chilling depth to Ash’s story, turning his eternal quest into a race against time he’ll never win.

> **For more spine-chilling theories and anime spooks, follow FlyingRaijinGuy, where the darkness of your favorite anime worlds is just the beginning.**

#2000s anime #anime blog #anime food #japan #pokemon #ash #pikachu #anime #pokemon theory #dark theories

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anthonybialy · 8 months

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Every Star and No All-Stars

What do you need: a trophy? Actually, that would be nice. But an object indicating supremacy is just something else to dust. True all-stars possess mental awards. Winning a popularity contest is unnecessary. Freaking out about the lack of accolades is for those who either crave sanction or don’t have the stats to impress.

In an ideal world, nobody cares about who a shady panel endorses. But apathy never wins when it should. Getting agitated about snubs is a sign of self-doubt. Save anger for weighty issues that affect the world like officials who don’t know how to define a pass. Oh, and it’d be nice to have universal peace and prosperity or whatever.

The quantity is as questionable as the quality. Fans could probably think of Bills who deserved to prance in this year’s mock competitions, not to mention Bills who were more deserving than those selected. But the purported honor is even more meaningless than the rest of existence. The only thing any competitor who’s truly one of the two or three best deserves is to enjoy vacation.

Competitors added for reasons unrelated to play serve the important purpose of not relying on credentials. Unworthy winners exploit name recognition regardless of faded skills or injury. For an all-time example, Ruben Brown looks like a Hall of Famer for throwing a party that convinced invitees to keep bringing him back. It’s easier than playing at that level.

Truth is absolute regardless of how many believe it. There’s no need for validation. You’ll know. Don’t fret about some snarky Bengals fan on Twitter citing Pro Bowl appearances in making the case of supremacy. An amateur argument based in not watching play is perfect for our times. Results are the only thing to value, and not during simulacrums.

Pin a ribbon to your coat next to your mittens so everyone knows just how special you are. Distinctions are nice to have and also nice to know is unneeded. Anyone who says you’re awesome should be allowed to speak. But you’re already super even if nobody points it out. Those excelling are not searching for lauding. The insecurity of needing acknowledgment is also a reflection of inferiority.

Glaring omissions routinely happen in every sport just like the outrage shouldn’t. Take my BFF point guard Jalen Brunson, who’s accomplished the seemingly impossible task of making the Knicks relevant. Some Knickerbocker backers fume that he only made the All-Star Game as a reserve. But he’s already featured on the back page of Gotham tabloids. Votes don’t count for anything meaningful, which makes it a bit too much like the rest of life. Sports indeed offer life lessons.

Heed lessons in silliness from a process somehow more infuriatingly capricious than naming a league’s top players. The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame is the least rock & roll thing ever, which is just another reason to listen instead of visiting. There’s nothing more subjective than music. There are no statistics other than sales, and by that metric Taylor Swift is the greatest. Science knows that to be the wrongest thought ever conceived.

As for an egregious exclusion, Motörhead still not being inducted is merely the most egregious insult to rock from a venue that purports to celebrate it. Our lord and savior Lemmy will remain just as awesome the day after the historical injustice of his outfit’s exclusion is rectified. The lamest of institutions is inadvertently helpful in demonstrating the eternal shame of not knowing a thing about who rocks.

Play well enough to receive a chance for slacking. Gatherings of the world’s best inside one venue should logically lead to the best games ever. And any Eddie Murphy movie should be hilarious, yet unfortunate viewers have sulked through more of his work than laughed deliriously. Giving a bad name to exhibitions isn’t really a benefit. People who’ve enjoyed an all-star game in any sport are the target audience for timeshare salesmen.

There are rightfully no stakes or way to invent any. Those taking the field for the equivalent of AI football either play to their utmost in the sports we cherish and risk injury or goof around in the skills competition that resembles the sports in the same sense vegans enjoy Portobello mushrooms just as much as porterhouses. Skill competitions aren’t fooling anyone unless pretending to care counts. Baseball’s attempt to make it relevant by granting home-field advantage has thankfully been discarded, unlike the absurdity of getting to hit without fielding.

What did Hawaii do to the NFL? The free trip to paradise would be especially welcome now for a rebuilding island chain. Instead, a heartless league doesn’t even grant obligated attendees a voyage out of the continental United States to the balmy freak state.

The only concern should be games played in the uniform of their employer. Noticing how they fare when standings are affected is infinitely more valuable than the original fantasy roster. Standing around and pretending to compete flaunts what an afterthought the actual event is.

Draftees envy non-all-stars get to catch up on their streaming queues. Diehard followers would much rather their heroes have the time off than a white elephant gift of an appointment. Coerced participation in perspiration-free affairs that make scrimmages seem relatively enthusiastic feature the best at their worst.

Do you know Josh Allen is the best? If so, then that’s the only needed prestige. Wholly uninformed voting blocs pick shady candidates who only impress deluded types like Michael Scott. You don’t need a medal. That’s what she said. It’s as nice to have laurels as it is fine to live without receiving them.

#Josh Allen #Buffalo Bills #Pro Bowl #all-star game #NFL #football #Jalen Brunson

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darielivalyen · 8 months

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"Well then, allow me to introduce myself properly." The cow steps back gracefully and curtsies, a playful twinkle in her eye. "I am known by many names, but you may call me the Holy Cow. Think of me as your fairy auntie, here to offer guidance and a sprinkle of whimsy."

Everbloom is a cozy fantasy game set on the idyllic Everbloom Isle, a place where the charm of a simpler life and the warmth of a close-knit community come together. In this tranquil world, you're invited to slow down, cherish the small moments, and find joy in building connections and creating a space where everyone feels at home.

Your journey centers on the dream of opening a teahouse, an aspiration deeply influenced by your longing for independence and a meaningful life. This dream becomes a reality with the inheritance of your grandmother's house on Everbloom Isle. Here, in a setting far removed from the bustle of city life and your family's expectations, you begin the delicate process of building a new life for yourself.

Are you ready to leave behind the monotony and dullness of daily life and build the teahouse of your dreams on Everbloom Isle?

Play as male, female, or nonbinary.

Choose your appearance and personality.

Romance or befriend one of three distinctive characters: a brave knight seeking a new purpose, a mischievous forest guardian who finds joy in life's lighter moments, or an enigmatic elf with a complex past, seeking solace and clarity on Everbloom Isle.

Create and customize your own teahouse.

Cultivate and enhance your grandmother's garden.

Explore Everbloom Isle in search of unique tea saplings.

Interact with a host of quirky characters, from the whimsical Holy Cow and her not-at-all terrible fish choir to giant turtles, winged wolves, and enigmatic fernlings.

Follow a dynamic quest from the Holy Cow that will challenge you to build friendships, honor your grandmother's legacy, and expand your collection of unique teas.

Sir Castian/Dame Castilla Honeycutt

Personality: brave, honorable, old-fashioned, bashful. Blurb: In a land where swords are replaced by teacups, Cast(), a knight accustomed to battles and quests, struggles to find his/her role. Everbloom Isle, with its whimsical ways, challenges him/her to redefine what it means to be a hero. Can you help him/her weave his/her knightly virtues into the fabric of your new home?

Narciso/Narissa Roseblade

Personality: mischievous, lighthearted, adventurous, non-committal. Blurb: Nar()'s presence on Everbloom Isle is like a breeze through the Elder Tree's leaves – light, unpredictable, and full of life. His/her playful antics and seemingly carefree nature captivate those around him/her. Yet, there's a depth in his/her eyes suggesting more than just whimsy. Will you be the one who figures out what really inspires his/her eternal dance through the grove?

Ideru/Ideri Nightingale

Personality: calculating, composed, solitary, adaptable. Blurb: Ider() arrives at Everbloom Isle cloaked in an aura of intrigue, his/her quiet nature standing in stark contrast to the isle’s vibrancy. Amidst the isle's welcoming community, his/her enigmatic presence stirs a sense of curiosity. Will you be the one who digs into his/her mysterious past and discovers what brings him/her to Everbloom?

PLAY EVERBLOOM | FORUM | TUMBLR

#Everbloom #darielivalyen #interactive fiction #cozy #if #cozy fantasy #new project #interactive novel #synopsis #announcment #choicescript

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leyyvi · 2 years

Note

Leybaby, I know we’re all still high from maid kitty Levi. But Omg it’s officially May and Mermaid Levi will always have a chokehold on me 🫠 thoughts on mermaid levi? Levi being all Ariel-y in love but with his foul mouth, all he is saying is “shit, you’re a brat, but holy fucking poseidon, you are so fucking pretty I wanna have legs so I can walk with you.” Ahhhh i am running laps I love mermaid levi and it’s officially May.

Also, I also wondered what would Mermaid levi look in ley’s adorable art style 🥹😵‍💫

content: Mermaid!Levi x Reader; fluff

wordcount: ~2k

warnings: none

You first saw the merman last summer. On a trip with your close friend Hange in search of "exotic species" in the ocean. which was silly because everything could be considered exotic in these waters.

But what truly embodied that description was a figure who'd occasionally pop their head up on the surface of the water to watch you explore the tide pools in the early mornings. Hange didn't tag along on these particular expeditions, for they were the farthest from being a morning person.

Which was a shame because that's when you found the most interesting creatures in the water.

Though this man never approached you, never came close enough to even see his face. He was merely a shadow in the water, the top of a head peeking shyly at you. There was a point where you might've thought he was merely a figment of your imagination if he didn't speak on the last few days you explored that area of the beach.

You picked up a shell to examine it closely, watching how it shimmered under the early morning sun.

"That's poisonous," a voice spoke out in the shallow water. It's the same figure that's quietly observed you the last few months. Speaking actual words that you can understand.

You blink at him, momentarily entranced by the low baritone in his warning. Then you smile. "No it's not."

His brow furrows as the rest of his head leaves the water to get a closer look at what you're holding. He swims a few inches towards you. You still, allowing him to observe the shell in your palm. It's the closest he's ever gotten to you and--to put it bluntly?

He's beautiful.

His long, blue tail shines just under the surface of the water. The end of his tail, seemingly a translucent set of fins, flicker slightly under your gaze. The ends of his hair stick to his face as he rises up from the water. A tentative hand snakes up to yours, poking the shell.

Your breath can’t leave your lungs in this proximity. He’s so close.

Part of you wonders if it’s safe to be in thigh-high water with this man--creature swimming this close by. What’s to say he hasn’t been watching your behavior for hunting purposes all summer?

“Could you stop gawking? You look like a fish.”

“Funny, coming from someone with gills--” you quickly retort. He huffs, smacking the shell out of your hand with a glare.

“Tell your shitty friend to stop taking things from the water,” is all he says before swimming off, a light splash of his tail reaching your arms.

You stand there, watching his silhouette disappear behind the small swell of a wave.

It was the last time you saw him that summer, no sign of the top of his head, or the flicker of his fins. Merely the few words prompting you to suggest you and Hange find another collection spot for their antics. And the faint memory of him that lingered throughout the rest of the year.

===

Summer approaches after what feels like an eternity. The thought of that unknown sort-of-man fades into a distant memory over the long months. And despite the little inhibitions on venturing out to Hange's distant relative's beachhouse for "extensive research", you tag along anyway.

"I'm tellin' ya! Erwin said mermaids exist and I can't tell if he's messing with me or if they're real. But I'm gonna find out! He said they like to come out during dusk since people don't really go in the water."

"I don't think any would come out if we're in the water right now, though. They might be scared." You glance around, the orange hues ripple across the surface of the water at your ankles. There's been no sign of any "mermaids" or "mermen" alike. "Or they really don't exist."

Hange hums, disappointment evident on their face as they push up their glasses. Though it doesn't last long, their habits for turning any negative situation into a positive allows them to perk up quickly. "We will try again tomorrow!"

You've had your reasons for not telling Hange of your interactions last year. For fear of looking or sounding delusional--but there was also a slight fear of what Hange would try to do to were they to actually see him. Even if he was kind of rude, it wouldn't be fair to subject him to Hange's antics for now.

You don't mention the possibility of trying to look for them in the morning, but you still try to find him yourself.

The first month passes without any sign of him. So you resort to looking for the unique shells you usually hunt for in your free time.

"Didn't I tell you to stop taking things from the water?"

You jump, dropping the handful of shells you were sifting through in your palm and effectively undoing all your hard work. When you turn around, it's him. The same grumpy upper half of his face peeking over the water. The same tone of his voice that could pass off as a lecture for bad behavior-as if he's chastising a child.

"You told me to tell my friend," you defend. His glare hardens. "And I don't take them unless they're broken."

"Why would you take something broken? That's stupid."

"Because an animal might need the unbroken one, duh--hey!"

His tail swishes, causing a small wave to splash your upper half. "That's what you get."

"For what?!"

"Telling your crazy friend about... me. They come out here everyday now."

So he was watching?

"I didn't say anything about you. Another friend suggested the idea--but I think it was a joke."

"A shitty joke."

"I didn't tell them about you," you persist.

"Keep it that way," he snips with a flick of his hair from his face. His silver-blue eyes glance at the rising sun. "I shouldn't even be talking to you. You shouldn't know I exist."

"I won't tell anyone."

The blue lands on you now, narrowing in scrutinization. He says nothing before making a move to leave.

"Wait!"

He stops, but doesn't turn around.

"Could you tell me your name at least?"

Water drips down from the tips of his locks, cascading down his toned shoulders and back into the sea.

"Levi."

And then he's gone again.

It goes on like this for another month. You quietly seek him out under the facade of looking at shells. He observes from afar with a periodic question that's usually followed by a snip of sarcasm. There's not much conversation happening, but he does stare. Much more than you do.

Sometimes Levi will swim around in the deeper parts of the water, his presence only being announced by a quick swish of his tail. He's not too close, but not too far either.

"What do you do with those, anyway?" He asks one day, noting the small pile of broken shells that sit on the rock you've perched yourself on top of. Your feet dangle in the water as you soak up the early morning sun. The water may be cold, but it serves to soothe the already obscenely warm air.

"Put them in a jar. Make necklaces out of them sometimes."

Levi scoffs as he props himself halfway up on the rock a few feet away.

You frown at him. "For someone who holds so much disdain towards people, you sure do come by here often."

Indignant, Levi's tail flickers in consideration of splashing you again. A habit of his when he has nothing better to respond with. "I was here first."

"Do you want me to leave?"

He blinks, jaw clenching with deliberation. "Do what you want."

So you stay. He doesn't leave either.

"You said you shouldn't be talking to me."

"The others say people are dangerous. One of you is."

"I could be dangerous."

"Not as much as Glasses. I've seen that fishing net they drag around with them."

“They’re too loud to catch anything. Scares all the fish away the second they get near the water.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Hey, you missed one.” Levi scoots closer, his pinky brushing against your outer thigh as he reaches to pick out a missed broken shell. Both of you flinch, meet eyes--and then avert away. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind or anything.”

His tail swishes side to side. “You always stare at it,” Levi notes. The water sprawls off the edges of the fins that rise over the surface.

“I don’t mean to.”

“...Do you wanna touch it?”

"You'd let me?"

It swishes closer to your ankles, tickling your skin. You reach down, brushing off the blue-eyed stare that watches with caution, yet hinted with a sort of expectancy.

So slowly, the tips of fingers meet the edges of his shimmering scales. He twitches, but your curiosity serves to persist with the careful strokes. It’s slimy, but not as bad as you assumed. His breath stutters, tail freezes.

"it's pretty," you mumble, watching the iridescent glow from his waist to the end of his fins. When you meet his gaze, he blinks. His cheeks pink as his throat bobs from a nervous swallow. You scoot closer in his direction on the rock, shin bumping into his tail again.

"You can feel mine, too," you suggest. He swallows again, chest rising and falling. It seems he's been curious about your legs too with how he reaches over. His knuckle grazes over the top of your right thigh.

The instinctive shudder causes him to pull back. "Sorry, it tickled."

Levi waits one heartbeat before returning. His finger trails from your knee up to your shorts, experimentally tugging on the material.

"This feels disgusting."

"Well I have to wear it or I'd be naked."

"So? We're naked all the time."

"Even if you have... You know."

His head tilts, brows pinched in genuine confusion. Your face warms. "Um, nevermind."

Another gentle wave rolls through the water, nudging Levi's tail into your shins. His hand dips under the water and skates around your ankles. Your feet wiggle out of reaction.

"Why do you come out here when they tell you not to?"

He hums in thought. "I like to watch those." Levi points upwards into the sky. Clouds. "Can't see them so well at home."

"What's it like? Your home.'

"Dry.'

"Really?"

"Seriously? It was a joke."

"I don't know! Don't laugh!!"

"I have this--" his tail flips against the water surface,"--or did you forget?"

“Fine. Don’t tell me anything interesting.”

“Don’t pout, it’s unbecoming.”

You scoff, kicking water towards him and he pushes off from the rock. He pops under the surface and there’s a split second where you believe he might’ve left. Until his head peeks over the water again. If he were floating further up, then you might've caught the smile at the corners of his lips.

You hang out almost every morning after that. Offering hints of each other’s lives and different perspectives of the world. You tell him how Hange’s still adamant on catching a “mermaid”, and how they’ve traveled miles down the beach from where they originally started.

He tells you how he gets scolded for leaving without telling his family where he’s going. And how over the weeks, the world beyond water might even be a little intriguing despite how troublesome the boats and “obnoxious Glasses” are.

One might’ve thought you two had grown to become acquaintances--friends even. And on the last day it feels almost melancholic knowing you won’t return until next summer. With no way to contact Levi.

“You’re coming back, right?” He asks.

“Yup, next year.” You grin at the question, tilting your head. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“As if I would.”

The splashes of saltwater on each other have become more of a sign of affection rather than annoyance.

“It’s too bad we can’t like... write to each other.”

“You could use a conch shell. Sure you’ve grabbed at least a thousand of ‘em this summer.”

“What--like a cellphone?”

“I’m fucking kidding. You think we’d actually use conch shells to communicate?”

“I don’t know--maybe!!”

A smirk spreads across Levi’s cheeks as his eyes roll. “You better come back next summer.”

He pokes your thigh, just like so many times he’s already done the last couple of months. Small touches, looks, changes of expression. In your time together, you’ve come to the realization he might’ve softened up a bit.

“I will,” you reassure, your palm slipping over the top of his wet hand. “Promise.”

#this has been in my drafts for too long #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #attack on titan #drabbles #is it a drabble if its 2k idk #just a small mermaid Levi blurb #ngl i dont feel good about it but figured ill just share it anyway #BUT I DO HAVE MERMAID LEVI ART #ill finish it after commissions!

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imagines-all-day-everyday · 4 years

Text

Queen Of The Wild (5/6)

Summary: This was it. The final battle. The wolf against the lion. But what side would the stallion choose? And at what cost?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, violence, fluff

Series Masterlist

Clanging of armour and gruff shouts of soldiers filled Robb Stark’s ears, interrupting and stirring him from his surprisingly peaceful slumber. Usually the night before a battle Robb was restless and could barely get a wink of sleep.

But last night was different, and he knew exactly why.

Yawning, he rubbed his eyes as the light from outside crept in through the tent flaps. He became aware of the fur sheets rubbing against his bare chest as he turned lazily on his side to stare at the now vacant space beside him. Despite the impending events, Robb couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his features as memories of last night flashed across his mind.

The feeling of bare skin moving against his and the rustle of sheets caused Robb to stir, rubbing his eyes lazily as his eyes adjusted to the dim light emitted by the candles. He glanced over at the entrance of the tent to confirm that outside was still only lit by moonlight before turning over on his side.

“Mm, where are you off to ‘eh?” He rasped, sliding his arm across the sheet to wrap a hand around *yn*’s slender wrist.

The sound of his voice and the touch of his calloused palm made *yn* turn her head back to Robb. Instead of answering, she simply smiled softly as she leant down and pressed her lips against his.

“Don’t want anyone getting any ideas, do we?” She mumbled against his mouth.

“What sort of ideas would you be referring to eh?” He smirked as he ran a hand down her bare back.

“The idea of the King of the North in bed with a wildling savage, I’m sure your men would love that.” She drawled sarcastically.

“You’re not a savage. You’re a queen.” He reminded her which made a smile twitch up onto her lips.

“I’m both, and your people know that.” She whispered to him calmly.

“I don’t care.” He insisted as he sat up slightly in his bed to emphasise his point. An almost sympathetic smile spread across *yn*’s face as she leant up and caressed his cheek gently as her soft eyes locked with his.

“You should.”

With the imagine of *yn* smiling at him burned into the forefront of his mind, Robb pulled his shirt over his head, as the realisation that he was about to ride into the most important battle of the war hit him square in the chest. He sucked in one last nervous breath and squared his shoulders before pushing open the flap of the tent and into the chaotic mess that was his camp.

His men were swarming around the campsite like a colony of ants, but instead of being organised, they were moving around in a terrified daze with seemingly no sense of purpose or goal in mind. Some were seemingly doing whatever they could to try and take their minds of the impending bloodbath, others were muttering prayers to themselves in a hope that somehow the gods would grant them mercy today. There were a rare few that had a bloodthirsty gleam in their eyes, as if they were itching to join the massacre that was going to ensue, as they sharpened their weapons and stretched out their joints.

Robb could feel all of their eyes on him as he manoeuvred his way through the camp, praying that he could manage to avoid running into one of his advisors or generals. His eyes swept over his men, ensuring that he presented himself to be simply a king ensuring things were under control, where in reality he was desperately searching for one thing in particular.

One person, really.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, Robb reached the break in the trees that revealed the oval shaped dip in the earth’s surface which was currently home to the Vesiros army. From afar, it looked as if the ground was multicoloured and moving due to the thousands of horses that were all corralled together into the small space.

As he made his way down the small hill, he spotted *yn*’s tent and began to make a direct beeline towards it. As he neared it however, his eyes fell on an all too familiar snow white stallion tethered to a tree only a hundred metres or so away from him. And more importantly, an even more familiar figure was standing nearby.

The closer he got to her, the more he realised that she looked quite different. Her usually flowing hair was tightly braided down her back with gold twine entwined through it that shimmered in the light when she moved. Instead of her body being covered by her flowing dresses, she was instead wearing pants and a tunic, yet she still managed to look as enchanting as ever.

*yn* let herself exhale a small breath as she glided her fingers down Eclipse’s neck, letting them swirl in intricate patterns as she watched the bright red war paint contrast with his icy white coat. Eclipse stood patiently, munching on grass nonchalantly as *yn* continued to use his coat as a canvas.

“I’ve never seen a red that vivid before.”

The husky voice caused her heart to skip a beat as she glanced over her shoulder to see Robb Stark standing behind her. If he was shocked by the black warpaint smudged around her eyes, he did an excellent job of hiding it as she turned to face him.

“It’s a tradition when we go to battle, it’s to strike fear in the hearts of our enemies.” She explained, smiling softly at the memory of her father explaining the same thing to her for the first time when she was only five.

“How do you make it?” Robb queried as she held out the small clay bowl for him. “It’s the blood drained from our conquered enemies.” She explained nonchalantly to him as he cautiously dipped two of his fingers into the red liquid.

She resisted the urge to snort as he failed in his attempt to conceal the look of shock that flashed across his features at her words. “Relax, it’s tree sap and red ochre.” She laughed to herself as she continued to trace her fingers along her horse’s neck. “I thought you southerners were supposed to be tougher than that.”

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.” She answered back as she glanced back up at him, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Here, you try.” She continued, holding out for the small pot of paint to him. “I can’t do that, I’ll only ruin your work.” He shook his head which made her smile gently.

“I’ll show you how.” She encouraged as she gently grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to continue on with the pattern she had just begun to create. Robb stayed silently as he watched *yn* carefully guide his hand along her horse’s neck, leaving a red pattern embedded in his coat in it’s wake.

“Are you nervous?” *yn* murmured to him, her eyes fixated on his painting hand as she spoke. “No, I am ready for war, as I am sure war is ready for me.”

“You do not agree with my words?” He spoke again when he noticed her brow furrow ever so slightly in an involuntary response to his words. *yn* silently cursed herself for not being able to hide her emotions better, forcing herself to keep her eyes fixed on Robb’s hand as she continued to aid him.

“*yn*.” He pressed, the urgent yet insecure tone mixed with the use of her name made her heart jump slightly against her rib cage.

“My father used to say only a great fool would march into a battle without fear. Because if you have no fear, it means you are not afraid to die, it means you’ve got nothing to lose. But if you have something to live for, you’ll fight with everything in you to stay alive.”

There was a tense pause as Robb’s hand stilled at her words as he mulled over her words. “I have plenty to live for, I am assuming you do to?” She continued, causing him to glance back at her.

“Aye, I do.”

“Good.” She nodded, placing her hand over his to place the finishing touches on the paint. “Then we will both fight to live.”

“Your Grace.” The voice made the pair pull away from each other, turning around to face a panting servant. “I am sorry to interrupt but the councilmen have advised me that they wish to speak to you at once. It is of great importance.”

“Tell them I am on my way.” Robb nodded. The servant bowed before hurriedly scurrying off in the same direction he had just moments before appeared from.

“I-”

“We will talk later young wolf, go see your men.” *yn* cut him off, sending him a tight lipped smile. There was a brief moment as Robb stared at her, as if he wanted to say something but was wavering. In the end he seemed to decide against it and nodded wordlessly before turning on his heels.

*yn* let out a breath before turning back to her horse. She tuned out the hustle and bustle of the men around her as she steadied her hands to place the delicate finishing touches to Eclipse’s paint.

“I am surprised to see you getting your hands dirty, Your Grace.”

The unfamiliar voice from behind her made *yn* jerk her head around in surprise. Her eyes landed on an older man she recognised as one of the councilmen that had been present at the meetings with Robb.

“Forgive me, I am yet to introduce myself Your Grace, Roose Bolton.” He continued, extending a hand for her to take. She eyed him momentarily before cautiously extending her arm, clasping her hand around his in a firm shake.

“And this is my son, Ramsay Snow.”

Her eyes drifted over Roose’s right shoulder to see a young man, similar in age to her she suspected. He was pale, with black hair that flopped over his forehead, almost shadowing his sunken eyes. A bastard.

“Pleasure.” She spoke, shooting the bastard a tight lipped smile as she stretched out her hand to him.

“The pleasure is mine, Your Grace.” Ramsay answered and *yn* fought the urge to shiver as a chill shot up her spine. She could feel the hairs standing up on the back of her neck as Ramsay’s thin lips curled up into a devilish grin revealing a set of almost pointy canines.

Her instincts were screaming to yank her hand back as his sweaty hand enveloped hers and shook aggressively. She always thought herself to be a quite a good judge of character and she had never been so certain about someone so quickly before. This man was bad news. Very, very bad news.

“Are you well rested and prepared for the battle, Your Grace?” Roose queried as she retraced her hand from Ramsay to place back on Eclipse’s neck.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Are you sure?” Roose spoke, “my men told me they say you wondering around the camp quit late night last night.” He paused for a brief moment, his lips twitching up into a glimpse of a smirk before they fell into a straight line once more. “back from the direction of Robb Stark’s tent.”

She rose a brow at his words, barely believing her ears as she processed what she was hearing. “Yes, we were discussing battle plans.”

“Oh well that is comforting Your Grace, I am most certain that whispers like that would make some friends of ours question where your loyalties lie.”

Roose’s face hardened for a fleeting moment as he spoke, all attempts at faking niceties briefly ceased for that moment in time. It was like his words had just peeled back a mask and *yn* was seeing his true nature for the first time. He was just as terrifying as his son.

Silence dangled tauntingly between the three as *yn* stared at Roose, soaking in his words. There was a glint in his eye as he stared back at her, almost daring her to say what she really wanted to say. Her eyes ghosted over to Ramsay to see that his thin lips had contoured into a smirk.

Tywin had said that men hungry for power were easy to persuade. That he had a Lord on the inside providing him with information. And *yn* knew that she was staring right into the eyes of that very same power hungry man.

“Well, we cannot have that, can we?” She heard herself say, her survival instincts kicking in as she slipped on a mask of her own. “Be sure to tell our friend that he has nothing to worry about, unless he dares question my loyalty again.” She batted her lashes and shot Roose and Ramsay a smirk of her own before moving past them, intentionally brushing her shoulder against Ramsay as she did so.

The smirk dropped from her face the second her back was to them, inhaling sharply as she hurried towards her tent. She came to a stop just outside her tent to clean her hands in a bucket of water. Her mind was racing as she watched the red paint seep into the water, gradually turning it the colour of blood. She glanced over her shoulder to see that Ramsay and Roose were still standing near Eclipse, now in deep conversation. Hatred sparked inside her as she stared at the pair. If there was one thing *yn* truly hated in this world - it was traitors.

Her eyes flickered up at the sound of talking men approaching her. “Erik.” She called out when her eyes fell on one of her lead soldiers.

“Your Grace.” He greets, muttering a goodbye to the soldier before hurrying to her side.

“See those men over there?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” He nodded, following her gaze to the pair.

“Make sure they are not breathing by the time the battle comes to an end. Discreetly, yes?” She murmured, her eyes never leaving the pair as she spoke calmly.

There was a short pause before- “It will be done, Your Grace.”

“And what of our two rogues?” She queried, a pang of sympathy hitting her chest at the thought of Arya tied up and left alone in the corner of some dark tent.

“They are behaving themselves Your Grace... for the most part.” He answered and a small smile appeared on her features briefly. The girl had fight in her, that had been clear to *yn* from the second she had laid eyes on her.

“Good.” She nodded, turning to finally look at him. “You have gone above and beyond for me Erik, I feel that merely thanking you would be a disservice to you.”

A small blush formed on Erik’s face at her words as he shook his head fervently. “Y-your Grace that is not necessary, it is an honour to serve you I-”

“Nonsense.” She shook her head dismissively. “If we survive this battle I intend to make you one of my senior advisors when we return home.”

Erik’s chest swelled with pride and his eyes grew glassy at her words, his mouth falling open in shock as he tried to process the information he had just received. “Y-your Grace I do not know how to thank you-”

“You can thank me after we survive this battle.” She answered softly, placing a hand on his forearm. “Now, go ensure the others are ready. And if you see Mikel tell him that I need his assistance in getting my armour on.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

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

The clanging of swords and armour were growing louder from outside *yn*’s tent as the battle edged closer. She took a deep breath as she attempted to calm her nerves. She studied herself in the mirror, running a hand over her braided hair that was tied into a plait down her back. Her fingers skimmed the heavy armour that now encased her body. Her hand paused once she reached the breast plate.

Her finger glided over the small rearing stallion that was engraved in the centre of the metal. Her family sigil. “This is for you.” She whispered to herself, images of her parents and her brother flashing before her eyes. *yn* blinked away the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks before turning away from the mirror and making her way outside.

Luna sat dutifully outside her tent, immediately rising up to walk by her side once she entered into the sunlight. She ran a hand through Luna’s soft fur as she began moving her way through the encampment. Most soldiers were too busy tacking up their horses to notice her, but the ones that did paused what they were doing and bowed before her.

She shot them small smiles as she weaved through them, slowly edging closer to Robb Stark’s tent. She came to a sudden stop when her eyes fell on the young wolf himself. He was speaking to an advisor, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to whatever the man was saying.

Her heart thumped in her chest as images of last night flashed before her eyes. Those same brows furrowing in concentration as he looked down at her, watching her face contort in pleasure while the two joined as one. The very same calloused hands that were stroking his beard were only hours ago wrapped around her throat and threaded through hair.

Just as quickly as those thoughts entered her head did they vanish when Robb turned his back to her and made his way inside his tent. It felt like her body had a string tied to Robb as her feet began moving towards him. She followed in his footsteps, pausing outside his tent briefly to inhale a breath before pushing the flap open.

Her eyes travelled to the mirror in the corner of the tent to see that Robb was standing in front of it. His breastplate was hanging loosely over his chest, his fingers paused from fixing his armour as their eyes locked in the mirror.

“Let me.” *yn* murmured, breaking their eye contact as she slipped inside the tent.

Robb stayed silent as he watched her intently through the mirror. *yn* swallowed as she came to a stop beside him. Robb tilted his head to look down at her as her nimble fingers made quick work of his armour.

“For a Queen, you’re surprisingly good at this.” He remarked which caused a small smile to form on *yn*’s lips.

“Our people believe the Gods bring us good fortune when we prepare ourselves for battle, so I’ve had lots of practice.” She answered as she moved around to his other arm.

The pair fell back into silence as *yn* continued working until she was standing in front of him to fasten his chest plate. “You know, you look just as enchanting in your armour as you did when I first met you.” Robb murmured, his voice so quiet that *yn* wasn’t entirely sure if he had meant to utter it out loud.

*yn* felt a small blush creep onto her cheeks at his words. Her eyes darted up to his face to see that he was staring down at her intently. “Thank you.” She hoarsely whispered as she dragged her eyes down from his face to his chest to fasten the final buckle.

“*yn*, if we do not survive this-”

“We will.” *yn* cut him off, sending him a firm look. “I know we will.”

“-but if we do not.” Robb continued, shooting her an imploring look. “I want you to know that it was an honour to fight alongside you.”

His words made her stomach flutter as she flattened her palms over his chest, looking up at him through her lashes. Wordlessly she rose up onto her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around his neck before pressing her lips against his. Robb reacted instantly, snaking his arms around her waist to pull her closer to him.

*yn* felt a breath catch in her throat as electricity coursed through her body. She found herself wishing that there was no armour between them so that she could feel the heat of his body pressed against her own skin as they kissed. A moan nearly escaped her lips as Robb shifted his head to deepen the kiss. Even though the pair had only spoken briefly, she knew that this kiss was saying everything that they had not said.

They both knew that this might be the last time they ever touch one another again.

Finally the pair reluctantly broke free from each other, both breathing a little heavier than normal as their foreheads pressed against each other.

“Fight well, young wolf.”

“Fight well, Lady Blackburn.”

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

“Steady.” *yn* muttered, tugging on her reins lightly as Eclipse tossed his head and pawed at the ground nervously.

“They’re all getting nervous.” Cassius remarked from beside her, on top of his own horse who was beginning to dance on the spot in agitation.

*yn* hummed to Cassius in agreement. She could hear the sound of thousands of hooves fidgeting and stomping on the ground behind her. She could also hear the sound of prayers being nervously muttered under the breathes of her men. Cassius was not just talking about the horses.

She felt a pang of guilt at the thought of all the men that would not get to return home. That would spend their last moments on this earth on the field below them. The deal that Tywin Lannister had offered her flashed before her mind. She could do it. She had time to change her mind. She could save hundreds if not thousands of lives of her people today.

But as quickly as she pondered that option did she dismiss it. Tywin Lannister was a liar, a manipulative narcissist who would do and say anything to get his way. She had a sinking feeling that he would have already thought about the fact that she may betray him.

*yn* glanced down the hill that her army was positioned on top of. From this spot they practically had a birds eye view of the sprawling valley that seemed to stretch on for thousands of miles. Robb had been wise to pick this spot for battle. The Lannister army would only have one spot to enter in through and that spot was a narrow ridgeway. They would be funnelled into the valley, giving Robb’s army plenty of time to pick them off as they came into view.

*yn*’s eyes scanned over the grass, mentally trying to envision the battle taking place. Once the Lannister army was fully inside the valley, the Vesiros army would come out of hiding. They could come bursting out from the top of the hill, covering the only exit, leaving the Lannister men trapped. Like leading lambs to a slaughter.

“*yn* I-” Cassius began. “I need to tell you something.” She could hear Cassius say from beside her as her eyes scanned the field. The grip on her reins tightened as Robb came into view. He was so far away that he was barely recognisable, but *yn* knew that it was him. The sound of a throat being cleared beside her made *yn* jerk her head up, remembering that Cassius was there.

“Yes Cass?”

Cassius opened his mouth to speak but promptly shut it as he studied his best friends features. Her eyes were distant, her mind clearly occupied by something else as she waited impatiently for his answer. Occupied by someone else.

“I-” He began. I love you, is what he wanted to say. But he knew in that moment that her heart belonged to another. That she would never love him the way that he so obviously loved you.

“It’s been an honour to fight beside you, Your Grace.”

His words made *yn*’s heart warm and tears to prick at her eyes. Cassius had been her friend for as long as she could remember. He was like a second brother that she had never had.

“We are going to survive this, Case. I know it.” She affirmed, leaning over to take his hand. “You are truly the greatest friend I will ever have in this lifetime.” She spoke honestly, squeezing his hand tightly.

Friend.

Cassius forced a smile onto his lips as he squeezed her hand back. “You too, *yn*.”

The sound of a battle horn being blown made *yn* look away from him. *yn* felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck as the sound of marching feet and hooves crept into her ears. Luna let out a growl beside her as Eclipse let out a small whinny and began to prance on the spot.

“Shhh.” *yn* soothed as she leant down and ran her hands through Luna’s thick fur. Despite her calming actions, she could feel her stomach begin to churn as the thumping sound grew louder now mixed with the shouts of men.

“It’s still not too late to change your mind.” Cassius spoke.

*yn* shook her head adamantly. Her gut was screaming at her that this was the right thing to do. That even if she took Tywin’s dead, she would still wind up dead.

“Cassius.” She spoke, her eyes never leaving the landscape in front of her as her eyes ghosted back to the entry point to see men beginning to spill through it.

“When we charge, I only want half of us to go down to begin. When I signal I want you to lead the rest of our men down.” She instructed, finally dragging her eyes away from the valley to lock eyes with him.

“Of course, Your Grace.” He nodded. He could see in her face that in this moment she was no longer speaking to him as a friend, she was speaking to him as the Queen of Vesiros.

Another loud battle horn echoed through the valley and *yn* could see that Robb’s army was edging out towards the centre of the field. *yn* swore all she did was blink and now both lion and wolf banners were visible before her. She felt a breath lodge in her throat as a sickening silence seemed to encase the armies for a brief moment. Both standing still, as if they were waiting to see what the other would do, until-

“Charge!” Someone screamed. And then the air was engulfed with screams and shouts of men charged with fear, anger and adrenaline as both armies sprung to life.

“Hold.” *yn* ordered, holding an arm up as the horses behind her began to take a few steps forward. Instinctively she felt her sides, ensuring both her swords were there and then her back to confirm that her bow and arrow were securely fixed behind her.

“Hold.” She repeated as the first clash of metal on metal rung out. The screams and shouts grew louder as the armies collided with a sickening thud. *yn* lost sight of Robb as men swarmed all over each other, just like frenzied ants, as weapons found their homes in flesh and bone.

“Hold.” She breathed out, her voice waveringly slightly as she straightened up in her saddle.

She knew that she was taking longer than agreed on by Robb, but she wanted to be sure that every single last Lannister army member was in her sight. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, her body tingling with what felt like excitement as she wound the reins around her wrist.

She rose a hand up, stretching it up to try and reach the Gods.

“Now.” She ordered, dropping her arm down to her side as she squeezed her legs against Eclipse’s belly.

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

“It seemed you were right about the wildling girl father.”

“Of course I was.” Tywin answered, a egotistical smirk on his lips as he watched the battle taking place before him.

“Without her forces, this battle should be over relatively quickly.” Jaime remarked. The pair were mounted on their horses, standing in some shrubbery to conceal themselves and the rest of their army from the rest of the battle.

“Yes, it will.” Tywin answered as his eyes flickered up to the hill in front of them. Although he could not see her, he knew that *yn* Blackburn and her army were up there.

“Once we have defeated the wolf pup we will take the Vesiros army. Once they surrender we will kill the wildling girl. She is the last Blackburn alive, she has no heir. We will be able to claim Vesiros as our own and all the resources that comes with them.”

Jaime said nothing as he studied his father’s profile, noting the power lust and greed that was brimming in his eyes. Before Jaime could open his mouth to reply a loud war horn suddenly rung out.

“No.” Tywin whispered under his breath, his fists balling around his reins.

“Charge!” A male voice screamed out. The shouts and cheers of men filled his ears as a white stallion emerged at the crest of the hill and galloped down towards the chaos. The loud war horn of Vesiros blasted once more through the air as the sound of thousands of hooves pounding the grass filled Tywin’s ears.

His eyes fell on the familiar white stallion that was leading the charge as thousands of soldiers streamed down the hill. It was Queen Blackburn. She was on the frontline, leading her men into battle. He watched as she pulled out her sword and led her men down the hill and behind the Lannister army, effectively sandwiching them in between the Vesiros and the Stark armies. The men at the back barely had time to act surprised as the Vesiros army descended upon them, cutting them down with ease on top of their horses. A flash of brown fur was darting around, leaping up and taking men from their horses - a dire wolf.

“It’s fine, we prepared for this.” Tywin spoke calmly, turning around in his saddle to Jaime.

“Go. Leave no survivors.” He ordered.

“Of course father.”

With a nod Jaime drew his sword and let out a shout and galloped off. Tywin watched with bated breath as the concealed Lannister army burst out of the tree line towards the Vesiros army. They encircled the men, causing them to be surrounded on all sides.

He watched with bated breath as they began to advance, squishing the Vesiros army into a small circle as they attacked. Tywin could barely make out *yn*’s men as his own men began to attack her on all sides. A shrill whistle sounded out from the middle of the field and all Tywin could see was a hand protruding out into the air, waving a red scrap of material.

A few seconds later another war horn bellowed out, but this time it sounded like it was coming from the top of the hill.

“No. It cannot be.” Tywin whispered to himself.

“For Vesiros!” Voices shouted out in the distance. Tywin watched on in horror as even more soldiers appeared at the top of the hill before they billowed out, racing towards the battle at a rapid pace.

Sure enough, they formed a semi-circle, just as Tywin’s men had done. Now it was Tywin’s men that were again trapped in-between the enemy’s forces. It only took one glance at the carnage unfolding in front of him for Tywin to know that they were now vastly outnumbered.

It was going to be a slaughter.

Tywin had spent his life playing the game of thrones, and now he was going to lose to a wildling savage.

A female wildling savage.

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

*yn* let out a grunt as she brought her sword down, embedding it into the chest of a Lannister soldier before swiftly pulling it out. The battle was very quickly turning into a slaughter as her and Robb’s men overpowered the Lannister army.

It would only be a matter of time until they surrendered.

Whilst at the beginning there was a clear divide between her men and Robb’s men, they were now entangled together, fighting alongside one another to kill the men with lion emblems embroidered on their clothes.

“Your Grace!” She swivelled around in her saddle to see Erik a few metres from her, his horse was no where to be seen. “It is done.” He called out. She flickered her gaze down to his feet and felt a sense of satisfaction swell through her at the sight of Roose Bolton’s body lying lifeless before him. He sent her a nod of understanding before turning his attention back to the enemy in front of him.

Her eyes scanned the battlefield before turning her attention to the trees that skirted the valley. “There you are.” She murmured under her breath when her eyes fell on a retreating Ramsay Bolton.

He was scrambling, falling over dead bodies as he made a beeline for the forest. She was not sure if he knew his father was dead, it was unlikely. It was more likely that he was a coward and simply wanted to avoid the combat.

She dropped her reins to rest on her saddle as Eclipse came to a stand still. Her hands found their way to her bow and arrow and she swiftly nocked an arrow. She inhaled a breath and steadied her hand, closing one eye as she aimed the arrow at Ramsay’s back.

Without a second thought, she allowed the string to slip through her fingers, sending the arrow flying through the air. A small smirk twitched up on her lips as she watched the arrow find its target, embedding itself into his back and right through his heart.

A perfect shot.

She knew that he would be dead before he hit the ground, nevertheless she paused for a few moments and watched how he sunk to his knees, wavering for a few seconds before his body collapsed in a lifeless heap to the ground.

A shrill horn made her yank her gaze away from Ramsay. She scanned the entirety of the valley before her eyes finally located the source of the sound. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as her lips spread out into a toothy grin.

A white flag.

And just like that, it was all over. Cries and shouts of victory echoed through the valley that was now running red with spilled blood.

The battle had been won by the wolf and the stallion.

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

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Do you need any aid? Are you injured?”

“No but thank you, Your Grace.”

“Thank you for your service and your loyalty.”

*yn* must have repeated those words and received the same responses over a hundred times as she gradually wove her way through the surviving soldiers.*yn* was relieved to see that there did not appear to be too many Vesiros casualties, men or horses. Healers and servants dodged and weaved around her as they scurried to attend to the wounded. Some were already beginning the macabre task of collecting the dead and mortally wounded.

Vesiros would have a mass funeral to honour those who had fell.

“Cassius!” Her best friends name slipped past her lips when she spied his figure slumped against a wagon. She rushed to his side, sinking to her knees to examine him. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt.” She breathed out when she spied the red stain on the front of his shirt that was slowly growing in size.

“’m fine, just a flesh wound.” Cassius replied, a small smirk twitching up on his lips at the sound of the curse leaving her lips. “No need to- fuck -” He winced as he pushed himself up. “-to worry about me.”

“Healer! We need a healer!” *yn* called out, ignoring his dismissiveness as she glanced over her shoulder.

“I’m coming!” A soft voice called out. *yn* quickly moved out of the way as a petite figure concealed in a heavy cloak hurried towards them.

“Lift your shirt Cas.” *yn* ordered.

“I said I am fine- fuck!” Cassius exclaimed as *yn* tugged his shirt up and the healer pressed her hand against the wound to examine it.

“Hmm yes, totally fine.” The healer mused as they tugged back their hood.

Cassius opened his mouth to snap back at the healer but stopped when his eyes fell on the woman in front of him. She was beautiful, with tanned skin and dark hair and beautiful brown eyes framed by thick lashes.

“H-hi.” He stammered out. “I’m Cassius.”

A look of amusement flashed across the healer’s features. “I’m Talisa.” She introduced herself, sending him a warm smile. “Now be quiet and let me help you.”

*yn* stifled a chuckle as she watched Cassius promptly latch his jaw shut, his eyes never leaving Talisa’s face as she promptly opened her medicine bag. “I change my mind.” *yn* murmured as she rose to her feet.

“I think you will be just fine Cassius.” She grinned, shooting him an amused look before turning on her heel to continue checking up on her men.

She didn’t get far before Luna appeared before her, tail in-between her legs and a low whine coming from the back of her throat. “Luna? What’s wrong?” *yn* asked, her brow furrowing as she watched her dire wolf pace in front of her nervously.

At the sound of her voice Luna swivelled around and began moving off in the opposite direction. *yn* quickly hurried after her, a pit of worry forming in her stomach. What if Robb was hurt? Or worse?

After a few minutes, Luna disappeared around a cluster of men. As *yn* circled around them, her eyes fell on an unmoving grey lump lying on the ground a few metres ahead of her.

Luna let out another whine as she came to a stop in front of the object and nudged it with her nose. *yn* felt her heart sink as she grew even closer and the lump began to morph into a recognisable shape.

“Grey Wind.” *yn* breathed out as she came to a stop in front of the dire wolf. She crouched down over the body, noting his now glassy eyes and the dagger protruding from his chest.

“Oh Luna.” *yn* mumbled, patting Luna sympathetically as she ran a hand over Grey Wind’s fur.

“He died swiftly.”

*yn*’s head jerked up, her heart rate increasing when her eyes fell on Robb Stark. “I am so sorry, Robb.” She spoke, rising back up to her full height.

“He died protecting me.” Robb answered, his eyes growing glossy as he glanced down at his dire wolf.

“Is it selfish to say that I am glad he did?” *yn* murmured. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to squeeze him tightly and tell him everything was going to be ok. But she couldn’t. There were Stark and Vesiros men all around them, swarming around them like bees, watching there every move.

A tight lipped smile emerged onto Robb’s lips as he dragged his gaze up to her face. “No.”

There was a pause as the pair eyed each other, both having so much that they wanted to say but neither had the energy to express it.

“We won.” She breathed out.

“Aye, we did.” He answered. “And I have some prisoners I think you would love to have a chat with.” With those words, he took a step to the side. *yn* followed his gaze to see Jaime and Tywin Lannister chained up and being shoved into a moveable cell.

Finally, she could avenge Leo.

Her arm suddenly lurched forward, grabbing Robb’s forearm as a thought suddenly entered into her mind. “Robb.”

“Aye? What’s the matter?”

A smile tugged up onto her lips, “I have something to show you back at camp.”

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

“I just cannot believe you got my sister back.”

*yn* smiled to herself as the pair strolled through the dark woods. “How did you even know it was her?”

Her eyes wafted over to the camp, watching with sparkling eyes as Arya and Gendry sat by the fire. They were stuffing their faces with meat and chatted animately, laughing every now and then.

When they finally made their way back to the main camp, Erik had gone and fetched Arya and Gendry from the tent that they had been held in. *yn* knew that she would be replaying the moment Robb and Arya saw one another for the first time in her mind until the day she died.

She could feel herself tearing up once more just at the thought of it. The bond that the two siblings shared was undeniable as they ran into each others arms, both crying silently as they held each other and mumbled loving words into each others ears.

It had taken a while for both of them to calm down enough for *yn* to approach the pair. She could see the apprehension in Arya’s eyes but it was quick to fade when it clicked that *yn* had risked being exposed in front of Tywin to get her back to Robb.

A few tears had slid down her cheeks when Arya had embraced her, murmuring thank yous into her dress. If anything it reminded *yn* of Leo and how she had no family left on this earth. She was the last Blackburn left.

“I do not know.” *yn* admitted as they came to a stop, breaking out of her thoughts as she looked up at him. “I had a feeling, but when I saw how she looked at me when she thought I was betraying you. I just knew. I knew she was a Stark.”

“You are absolutely extraordinary. Equally as breathtaking on the battlefield and off it.” Robb smiled softly, staring at her in awe as he brought a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Robb, are you not worried our men will see?” *yn* whispered, eyes darting over to the camp before looking back up at him.

“I do not care what they think.” He answered and *yn* felt her eyes fluttering closed as he traced his gloved hand over her bottom lip.

“You should.” She replied, her eyes springing open as she once again looked over at the camp. It was bustling with soldiers, buzzing with their laughter and chatter as they drank in celebration of their victory. Stark and Vesiros men were all mixed together, laughing and chatting away. They were all too high on alcohol and the relief of being alive to care about where they had come from.

But *yn* knew that would not last. Once the excitement of winning the battle had died down, they would turn on each other. Fighting over being southerner scum or wild savages. Fighting over having a female leading their kingdom, just as the two soldiers had done when she had first arrived here.

“They will not like this.” *yn* continued as she finally found the strength to gently push Robb’s hand away. “Us.”

“I do not care if they do not like it. I do not care about politics or kings or wars or mind games. I care about my family and I care about you.” He paused as he placed his hands on her waist to bring her closer.

“I do not want it to take another war for me to confess this. *yn* Blackburn, I love you.”

“R-Robb I-” *yn* felt like the wind had been knocked out of her at his words. She looked up at him, the desperation evident on his face as he waited for an answer. Her Queen brain was screaming at her to stop this, to pull away and to tell him that this would never work. But her heart was screaming just as loudly, begging her to finally listen to it to once. That she deserved to be happy. Her father, mother and brother’s faces flashed in front of her mind and she thought about how she would give anything to be able to tell them how much she loved them one more time.

“I love you too.”

A grin spread across Robb’s face and he let out a small chuckle of relief. “Thank fuck.” He breathed out before leaning down and hastily pressing his lips against hers.

"We will figure this out my love.”

*yn* smiled against his lips as he reconnected them once more, tightening his grip on her hips as he pulled her even closer to his body. As his beard grazed against her smooth skin *yn* swore she felt almost delirious with happiness.

But she could not escape that niggling feeling stemming from her Queen brain. They both ruled opposing kingdoms, kingdoms that were supposed to hate each other. As well as that, the white walkers were edging closer and closer every single day.

How were they supposed to be together when they had the entire world against them?

However all thoughts and worries faded away as Robb deepened their kiss and brought a hand up to caress her face gently. She was kissing the man that she loved who loved her back.

Maybe they could figure this out, together.

Part 6

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

I miss Robb so much gah <3 I hope you guys loved this series :))) I kinda want to do an epilogue?!?! let me know xx As always feedback is appreciated!!!! Please give it back here xx

#robb stark #robb #robb stark imagine #robb stark imagines #robb stark oneshot #robb stark one shot #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones one shot #game of thrones imagines #got #got imagine #got oneshot #got one shot #robb stark x reader #reader x robb stark #robb x reader #reader x robb

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ateezinmymind · 3 years

Text

Midnight Avail

fallen angel(grigori)! Jongho x reader

smut

warning: dark themes, fem! reader, oral (both male and female receiving), slapping, choking, slight manhandling?, unprotected sex, breeding, corruption?, degrading, foul language, stalking?

for @barnesbabee ,, thank you for your request 🖤 I hope it’s ok sorry it took me a billion ga zillion years ... i’m a clown

word count: 3.6k

tag list: @yunhobabygurl @bobateastay @multidreams-and-desires

the sound of cracking thunder rumbled through the clouded city sky as you made your way home. you were hoping to get into the warmth of a building before it started to rain, so you briskly walked your ways.

past the closing shops, the working public leaving for the day, the streets filled with mindless souls. everything was the same. every day. coming home from work, right as the whole world gets off theirs and to their home. it seemed as if your life was on repeat

but today. it was different

today felt off, not only because it was a particularly bad day at work- having customers argue and such, but because of the weird eerie feeling. the feeling that is like something was right over your shoulder watching you, and that hides every time you turn your head to the side or even turn around.

the first time you felt it was right when you got off your break from work. switching the light off in the room you were leaving, something had unsettled you. it was like a strong force was trying to pull you away from the light of the day. and looking back felt so tempting to do yet at the same time scary, it had to just be a superstition you quipped. (right?)

instead- when you quickly left the dark room with the door shut behind, the dark presence in the form of a shadowy man now left alone…was even more intrigued

by the second time you were convinced someone was playing a trick on you. maybe a coworker, client- anyone. someone was following you- and they weren’t being very sneaky about it either. every time you’d walk, footsteps would be heard behind you- and every time you snap your head around it’d be gone. with just a looming aura- and when the fourth time came around of the steps, you began turning quick and trying to catch a glimpse at this seemingly pretentious being.. and finally you saw something

it would have seemed to be a black ankle boot just turning the corner- and when you bolted after it, there was nothing.

nothing but your beating heart and ultimate confusion

what was it about you that affected jongho so much? was it your human body, ready for his offspring? or was it because it was yet another soul to corrupt?

it wasn’t that you were all that innocent, no. but it was how you reacted to his schemes. yes. how your face showed pure uncertainty and a hint of fear when he started playing with you at last. jongho had been waiting to start getting your attention after a couple weeks now, and he wished he had started playing with you sooner. you were so cute to toy with… getting you all excited and then disappearing

it was like you had summoned him, so he could watch over you- and basically be the one to have a say in what you do.

jongho meant for you to see him a little as he turned the corner, it was all apart of his unfolding plan to finally get you.

to finally get you to break.

it was in his instincts to watch over human females- looking for the ones who were ready. the ones worth mating

and jongho would give them exactly that, but with a twist the poor humans didn’t know. he’d give them a child whom destroys their world subtly and would help him spread the eternal fire of punishment. creating havoc with the human race- eventually his heartfelt mission would be complete, and he could move on to watch over others. continuing to spread his work

did jongho ever feel bad about it? no. not really- he lived it to the fullest. he fell from the skies for a reason, and became this dark being for a soul purpose to search and invade. corrupting the poor world of loss.

really you weren’t anything different in regular terms he’d say. yet something inside jongho told him differently- told him that you were the one that he needed. his own little play thing

watching you cross the sidewalk, down towards the alleyway before your apartment- jongho thought it’d be another good time to come at you.

maybe you heard him, or maybe he meant to be out in the open- but when you sped up your steps, jongho grew an unexpected wide smile across his face.

you were fun

sliding yourself into the section between buildings, dark and cold- you felt like prey.. but not even sure if something was really chasing after you. it was all so unsettling to the point where you made it into your apartment and immediately locked yourself in the bathroom.

you didn’t want to believe what your racing mind was thinking and worrying about- so you only focused on the sounds coming from yourself and the ticking of the clock. your ragged breathing soothing, the clicks of the turning time just outside the room weren’t so intrusive any longer. you didn’t even realize how long it took for you to calm down.

the night seemed to fall back into its usual pace, where you now start your shower and rinse the day away.

but how you seemed to try and forget the little games jongho had been playing on you- he couldn’t help but start to grow a little upset.

were you really that stupid to think it was just your imagination? that your mind was causing the thrill and panic to rise in you?

so all he did and really could do was watch. just a little longer at least. as long as you took in the steamy water, he would wait. and you wouldn’t have a say.

you were going to be his by morning

hand holding your towel in place just above your breasts, droplets of water falling off your body- jongho licked his lips at the sight. how your wet skin looked so plump and flush from your warm shower, and oh how he wanted to take it.

but you were oblivious. thoughtlessly looking through your drawers for undergarments. too distracted to even turn around and become face to face with the dark looming man in the corner of the room watching your every move.

jongho thought you were interesting, having no idea. you were really thinking you’d be needing panties for tonight?

and when you remembered to grab lotion, quickly strutting back into the bathroom- jongho thought that when you came back you’d definitely notice him. but he was wrong, you had come back sure enough. but instead of catching eyes with him, you dropped your towel in front of his peeking eyes and rubbed the moisturizing cream on your delicate legs and up all over your body.

the whole sight of it, jongho felt his lust buzz with need- his black pants tightening with every swelling twitch of his cock. his eyes never left your body, until your rubbing hands over your chest stopped suddenly

jongho looked up and saw the beautiful horror on your face.

and he remembered.. how this was his favorite part- when the screams came.

bloody screeching erupted from your throat as you took in sight the black dressed man in your room. wearing the most evil and sinister smile across his face.

so much panic and shock- your naked flesh, exposed to this strange creep, the heat of your hot shower water now coming back ten times as strong. the blazing wave rushing through your body- your vision blurs and the next thing you know is the black tunnel closing your sight.

left in darkness, crying for help

and when you woke, your room that was once brightly radiated with your lamps- was now dimly lit with candles. the air warm yet gusty, and just the faintest sound of breathing. whether it was coming from you or something else, you hadn’t a clue.

jongho watched you from the door frame, your body sitting in your vanity chair turned away from its mirror. you were stunning, and he couldn’t wait to impregnate you- especially when he’d have you begging for it. like his many times before- staring at you, his cock erect and alive, being palmed through his pants- jongho was now ready to mate.

he had already seduced you, but like a game it had no effect when you couldn’t see his face.

you were clueless though, thinking he was just a man that had been lurking for you. but leaning forward in the chair stressed and bringing your hand to cup your face, the clacking of shoes peaked your hearing. so whipping your head up to see its cause, you no longer saw the old horrific dark mattered man, but the resemblance of a king.

no longer was fear rushing through your veins, or nervousness tearing away your insides. you recognized this deathly handsome face. but from what?

where did he-

“i’ve been watching you~” jongho voice traveled lowly, “i couldn’t help myself when you are just so dashing”

his choice of words sent an unexpected blush to fill your cheeks, maybe it was also from the difference in apparel between the two of you. bare nude to a fully clothed

then all of the sudden, you remembered where you met his face before- about a week ago in the club.

you spent the night trying to forget about your sad self, drinking and drinking, dancing to the beat. grinding up on bodies, and almost getting what you’ve been wanting to have again- sex. you didn’t have a care that night, you’ve been waiting too long and with the men you’d been rubbing- any of them could take you

the guy you wanted it from that night, was now here in your room staring at your naked body a week later. the memories of the past events coming back to you-

what had he said his name was, “jongho?” you ask breathily

your hands bringing themselves up to cover your breasts immediately get stopped by him with a sharp, “don’t”

his tone lowered even more, and sounded a bit more forceful, “do not cover yourself from me.”

looking into his eyes, the darkness consuming you and erupting a feeling of lust to once again enter your needy and craved body.

was he finally going to give you what you wanted? he had left you hanging that night in the club bathroom, wet and horny. which angered you to the thought and had you run your mouth, “you! you left!”

hearing him scoff, no longer did embarrassment consume your emotions and actions- standing up strong and carefree of what you were (weren’t) wearing, pointing a finger at jongho’s chest- you poke him back.

“what the fuck are you doing here, when you obviously didn’t want me before?!”

your continuous yapping in his face was annoying and he couldn’t have it any more. so he stopped you, by slapping you across the face.

how ungrateful of you. not even giving him a chance to talk and tell you how things were going to go down. and when you shrieked out with surprise and little pain, gasping out in shock from his outburst. all jongho could do was smirk.

good girl

“shut up” he barks out, giving a harsh push to your shoulders, making you topple back onto your bed and scramble back to the headboard. “you have no idea what you’ve got yourself into little bitch”

his fierce face and venom spat words as terrifying as it was- made something inside you churn for the better, and your nether regions to spark awake. and jongho must’ve noticed the way your thighs slightly pressed together, your intentions to get friction- but ending up covering your heat from his watch.

to jongho that just earned you another slap- this time to your thighs. your yelp sent him in a frenzy as he hurriedly crawled himself closer to you on the bed. eyes boring into the glistening wetness of your pussy folds, jongho’s hands holding your thighs apart.

“stay.” his demand, strong yet pleading, made you comply.

the longer he looked, examining and hungering over your cunt- made your arousal pool even more. it was embarrassing. the man who left you at the shitty club, because he supposedly needed to go somewhere- now lusting over the view of your intimate parts. why was it you wanted him so badly? something about him held so much power, and it made an involuntary whine to slip past your mouth.

jongho’s gaze darted immediately to yours, his tongue coming out to wet his lips, your eyes wide and mouth open. breath becoming labored. you couldn’t take it anymore.

“p-please..”

his gripping hands sliding off your thighs, and coming to comb back his black and sleek hair, jongho lets out a low chuckle from your dazed expression, “please what?”

gulping down your last bit of insanity, you move yourself forward and sit down on your knees in front of his body. “do something.. anything!”

already you were getting closer and closer to becoming a total slut over him, and jongho knew it. getting himself back standing on the floor, he rids himself of his black blazer then his black shirt- all while looking right into your orbs. the little noise you made when his upper half clothes fell to the floor, made jongho groan out. your sounds sending his dick into pulsing fit, he needed to release- jongho’s member was uncomfortable and rock hard.

your kneeling frame, hands on your bare thighs as you watched him with such curiosity and interest, made him want to have his time with you.

reaching out and grabbing the back of your neck, a little hitch of your breath coming out as jongho forced you down. now laying on your stomach, groans from seeing you closer to his tented pants, he fisted your hair and pulled your head up off the mattress, “get on your back”

flipping yourself onto your backside, jongho grabbed your arms and jerked you to the edge of the bed. your panting and flushed cheeks deserved another slap to your face for being too beautiful and obedient.

and because you weren’t stopping him, jongho knew you could handle it. your face upside down, mouth just under his confined dick- that when he unzipped his pants and slid them off, along with his boots and boxers. jongho’s dick sprung free and stood tall, leaking with pre cum- so much that some of it dripped off his tip and onto your red cheek as he gave it a pump with his hand.

“be a good slut and suck my cock-“ his sentence shot excitement throughout your body, for you’ve never been called such vulgar thing before.

“s-slut?” you breath out in question

and as your lips part for your panting, jongho angles his member down and into your wet hot mouth.

the rushed feeling from your tongue quickly making use and running along his shaft, jongho throws his head back with a low grunt. and soon you follow with a muffled moan, tasting his essence and squeezing your thighs together.

“ngh~ yes” jongho growls out, bringing his hands to each side of your face and thrusting into your mouth. feeling and hearing you gag and choke around his length- the tightness of your throat and your legs shifting, all made his orgasm steadily build up.

hips continuously working into your slippery throat, convulsing tightly, each cry of yours vibrating his pulsing cock- jongho had to pull out

member covered in your spit, you gasp for much needed air, and watch as jongho rubs himself over your face. wiping your saliva on your cheeks and chin- until he thinks you’ve had a long enough breathing break, slipping himself back into your mouth

this round wasting no time in fucking deep between your lips harshly. with the moans and quickness of his movements. your muffled cries and sounds of your gagging- shoving his twitching fat cock fully in you, he explodes his cum right down your greedy throat. the feeling of his secretion spurting out in ribbons down your cavern, needing air and with such an unfamiliar sensation, you do your best at swallowing around his pumping dick.

when he finishes, pulling out of you with a satisfied sigh, member bumping against your cheek- still covered in drool and his own cum. you spit out the rest of his seed that didn’t make it down. the white mixed cream spilled from the corners of your lips while you coughed for air. with no thought in mind- you didn’t know how much of this was turning you on. your thighs rubbing together and creating a bigger sticky mess between them.

“such an ungrateful bitch- swallow it” is all he says as his already used cock twitches alive again and bumps your nose. seeing how much you were struggling riled the demon in jongho all up again.

but it set fire to something inside him when you decided to spit what you couldn’t handle out. he gave you his seed, and expected you to take it willingly.

instead, you made the decision for his next outcomes to be heightened and harsher.

now he had decided to switch the position up for better and effective insertion.

with you flipped onto your stomach and placed legs spread, ass lifted slightly- he bent down to look at what he was going to destroy.

face to face with your cunt, the way your clit throbbed and pussy clenched around nothing, spilling the slick arousal out by the second. you smelled delicious, you looked delicious- and jongho was going to take it.

spanking your ass, causing your hips to jerk down both from the pain and in need of friction- you give out a pathetic whimper.

“j-jong- ah!!” plea getting interrupted with an eruptive lewd moan that echoes through your room as jongho latches onto your swollen clit.

sucking on it roughly and lapping at your slickened entrance- your neck falls limp and your head drops into the beds mattress.

the quick movements of his tongue, flicking and pressing on your sensitive heat- jongho slapping your thigh then bringing both hands to cup your ass to help grind yourself along his face and mouth, gave you the most blissful sensation you’ve felt. indicating the quickest orgasm to form within you

“mmm- fuck!!” with jongho sending groans into your sex, the vibrations break the tight knot of your peak.

and with a light bite to your clit and a harsh grab of your ass, you come undone. releasing all over his face with a shrieking cry. thighs shaking, hips jerking and pussy spasming- slick covering his chin, jongho does everything he can to lick up every flowing fluid coming from your cunt.

you were absolutely irresistible

“now are you gonna fucking behave and take my cock in your pussy? or are you going to be the little bitch you’ve been?” jongho asks while pulling off of your sensitive bud, positioning his erection against your ass- and giving it a slap.

“you couldn’t even handle having all my cum go down your throat- you are nothing but a fucking-“

“stop!” you plead out, extinguishing his destructive sentence

“excuse me?”

“please stop wasting time!” you cry out, raising your hips

what a perfect little thing you were- finally. he’d got you where he wanted, pleading for his dick like a good girl.

so giving another harsh spank to your ass, erupting a small scream out of your lungs and a red bright mark to bestow on your flesh- jongho slid himself into the warmth of your cunt.

the two of you moaning in unison. filling you up beautifully, you felt every running vein along his dick, how it curved perfectly in you- prodding it’s way to your sweet spot.

jongho relentlessly pounded into your heat until he thought you needed more.

grabbing your throat and pulling your head back for stability, your raspy moans and clenching made the movements even more blissful. the struggle for air adding into the pleasure, his nails digging into the skin of your neck- eyes rolling back in ecstasy

sheathing himself in and out of your tight velvety hole, jongho grew feverish for all of you. and the monster inside him came out, letting go of your brawling trachea- jongho took ahold of each of your arms, just around your biceps, and pulled your upper half up off the bed so you became flush against his sculpted chest. his hands going in opposite ways- as one went to grope your breast, the other went to play with your clit. both stimulations adding to the euphoric force of your pussy being used, all caused you to begin choking out erotic moans in the crook of his neck.

moving his hands expertly, pinching and rubbing- ramming his cock up making slapping sounds into your cunt, jongho began to tighten his hold and rut up uncontrollably.

his dick twitching inside you, feeling so good your voice whined out “give me your load, i want it all!”

it was from the way you desperately asked, and how you shook above him, sucking his member in tight, crying out and letting him touch and play with you wherever- that caused the second wave of utter satisfaction to wash upon you and jongho.

and this time- you took every last drop of his cum, dick pumping it all in your tight heat. your spasming walls from your hit climax milking him empty. the two of you now one.

finally you were his. and with taking him so well- earned you a place of position… you were different. and because now- jongho decided you were going to be his to keep and take care of~

“my dirty little angel”

#ateez #dark ateez #ateez smut #jongho smut #choi jongho #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez blurbs #ateez fic #ateez drabbles #ateez reactions #ateez fluff

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marcspectrr · 2 years

Text

Moon Knight color symbolism thoughts part 2!

Some of @sparklingbinjuice and @ragnell 's comments on my last post have motivated me to get my thoughts down on Jake's color, and because I could probably talk about this show for three days straight without breathing, I decided to attempt a coherent post about it. No promises but to do so, there'll be some references/elaborations on Marc and Steven, but only to illustrate what I'm trying to get at with Jake. Here we go :)

It's easy to understand why having red as Jake's color can be dismissive of the actual depth to his character, diminishing everything we get of him down to just 'violent' and 'aggressive'. I'm not denying that and I'm sure that's the perspective some people have/will have on him. Red is a tricky color because of this; its connotations are ones that are well recognized and ingrained, imbueing widespread interpretations of mostly negative feelings -- danger, blood, "seeing red", etc.

However, much like how Marc and Steven's colors allow for more than the conventional read on their characters, Jake's should be no different. I love how Marc's wardrobe wasn’t dark and broody like him; it was unexpected and yet still made perfect sense. And with Steven, his wardrobe didn't consist of innocent and non-demanding colors to mirror his arguably simple life, it was the opposite, but again, made perfect sense. Having Jake's color as red is, yes, a little more obvious at first, but that doesn't ultimately disregard the ambiguity it can have.

Connecting white/khaki with Marc means recognizing the negative AND positive allusions. With white, there's the innocence he's lost throughout his life AS WELL AS the virtues he remains to live by, (loyalty, perseverance, etc). With khaki, there's his level of reserve (to the point of isolation), its connection to the military and perhaps his need to be directed and almost 'used' to feel purpose, AS WELL AS the strength he possesses despite all of the trauma in his life.

Steven wearing black/blue shows us a wide range of symbolism as well. Black is perhaps the grief that's left from being without a meaningful connection for so long, something we see Steven ache for, and grief for parts of his life that were 'taken' from him without even knowing, the seemingly eternal struggle for searching for happiness in a life with so much missing, AS WELL AS his depth and nuances. Blue is the loneliness AS WELL AS his intelligence and sincerity ("Being honesty.")

So it's the same with Jake, and here's why.

The red in terms of his character is anger and revenge AS WELL AS life and vigor, all of which are evident at some point, all of which require passion, which I think should be the main takeaway when characterizing him. Passion underlies all of his actions (I guess some of it depends on where you deem he was present), and I feel that that is the quality that aligns with red and most resonates with Jake.

HOWEVER. Failing to acknowledge that there is more to Jake than just the violence is the most harmful aspect with 'assigning' Jake with the color red, and I'm optimistic in hoping most of the audience doesn't/won't think that way. Because there is so, so much more to him, despite his screentime.

Anger, because it doesn't negate his development with the way it's implied (I'm gonna say implied here even though I want to say shown, only bc we do get very little of him that's explicitly canon). It's not senseless or aimless, it always has precise intent. And it's not a reckless show of violence, it's always the result of a threat -- not so much a physcial threat but a mental one.

I think Jake is often assigned to be 'the hands' out of the three, the one that takes over in response to physcial trauma. And I don't necessarily disagree with that, there's just a lot of evidence suggesting more of a different role. First, Marc is very capable with killing. We've seen it, we know his background, and even though he might not enjoy it, he's not by any means incompetent, so I don't think it's fair to disregard that.

Also. Some of the implied and canon instances where we see Jake (the aftermath of him, really) follows after a trigger of Marc's, specifically any mention of his brother, but also just any threat against Marc's psyche, when he becomes self-destructive. We get Marc at the end of ep 2 in a drunken haze just after he leaves the room in shambles, after fighting with Steven, which clearly dug up some unwanted thoughts. This one's more implied, I know, but I'm dying on the hill that Jake steps in here, if only just for a second. We got gloves on the bedside table, we have Steven confused, as if he'd been pushed away from witnessing it and we know Jake is still managing to stay undetected at this point, and then the covering over the mirror, the RED covering....

Then there's ep 5, when Harrow mentions "before you got upset, you were talking to me about a boy. Do you remember that boy? You think you could tell me about that little boy?" Something happens here, whether it's Jake trying to front or impersonating Marc, it's something. It reeks of SOMEONE trying to protect Marc from thinking about his brother if you ask me :'). And thennn we have ep 6, during the climax. "Had Ammit been allowed to rule, young Randall's life would've been saved, your family would've been happy." Next thing he knows, Marc is about to kill Harrow. This was canon Jake, 'nuff said.

Revenge, because. Ahem. The very last scene, anyone? "Hoy te toca perder."

Also life, because Jake is just as invested in protecting the system as the others, if anything, the most invested. You think Marc has discipline but then you look at Jake, who's gone undetected for how many years now? I firmly believe he's still with Khonshu for a very good reason.

Also vigor, because although most of it goes without say, there's no denying he can be violent. It doesn't inherently subject him to the evil alter stereotype once you see everything else^.

So. Red on the collar of Marc's shirt as a kid, red covering during one of Jake's first 'appearances', a red sarcophagus, red interior in the limo, (technically) a red eye ahdhdjkfkf I just can't unsee it okay lol.

#moon knight #jake lockely #marc spector #steven grant #moon knight meta #i am SO sorry for the length #kinda #just sorta maybe have a lot of thoughts possibly #thanks for all the positive feedback on my previous post btw!!!#pls take all of this w not as much seriousness as i have w these characters ahdjfkf #this is so fun for me but i get so invested lolol #and these are just opinions and not everythings that deep #ill still never get over marc and steven being white and black -- both colors that represent grieving depending on the culture #can they ever catch a break abdnfkfk

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catboynecromancy · 3 years

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The first time Adam and Ronan share a bed they're both a little hesitant at first because of the enormity of everything: their feelings for each other but also everything they've just gone through. They're lying next to each other not quite touching but almost. Adam wants to reach out to him but is overthinking it when Ronan just lets out a small breath and pulls Adam to him. Adam, secretly pleased, takes a moment to himself with his face tucked in Ronan’s neck but he reaches for Ronan’s hand and links their fingers together, and it grounds him enough so he can pull his face away from Ronan’s neck and kiss him and he thinks about how he's never had someone to kiss goodnight before.

"Bedtime, Parrish."

Ronan kicks at Adam's ankle with his barefoot. The sudden, unexpected touch jolts him awake from where he's been dozing on the couch for an undeterminable length of time. Last Adam remembers, the late afternoon sun was still up, spilling in through bay windows and keeping him warm much the same way a blanket might. Now, however, the living room at the Barns is dark and the only light is artificial, fluorescent, providing no comfort whatsoever.

"Mm," Adam responds, blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes but his vision is bleary, spotty. His lids are heavy from the sort of exhaustion that is not only physical but mental, too. "Don't wanna move."

The other boy tsks and, though Adam can't see it, he knows there is a scowl on Ronan's lips.

"C'mon, you need a good night's sleep," he says, voice still hoarse despite it having been days since the terrifying predicament that nearly tore their lives apart. "Can't get that on the couch, so get your lazy ass up. Not gonna carry you."

Adam considers the benefits and disadvantages of refusing. On the former, curling up right here is easy, he wouldn't have to stumble upstairs to Ronan's bedroom, and he'd be a safe distance from the boy he so desperately wants to touch but is still scared of breaking into a thousand tiny pieces after everything that has happened. The latter would be how the couch is old, cushions a little too broken in, there's no warmth to be had down here, not anymore, and no Ronan. There's not enough space for both of them to sleep, at least not comfortably.

"M'getting up." Even though Adam says this, it still takes him a lot longer than it probably should to slowly, clumsily peel himself off of the couch and stand with a stretch-yawn combo. He rubs his still cloudy eyes, his weariness seemingly neverending.

Yeah, maybe Ronan is right. Maybe Adam does need to sleep properly.

Ronan gently puts his palm to the small of Adam's back, the ghost of a touch, and still, despite that he can still feel heat through the thin fabric separating them.

He allows himself to be led upstairs, going through the motions of brushing his teeth while Ronan makes himself scarce. Leaving his jeans and socks in a sloppy pile on the bathroom floor, Adam finds his way into the familiar childhood bedroom where they'd shared their first kiss what feels like an eternity ago yet hasn't really been much time at all.

They haven't spoken about that night, not yet, whatever they are is still undefined. Adam wants to ask, but he's scared. Not of Ronan, no, he knows Ronan would never hurt him on purpose. What Adam is scared of is himself; he's scared of how much he wants Ronan, of taking too much, devouring everything because his desires are insatiable, until Ronan has nothing left to give and Adam is left still wanting for more.

"Be back. Better be comfy before I get back, or else." It's a fake threat, a Ronan Lynch specialty. He waits for Adam to nod his assent before he excuses himself.

Alone now, Adam stands there awkwardly, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom, the crickets chirping outside, and his own, wavering breathing as his nerves grow. He doesn't know how much time passes, the only answer is enough, because he soon hears the bathroom door slam shut and Ronan stomping down the hall. Remembering the not-threat, Adam scurries onto the bed, just managing to pull the heavy comforter over himself when Ronan walks through the threshold.

Adam holds his breath as Ronan crawls on the mattress to join him, holds his breath when Ronan grabs a corner of the same blanket to cover himself, holds his breath as they settle close enough for the other's presence to be apparent but not overbearing. Ronan is there, so close all it would take is for one, or both of them, to shift just an inch, maybe two, and bridge the distance. So close it would be nothing at all, yet is somehow everything to him.

He squeezes his eyes shut, forces the thoughts down. This is fine, for now, because Adam doesn't know where the line is drawn between them. Best to let Ronan decide, he's the one who initiated this, after all, and he's the one that has some semblance of self-control. Laughable, really, how Lynch is the mature one in this situation. Really says a lot about Adam, how he can't restrain himself when he thinks there is even the slightest thing to be gained and hoarded.

But, God, he wants to just touch Ronan, and is that so bad? Is that so selfish of Adam? To demand the affection he's so desperately wanted his entire life?

Ronan lets out a soft breath and, suddenly, strong arms wrap around him. He tugs Adam until their ribs fit together like matching puzzle pieces and a surprisingly muscular leg nudges between his, limbs tangling. It's everything Adam has wanted and more, his head spins from a mix of exhilaration and nerves, the potential between them paralyzing.

Adam tilts until his face is buried in the crux of Ronan's neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of pine and lemongrass and sweat. It's familiar, soothing, but not quite enough. Underneath the blanket, the hand not smushed between them reaches, searching, until he finds Ronan's hand and twines together slightly trembling fingers.

Warmth radiates from one calloused palm to another, spreading through Adam, filling him with enough confidence to pull away and offer a shaky but cheery smile. He catches a glimpse of the look being returned right before swooping up, capturing Ronan's lips with his own. There's a spark and Adam can't tell if it's really there, if he's imagining it, if Ronan can feel it, too. Adam hopes it's not just him, prays to a God he's not even sure exists, because now that he finally has someone to kiss goodnight, he never wants to go without.

Like air, water, food, shelter, kissing Ronan is a need, not a want.

Adam pulls back but not far, his lips brushing Ronan's as he whispers, "'Night," and brushing as Ronan returns, with a reverence Adam could grow used to, "'Night."

#HEEEEEY anon omg thank you for this #it got a little long #didn't it?#WELL #enjoy!#pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #my fics #my writing #anonymous #asks

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

Forbidden Games: Chapter 4

Alan led the way as the two men proceeded down the corridor to another room. While he walked alone in front, the pair noticed the footsteps of several people following them from behind.

They seemed to be travelling to the back of the building, and apart from the people who were currently moving, there was no sign of life. Apparently, ‘normal’ participants could only play in that large hall from before.

“It’s gotten quite chilly, hasn’t it? As I recall, Mr Holmes, you’re not fond of the cold. Are you alright?” William murmured, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Sherlock himself wasn’t particularly sensitive to the cold, but he kept his expression static as he pondered the intention behind that statement.

In the next moment, William twitched the corner of his mouth upwards in a gesture that only Sherlock would understand. Recognising this, Sherlock understood everything, and promptly played along.

“That’s right. It does seem chilly. ——Liam, could you lend me your coat?”

“No problem, here you go.”

“Thanks.”

William held out the coat he had been carrying under his arm. Sherlock took it and immediately put it on. Then, he straightened the coat as he carefully checked how it felt on him.

“If you’re feeling cold, may I suggest we have a warm drink in one of these rooms before proceeding?”

Alan posed the question with a seemingly concerned tone. It appeared that he had taken William’s words at face value.

“No worries. Anyway, I’m also excited to see what kind of game you have for us. It’s almost like the shivers before a battle.”

At Sherlock’s words, Alan nodded happily.

“Is that the case? As the one introducing you to it, I’m pleased to hear that.”

At last, they reached their destination. Alan quietly opened the door and bid the duo enter. The two men shared a look, and went in silently.

The room was dimly lit, and roughly a quarter the size of the hall they were previously in. In the centre was a finely crafted round table, and surrounding it was a group of gentlemen standing in silence, staring at the new entrants.

It was an ominous sight, as if it were a secret ritual. The men’s expressions were unanimously mild, but there was also a keen sense of malice hidden underneath. Even so, having witnessed countless bloody battles and come out standing, William and Sherlock remained unperturbed amidst the disquieting atmosphere.

Sherlock looked at a corner of the room, and flashed a big grin.

“Yo, fancy meeting you here.”

Standing there was the noble’s son whom Sherlock had been tasked to find. Just like the other gentlemen, he was dressed sharply. Yet he lacked a trace of the dignity befitting a noble, instead glancing around his surroundings in sheer terror.

Having observed the young man’s appearance, William murmured a question to Sherlock.

“Is he the young man you were searching for?”

“Yep. It looks like he’s alive for now, but judging from his behaviour, it’s not hard to imagine how he was treated by these guys.”

After deducing the situation, they heard the click of a lock behind them.

Turning around, they saw Alan standing with his back to the door, a smile plastered on his face.

“As expected, you’re quick on the uptake. I sincerely admire your excellent deductive abilities.”

Sherlock snorted at his feigned courtesy.

“What’re you talking about? You’re the one who brought us here.”

“I thought it’d be pointless to keep this place a secret once you’d sniffed it out. Anyway, I reckoned I’d make sure to give him a proper welcome too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Still, what reason could you possibly have for locking up some noble brat? Are all these guys your accomplices too?”

Alan made a show of being astonished.

“We don’t do such perverse things as locking people up. All we pursue is the pure delight of a game, and the comrades gathered here today share in this goal. It is only when pleasure is kept secret that it ascends to a higher realm.”

“——So just like what you did to us earlier, you invited this man here, coerced him into playing some ‘thrilling game’ which he lost, then locked him in this room until he pays off his debt. Is that right?”

“…………”

William’s harsh words stripped away the veneer of Alan’s so-called lofty pleasures, revealing them to be but deceitful tricks. The man raised no retort, and Sherlock clicked his tongue.

“So, are you holding this noble’s son hostage for ransom? Or are you thinking of threatening him so that he’ll make arrangements for you when he inherits his estate? In any case, deceiving and threatening kids makes you no different from a stingy crook.”

Having been bluntly maligned, Alan finally shook his head in sadness.

“It’s utterly regrettable to be misunderstood in such a way. This man consented to play the game of his own free will. However, because he refused to pay up despite his defeat, I’ve had to keep persuading him ardently like this.”

“Persuasion…… so you say,” William retorted.

Having taught students of the same age, he did not hide his displeasure.

Then Sherlock pressed on, openly revealing his irritation.

“Well? Our goal here’s to bring him home safely, but as for you, you’re not going to let things go that easily, are you?”

Alan held out both arms, as if to express his admiration.

“Both of you have been a big help advancing the conversation so smoothly. But there’s no need to be afraid. We have no intention of committing barbaric acts. As I conveyed from the start, all I want to do is play a game with you, with all my heart and soul.”

“Damn you, if this was really just a game then there’d be no need to bet.”

“Doesn’t the risk of defeat just add to the excitement?”

“……Only your ability to make sophisms is first-class, huh.”

They seemed to be getting nowhere trading arguments with this man. Sherlock sighed, as if rendered speechless.

Taking over from the exhausted detective, William spoke up.

“In that case, would you release this man if we win your game?”

Alan nodded in enthusiasm.

“Precisely, since our motto is that all’s fair and square when it comes to games.”

However, Sherlock nudged William with his elbow.

“Liam, you don’t have to go out of your way to play along with them. If you leave it to me, I’ll beat these wimps to a pulp in seconds.”

Hearing Sherlock’s statement, Alan took a step back.

“Ooh, how frightening. In that case……”

He raised his hand. Taking that as a signal, one of Alan’s accomplices brandished a knife and held it to the young noble’s throat. Unable to even make a sound, the young man went white with shock.

“We have no choice but to respond appropriately.”

Alan’s friendly smile had morphed into a brutal one. Having seen the gentleman reveal his true nature, William finally looked at him with disgust.

“In other words, no matter how much we struggle to avoid it, we’ll be drawn into a game…… and although it wouldn’t be outright impossible, it would be difficult to call it ‘fair and square’.”

“This is all simply because we love games,” Alan said brazenly, with no regard for the hostility directed at him.

At that instant, the pair decided to crush this man.

“——Excellent.”

Sherlock spoke up. Even though it wasn’t said particularly loudly, his statement rang out across the room.

William continued in an exceedingly polite tone.

“The extent to which you wish to play games, that I have understood completely. Therefore, regardless of the outcome, I hope you will not regret your decision.”

“……Ooh.”

The pressure exerted by the pair’s fighting spirit had started to make Alan’s entire body tense up.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re in the mood now. By the way, what would you both like to wager on this match?”

At his question, the pair looked at each other.

“We demand that this man be set free. As for the price of our defeat…… Well, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Anything I want?” Alan doubted.

Immediately, William chimed in.

“Then it would be the same for me. In the event that we lose, be it money, my position as a noble, or the fruits of my academic research, please feel free to lay claim to any of them.”

Alan’s eye twitched at their careless manner of speaking.

“……I don’t suppose you both take me for a fool?” he uttered, in a deeply uncomfortable tone.

“That would be outrageous. It’s simply because I have conviction.”

“When Liam and I team up, no one can stand up to us.”

They were outnumbered in the enemy’s hideout. On top of that, the enemy had taken a hostage.

But even though it would seem to anyone that they were at a disadvantage, the duo’s voices were filled with confidence. Any listener would soon realise that it was not an act of bravado. The two of them had complete trust that their intellectual capacity and force of will far exceeded that of these petty villains.

“…………”

Having been struck head-on by William and Sherlock’s unshakeable conviction, an intense, hot hatred welled up in the pit of Alan’s stomach.

——In the past, Alan had been an influential noble with a vast plot of land in the vicinity of Durham. However, he had fallen into economic ruin with the Industrial Revolution and the current of the times. Simply put, he had begun to walk the path of his downfall.

He’d blindly believed his days of prosperity would continue for all eternity. Watching them fade away, Alan had sunk into the depths of despair, and desperately sought a way to assuage this sense of defeat.

To that end, he became absorbed in games. Whenever he and his opponent had agreed upon the rules and engaged in an earnest match, with him coming out the victor, Alan found that those indescribable highs were finally able to satisfy him.

Having grown aware of his appetite, upon finding out that there was a club established with the purpose of playing ‘games’, Alan immediately sought out his old friends in the nobility to gain admission. He then gathered like-minded people from within the club. Among the club members, he then would pick a target, covertly invite them to a game, and use brute force to achieve victory after victory.

Day after day they would rob nobles of their rights, with demands for payment which were unmistakably threats. His accomplices appeared to be satisfied by the profits, but Alan was different. He wanted to look down upon his opponent and use any means necessary to make them surrender.

Therefore, even now, as he held a noble’s son as a hostage, Alan refused to negotiate. He only desired to win the game. No matter what absurd sequence of events was taking place.

However, these young men were different. Even in the midst of danger, they were calm and composed, with no expectation at all that they would be defeated.

Faced with a type of person he had never met up till now, Alan not only remembered what it felt like to be irritated, but also chuckled inwardly to himself: it would surely be a pleasant experience to tear them down.

Once again, he put on a boastful smirk.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll be the one to decide the price of your defeat.”

“Fine by me. Well then, what game shall we play?”

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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