#imagine if she had a lover who she lost in the tragedy too
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transingthoseformers · 4 months ago
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What do you think nickels life on Prion was like?
Honestly?
I feel like her life on Prion was pretty good, if a tad mundane compared to what was to come
Tfwiki doesn't have much on what Prion was like beyond it having been a peaceful colony, or much on Nickel's life before the Black Box Consortia arrived, so there's a lot of directions we can go
But
I like to imagine Nickel was "just" your typical Minicon medic on Prion, perhaps she's been practicing medicine for a little while and hasn't kept in touch with her friends as closely as she (in her opinion) should have. Maybe she was working in a relatively isolated part of the planet and that aided her survival in the tragedy. (It's been a little while since I've read mtmte I forget if we were shown exactly when the DJD found her or no) but I feel like she did have friends. She did have colleagues she used to be close with and she did have people who cared about her.
Did, being in the past tense.
She lost everything she had when the Black Box Consortia arrived. That's part of why she latched onto the DJD so quickly. Did not help that the DJD, as it seemed, needed her help.
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damiiimidassss · 2 months ago
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Chung Myung x Yin Yue(oc)
Chapter 2: Second life, Burn
Info: It seems that this life is much more traumatic than the other. This is Yin Yue's most traumatic life she had, she had never forgotten what everything happened here.
Tw: death, mentions of cult
This chapter will have sketches of what the characters look like
Chap3
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200 years had passed before both of them got reborn
The smell of incense clung to the heavy air, swirling in the dim light of the temple, where the cult leaders sat in the shadow of their own twisted power. In the heart of the cult, among rituals and whispers of control, a young girl named Chung Myung—the reincarnation of him —was born. She was the daughter of the cult leader, raised to be the future head of their fanatical order, surrounded by secrets and blood oaths.
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Chung Myung's beauty was ethereal, her presence commanding even at a young age. But within her eyes, there was something different. 'Her soul, though unaware, was bound to a past life, to mistakes and betrayals.
Unbeknownst to her, there was someone watching over her, someone who had known her for far longer than she could imagine.
His name was Yin Yue her personal guard. A man of strong stature, sharp-eyed and loyal—or so the cult believed. But Yin Yue was not simply a guard. He remembered everything. Their past life. Past heartbreak. In his previous life, he had been the lover of the man who was now reincarnated as a woman.
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He had seen Chung Myung—the man he loved—turns into a woman. But Yin Yue had never stopped loving him, even after death. Now, seeing Chung Myung reborn as girl, he was determined to protect her, to break the cycle that had brought them nothing but suffering.
Yin Yue met Chung Myung with the same smile Yin Yue always adored
Chung Myung was different in this life. Innocent, pure, unaware of the curse that had bound her to heartbreak in every incarnation. But she was trapped in the cult, a prisoner of her birthright, expected to lead them when the time came.
YIn Yue had been placed by her side as a protector, an enforcer of the cult’s will. But secretly, he had vowed to save her from their clutches—and from the curse that clung to her fate.
In the stillness of the night, Yin Yue would watch over Chung Myung as she slept, his heart heavy with the memories of their past life, aching for the love they had shared and lost. He could never tell her the truth—she wouldn’t understand, not yet. But he could protect her. He could rewrite their story.
One night, as they stood together on the balcony of the towering cult fortress, Chung Myung turned to him, her eyes soft under the moonlight.
"Yin Yue," she said quietly, "Why do you always look at me as if you’ve known me forever?"
Yin Yue's breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t tell her—not everything—but something in her gaze, the quiet longing, urged him to speak.
"Because," he began, choosing his words carefully, "In another life, I think we knew each other. I swore to protect you, always."
Chung Myung smiled, a flicker of something familiar in her expression, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.
“I trust you,” she said softly, her hand lightly brushing his arm. “I feel safe with you.��
Yin Yue's heart ached, knowing that even now, as their bond began to bloom again, tragedy loomed. The cult was growing restless, its leaders more fanatical by the day. He had heard whispers—dark plans, dangerous rituals. They were planning something violent, something that would tear Chung Myung's family apart.
But worse, the curse still lingered, waiting for the moment to strike.
One night, the prophecy came to pass. The cult revolted against Chung Myung's family, claiming that the leaders had grown too weak, too complacent. They sought a new beginning—one that would rise from the ashes of the old.
Yin Yue fought through the chaos, his blade slashing through enemies as the fortress burned around him. Flames roared, devouring the wood and stone, casting an orange glow across the night sky. He had to find Chung Myung, had to save her before it was too late.
Inside the heart of the fire, Chung Myung stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror as she watched her family perish in the flames. The cult members turned on them, one by one, executing them in cold blood. Her father, the great cult leader, was engulfed by the blaze as he tried to save his power.
Yin Yue reached her just as the flames closed in. He grabbed her hand, pulling her from the wreckage, but as they ran through the burning hallways, a beam collapsed, separating them.
“Chung Myung! ” Yin Yue shouted, desperately trying to reach her through the inferno.
But as he fought his way toward her, the flames consumed the world around him. In the final moments before the building collapsed, Chung Myung face flashed before him, her terrified eyes locking onto his. In that instant, the memories of every life, every death, seemed to flood back into her, the realization of who they once were dawning in her gaze.
She whispered his name—"Yin Yue, my love", as if she finally remembered.
And then the flames took her.
Yin Yue screamed, rushing forward, but it was too late. The cult’s fortress crumbled around him, the fire swallowing everything in its path. As he stood amidst the ruins, the ash and smoke choking the air, he realized that the curse had struck again. He had failed once more.
Yin Yue cried his heart out, the light in his eyes completely gone
Chung Myung was gone, and with her, the chance to break the curse in this life. But as the fire burned out and the cult's stronghold lay in ruins, Yin Yue knew one thing: they would meet again. The curse would bring them together once more, in another life, and he would try again to break the tragic cycle that bound their souls.
He grabs his swords his hands shaking, he slits his throat as he coughed blood. A familiar darkness in his vision.
Yin Yue decided he would get much stronger. Yin Yue will kill Ling alone without Chung Myung by her side, but that's okay. Because Chung Myung won't even remember Yin Yue
For love was eternal, and even in death, Yin Yue would not abandon Chung Myung.
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A quick tradegy art!!
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rainwingmarvel7 · 3 months ago
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The Funeral
A little drabble of @sikudastoner’s OC Mabel and Helaena (and Tristan) I decided to write after the oc relationship ask game a few weeks ago!
Prince Tristan Dormaire looked almost peaceful atop the funeral pyre. He lay with his hands resting on the handle of his sword, over his heart, so that even in death he looked every bit the knight he was. On his brow had been placed the crown which had been made for him as a boy, a silver band with dragon wings adorning the sides and a glittering onyx in the center. He was dressed in black, for once without his Kingsguard armor, which he himself had discarded before his ill-fated flight over the Blackwater. Curled around him as if to protect him even in death was the remains of his dragon, Stormfyre, who had died with him.
Queen Helaena stood beside the pyre, her tear-streaked face hidden behind a black veil, the same one she had worn in mourning for her son. Her shoulder shook with quiet sobs.
Mabel’s heart ached for the grieving queen. She could not imagine the pain she felt, losing the one that she had loved.
“Each day feels like another tragedy,” Tyland murmured gloomily from beside her. “Yesterday it was Prince Jaehaerys. Today it was Ser Tristan. Who will it be tomorrow?”
Mabel said nothing, her gaze still caught on Helaena. Alicent Hightower had come to stand beside her now, rubbing her back as she whispered something in her daughter’s ear.
Concerned for her friend, Mabel slipped away from her husband and began approaching the pair.
“No, I don’t want to,” Helaena was saying, voice high and shaking with tears. “Please don’t make me do it.”
“You must, Helaena,” Alicent pressed. More softly, she added, “He would want it to be you.”
Instantly, Mabel understood what it was they were discussing. It was Helaena’s dragon, Dreamfyre, that was to light Tristan’s pyre.
The great blue dragon was perched behind the pyre, looking on with more distress than Mabel had thought possible of a dragon. The beast continued to let out low, mourning cries each time she looked down at the pyre. It was not only Helaena who was grieving. Her dragon was too. Stormfyre was her baby, she had hatched from her clutch. And so a woman had lost her lover, and a mother had lost her child.
“She’s right, Helaena,” Mabel spoke up. Both queens looked up at her as she spoke. Helaena was choking back sobs. “Tristan would have wanted you to be the one. He-he loved you. And he would have told you that you are strong enough to do this. And even if you don’t believe it, I do.”
She took Helaena’s shaking hand as she spoke.
“You can do this.”
Helaena stared at her for a long moment, lips quivering, then gazed down at Tristan one last time before turning her attention to Dreamfyre.
She did not have to speak a word for the dragon to know that she was looking. Mabel thought she could see the same pain reflecting in Dreamfyre’s eyes as Helaena’s.
And then Helaena spoke.
“Dracarys.”
Dreamfyre obeyed, shooting a burst of flame onto the pyre, and it was set ablaze.
And as it burned, as Tristan and Stormfyre were turned to nothing but ash and bone, Mabel held Helaena’s hand, and vowed to never again let it go.
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facelessp03t · 1 year ago
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The Dreamer and the Defiant
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Before the Doom, before the lady Daenys foretold the destruction destined for her home and fled with her family, before the great topless towers of Valyria were built, before even the ancient magic of Valyria bound dragon to man, there was a song. A song so old, it was sung by those who had not yet written, in a language now lost. 
This song, called “The Lovesick One”, was about a young sheepherder girl who loves another, and it brings to her destruction. The protagonist, who is never named, watches her lover, a girl called Aeril, marry and leave her. These doings leave the protagonist in ruin until she can no longer take it; she walks into the pits upon the Fourteen Flames, becoming one with the fires which later bore dragons. The song ends with Aeril herself doing the same, eternally returning to her lost love.
Aegona had always felt a kinship to The Nameless Girl. Felt the sorrow the fires around Valyria held, the hopelessness within the molten rock. She always felt connected with the mountains surrounding her homeland, bound to the fires that birthed her nation’s success. At just seven-and-ten, Aegona Daezgygar was a promising young woman of Valyria. She was the rider of the formidable dragon Pryjagis, a determined stateswoman, and fiercely loyal friend. The second child of the powerful Raeon Daezgygar and his lady-wife Syrax Belaerys, she was highly educated and regarded with pride by her father. That is, until she grew independent and strayed from her Valyrian traditions, from her father's plans for her.
Daenys Targaryen, the youngest child of Aenar Targaryen, had always felt different. The only girl in her household, she had always known what was expected of her. Like wed her brother Gaemon, and to blindly support him and their father no matter what. What she had always wanted, however, was someone to blindly support her. Daenys had been plagued with visions of the future since birth, scaring her into a lonely, simple life. Dragonless, she had spent most of her youth in the ancient and sprawling libraries of Valyria instead of flying over it on dragonback. That is, until she met Aegona. Daenys Targaryen and Aegona Daezgygar became inseparable at three-and-ten, spending all their available time with each other. Aegona would take Daenys all over the Valyrian Freehold on her dragon Pryjagis, and Daenys would recant for hours the hundreds of stories she had ever read to her friend. Then, tragedy struck.
This is where this story begins.
Set in 115 BC, thirteen years before the Doom, comes this imagined story of love between the famous Dragon Dreamer, Daenys, and a long forgotten Valyrian girl, Aegona.
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Chapter 1
“You cannot do this, Father. I will not do this!” Aegona recoiled at her father’s demand. The gall of him. She had already given up her political ambitions at his behest, had stopped riding to preserve his strong image, had relinquished her position on the Council in favor of her weak brother. She refused to wed for him.
“I can and you shall! I will not allow you to bring any more dishonor upon us.”
Sitting in the great hall of Goldstone, the holding of the noble family of Daezgygar in the city of Valyria, Aegona faced her father. Next to her at the dragonstone table, seated amongst the dozens of blood marble chairs in the roofless hall flanked with dragon skulls and made of magnificent purple-and-blue arches, were her brother, Vhaelor, and her sister, Alaesys.
“Father, why may I not be wed to Alaesys alone? We together shall continue our pure and noble line. I do not need Aegona.” Vhaelor was the epitome of Valyrian pride. He was a gorgeous man of three-and-twenty, with flowing white-gold hair, deep purple eyes, and skin so unblemished and pale it was almost translucent. Alaesys, too.
Despite being twins, Aegona and Alaesys looked far from similar. Where Alaesys looked like Vhaelor, like their parents, Aegona boasted shoulder-length silver-gray hair, green eyes, and a surprisingly boring face when compared to her siblings. Vhaelor had always preferred her sister to her, primarily due to Aegona’s lack of Valyrian looks.
“Alaesys is a worthy bride indeed who shall fulfill you, yes. You will continue our line. But you will wed Aegona. What will others say if Aegona remains unbound? If not even her own brother will take her?” Raeon Daezgygar was a ruthless, fearless man of the Lords Freeholder of Valyria, being one of the wealthiest men in the entire Freehold. He owned hundreds of gold mines across the peninsula, deep underneath the Fourteen Flames; he controlled with three other families almost a tenth of Valyria’s wealth, and almost twenty-thousand slaves.
Despite his age of five-and-fifty, Raeon looked to be as young as his children. The noble Daezgygars had practiced sorcery and blood magic since they herded sheep instead of gold, and upon its members it shone brightly.
Aegona stood, pounding her fists on the table. Alaesys and Vhaelor flinched, yet Raeon remained still. He turned his head slowly to his daughter, menacing. She glared at her father. “They shall say nothing. I will take to the skies and prove my worth as a dragonlord. I shall fly upon Pryjagis to war, bring glory to Valyria like Uncle Maeron. I will not be tamed upon a marriage bed. Least of all Vhaelor’s.” She believed Vhaelor to be an arrogant, brainless sot who knew not how to think for himself. Just like their father.
Raeon leapt from his chair, sending a magical gust to his daughter. Flung to the ground, pinned upon the glass floor by an invisible force, Aegona thrashed, screaming in frustration. Raeon walked over to her, kneeling. The golden fire in his eyes was cold. Terrifying.
“I will kill that beast for how you speak to me, then you shall be bound here forever. You will be tamed, and it will be by Vhaelor. You shall sit wed before the year is over. If you flee, so help me gods, I will hunt you down myself.”
Aegona grinned at him, taunting. “Hunt me with what, Father? You shall find me flying above the Narrow Sea while you sit upon, what? A mule?” she spat in his face.
Raeon’s mount, the ancient and monstrous she-dragon Leriod, had recently taken ill and would soon be dead. Raeon had barred the women of his household from riding their dragons, for fear of public opinion. He could not have his daughters and wife riding fearsome beasts while he sat emasculated in his keep, bound to a horse.
He growled, raising his hand to strike.
“Father, do not do this. By giving her your energy, you are giving into her,” Vhaelor said from behind him, his face expressionless.
Raeon turned his head to look at his heir, then back down at his daughter. “You are lucky your brother has sense. Next time, you shall not be so lucky.” Standing, he walked back to his seat at the head of the table. Finally released, Aegona also stood, looking to her siblings. Their hands were clasped together upon the table.
“This is it, then? You shall sit here while he plays you like pawns upon a board?”
It was Alaesys who spoke now, her voice as soft as the snows that fell in the infamous Lands of Always Winter. “That is enough, Aegona. Please do not be difficult about this. Marriage shall not be so bad.”
Aegona scoffed. “‘Difficult’? Is that what we are to call a woman having an opinion in the matters of her own life? Fine. Sit here and take this, but I will not.” She did not wait to hear their responses. Bounding out of the great hall, Aegona sent a gust of hot wind behind her, slamming the carved doors as she exited.
Goldstone was an immense building, a feat of architecture older than Valyria itself. With walls of arches, floors of glass, halls lined with sculptures of the great members of the Daezgygar dynasty, carved from the gold of their mines, it was magnificent. The fires upon the walls, contained within intricate dragonstone cauldrons, were golden and kept alight by the sorcery thick in the air.
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There were five towers of Goldstone surrounding the main keep, named after the great founders of the family. To the north, Gael; to the east, Aeragon; to the west, Jahaer; to the south, Vhagar; and to the south-east, across a bleak and sorrowful wooden bridge that was scarcely crossed, stood Laerys, with a roof of dark dragonstone that swallowed even dragonflame that stood stark against the other towers’ golden.
Gael, Aeragon, Jahaer, Vhagar, and Laerys were siblings, children of sheepherders that had discovered dragons only generations before, who lived in poverty amongst the Fourteen Flames. One day, as they were bringing an offering of sheep to their dragons among the smoldering pits, they discovered something. Within the caves where the dragons nested was gold, waiting for someone to discover it, begging to be released from its stone prison.
After chipping all the gold they could from the cave opening, amassing more wealth than anyone in their village, they were hungry still. Aeragon and Jahaer, worrying for the safety of themselves and their sisters Gael and Vhagar, sent their youngest sibling, Laerys, into the hot depths of the cave to find more. Beneath the burning lava of the Mother Mountains, something horrible had happened. Laerys did not return. His siblings waited for weeks at the cave mouth, yet he did not emerge.
Years went by, and with no sign of the young man, they moved on. By this time, the family had mastered the use of indentured servitude to mine their gold. They adopted the name “Daezgygar”, meaning “Those of Golden Wool” in the Old Tongue. They had become kings in their own right, had given their blood to the gods for prosperity and promise.
After twenty years, the holding of Goldstone was built. Each sibling, Gael and Aeragon now wed along with Jahaer and Vhagar, built a tower in their honor. They had discovered gold. They had mastered an efficient way to harvest it. They had curried the favor of the gods. What they had not managed, however, was to tame the dragon. They yet remained unridden, unbound by men. That is, until day five of the eleventh month of year twenty-two of Laerys’s absence.
That morning, as the sun rose above the horizon, a monstrous roar shook the world. The walls of the newly-completed Goldstone rocked with such force that the wooden roofs fell and the towers almost toppled. Gael, Aeragon, Jahaer, and Vhagar fled to the ground from their stories-tall keep, wrought with terror. As they reached the ground, a shadow enveloped them. Looking up, they saw the impossible. Above them, riding a ghastly beast thought untameable, was a man.
Laerys Daezgygar touched down upon hundreds of screaming men, women, and children atop the conglomerate of mines, grinning widely at his siblings. He looked as young as he did the day he vanished-- younger even. He wore naught but the torn cotton robe he had when he entered that cave, but gods did he look ever so different. Gone was his brown hair, his olive skin, his green eyes. He now boasted a head of long white hair, not that of age but of some unnatural power; his skin was a white so bright it seemed he had been poured of liquid sun. His eyes had become a purple of the lavender flowers in the north, with a mystical fire burning within. His face looked the same, but somehow shone with a beauty so radiant it could have stopped even the gods in their tracks.
“Miss me?” His voice had not changed, but somehow it had. The sound was the same, but there was something within. Something magical.
Within the caves, after he could not find his way out, Laerys had lay dying in the intense heat below the volcanoes of his homeland. He was come upon by a nesting she-dragon, who took him into her clutch. He became one with the family, the formidable beast he now rode being his mother. With her own milk she nursed him from the brink, with her magic fire she bathed him. Over the years, he learned their language, the mysterious one later known as High Valyrian. The magic of the caves, the dragons themselves, entered his very cells and became a part of him, turning him from a man. Turning him into something… other.
Aegona’s chambers were in Laerys. Before she became the thorn in her father’s side, she resided in Gael with Alaesys, the biggest tower. But then Gryr happened, and she was shunned to the bleak tower made for the familial outlier. Alas, she had to make room for her brother to take her place at her sister’s side.
She and Alaesys had always been close. From birth, they were inseparable. Riding their dragons together, Bantagon and Pryjagis. Running and laughing amongst the Great Flames of the Gods while they were meant to be praying. Playing in the ancient libraries when meant to be reading. They were the best of friends, and Aegona was happy. Then her sister matured, blossoming into a great beauty while Aegona retained a boyish figure, flat where her twin’s curved. Vhaelor had never cared too much about his sisters, least of all Aegona. He had always proved impartial at best, tending to avoid the laughing girls. Yet when Alaesys became a woman, he made up his mind.
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Vhaelor and Alaesys had not left each other’s sides since, begging their father to allow their pairing. Raeon was apprehensive, having always meant the elder Aegona to wed his heir. Then she ruined herself, as he would say, and he gave in to Vhaelor. They were to be wed before the end of the month, and if Raeon had his way, the wedding would have two brides.
Aegona walked hurriedly to her chambers, angry heat radiating from her. If her father would not heed her, she would show him the same courtesy. Coming to the swaying bridge, she stopped midway to her tower. As she grasped the rope railing, she took the horn hanging from her neck in her hands. Aegona would show the great Raeon Daezgygar that she was destined to be greater than he would ever be. Blowing into the ancient dragonhorn, she beckoned her beast.
Pryjagis was a menacing creature of old. He had been old when her grandfather had claimed him, having fought the harpy of the Ghiscari centuries ago. Pryjagis boasted scales of blues of all shades, with horns the black of night. His flame was a magnificent orange with swirls of yellow and red, almost as bright as the sun. Alaesys rode the sister of Pryjagis, born from the same clutch all those years ago. Bantagon had scales of orange, red, and yellow, horns of white what had yellowed with age, and a flame of dark blue with streaks of black. Aegona missed riding with her sister dearly. As children, she dreamt that they would ride alongside one another to war, bringing glory to their homeland. That was before she saw the truth of the world.
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Pryjagis landed atop Laerys with a roar, greeting his rider. The sun shone on him, revealing his whole beauty.
“Hello, handsome.” Aegona walked to him, climbing upon his saddle and grabbing the reins. There was only one person she wished to see at this moment, and she knew exactly where she would be. “To the libraries, Pryjagis.” To Daenys Targaryen.
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Thank you for reading! I (stupidly) got into a car accident yesterday and had time to finish this. All artwork belongs to me; I used AI to bring this story to life. Chapter two, which will focus on Daenys, will ideally be up in a week or two, if anyone actually reads this and cares. Have a great day!
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oops-i-accidentally · 1 year ago
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Ruins of the Mad King Pt. 2 - The Gods
The pantheon of the world, the deities that guide and protect the mortals through their lives. Though they reside in the Celestial Plane, their presences are still very much felt in all aspects of life. In the busy docks of a seaside town and the hallowed halls of the courts, in songs a bard sings and in the swing of a warrior’s blade. In the the act of comforting the weak, the act of protecting the wilds, and the act of putting one to rest, the gods stand besides the mortals.
At least, they should.
Ereindal The Matron of Endings The goddess that created the worlds and realms beyond. She was once held captive by The Broken One, her eternal energy feeding its eternal hunger, until she managed to escape into the Material Plane. From there, she created all that mortals know to be in life, from the dirt they tread on to the forests they explore. It was a tragedy when, in order to save her creations, she sacrificed herself to lock The Broken One away once again by acting as bait. Her loss was felt through all the realms.
Ar’sogthel The Broken One, The Lurker of the Gate, The Serpent Between Realms, The Nameless Mist Hunger and destruction incarnate, the destroyer of worlds. This beast is Ereindal’s opposite, the thing that balances her creation, but it cannot survive without her. Like a snake that eats its own tail, it can only ever consume to extend its life while only nearing its demise. It had been freed from its cage after a plot that spanned multiple millennia, causing the apocalypse in its wake. It was only returned to its space of nothingness by bringing Ereindal with it, to once again eternally fulfill its hunger.
Luxas The Master of the Tapestry The deity of fate, the first celestial being made after Ereindal was free. They were her right hand and oldest friend, the calm rock for her childish storms. They are a hermit, avoiding interaction with the mortals for as long as religious history can remember. Despite that, even they have been strangely quiet for the last 50 years...
Larhena The Scribe of the Past One of the three Fates, the helpers of Luxas, Larhena is in control of the past. She is the eldest of the triplets, but has a deep mischievous streak that’s only tempered by her siblings’ more calm personalities. She is the holder of all of the world’s history, that which is known and that which has been lost is all held within her sight. Though she once directed the threads of fate, she is now more involved in the affairs of the mortal world than any of the gods in the past millennia.
Larasil The Seer of the Present One of the three fates, Larasil is the omniscient watcher of the present. He is the middle child and is the rock of his two siblings, between Larhena’s mischief and Laremis’ flights of fancy. He keeps watch over all of the current affairs of the mortals to ensure none of the strings he weaves are cut or entangled against the plan, working where none can see him to keep order in the chaos. Currently, though, he finds himself tasked with cleaning up Larhena’s messes more than anything else.
Laremis The Oracle of the Future One of the three Fates, Laremis is the one who worked with Larhena to ensure the tapestry the threads of fate make up are plotted correctly. They see the big picture, the end result, while Larhena laid out the base. They are prone to daydreaming and getting lost in their imagination, for what they imagine are possible futures for the mortals they weave together, and are only held down by their siblings. Nowadays, however, they seem to be missing from the picture they once helped weave. All that is left behind are cryptic poems warning of what is to come, obvious only when it’s too late.
Desgaus The Mistreader Desgaus is the deity of magic, and is mostly commonly attributed as the creator of monsters. They're commonly depicted as a figure hidden behind a fabric shroud, their face forever and always a mystery. Desgaus is known to be the lover of Lenua, called the dark side of her moon, and the pair are rarely (if ever) separated from each other. They are one of the more rarely worshiped gods, usually by arcanists with a more religious streak. Their holy animal is the crane.
Lenua The Starwalker Lenua is the goddess of the moon and the night, the twin sister to Solis and lover of Desgaus. She keeps watch over the sleeping mortals during the night and is said to protect them from the dangers lurking the shadows, offering solace in her silvery light. She is most commonly worshiped by travelers and thieves, and even the creatures of the night are said to hold a reverence for her word and power. Her holy animal is the fox.
Solis The Dawneye Solis is the god of the sun and the day, the twin brother of Lenua. He watches over the mortals during the light of day, allowing the plants to grow and work to be done. He is known as a joyous god, encouraging others to show jubilation in his light, and is rumored to be more involved in mortal affairs than some other gods may be. He is most commonly worshipped by travelers, lawmen, and farmers. His holy animal is the kestrel.
Athres The Firespiller Athres is the deity of war, and lover of Contra and Dionsia. He is the one who watches over all mortal conflict, judging each side’s causes and giving blessings to those he feels deserve the rights of victory more. There have been times where it’s rumored that Athres himself took part in a war, or worked in close quarters with a chosen mortal to act as his vessel. He is commonly worshiped by warriors and soldiers, and called upon in times of conflict by leaders. His holy animal is the lion.
Contra The Soulweaver Contra is the deity of love, and the lover of Athres and Dionsia. Her domain included all types of affection a mortal may have for another, not purely romantic love. Some even posit that her true realm of power is the mortal soul, for what is a soul if not the ability to feel affection? She is the most widely worshiped deity of the pantheon because of this, held in the same high regard as Hesret, for no being is exempt from feeling affection of every single kind. Her holy animal is the bird of paradise.
Dionsia The Joywriter Dionsia is the deity of revelry, and the lover of Athres and Contra. They are also known as the deity of creativity, oftentimes blessing creatives of all art forms with inspiration and energy to create. As the deity of revelry, they are known to take on mortal forms to enjoy the riches and bliss only found in the mortal realms. They are worshiped by creatives, writers and artists, as well as anyone who lives a life more hedonistic and chaotic than might be wise. Their holy animal is the leopard.
Kemphra The Lifebringer Kemphra is the goddess of the earth. She works with Vastrom and Pelus to protect the wild places of the world from the destruction that mortals are prone to, for the land is just as much a child of Ereindal as the mortals are. She is known as a chaotic deity prone to quickly shifting moods, as calm as a serene pool in one moment and as furious as an erupting volcano in the next. She is most widely worshiped by farmers. Her holy animal is the rabbit.
Vastrom The Tideshaker Vastrom is the god of the seas. He is the protector of the waves and all that live underneath the waters, just as Kemphra and Pelus protect their own domains. While he is not as chaotic as Kemphra, he is known to be rather mischievous and plays tricks on sailors long out at sea. It is well known that he and Riventen are at constant odds, the fickleness of water coming to blows with the rigidity of mortal responsibility. He is worshiped by sailors and fishermen. His holy animal is the albatross.
Riventen The Peaceholder Riventen is the deity of leadership. They are widely regarded as the king of the gods because of this domain, leading and keeping the other deities in check for the mortals’ benefit. They are the judge of those that affront the gods, and work with Mortos to decide the destination of souls once a mortal has passed; either reincarnation, or an eternity in the hells. They are often depicted as being blinded, a cloth wrapped over their eyes, as they hold aloft a set of scales. They are commonly worshiped by leaders and lawmen, and courthouses are commonly also used as their temples. Their holy animal is the eagle.
Mortos The Endwatcher Mortos is the deity of death, and the leader of the hells. They are tasked with keeping the line between life and death, never allowing it to be crossed. They and their devas work as psychopomps to ferry the souls of the deceased. They are known as a cold deity, one that isn’t known to harbor the warmth that most of the other deities show, and as such are less worshiped and more feared. Despite this, a small sect has dedicated themself to Mortos and their worship in the Church of Mortos, who act as grave tenders and keepers of cemeteries. Their holy animal is the raven.
Pelus The Vinerunner Pelus is the god of the wilds, the forests and jungles of the world. He works with Kemphra and Vastrom to keep these spaces protected, though he tends to achieve this through fear rather than mischief or chaos. He oversees the delicate balance of the ecosystems and these ecosystems include monsters and beasts that would easily rend a mortal body to shreds, which he does nothing to prevent should a mortal wander into his lands. He is worshiped by druids mainly, but has been known to take those who also refuse to conform to a mortal society into his good graces as well. His holy animal is the monkey.
Hesret The Hearthkeeper Hesret is the goddess of the home, and is also known as the goddess of safety. She is the patron of those that provide and care for others, and advocates endlessly for peace in the mortal realm. Her followers are known to provide for the weak and forgotten, and acts of charity and compassion without repayment are seen as worship for the goddess. She is known to be worshiped by a large variety of people-- any who wish for the safety and warmth of home, really. This includes mothers and caretakers, innkeeps and those that provide care for the injured and sick.
The next post will be about the player characters of the campaign, and what their deals are! Stay tuned!
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magic-in-onyx · 1 year ago
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Fakiru Week Day 3: Tie
Inscribe into the Oaken Tree  A tale of One, Two, Three:  One – tied to a debt most painful,  Two – tied to each other, faithful,  Three – tied to a Fate resentful. 
Then recite of Four, Five, Six:  Four – tied to a kingdom hollow,  Five – doomed a frail love to follow,  Six – tied to a father cruel, in his hand a bag of tricks. 
And seven is the Truth unseen. 
What you see cannot be seen.  What you hear makes no sound.  You must hear what mute remains.  You must see what stubbornly its mask maintains. 
The lovers true make their way ahead,  On their journey.  Upon one neck a jewel red,  Upon the other the gem is water clear. 
Two halves, a whole.  Two fates entwined.  Upright should they remain – trials overcome.  On their heads, astray – foolish designs, tragedy. 
One.  The man who should have died,  For his Moira a token he had found.  Clotho maintains a sacrifice profound,  A single duck in the webs it spins it had bound,  For no sin truly her own, save too soft a heart  – condemned and tried. 
The duck herself a foolish sort,  Willingly to the Spinner she had went,  A soul who once kind to her had been,  To save, rekindle, and court. 
But tied to him she could not remain,  So upon herself his freedom lost She had taken.  Still truly free he had not become,  Only desolate and remorseful.  Alas, in learning of this she – both!, would be delayed –  Betrayed!  A duck’s sacrifice in vain, kindness for kindness too great a cost. 
Four.  A man who should have died,  A storyteller he had been,  Of fae, brave heroes, but foes in fall belated,  His stories he had spun. 
A Prince he had envisioned,  Noble, kind, courageous;  In a plot the Spinner trapped him,  Vicious and disadvantageous!  “Heartless become thee!”, he commanded,  “Or as your foil and proxy, one other you must offer!”  A paradox, a paradigm most backhanded! 
The Prince chose his heart to fragment and scatter,  (For what other choice truly had he,)  Before his plan was soiled –  A duck with too soft a heart,  His place to take the words had uttered. 
The Prince’s blood and hers,  The blooming jewel of cruor formed,  Only by another lover true, could the curse  Be broken! 
Three.  One lost boy was saved,  Upon his shoulders a world’s weight.  A lone withdrawn creator,  Of destinies imagined,  Of fae, brave heroes, and foes abated. 
“Write!” he said, “for me a tale,  “To lead me from this town.  “Oh the stars, the moon, and Death itself,  “Guide mine path far, far the hills down!”  In doing so the Moirai he had challenged,  His Fate to the stars, the moon and Death he had tied!  His blood shared with an undead evil,  The scales for him in equal tip  To happiness,  To glory. 
He must hear what mute remains.  He  must see what stubbornly its mask maintains.  Seek he must, what buried is,  In the bog of Truth. 
Seven.  Before the very eyes  Of the creator still unripe,  The shy little Truth gives chase –  For the Truth is lonesome,  And when not sought, its cries  wake the Moirai. 
His lover to a waterfowl’s guise is reduced  As he watches awestruck;  Before fully she would change forms,  Urge him she does, with some luck:  “Seek a kingdom hollow!  “Seek a lover frail!  “Inscribed into the Oak Tree,  “Track the Tale of One, Two, Three!” 
One – tied to a debt most painful,  Two – tied to each other, faithful,  Three – tied to a Fate resentful. 
Then recite of Four, Five, Six:  Four – tied to a kingdom hollow,  Five – doomed a frail love to follow,  Six – tied to a father cruel, in his hand a bag of tricks. 
And seven is the Truth unseen. 
To him who accepts all, happiness.  To him who defies all, glory.
**
&lt;Prev> <Next>
AO3
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michael-drummey · 5 years ago
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Achilles x Patroclus Explained: for anyone who needs it plainly mapped out for them one more time.
The Iliad:
-Most obviously there is a Special Relationship between Achilles x Patroclus
-Achilles and Patroclus share a Bed & Tent, Patroclus also does all the  “domestic” work for the 2 of them on top of being a soldier
-”But he had Briseis who he was going to marry”, despite only bragged about her because she was a war prize taken by Agamemnon thus taking his honor, he was “locker room talking for the boys” when in reality he had no sexual contact/dimension/relationship with her yet. He also knew the prophecy he wasn’t coming back from Troy so this is one of two reasons we can say that they have no plans together, (see bullet point one for second reason) and then later he wishes Artemis had killed her way back when they were raiding cities. It is also inferable that Patroclus had planted this seed of thought in her mind to put her at ease with Achilles as well as protect his honor because Patroclus is always there for Achilles (Achilles does take Briseis into his bed in Book 24 but again totally as a spoil of war... she is a conquest not a lover)
-Greeks know Achilles will only listen to Patroclus, Especially Nestor who goes to Patroclus to persuade Achilles to re-enter the fight
-When Achilles receives Patroclus’s body his first thought is to end himself with a sword because he does not want to live in a world without Patroclus
-Achilles’s rage at the death of Patroclus and wishing he had let all the Greeks die and they conquered Troy together
-Refusal to eat & sleep while weeping for days on end in bed with Patroclus’s body
-Andromache’s speech about Hector, forsaking all her other loved ones for her husband, aka her one true love and then Achilles giving the almost exact same speech right after about Patroclus his “beloved”
-Achilles kills Hector (Gods even fear his rage and that such emotion could cause war to end before prophesied) aka Achilles could change fate because he so “grieved” for Patroclus - totally homies right?!
-Achilles drags Hectors body from his chariot damaging and defiling the corpse for days; Angering the gods, to which he doesn’t care
-Thetis then comes to Achilles, to which he wants none of her comfort, during their conversation she also has to suggest AND specify for him to now have sex with a woman and maybe find a wife before his life is over (why does she have to specify “woman” & who/what was keeping him from getting a wife)
-Achilles tosses and turns sleeplessly (body of Patroclus is still kept in his bed) and he longs for Patroclus’s “μένος” (menos) which in ancient greek translates to “Might - Manhood - Vigor - Semen” plainly speaking “Spunk” (both kinds!)
-Achilles reaches to embrace the ghost of Patroclus when he appears before him - desiring to physically touch 
-Achilles plays the role of the woman and/or wife of the deceased when they burn Patroclus’s body on the funeral pyre and then collects the ashes himself and puts them in the golden urn. Achilles then charges the men to do the same to him when he dies putting his ashes in the same golden urn and burying them together so that they will physically be together for all eternity - which does happen
-LITERALLY ACHILLES x PATROCLUS
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Most Ancient Greeks, Shakespeare, Artists & Intellectuals:
ACTUAL Greek Artwork from 500 BCE (currently resides on display in Germany)
-There is no reference to this moment in any record or story. In this depiction Achilles wraps Patroclus’s arm while he sits between his open legs, and Patroclus lets his dick hang out, while Achilles’s is visible as well, super intimate for “bros”
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-Later greeks assumed or imagined their relationship as Pederastic (An older “erastes” lover & an “eromenos” younger beloved) because that was the norm of that period but no one could definitely decide who was the top and who was the bottom 
**SIDE NOTE They do not have an age gap to support the Pederastic Theory AND after the pederastic relationship ended the men involved married women which we know neither Achilles nor Patroclus had nor plans to do
-Plato totally thought Achilles was a Bottom in his “Symposium” 
-Aeschylus (the literal inventor of Greek Tragedy) portrayed Achilles & Patroclus as lovers in his lost play “The Myrmidons” which was based on The Iliad. Surviving lines from the play are of Achilles speaking of “Patroclus’s Reverent Company, his thighs, and being ungrateful for many kisses”
-345 BCE = Athenian politician, Aeschines states in a speech during his trial that Homer didn’t have to say what they were because 1. the Greeks were more sexually fluid then 2. there wasn’t a word for “Homosexual” 3. Homer was a storyteller and ANY educated man knew what they were, like its THAT obvious
-Alexander the Great and his lover Haphaestion (this is a whole other can of worms still being fought) liked to think of themselves, and referred to each other as “Achilles & Patroclus”
-Shakespeare features the two in his play “Troilus and Cressida” in which Patroclus is called “Achilles’s Brach” aka “Achilles’s Bitch”
-Renaissance Artists & those onward armed with their skill, knowledge, and obsession with all things ancient painted numerous depictions of the two, usually scenes of Achilles receiving Patroclus’s body, and for “buddies” they sure love painting them showing A LOT of skin
-By roughly the 1960′s & 70′s historians and scholars started talking about them openly again with the
“ARE WE READY TO STOP PLAYIN’ AND OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGE THEM AS ‘YOU KNOW’”
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  All joking aside we still have a select number of Historians, Scholars, and Hollywood still holding out:
-What about Briseis!? (see above) they both also do sleep with a woman each but sadly here they are seen more as conquest and war prizes than actual lovers - again there is a fluidity
-Achilles was a HERO! Best of the Greeks -He’s always shown as A MAN’S MAN! YET in a separate myth (see Achilleid) his mother Thetis was able to hide him among a group of girly girls on Skyros to which he was perfectly disguised and has a one night stand with the princess again showing their regard for sexual fluidity. ALSO Do not disrespect that he was a manly hero and a femboy! This also explains how his son comes to be - again this is a completely separate myth and origin
-Could they be cousins!? (NO)
-**Closing Eyes** Homo-erotic? WHERE? “Item Not Found”
-”Well all we can say, there is no source, Homer never explicitly stated that Achilles and Patroclus were a couple or had a sexual relationship that we can find in the source material so... I am choosing to ignore all context and blatant evidence, as well have no heterosexual explanation for them either...  you’re just reading into it too much”:
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EVERYONE who has a brain and has read The Iliad:
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As for myself having read the Iliad, studied this Art, History, and Culture, as well as having a BFA; when you know, YOU KNOW. Feel free to share, use this as inspiration to read “The Iliad” if you haven’t already, think critically, and study up on your own!
IN CONCLUSION = THEY GAY & THE OTP !!
(Highly Suggest “The Song of Achilles” as well)
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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago
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Hidden (Kim Hongjoong) Rated
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Pairing: Soccer Jock! Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)× Nerd! Reader (Female)
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst, College AU.
Summary: There's nothing that makes Hongjoong feel better after a game than to spend it with his secret girlfriend.
Word Count: 3.5+K
Warnings: male breast play (we love the hiddies), light gropings, dry humping, light degradation, corruption kink, unprotected soft, vanilla sex (always use protection), dom! Hongjoong, sub/slightly inexperienced reader.
Taglist: @seacottons (I wrote this for you ♡), @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @galaxteez @hanatiny @deja-vux @brie02 @multidreams-and-desires @daniblogs164 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny
•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•––––☆––––•
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and cheers when their prized center forward kicked the ball with full force into the opposing team's goal, effectively allowing them to take victory over another college from the area. His teammates hoisted the bleach blonde male over their shoulders, parading him around the field and letting the spectators admire him once more. The athlete shyly smiled and gave tiny waves towards the crowd. His eyes passed through all the rows of people standing about, searching and scanning for a particular person he hoped would come to see him.
Once he spotted a familiar red plain hoodie tucked near the very end of the bleachers, his smile grew even wider and he even felt bold enough to send a wink their way, the tiny group of admirers sitting nearby mistakenly thinking it was directed at them. The figure in the hoodie tried not to let any suspicious look give her away, but even she couldn't stop the faint pink hue that appeared on the apples of her cheeks. He mouthed a few words to her, which she understood to mean for her to wait for him at a certain place while he went to go get changed. Quickly picking up her bag, she made way to step down the bleachers, but unfortunately for her the little group of popular girls had the same idea, thus ending in one of them bumping into her rather harshly and sending her crashing down onto the concrete stairs that allowed one to get out of the spectator area.
The soccer player of course saw this and slightly hissed when he watched her palms come out instinctively to lessen her fall, only imagining the stinging sensation they went through. He then turned his attention to the tiny clique leader who looked completely unapologetic, her mouth saying something that he couldn't quite make out, but judging from the way her little minions snickered and laughed, he deduced it was only another one of the usual jabs they liked to fling at the poor girl. And he hated it, the scowl clearly visible on his face. Just when he was about to turn around and give them a piece of his mind, the victim looked up and gestured for him not to intervene and just run along to the showers. He hesitated briefly until she once again assured him she was fine, getting up and quickly escaping before another accident occurred.
Left with no choice but to follow her instructions, the soccer player joined the others in the showers to freshen up after a long and arduous game. He made sure to be quick about it, as he wanted to go check up on her injuries as soon as possible. After drying off completely, he stuffed all his belongings into his bag without caring to check if he was crushing anything and sped out of there. Along the way to the place where he parked his car, he only waved at his fellow classmates and belatedly ignored the prissy bullies that caused the incident back at the bleachers.
"Snakes." He mumbled to himself as he passed by them.
Rounding a tiny corner of the building, he took out his keys and unlocked his car, looking around in confusion when he didn't see the person he was expecting anywhere nearby. Hearing a tiny rustling of leaves, he rolled his eyes when he finally realized they were hiding behind the hedge that decorated the stairs that led one inside the building.
"There's no one else around, now come out of there before the groundskeeper finds out you were messing up his artistic shrubbery." He called out as he walked over to the hedge.
Peeping her head out, the girl looked right then left to make sure he wasn't lying before throwing one leg over the green barrier, trying to get out. It definitely proved more difficult getting out than getting in, as her foot accidentally got stuck when she tried to swing her other leg out. She grunted softly as she tried to yank her foot out, which she eventually accomplished but with how hard she pulled she was thrown off balance. Had the male behind her not have run up to catch her, she would have surely hit her head on the floor. Luckily he had indeed caught her before such tragedy occurred. Looking up, his unamused face was bearing down on her.
"Thanks?" She sheepishly said.
"Don't mention it honey bunch." He snorted when she frowned at one of the many nicknames he enjoyed teasing her with.
"Don't start now Kim Hongjoong." She grumbled with a huff as she sat upright.
When she turned around, she had no chance to say or do anything as he took her hands and made her palms face him. Hongjoong sighed when he saw the tiny scrapes on her fragile skin.
"I'll be fine. It's just a scratch." She asserted before he got anymore upset.
"These 'scratches', and the mean names, wouldn't happen at all if only you'd let people know about us."
She recoiled slightly at his words. He was right, she knew that. Still, she was hesitant about letting the entire school know about their secret relationship, something that he was more than eager about sharing. But he respected her need and wanting of privacy, even if it irritated slightly at times.
"I'll be fine Hongjoong. Really... their words don't bother me anymore. And besides, I'd rather not have all eyes at me at every moment. I like being an invisible wallflower." She repeated what she often said.
He understood her, but couldn't help the sigh that came out his lips.
"Honestly L/N Y/N, I don't know what to do with you sometimes." He confessed as he turned her palms over, his eyes focusing on her left hand. Or more precisely, on the black promise ring that was wrapped around her left finger. He smiled softly as he rubbed his thumb over it, knowing that on the inside of it, his name was engraved in white, followed by his birthstone in the shape of a heart. He wore a similar one around his neck, held up by chain that dangled right above his chest, close to his heart. Only the one he wore was a white band and had his lover's name in black with her own birthstone on it. It was a present he had bought for their 1 year anniversary, which had happened not too long ago. Every time he saw her wear it, he felt a warm and tranquil feeling in his soul. He himself never took off the chain off his neck, only when he needed to shower and even then, he made sure to never misplace it.
It was a somewhat nostalgic feeling, standing there, holding her hands kinda like the first time he worked up the courage to come up to her and state his interest in dating her. Even to that day, he couldn't believe she would have actually agreed. He was so happy and full of bliss at having her that he couldn't help himself as he closed his eyes and began leaning his face towards hers. His girlfriend widened her eyes and let out a muffled shriek before pulling away from him. Hongjoong grunted angrily as he walked after her towards his car.
"It's not a crime to kiss my girlfriend in public you know." He exclaimed.
"Someone might see us." She kindly reminded him.
Throwing his hands up in frustration, Hongjoong was about to start nagging but opted for taking a deep breath instead to calm down.
"Ok fine, but once we get behind closed doors, I'm expecting a lot of cuddles and smooches from you. You've been giving me the cold treatment at school even beyond what we agreed on and I'm slightly hurt." He pouted as he turned on the ignition.
Shaking her head, Y/N leaned over and placed a peck on Hongjoong's cheek.
"Ok you baby. Only because you were amazing on the field today."
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Safe in the sanctuary and privacy of her apartment, Y/N couldn't hold herself back now as she tangled her limbs around her boyfriend, face pressed against his chest. Hongjoong couldn't stop himself from snorting when he felt her cheek rubbed against one of his protruding pectoral muscles. The arm that was stationed around her frame came up to lightly scratch the back of her head.
"Having fun there you cuddle bug?" He raised an eyebrow at her when she snuggled closer to him.
"Hmmm yeah. Your man boobs make such comfortable pillows." She beamed as she reached one hand up to caress the muscle that her face wasn't buried in.
"They are not boobs Y/N. We've been over this how many times?" He dropped his head back onto the pillow as he released an exhausted and frustrated groan.
Feeling a bit on the bolder side that evening, Y/N shifted her weight over so she was fully laying on top of him.
"If they're not boobs, how come I can do this?"
Hongjoong half gasped- half moaned when he felt his girlfriend's mouth part and latched onto one of his highly sensitive nipples. Of course his girlfriend took advantage of this little fact, suckling onto his skin in a tender manner. Hongjoong lost himself in the feeling of her tongue flicking at his hardened peaks, closing his eyes as she kept on enveloping his buds with her warm mouth, first one breast then moving to the other one. This time her suction was a little more rough, teeth baring to lightly bite on the skin around his nipple. Hongjoong obviously didn't mean and was thoroughly enjoying the more harsher treatment as he began bucking his hips up against hers, his tent brushing against her folds which were only covered by her cotton underwear.
Satisfied at being able to rile her boyfriend up, Y/N sat up with a smirk as she peered down at Hongjoong's dazed look. Before he could get a word out, his girlfriend begin grinding herself against his bulge, her hands steadying themselves on his lean but firm abs. Hongjoong looked up at her, his eyes glowing with the same lust that mirrored in her own. Not able to bear to leave her in charge, his hands came up to grip her hips, forcing her to stop momentarily before they started taking control of her movements. He guided her so every time her clothed mound would rub against his tent they would both feel the best friction between them. Not only was he in full control of her body rolls, he made sure to lift his hips up so she would feel him even more. The air around them thickened as their sexual tension grew more and more, their once soft sighs turning more into heavy panting as they both waited for the other one to give in and say they wanted more than just the semi clothed dry humping they were currently doing.
Y/N knew fully well Hongjoong wouldn't say anything, it was in his nature. He'd just keep donning that signature smirk he was hailing at her at the moment as he continued to grind himself up at her. She knew he wanted her to tell him how much she wanted him, as a form of payback for not acknowledging him back at the university. She wanted to play at his game, keep her mouth shut and even get off him only to leave him frustrated and aching. But she had no will or mind to do that. Not when her body yearned for his, cried out to have him pin her to the bed as he tore through her intimate places. She couldn't hold back any longer, her bottom lip was starting to hurt from how hard she was biting down on it.
"What's wrong babygirl? Something on your mind? Do you want something?" He teased her as he moved his hands to cup her ass, fingers digging into her flesh and brushing against the hem of her panties.
"Hongjoong... I want...I want.." Even after having done this quite a few times, she was still very nervous and shy about requesting such things from him.
"Use your words darling, I know you can use them. After all, you're the smartest person in school. So tell me...."
Sitting up so he could lean his face close to hers, Hongjoong brushed his lips against hers, replacing her teeth with his own as he tugged at the corner where she had been biting on just a few seconds ago.
"What do you want?" He asked once more, hands going underneath her shirt so they could fondle her perky breasts, a satisfied grin lightly appearing on his face when he discerned the subtle whine that came from her throat.
"You, I want you." She finally answered, her arms wrapping around his neck as she closed the space between them and kissed him passionately.
Their tongues tangled themselves together in a desperate and slightly sloppy fashion. Flipping their positions, Hongjoong carefully laid Y/N down on the mattress, never once breaking their kiss even when his hand dropped down to tug her underwear down her legs. She helped him out by lifting her hips up and was about to pull the hoodie over her head, but Hongjoong stopped her.
"No baby. Keep it on. You look more adorable wearing my clothes." Briefly pulling away from her, he had a cocky smile as he rid himself out of his own boxers.
"Even if I do enjoy taking them off you." He admitted with no shame, which didn't surprise her.
Prying her legs open so he could fit himself between them, Hongjoong peppered butterfly kisses across her forehead and temples, sighing blissfully as he aligned himself at her entrance.
"I love you." He always made sure to state those 3 words before they got lost in their love.
"I know. I love you too." She responded.
Satisfied at hearing his confession being reciprocated, Hongjoong slowly pushed himself inside her, always taking care to be gentle as his lovely girlfriend wasn't as experienced as he was. He let her walls adjust to the intrusion of his member as he busied himself by kissing along the side of her neck and near her jaw while his thumbs rubbed circles on her waist. Y/N took a deep breath and lightly tapped his arm, a sign for him to start moving.
Hongjoong started off with slow and deep strokes, making sure to angle his hips properly so his head would brush against that sweet spot that would have the girl underneath him crying out his name. Y/N's eyes dropped down to look in between their bodies, always fascinated by the image of Hongjoong's cock disappearing inside her. One of her hands came up and slid underneath her covered stomach, a soft gasp escaping her lips when she felt her boyfriend's bulge poke out from under her skin. Noticing this, Hongjoong chuckled softly.
"You like that baby? Like feeling my cock deep inside of you?"
She could only respond with a light nod of her head as she released a faint moan that turned louder when Hongjoong abruptly slammed back into her at a quicker pace.
"You feel so good around me love. You're so tight, warm, and soft- fuck! I can't get enough of you." He hissed as he continued to roll his hips into her.
Y/N loved hearing him say things like that to her. Hearing him say how much he wanted her, it turned her into puddy. However, there was something she had been meaning to ask him to try but didn't know how to approach the topic. Figuring it was the best opportunity then, she looked up at him with large eyes.
"Hongjoong? Can we try something tonight?"
His eyes instantly lit up when she asked that, always eager to satisfy anything she was curious about or wanted to try.
"Of course. Anything you want." He assured her.
"Then can you..... can you degrade me a little?"
Hongjoong suddenly stopped moving and blinked at her with a worried expression on his face. Y/N wondered if maybe she shouldn't have asked that given his reaction. She watched as Hongjoong's bottom lip poked out in a light pout.
"Baby why on earth would you want something like that?" He tilted his head at you.
"I just.... I want you to call me your bad girl." She muttered softly, feeling embarrased at declaring that.
Hongjoong let out a heavy sigh as he cupped her cheeks and squished her face.
"But you're not a bad girl darling. You're my good girl. My sweet, kind and obedient angel who doesn't misbehave or cause trouble." He reasoned with her as he planted his lips on her cheek.
Y/N let out a tiny huff as she began to think she would not be getting what she was hoping for.
"That's what everybody else thinks....don't they?" She could hear and feel the shift in Hongjoong's mood, confirmed even further when he suddenly clasped her wrists and pinned them above her head as he started moving once again, only this time it was a more rough and fast pace. He stared down at Y/N with a hungry gaze, tongue poking out to lick his lips as he slammed his hips deeper in her.
"Got everybody in school fooled thinking you're such a goody two shoes, little miss perfect who is oh so sweet, innocent and pure, has never even kissed anyone."
Hongjoong smirked mischievously, pausing briefly before continuing.
"How do you think they'll react when they found out I ruined you? What will they say about the fact you opened your legs for me and allowed me to steal your virginity?"
Y/N threw her head back against the pillow and groaned loudly. It was true, she had let Hongjoong take away her purity a few months back. It wasn't anything she regretted, she loved and trusted him enough to give herself up to him, and she knew the feeling was mutual with him. And now to have him use that against her at that moment, to remind her of it, it felt amazing.
"What will your parents say? Their perfect daughter not only dating behind their back but actually letting her boyfriend stay over with her and fuck her into the sheets. Bet they'd be mad, bet they'll hate me for tainting their precious little angel." He laughed in a mocking tone.
Y/N's moaning now turned to whining and whimpering, her legs wrapping around Hongjoong's waist when the unrelenting tempo of his thrusts was threatening to throw her over the edge. Hongjoong knew this too given he felt everytime she clenched around his shaft, her walls squeezing onto him as if her life depended on it. He muffled his raspy pants when his lips attacked her mouth once more, his pecks aggresive and teeth nipping at her bottom lip.
"And so many guys will be jealous. You don't know but I've overheard even some of my teammates whisper about how they wanted to rob you of your innocence. Hell, I know for a fact even some of the professors wanted to shove their cocks inside your little pussy." As he dished out those tiny secrets she never knew about, Hongjoong's pounding became more harsh and he snarled with jealousy at the thought of anyone else looking at his prized possession in an erotic way.
Y/N clung onto him as she was on the brink of topping over, nails raking along his back.
"But they'll never get a chance because you're mine. All mine. This pussy of yours is mine. I claimed it a while back and only I get to fuck it. It's mine..... you're mine."
Unable to contain herself anymore, Y/N softly cried out Hongjoong's name as her body started twitching underneath his, face heating up as her juices pooled down her body. With only a few more strokes, Hongjoong himself was shooting his own cum into her, letting out shaky breaths that matched hers, their bodies collapsing on the bed as they tried to recover from the orgasm they just had.
After a few minutes and with his heartbeat back to normal, Hongjoong looked over at the girl beside him. Taking her hand, he held her arm up and aligned it with his so that the matching couple tattoos they got the month before would connect. It was a rather simple and subtle design, both of their wrists decorated with a beach wave that to anyone else wouldn't look out of place or arouse suspicions, but when they held it against each other, the waves formed a heart, which was exactly what Hongjoong was admiring at the moment. Rolling her over so she was facing him, he grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his waist so it would be easier to slip himself back inside the warmth of her walls. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, both of their eyes closing as they began to drift into a serene sleep, safe in each other's arms.
"I love you munchkin." He giggled when her hand smacked his chest.
"Don't start or else you're sleeping on the couch."
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suspensionbridges · 2 years ago
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I've been thinking about how the show might handle Madeleine.
The discord between Claudia and Louis at the start of their 'escape' would help motivate her in that direction, even if aging her up seems at first to take away the need for Madeleine.
Let's assume Claudia and Louis meet both the eastern European vampires and the Paris coven and she's disappointed by them all. Especially disappointed by seeing Louis flee from one controlling vampire to fall for another.
So her mindset shifts from "let's meet vampires worthy of your love" to "we can make a vampire who is worthy (like us)". Particularly, one who can be her companion and hers alone.
Now, who will Madeleine be? Not a young dollmaker who is mourning her lost child. This Claudia does not want to be viewed as a child by anyone anymore and, unlike her book counterpart, is not (as?) desirous of someone she can completely control.
What is Claudia missing? Definitely a female figure in her life. Her mother died in childbirth, her auntie was mean. Then she was made into a vampire and raised in the dark gift by two men. She went through a hypersexual phase but that seems to have passed. Claudia is no longer seeking a lover and seemed to happily settle into platonic companionship with Louis. (Which isn't to say she couldn't seek that out again. But...)
Madeleine as a black woman: middle-aged, so as to be similar in age to Claudia, but one who has grown up in body as well as mind, experienced more of human life, and is able to share with Claudia what she hasn't known. There would be something so precious and revelatory in Claudia finding someone who could validate her in a way Louis and Lestat never could. This Madeleine recounting her own wild puberty and growth into womanhood in such a way that, minus the body count and trophies, reaches into Claudia's soul and says: you're not alone, other girls went through that shit too.
Until recently, she might have had a big family or been part of a larger community. So that she has maternal instincts to develop a bond with Claudia but she's no longer tied to the mortal coil. Or maybe those ties still exist when Claudia meets her but a tragedy strikes to take them away. (Not hard to imagine the how during WWII.) Her turning could even parallel Claudia's, in a way that helps Claudia let Louis go with less bitterness.
If anyone else has conjectured about Madeleine, let me know! I'm curious what the fandom is thinking.
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somewhatgreatexpectations · 4 years ago
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For The Lover That I Lost (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)
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Hello! Welcome to part 9, inspired by Sam Smith’s “For the Lover That I Lost”. This now takes place post-civil war. 
Summary: Y/n and Wanda are finally able to talk. Will the talk end in love or tragedy?
“All of the memories feel like magic, all of the fighting seemed so sweet. All that we were, my love, was tragic and you're the last thing that I need.”
“Do you think we could have that talk now?”
For a moment you just stared at the clouds floating past the small window you were seated by and let the question hang in the air. She had given you space for a few hours, but you knew this moment was bound to come. 
The problem was that your healing was precarious, you knew that, and you didn’t know if it could withstand a conversation that was sure to open the wounds you had spent months patching up. 
“Y/n?” Wanda called, cautiously placed a hand on your shoulder. 
With a deep breath you turned your body to face her. “I thought about it, and I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Wanda.” You answered honestly. 
Her brow furrowed slightly, “I understand your hesitation, but-“
“Look, Wanda, allow me to save you the trouble.” You began steadily, “You’re sorry for how everything happened. I accept your apology. You don’t want to lose me from your life. Give me some time and then we’ll work on rebuilding the friendship. Did I get everything?”
She stared at you, her eyes troubled. “Well, not exactly, I was trying to-“
Once again, you interrupted her. “And I won’t stand between you and Vision.”  You added with a snap, as if you had just remembered something important. 
“Will you stop interrupting me?” Wanda exclaimed, shocking you into silence. “Sorry, I just-… I forgot how stubborn you can be.” She rubbed her arm in embarrassment. 
You stared at her silently, granting her wish of no interruptions. Waiting for her to get to her point, that you still weren’t sure you wanted to hear. 
As you observed her, you noticed the way she nervously spun the ring she was wearing on her finger while she seemed to ponder where to begin. “Have you always done that?” you gestured to her hands, unable to stop yourself from asking.
Her eyebrows raised at your question, obviously not expecting it. “I…” she thought about it for a moment, then ducked her head slightly. “I guess it was something that I picked up from you. For so long, your nerves were intertwined with my own that it just became a habit from watching you, I guess.” She mumbled.
You bit your lip and nodded but said nothing, taking note of how her eyes closely observed the action. You gestured for her to go on.
Wanda took a deep, steadying breath, making sure she maintained eye contact with you. “First, I am no longer with Vision. I haven’t been for months.” Your eyebrows raised curiously. “You were right though, part of what I wanted to talk about was how sorry I am. Y/n, I am, so, so, sorry. You deserved so much more than what I gave you. I don’t expect you to forgive me because I certainly don’t forgive myself.” The sincerity in her voice took you by surprise. 
The glassy look in her eyes and prominence of her accent were tell-tale signs of how upset she was. It was information you wished you didn’t know anymore. You dropped your gaze to your lap, it was easier this way.
“There is no excuse-“ she continued until a quiet knock on the wall made her stop. You both looked over to see a sheepish looking Steve Rogers standing a few feet away. 
“Sorry to interrupt. Again.” He coughed awkwardly. “I just wanted to let you know we’ve landed at our temporary hide-out. It’s that house up in the distance.” He gestured vaguely as the door to the quinjet opened to reveal an open field with an unsuspecting two-story house located in the center.
Under normal circumstances you would have thought it was a beautiful sight. The knowledge that you were all there on the run, tarnished that though. You let out a quiet breath. “It’s beautiful. Where exactly are we?”
“Spain. A very rural area at that.” He replied easily.
Despite the view, Wanda couldn’t take her eyes off you. She needed to talk to you uninterrupted and it seemed as though the universe was actively trying to prevent that from happening. All she could do was hope that this wasn’t an omen. That she still had a chance. 
“How long will we be here?” Wanda questioned, finally tearing her eyes away from you.
At the question, Steve shifted in discomfort. “A few days... if that. When Natasha arrives, it’ll be best if we split into small groups at most. We’re wanted fugitives now.”
“Natasha?” you asked with a tilt of your head, distinctly remembering her on Tony’s side.
Steve nodded. “She helped me and Bucky get out. She’s wanted now too.”
Both you and Wanda shared a look of surprise, Wanda speaking up before you could say anything. “Thank you for the update, Steve. We’ll meet the rest of you inside.”
With a knowing nod, Steve took the hint and turned to catch up with Sam who had already began walking ahead. “Guess we better head out.” you mumbled.
“Can we take a walk before we go in? I’d really like to finish our conversation.” Wanda requested hesitantly, her eyes pleading.
With another steadying breath, you nodded. She seemed determined and obviously wasn’t going to let this go. “Okay, Wanda.” You stood up and walked with her out of the quinjet, veering to a small path that was on the side of the house rather than going inside. 
After walking a decent amount, Wanda stopped and took your hand, effectively stopping you as well. You looked at her expectantly. She decided she couldn’t handle another interruption and decided to just be bold. “You’re the love of my life.”
Her words were so unexpected that you just stared at her for a moment, opening and closing your mouth as you tried to process. “I’m sorry, what?” you eventually choked out.
“You are the love of my life.” She repeated with three light squeezes to your hand. “Pushing you away – not fighting for you – was the biggest mistake of my life. A mistake I never plan on making again. I was confused and thought that my powers were tied to my heart. I was wrong. The only person that has ever held my heart and will ever hold my heart is you. I want to grow old with you. I want you for the rest of my life.” Her words were passionate and desperate as she tried to express the true contents of her heart, hoping you’d believe her. 
Disbelief was the only thing you could feel as you watched her shimmering eyes remain on yours. Shortly following the break-up you had dreamed of a moment like this. Not anymore though. You couldn’t. You had spent months learning to live without her. The risk of allowing her back into your heart came at much too high a cost. You wouldn’t recover a second time. “I-I learned to live without you, Wanda. I can’t risk it with you again. I’ve played before and lost.” You answered, finally pulling your hand out of her grasp. 
“Do you still love me?” she asked in a pleading tone, ignoring your words. She took your hands back in hers, you noticed that they were shaking ever so slightly. “Tell me you still love me. Please.”
You swallowed thickly and met her eyes, “I don’t love you anymore.” You said weakly, so weakly that you didn’t even believe it yourself. 
Wanda shook her head, clearly on the verge of tears. “I don’t believe you. I know you still love me. A love like ours doesn’t just go away. I love you, Y/n. Let me show you.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she took your face in her hands and connected your lips passionately.
Wanda sighed contently at the contact she had been missing, the way you both fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. The rush of electricity was a feeling she longed for. Getting swept up in the moment, you returned her kiss temporarily before the shock wore off and the hurt settled once again. 
Pushing at her shoulders you quickly stepped back. “You can’t just kiss me and expect everything to go away, Wanda.” You shouted at her. “I think I should go.” You mumbled turning to leave.
Watching you walk away again was a nightmare vision to Wanda and she would be damned if she gave up so easily again. She ran and stopped so she was directly in your path, preventing you from going any further. “Y/n, please, I can’t imagine my life without you” The tears she had been holding back bubbled over the surface and fell down her cheeks. You fought the urge to brush them away.
“You know, I used to think of you as the person that I was going to spend the rest of my life with too. As somebody who would never hurt me. Ever.” Wanda listened to you quietly as tears flowed more steadily down her cheeks. “Now all I see when I look at you is that last moment on the roof. Of you with him. It doesn’t matter what you say, or what you do… it’s too late.”
A sob escaped Wanda’s lips as she briefly covered her face with her hands. “Y/n, please… This can’t be it.”
“It is though.” Blinking back tears, you moved to step around her. 
“Y-you’re a coward!” She cried after you, at your retreating figure. The pain clear in her voice. 
Anger quickly replaced the anguish at her words. You spun around to face her, her jaw clenched. You couldn’t believe her. “I’m the coward? No, Wanda, you are!” you shouted back.
The woman in question ran a hand through her hair, tears falling even faster. She seemed at a loss. “You’re the one that chose to run instead of staying and fighting!” 
Her words made something in you crack, she had no right to be angry. To pin the demise of what you both once were on you. “How is that fair?” you snapped at her. “I was supposed to stay and fight for someone who had very clearly decided they didn’t want me anymore? You don’t get to pardon yourself. The ashes of our relationship are on you and you alone.” You gritted out bitterly. 
For a moment she just stared at you, her chest heaving as she clutched at her chest. Almost as though your words physically impacted her. “I…I’m sorry.” she took a deep breath and recollected herself. She reached out to you, you stepped back. Her face contorted in pain at the knowledge that you didn’t want her anymore. 
“I know I don’t deserve it and you have no reason give it to me, but please, give us a second chance. Let me prove to you I mean what I say, to prove that you… you are everything. There will never be anyone else. I love you.” her eyes met yours pleadingly, slowly breaking before your very eyes.
You took your own deep breath and braced yourself for the words you were about to say. “Wanda, we don’t stand a chance. It’s sad, but it’s true. We’re bound to end in tragedy.” You said quietly, staring off in the distance because you weren’t sure you could handle watching her reaction. “It’s time to move on.”
Like a magnet though, your eyes found hers either way. 
Broken. That’s the only word that came to mind when you saw her expression. Broken sobs left her lips. Her eyes glistened as they desperately searched yours for something, something that you had blocked off long ago. “You don’t mean that.” She whispered, her lips trembling along with her words. 
You shut your eyes for a moment and prepared yourself to close the door on what you both had. “Goodbye, Wanda.” You whispered as you walked off without looking back.
If you did, you would have seen the way she fell to her knees. The knowledge that she had no one to blame for her own broken heart but herself bringing her to her knees. She buried her face in her hands as sobs wracked through her body. Longing for the comfort of your arms.
Silent tears rolled down your cheeks as you listened to the sound of her cries in the distance, but you knew it was for the best... At least you hoped it was.
That night Steve announced that it would be in everyone’s best interest to split up for the time being as he handed out older phones to everyone so each of you could be contacted and check in. After his announcement everyone retreated to their room. You quietly let Steve know where you planned on going and told no one else. 
As you discreetly prepared to leave the following morning, you found a dozen flowers at your door, half purple violets and half white dittanies. The memory of the last time you saw these flowers filled your mind bittersweetly. A memory that no longer felt like it belonged to you.
When Wanda awoke, she was disappointed to find the flowers she had gifted you back at her door and the room you were staying in empty. Even if her heart ached, she knew that she couldn’t give up. She’d try and try again because your love was worth fighting for and she wouldn’t let you go again. She was determined to spend the rest of her life trying to win you back if she had to. There was no other path for her.
And there we have chapter 9! Angst, angst, angst. I got a little carried away lol. Only 3 more to go, where do you think the reader and Wanda will go from here? As always, hope you all enjoyed and thoughts and comments always welcome. 
P.s. did anyone catch a hint of a different Sam Smith song in there? It may be a hint for the next chapter, it may not be. Still deciding. 
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sohin-ace · 3 years ago
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Rohan - It's got to be Rohan
This is inspired by something that just happened to Giovanna. I chose Rohan as the mysterious japanese man.
This is kind of crackfic-ey, it's not to be taken too seriously, I just had a moment with @gio-is-writing. Please don't expect any quality from this.
Also no beta, we die like men, we take it raw, my gangsters.
You were seated in the boarding room of the airport, rubbing your tired eyes. No matter how much you loved travelling and how relaxing your vacation was, you could never get used to the stress of boarding, moving around from one plane to the other and walking kilometers of huge airport grounds.
You barely had any sleep at all and your neck was killing you from the poor excuse of a nap you took in the preceeding plane. You felt like your head was about to fall off from your shoulders.
Now you could only wait for your seat number to be called for your next flight back home after another bizarre adventure.
You tried to mute out the dull background sound of people in the airport, staring out the large window right to the vast runway where workers were signaling pilots and directing planes to the parking zone and moving around to who knows where, making sure air traffic was fluid and secure.
Barely able to focus on the boring sight, your eyes instead fell upon not what was across the glass but rather was was reflecting it.
Right behind you was a young man, seated just there. You could make out his handsome features and beautiful face from where you were.
Now, you tried not to stare and act like a creep, but no matter what you did to distract yourself, your attention always came back to this beautiful stranger sitting so close behind you.
He seemed to be about your age, nicely-styled dark hair, and with very intriguing sharp eyes. He looked asian-phenotyped, but you could never be sure of his exact origins. You could only guess he was most likely japanese.
He had came from the same plane you just landed from and your departure destination was a place known to be popular amongst the Japanese population, so you speculated.
But how could you confirm? You could never just go talk to him. You just couldn't dare. You couldn't imagine walking up to random people asking them if they were japanese or not based on nothing concrete.
Talking to him was out of the question, you thought to yourself. He looked so handsome and intimidating. A normal, basic person like you couldn't just come up to him and strike a conversation, not even knowing if he spoke your language at all. You couldn't muster the courage to do so.
In a pit of despair, you thought of the brilliant idea of trying to peek at his phone discreetly through the glass reflection. Maybe you could see which language it was set in, clearing up the mystery once and for all.
... But all in vain unsurprisingly.
You rubbed your temples in frustration. You didn't know why you were suddenly so infatuated with this man, but for your defense, he was the most interesting thing in the boring, endless wait of your boarding.
Ah, yes. Like that could work. You just had a thing for coming up with clever ideas that you would never execute.
You thought. Hard. What would your best friend do in this situation? Maybe you should just throw logic out the window and punch him in the face for daring intruding your already fragile peace of mind.
Or maybe on the other end of the spectrum you should go out there and kiss him until he doesn't remember his own name.
Sighing at your own very stupid and mindless thoughts, blaming boredom and exhaustion for them, you glanced back at whatever just made noise somewhere in the boarding room.
It seemed like the mysterious supposedly Japanese stranger had the same idea and glanced behind him, your eyes meeting for a brief moment.
You couldn't help but take in his features once again, this time even more clearly. His eyes were greener than emeralds and his skin looked as gentle and heavenly as porcelain. You couldn't believe how soft yet inexpressive he actually looked like from this close.
You even took in his strange bandana, suddenly curious about the odd shape and thinking that could make for a great conversation starter. Nothing weird about asking some stranger about their fashion, right?
But alas, before you could even think about opening your mouth, the beautiful man had already turned back around to mind his own business.
You pouted, thinking of the lost opportunity. The butterflies in your stomach and the burning warmth in your cheeks completely staining your proper judgement on the situation.
Oh you two must be meant for each other. You looked back at the same time, your eyes met. That was a sign, you could already hear the wedding bells singing your union. Your heart was stammering.
Oh you couldn't wait to tell your best friend all about this fictional husband you haven't even talked to at the airport, knowing they would absolutely approve of your ectoplasmic relationship and would root for you all the way, like the supportive friend they were.
You stood up. Maybe you could walk around a bit in his direction, pretending you had something to check somewhere farther in the boarding room, motivated by your own inside pep-talks.
You had no idea what you were doing but you hoped to get his attention somehow. Who knew what could happen. There were plenty of people out there having incredible stories straight out of movies where they found love in such improbable ways, meeting people from across the world once and ending up meeting them again in impossible circumstances or somesuch.
Maybe the little child inside you wanted to live that kind of fantasy as well.
You suddenly regretted looking so awful today. Make up and hair barely done and hardly bothered to put on nice clothes for the sake of comfort and practicity on a long and tiring trip.
Trying to act as nonchalant as ever yet still elegant, you slightly turned back around, only to realize you couldn't see him anymore.
...What? What was going on? What happened? Did he leave? Was his seat called while you were turned around?
Your heart pounded in anxiety, aching for a moment, thinking it was over. That you had lost him forever. Your one true love. The delusional love of your life. The man of your dreams. A nameless soulmate that you knew nothing about, yet that you would trade everything for, even your life.
Your lips threatened to twitch as your held back tears, regretting every decision in your life that had led you to this suffering, this tragedy. God, why did love hurt so much? Why did you have to be the one to go through this?
"Why..." You sobbed dramatically in the middle of the boarding room, walking shamefully as your heart bled. "Why did you go... Why did you have to leave me- Oh... Nevermind he's right there."
Your theatrical number instantly switched as soon as you realised you had just wandered too far and were actually walking in the wrong aisle, quickly coming back to where your and his seat were.
You did not care for the strange looks you were receiving from people sitting by who thought you were completely mental, which you probably were.
All that mattered, is that your handsome Japanese prince charming, your very own 'Ouji-sama' was right here, looking as beautiful as ever, staring down at his device and completely ignoring your entire existence.
As soon as you got back to where your belongings were, extremely frustrated with your imaginary lover's sheer obliviousness, you heard the echoed sound of the boarding room speakers call your name.
'Passenger L/N Y/N. L/N Y/N seat B-17, is requested for boarding. Please present yourself at the gate immediately."
Your mother, much more reactive than you, hurried to gather your luggage and walked towards the gate where you were expected.
You grabbed your bag from your seat and instantly noticed the object of your obssession stand up, briefly staring at his boarding pass in hand, confirming his own seat number.
He looked up and sent you an effortlessly handsome look, staring down at you for a moment and you swore you saw his eyes widen for a split second before returning back to his resting sharp look.
You blushed and flinched at his intense gaze, feeling squirmy under his scrutinizing eyes. You didn't know what to do with your hands and averted your eyes, deciding to join your mother who was already waiting in line.
'W-w-what the hell?' You panicked as he elegantly strided in your direction, his expensive-looking clothes framing his body so perfectly he looked like some Versace supermodel. 'Is he... Following me or something?! No way...'
Just as you thought he was about to board in the same plane as you, bringing your hopes up, he talked to one of the airline agents.
"I'm so sorry sir. We indeed called the seat B-17, but it's for the flight GW3180. For your flight you need to go to that boarding room, on the far left." The lady instructed, giving him thorough indications as he nodded in understanding.
You slumped your shoulders in defeat. He wouldn't board the same plane as you, he just got mistaken. Of course, you thought unsurprised, he would probably go back to Japan, he had no reason to join you, now did he? That would be one unsuspecting trick of fate.
You could just watch him as he walked away, farther and farther away from your reach, never to be seen again. Your chest tightened as his legs took your love away, guiding him to fly off somewhere out of your reach.
"Oh, you recognize him?" Your mother called out, noticing how persistently you were staring at the fine man. "He does look familiar..."
You looked back at your mother in confusion, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"
"He reminds me of that one japanese child you befriended when we came here for vacation. Oh it was years and years ago. You were still a little kid at the time." She chimed, reminiscent of old times.
You blinked. "I... I can't remember at all, I'm not gonna lie."
She hummed. The waiting line not shortening one bit she added, "He couldn't speak our language at all, but no matter what you were telling him, he always acted like he understood you and nodded his head." She chuckled and you smiled.
"That's... That's adorable." Your voice softened, wishing you could have remembered such a wholesome memory. "What else do you recall about him?"
"He loved to draw in the sand with you. I wonder if he ended up becoming an artist. I think his name was.... Hmm.." She furrowed her eyebrows and held her chin, deep in thoughts, "Hold on I can't remember it's been so long..."
"Well, I can't really blame you for not remembering a japanese name you heard once from years ago." You bashfully reassured her, but she still tried to remember.
"No. I know I remembered his name because it was the same at that one famous French art school.... I think it was... Ro.... What was it... Roh...an..? I think. Yes, Rohan."
Your eyes widened at the name. Yout delusional self couldn't barely hold back the joy of finally putting a name to that beautiful face that stole your heart. Needless to say you were quick to jump to conclusions like on a trampoline.
That was it. 'It's got to be Rohan!' you screamed in the comfort of your own mind.
Oh and what a beautiful name it was too. It rolled out the tongue so naturally. Rohan. Rohan...
"Oh but it's probably not him. The odds of meeting a kid years later like that in the same place are too small..." Your mother dismissed as she showed her boarding pass to the gate agents, not aware that she was crushing your tiny little hopes. "Oh well, whatever."
You liked the fantasy of some impossible reunion with a long lost childhood sweetheart love story much better. Especially with the way he stared at you, as if he remembered you, after all those years.
But for now, you just had to board on that plane and go back home pretending your feelings have never existed, for there was nothing you could do about it.
You could only dream that it had got to be Rohan.
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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago
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The Beauty Inside
Draco X Gryffindor!Reader
Part One: The Serpent Beneath
Request: @daltonacademia​: Draco x Gryffindor reader and maybe like a faking dating type of situation? I am a sucker for the faking dating trope lmao. Maybe you could even spice it up by making it kind of an inside out version of enemies to lovers when they act lovey-dovey in public but in secret despise each other until they slowly get feelings??
A/n: I promised this and here it is. I was going to make it three parts but I’m not that mean. I really did enjoy this fake dating trope and want to explore some different routes. In the mean time, enjoy this one filled with pinning and comfort
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“The hell do you mean you’re dating that Gryffindor?” Pansy hissed, shoving him against the nearest wall.
“Calm down Pans,” Draco smirked, pushing her off and righting his shirt. “I’m only doing it to get at Potter. Golden boy wants her and she’s mine,” The smugness rolled off of him in waves.
“You... you’re...” Pansy relaxed, clearly impressed. “Gotta say Malfoy, I’m impressed.”
“Of course, you are, and after Potter’s realized he’s lost, I’ll dump her in front of the entire student body and...” He shrugged. It was almost too easy.
“You’ve outdone yourself Malfoy,” Pansy grinned. “How in the world did you convince her to go out with you?”
There was no way that he was telling Pansy that this had been your idea that he had jumped on board with. That would be the same as admitting you were as devious and cunning as he was, and he would not have that. And neither would Pansy.
“Potter tried to ask her to the Yule Ball this morning in Potions, I stepped in and she didn’t give anything a way. After class we made the deal.”
Pansy seemed to leave him alone after that clearly satisfied with his story. Now that he had time to slow down and think about it, far away from your smile and fierce determination in your eyes, he could easily plan on breaking your heart. Of course, he had to plan dinner first, but he could multitask could he not?
Dinner was easy to plan with Pansy’s help. Of course, he couldn’t avoid it being in the Great Hall, after all the entire point was to be together in the public eye, but he could easily make sure that you weren’t amidst a few dozen Slytherins who loved to hate you.
The hours seemed to slip by until it was time to pick you up. Draco didn’t particularly enjoy walking so close to the lion’s den, but it had to be done. It had to be public. He had to rub it into Harry’s face.
You were waiting outside the portrait, fiddling with the sleeve of your button up shirt, your sweater and tie gone. There was nothing to pin you as a Gryffindor physically now, only your reputation that hovered with every step. The Fat Lady in the portrait was evidently not happy with him being there or your presence to meet him.
“Hello,” He gave an easy practiced smile. Your eyes flickered to his, a sadness in them that was covered with false light.
“Hey,” You offered. “How was your afternoon?”
“Fine,” Draco walked along side you as you made your way to the Great Hall. “Finished my homework for the night, spoke with Pansy.”
“She can’t be happy with this.” You motioned to the two of you, the sadness creeping back into your tone. “Harry certainly isn’t.”
“Pansy is indifferent I think,” Draco noted. “And I thought that was the point? To make Harry miserable?” A real smile played at his lips.
“Except he’s bent out on making me miserable now,” That was the source of your melancholy. “All of the Gryffindors are...” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Maybe this was a mistake.”
Your discomfort didn’t sit right with Draco. Sure, he wanted Harry to be jealous, and he didn’t really care about what Gryffindors thought of him. But somehow it had turned back on you and now you were despondent. The rolls were wrong, Harry was supposed to be unhappy, not you. The only reason that it bothered Draco is because if you weren’t happy with how things were turning out you might back out too soon. It was the only obvious reason. He needed to think fast.
“Trust me?” He offered and you gaped at him like he had two heads.
And sure, it was an odd question to come from him, but if this were to work, you had trust him and the stupid plan he had to get Potter off your back and into his place. But despite that, you gave in and nodded. He reached for your hand, and after a moment of hesitancy, you intertwined your fingers with his.
The Great Hall went pin drop silent as you two entered. You held his hand a little tighter. Instinctively he gave your hand a small squeeze in reassurance. Draco led you to the end of the Slytherin table that was tucked in the corner near the hearth. It had been vacated by his fellow Slytherins and Pansy winked at him. The teachers even seemed at a loss for words as you sat beside him, yet dinner presumed as if the world hadn’t turned upside down.
“You don’t have to look so nervous,” Draco reassured you as the Great Hall fell back into the common buzz of conversation. “I’m not gonna bite,”
Your eyes wouldn’t stop darting around the Hall, tensed for the next bad thing to happen. Draco rolled his eyes knowing that this behavior wouldn’t convince anyone. So, he took your hand into his again and soothed you with the stroking of his thumb.
“Potter’s staring,” He murmured into your ear, leaning close. Your cheeks flushed at his close proximity. “Nervous around me, are we Y/n?” He teased lightly.
An annoyed smile rose on your lips as you scoffed, shoving him playfully. “You wish, Malfoy,” That was better.
“Why would I want my girlfriend to be nervous around me?” He raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously.
“Well, are you are so gosh darn pretty,” You batted your eyelashes at him before dissolving into laughter and his heart skipped a beat. Your laughter faded into a smile as you caught your lip between your teeth. His stare held yours for a bit too long and he found you blushing again and looking down.
You seemed more at ease at his side after that, even leaning into him after a while and striking up casual conversation. It was effortless to talk to you. You didn’t expect much in reply and you kept the topic moving from one thing to the next and he had no trouble keeping up. It was a small victory for him every time that he could make you laugh or blush, knowing the entire world was watching and Potter was growing greener as the minutes passed by.
Dinner had to end though. It was inevitable. You looked to him with wide innocent eyes, asking silently what to do next. He stood, taking your hand again as he led you through the halls. It was not lost on him that Harry and Hermione were following you two.
“It seems we have shadows,” You smiled up at him, referring to the two trailing Gryffindors.
“Seems we do,” He paused in the hall, “Wanna give them something to gawk at? I did take you to dinner,”
Your lips parted as you looked up at him doe eyed. For all of the times that you had worried your lip since this little game started left Draco wanting... He shook the thought. This was a game. Nothing more than that.
Draco’s hand came up and steadied your face softly as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. And holy Merlin did he fuck up.
____________________________________
I stared up at the drapery of my bed, tonight playing over and over in my head. Dinner. Draco. The kiss. The stupid godforsaken kiss.
I did not like Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy did not make me nervous.
Draco Malfoy does not give me butterflies.
Draco Malfoy did not make me smile to myself in the middle of the night.
It was a game. It was a game. It was fake. The pattering of my heart as he kissed me wasn’t real. My fingers grasping at his sweater was nothing more than a ruse. The softness of his lips on mine was a lie. The wonder and curiosity in his eyes when we parted was a scam. His gentle goodnight and lovely smile was a con.
My smile faded as a few tears slipped out. 
Draco Malfoy did not make me cry.
He did ask me to the Yule Ball, however. In front of Harry, and most of the student body in the courtyard. As soon as I accepted, he twirled me in his arms and set me down, placing another kiss to my lips.
He offered me his coat when the weather turned colder. He always carried my books. He walked me to every class with a soft kiss on my cheek. He held my hand. He studied with me and even helped me in Potions when I fell behind. He left notes on my desk and sent me a few during class. He made me smile. More than I had in a very long time. He made me... happy.
It was a trick.
It was a trick. It was a trick. It was a trick. It was a trick. It... It... 
It was a war within me
One part of me, the logical part knew that it was a game. A falsehood. To get back at Harry and watch him sulk in the halls as Draco and I went along together. It was a perfectly executed plan. Every touch was calculated, each kiss strategic, every laugh arranged. It was a stage performance between two actors who knew their roles brilliantly. A dance of deception and deviousness. And one part of me knew her position better than the stars.
And the other part of me believed the lie. And she was crying on the inside knowing it was nothing more than a tragedy. It didn’t stop her from hoping though. From twirling around in my room in my Yule Ball dress, imagining what it would be like to dance with Draco across the ballroom floor in my own fairytale. This part of me had a fair argument, however:
There had to be an explanation as to why Draco held my hand even when no one else was around. A reason to why he kissed me goodnight even though we were alone. A purpose to why without a second thought he hexed Harry when the golden boy tried to make a snide comment at me. Why he asked me if I was alright after he had found a quiet spot in the castle afterward. There had to be cause as to why there were no longer walls in his eyes, but warmth and comfort.
It was a game. And he was a Slytherin. 
Cunning, one part of me argued.
Loyal, the other part countered. 
But to you? The first part scoffed. 
I had no answer.
A few nights before the Yule Ball, a letter was delivered to my window by an owl. Inside was an invitation from Draco. He wanted me to meet him in the Astronomy Tower. Tugging on a house coat I crept out of the dorms and through the halls to the tower.
Anxiety ate me up inside, causing me to tremble. Maybe this was the end. This was the happily never after that I knew belonged to this story. I paused at the base of the stairs, wondering if I was ready to let Draco go. If I was ready to give up my fantasy. My heart screamed no, but my head told me it was for the best. I took the first step.
“Draco?” My voice was smaller than I felt in that moment.
This had to be goodbye. There was no other explanation. We had sealed our deal and carried out the terms and it was time to end our pact.
“You told me you loved the stars, their stories,” His voice was soft as he looked up at the inky sky. “The day this all started,”
“I remember,” I barely spoke the words, terrified. I didn’t dare take a step closer. I feared that a single wring move could shatter everything.
“A lot has changed since then,” His eyes still didn’t leave the stars. 
“I suppose,”
This time he did face me. There was regret and fear written in his features. And I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. To take away any reason that would make him feel that way. Until it dawned on me that I was that reason.
“Y/n,”
“Don’t,” I stopped him. “I know what you’re going to say,” I refused to look at him. “It’s okay, it’s better now than...”
“No, Y/n, wait,” He reached out for me.
“It’s enough, enough Draco?” Tears pricked my eyes. “I get it.”
“You really don’t,” He stressed, coming over to me. “Look, I fucked up,” I let out a pitiful laugh and shook my head.
“If either of us fucked up here it’s me. I... Draco... I... and you... and—”
And in the quiet of the night, with no one watching and no one to make jealous, Draco cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine urgently. I went wide eyed and pushed away. Now I was the one who was scared, trembling in his hold. Draco had the same uncertainty in his eyes as he stroked my cheek softly.
“I fucked up,” He whispered again. “I... I love you, Y/n,”
“No,” I was in disbelief. A worried smile played at his lips as he looked at me.
“I love you, don’t you hear me?” His face fell. “Did I get it wrong?” Hurt and fear coated his tone. “Do you not... did...” He took a deep tense breath. “Tell me you don’t love me too and I’ll never bother you again,” He sounded completely shattered. Someone had faltered in step.
So, if the rest of the world was going to hell in a handbasket, I might as well go with my lips pressed against his for even a moment.
Pressing up on my toes, my lips collided with his, sealing out fate. This time the urgency was not wasted. His hands pressed my body against his, and I knotted my fingers into his hair. This was my opportunity to finally kiss him the way I yearned to. Unapologetically, recklessly, and ridiculously in love with him.
I pulled away, realizing that I hadn’t actually said the words yet.
“I love you Draco Malfoy,” A grin curled on my lips. “Stupid Slytherin,” I chuckled.
“Ickle Gryffindor,” He mused, pressing a fleeting kiss to my lips. “My Y/n,”
And like the day I had accepted his invitation to go to the Yule Ball, he picked me up and spun me in his arms. I let out a carefree laugh and held him close.
“Y/n?” He called softly, drawing my attention. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Will you go out with me? Properly? No deal, no game. Will you be my actual girlfriend?”
I laughed. “Whatever you say, Malfoy,” Muzzling my nose to his I felt great comfort in his arms. The dreamer in me was ecstatic that she had been right, so much so that the skeptic had nothing to say.
“I love you,” He whispered softly. “I love the way you smile at me. I love the way you bite your lip when you’re nervous. I love the way you hold my hand like it’s a lifeline. I love the way you pass me notes in class. I love the way you make me smile. You make me happy,”
“You make me happy too,” Tears pricked my eyes for a different reason now. “You make me so happy. You make me feel safe and protected and cared for. How could I not love you?” I stroked his face softly. “I love that you hold my hand. And I love that you don’t have to fake a smile around me. I love that I’m allowed to see the real you,”
He drew me close into another hug, and we didn’t let each other go for quite some time. And like every other night, Draco walked me back to my portrait. He kissed me. He said goodnight, but this time he also said that he loved me.
The day of the Yule Ball came, and Draco and I had spent every moment that we could together the days prior. I didn’t see him that day, but I didn’t expect to. We both had a day of getting ready and spending time with our respective friends. All day I softly hummed melodies and danced to myself, expectant for tonight.
Just as I was about to head down to the Great Hall to meet Draco, Hermione rushed to me, looking unsettled and urgent.
“Y/n, I need to talk to you.” Hermione grabbed my arm pulling me aside. “Look, Viktor told me he overheard Pansy talking to some other Slytherins about you and Draco,”
“Okay?” I stared at her, waiting for the cause of her urgency, knowing that with each moment that passed Draco would worry a bit more.
“I’m so sorry Y/n, but... Draco’s going to break up with you tonight, in front of everyone...” She looked down, ashamed.
My heart fell as I took a step back.
“No... Draco. He... he loves me,” I refuted. “You’ve got it wrong,”
“Y/n,” She pleaded, reaching out for me. “It was all a game. He only dated you to make Harry jealous. Then he’s going to humiliate you tonight. It... it was nothing more than a joke,”
Tears pricked my eyes. “No,” I whispered again. “It changed. Things changed... he... he can’t.” 
“Y/n,”
“No,” I sniffled, crying. “You’ve got it wrong!” I refused to believe her words, the skeptic in me rearing her ugly head.
“I’m so sorry,” She sighed.
“I’ve... I’ve got to find him. There... there’s got to be some mistake,” I took off down the hall, ignoring as Hermione called out for me.
I nearly ran into Draco, knocking us both over in the feat. He laughed at my antics but became serious when he saw my distress.
“Y/n? Darling?” He helped me into a sitting position—admittedly on his lap—brushing a tear from me face carefully.
“You love me, yeah?” I quaked. “Tell me it’s not true...”
“What? What’s not true?” His tone became more imperative. “What happened?” 
“I trusted you!” I choked out, crying still.
“Y/n!?” He grabbed my shoulders with the utmost care. “What in Merlin’s name has got you so shaken!? Listen to me, I do love you, you know that.” There was no room for argument in his tone. “Whatever you heard, whatever’s got you so scared, it’s gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere,” Drawing me into his arms, he held me tightly, rubbing my back softly.
“Hermione said she heard Pansy say you’re gonna... that you...” I sniffled, hyperventilating. “I told her she was wrong. You love me,” I clung to the notion desperately.
Draco cursed under his breath and sighed.
“This about me breaking up with you at the ball?” There was a faint hint of humor in his voice as he drew away enough so that I could face him.
My gaze fell and I nodded, trembling. “Don’t... please, Draco,”
“Hey,” He tilted my chin up. “That was before... before I fell for you. I’d never hurt you like that. Especially not on a night as special as this,”
I nodded, and dove back into his arms, trying to find a steadiness in my breathing. 
“If you’re really that worried, we won’t even go,” He murmured softly.
“What?” I squeaked out.
“Look if we don’t go, then there would be no reason for you to even think that I would do something like that. There would be no crowd, no rumors, just you and me. If you really want, we won’t go. We’ll hide in the Astronomy Tower all night. Just you and me,” The sincerity in his eyes almost made me cry once more.
This time I tackled him, beaming, and feeling secure in what I knew was true.
“And miss the chance to show you off and make every girl jealous?” I grinned, my smile warming to something softer. “Thank you, Draco. I’m... sorry I freaked out,”
“You trusted me enough to let me explain, that’s no reason to apologize,” He returned the warm smile. “You look absolutely gorgeous by the way,” He helped me up and off the ground.
“You’re quite dashing yourself Malfoy,” I smiled, fluffing out the skirt of my dress so that it fell properly. A quick cleaning spell and I felt as good as new, no breakdown evident on my face.
Draco and I entered the Great Hall and like before, the room went quiet upon our arrival. I glanced to Draco and he gave me an encouraging smile. With my hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, we descended the stairs. The music began again when we reached the bottom and Draco wasted no time in pulling me to the center of the dance floor as the waltz began.
“They’re all looking at us,” I whispered, my eyes focused on his steady grey ones as I worried my lip.
“Believe me they’re all looking at you,” There was a mischievous glint to his smile that eased my anxiety more than I’d have thought.
And when I was in Draco’s care as he led me across the dance floor, there really was nothing to be anxious about. I didn’t care about Pansy or Harry glaring at me the entire waltz. I didn’t care about the whispers spreading through the crowd. I didn’t care about the defeated and jealous sighs of onlookers.
No, instead I laughed and danced with remembered steps as the music swelled and crescendoed.
“Trust me?” Draco asked, and I laughed again, remembering the first time he ever asked me that.
Nodding, he changed the choreography slightly, and I let him lead me before his arms came and supported my waist and as I took the next step, he lifted me, to my delight and then through the next three count both of his hands were at my waist and I was ready as he lifted me again twirling me in the glittering golden lights before setting me down again. The waltz came to its end leaving Draco and I alone on the dance floor. I dipped into a curtsey and he bowed before the entire room erupted into applause.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to think that I’m leaving you now,” Draco murmured into my ear as the next song was softer, not quite a waltz but slow enough for us to stay pressed against another and sway softly.
“It doesn’t matter what they think,” I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. “I know you’re not leaving me,”
.
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themistas · 4 years ago
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there is something so genuinely heartbreaking about the very last line of midnight sun... the total opposite of twilight...
'And he leaned down to press his cold lips once more to my throat.' / 'As the night finally overcame the end of the day, I leaned forward again and kissed the warm skin of her throat.'
there's... hope in twilight. hope during the last chapters, hope in the very last scene. to me, this very last sentence was always a door, the door to something more -- or less: had twilight been a single book rather than a series, this sentence (ignoring all the other things happening in the scene, the loose ends that would have not been tied had edward turned bella right there and then) was the perfect way to end it; hinting at more, but leaving it up to the reader to Assume. even now, as i reread twilight, and i reach this very moment, and i close my book, i'm always left with a feeling of hope. i know three books come after, but this sentence carries so much hope. so much things we could just imagine and be left forever unanswered. does edward turn her? he must, and they live happily ever-after -- they find a compromise, surely, and they get a fairytale ending that allows readers to sleep soundly, that heals the heart that broke as james and his two partners ruined everything. edward presses his lips on bella's neck, and life -- death -- happens.
but on edward's side, it's so... heart-crushing. the chapters that precede it, filled with self-hatred, lies, broken promises. the realisation that the point of view bella has at the end of twilight, at the beginning of new moon, is nothing but a lie, and what she thought was lasting, was only fleeting.
bella says 'press' -- leaves it up to the reader to imagine what comes next. edward says 'kiss' -- does not imply anything and hands us his thought, his act -- his decision -- on a silver platter. he goes one step further than bella, one second later than her ending. he ties it up, neatly, and at the same time, if i may, crushes it. there it is, bella tells us, figure it out on your own. there it is, edward whispers as we close her side of the story, i've taken my decision and it's only a matter of time.
and it's not a fairytale ending, it's not the happiness we wish for them throughout the entire book. it's the breach of a promise, a crack on something that seemed perfect for a long time. it's, funnily enough, not at all like hades and persephone, but more like orpheus and euridyce, if in a twisted way, life was death and vice versa. an orpheus who's been dead for years, and is midway through accepting eurydice as a partner -- who realises, as they head to the underworld, and penniless souls reach for his soulmate, that he cannot do this, and willingly turn around -- curses eurydice into a life (life itself,) something she does not yearn for.
for a man who talks so much about pomegranate seeds and how he's cursing bella to hell -- edward sounds a lot more like the half of a soul that cannot live on his own -- one who cannot stop from turning around. he sure sounds like the king of the underworld, too, sensible and devoted to his other half, crying as he hears about a touching love story -- but he is also the one who tells the story, and who begs for another chance. he's the man who dies without his other half, and yet curses himself to his fate.
mourning forever, enchanting others with his voice. this orpheus cherished life dearly, and lost his lover to it. a self-fulfilling prophecy, cutting threads of hope on his own. a tragedy.
a midnight sun, peeking at exactly twelve, like the day would -- and then heading back to the shadows.
back to purgatory.
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hains-mae · 4 years ago
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A Second Chance
(Jason x Reader) 
Rating: T
Ages: You’re both 20+
Summary: It wouldn’t take a mind reader to visibly see how broken you were. “You never really stop loving.” The alien princess says to you one especially lonely evening. It had been a month since the tragedy. “You just learn to live without them.”
Notes: I couldn’t stop thinking of Jason Todd’s death and how painful it must be for the people who cared about him. This is a little drabble on the reader (who is you, or anyone you want them to be) and their perspective of Jason’s death. Angst with a happy ending.
And just like that, Jason Todd disappeared from your life. No one read to you that night, no tale of adventure and romance translated into fine print classics. No Prince Charming to slay the dragon who captured the Princess. No pirates who sailed the 7 seas in search for lost treasure. No tale of two star crossed lovers fighting fate to be together.
All that was left was emptiness... in your room, your heart, and an ache in your very soul. It felt like a piece of you was missing.
“You never really stop loving.” The alien princess said to you on one especially lonely evening. It had been a month since the tragedy.
You let out a shaky breath as you try to still your hands to keep the mug of hot tea from spilling.
“You just learn to live without them.” Her voice was quiet. Almost like the wind that blew through your hair.
You didn’t answer.
You didn’t have to.
You understood what she meant. There was no way you could fill that void. It was too deep, too unique, the chasm that Jason Todd left inside you. Nothing you did or thought of truly worked. He had carved himself into your life too intimately. The piece you were looking for was too specific — and very much gone.
The sooner you’d accept that, the sooner you could start to move on.
It would be years after that excruciating experience that you two would meet again. Although, at first you wouldn’t recognize him. But he would instantly recognize you. The way you tied your hair, the way your eyes lit up, the way you talked, and smiled — it never changed, since the day he met you so long ago.
He couldn’t really stay away from you. Little by little he’d make himself known, but he would constantly remind himself that he shouldn’t ruin your life any more than he already had.
You first met him as Red Hood. It was unintentional, him falling into your apartment that fateful night, bleeding out onto your carpet. He should’ve expected that you wouldn’t let him leave without patching him up. That one night became two, and then three, and then four — before he was aware of it, he was slipping into your home nearly every night to seek your (medical) assistance and comfort.
He’d continue the charade of pretending he wasn’t Jason, until one night his heart aches too much to deny it any longer.
It was his death anniversary, and he found you silently crying under a blanket fort you made in your living room. He broke all over again for a whole different reason when he saw your figure huddled tightly in the corner.
“We used to do this every night, when he’d read to me.” You told him. “I just wish I told him how much he meant to me before he left.”
Red Hood would hug you, then, and try to comfort you as best as he can, by making your favorite cup of tea.
Earl Gray, two teaspoons of raw honey, and a dash of warm almond milk.
“Tea is never complete without the biscuit.” He told you behind his red domino mask, before proceeding to slide a small plate of ginger bread cookies in the shape of a simple flower.
“He knew.” His voice sounded as fragile as glass. “He knew how much you cared.”
You froze in your spot at the counter where he had placed the tea and cookies. Too many thoughts running around your brain all at the same time to form a cohesive sentence.
He was alive.
He was here.
All this time.
Different emotions flickered behind your eyes.
When did he come back?
How?
Why didn’t he tell you?
“I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already did!” He defended. “When I saw you again all I wanted to do was to run back to you but you had a life, you built a life all on your own and you seemed so content. I’m not the same person I was back then, I’m not exactly a hero, and what I do... what I do could put you in harms way.” He was rambling now.
You shook your head as new tears threatened to fall.
“I thought maybe I could change. Get better? I don’t know, all this was so messed up but I couldn’t stop it. I needed to do what I had to.” He continue on. “I didn’t know if you would take me back like this. Broken...”
The tears were back in full force now, and Jason opened his mouth again to say something but you didn’t want to hear it.
Any excuse he was going to give you, any reason he came up with to keep you at arms length died in his throat when you crashed your lips against his.
You needed to know he was truly standing in front of you this time, and not just a figment of your many imaginations. Your fingers found its way at the base of his neck and brushed his hair before you tangled it in his locks to bring him closer. His own hands, much bigger than yours, were placed on your back and waist. God, how long had he wanted this? To be able to hold you like this. To taste you like this?
The kiss ended far too quickly for his liking — but that was okay. After the heat would settle down, you’d tell him how much you missed him, and remind him over and over that no matter what had become of him, by the end of the day he was still Jason. That’s all that really mattered, and that’s all you really needed.
Finally, you’d be able to feel again. The hole in both your souls start to fill. It’s you, and it’s him. Same people, different time. No longer a little girl who dreams of fairy tales, and no longer a boy who had lost his way.
Now you’re both a little older. A little wiser. Both your pasts and experiences have shaped the adults you’ve become, and maybe now fate wouldn’t be so cruel.
Maybe fate could give you two a second chance.
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mrs-tsunderemeitantei · 3 years ago
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Do you have anyone that you ship Shiho with?
Can I just say, I love how straightforward you are! And for that, I thank you 😂💛
Ok so there are two Shiho ships that I am honestly obsessed with. They're both not popular, but that's just my opinion...
The first ship would be GinxSherry. Now let me start off by saying this is not a ship I support for the current timeline, BUT it's a ship I think made sense before she escaped the BO.
So many people will disagree and I get it.
Isn't it a toxic ship? Yes.
Isn't it based on extreme unhealthy obsession on Gin's part? Yes.
Isn't it full of betrayal, pain and mind games? Yes.
So how?? Look, I'm crazy and I know it. I'll be honest, one of the reasons I like this ship is because it's different from all the other love plot lines in the manga. They're all lovey-dovey and cutesy, and well, it's over-done. This dark, more adult version is more my style.
There were a few hints and teasings about the GinxSherry pairing being canon but I still need the confirmation because I'm dying to know more. They don't just know each other on a professional level, they KNOW each other very well. They know intimate details about each other; he knows her favourite colour, she knows his favourite car model, he can identify her from just a single strand of her hair and they both can predict how the other will behave in certain situations. Like come on, they know each other way too well for just 'work colleagues'. Also that's another thing I find interesting. She's a scientist and he's an assassin. They work in two completely different departments, yet they know each other so well.
So, yeah I can't help but think they got caught up with each other in a whirlwind romance (as cheesy as it sounds). And there are multiple reasons why I'm convinced they were in an actual relationship before she escaped the BO:
Let's be honest, betrayals hurt way more when the person you love does it to you. And I can't help but sense the palpable bitterness they have between them.
Also his unrelenting jealousy when he thought she is now running away with another man after the Haido City Hotel incident. You can't be that worked up if you were just work colleagues.
His reaction to her 'death' when Vermouth told him Bourbon saw her burn up in flames at the end of the Bell Tree Train arc, was not that of someone finally relieved his enemy was dead. His reaction was underwhelming and it seemed too indifferent.
The suggestive things they said to each other at the rooftop of Haido City Hotel was more that of scorned exes and not ex colleagues.
And finally which is the most obvious, he always imagined her nude whenever he thought of her, soooo they must have gotten intimate at some point.
When I think of this pairing, I can't help but think he thought of her as the light to his darkness. But because they're different people at their core, who share different views and morals, their distrust of one another got the best of them which lead to the tragic end of their relationship. If there's one spin-off, I'd pay to watch, is one that's about their history together. I need to see it unfold all the way to their downfall. Yes, I crave tragedy , don't judge me 😂
The second ship, I've not really been shy about. It is ReixShiho. This ship has sooooo much potential and I've already prepared myself for the disappointment that it won't happen because of the Reishipthatshallnotbenamed is more popular 😒 but anywho 😂
Why do I love it? I spoke about that multiple times but I think the ship I love so much, deserves a proper post so here we are.
First off, if my gut feeling is right, I think they'll have great chemistry. Their personalities would fit sooo well, I just see it. She is calm, cool, reserved, and he is warm, friendlier and more outgoing. And it goes without saying that they're both as some have said are 'intellectual equals' because they're both intelligent.
Secondly, their past experiences are not just connected, but they're also similar. It would be easy for them to understand and relate to what the other is going through as well as find comfort in one another because of the following reasons:
They both know what it's like to lose all your loved ones (she lost her family, he lost all his best friends and idk why but I think he was an orphan since nothing about his family has been disclosed yet).
They were both high-ranking members of the BO. They were forced to do things against their will, so they know how dark and twisted the world can be.
They're both mixed kids who had a hard time when growing up to be accepted by people because of it (she was shunned in the States and was forced to eat alone and he quarrelled with children who made fun of how he looked).
They both feel wronged by Akai who they believe is the main reason for the death of Akemi and Hiro.
All those reasons make me believe they would get along really well. That is not to say she'll welcome him with open arms at first and he'd probably be hella judgey at first but once all is revealed and the misunderstandings cleared, they'd be one badass pair. I know so many Shiho fans are mad at him for planning to sell her out but I already talked about it in a lengthy post. And while I was initially shocked and angry, it all made sense. Also an enemies to lovers archetype...are you kidding me? YES PLEASE!! 😭😭
So, there you have it my friend. These are my thoughts. And whatever happens, all I care about is for her to have closure and a happy ending. It doesn't necessarily need to entail a relationship for her to be happy. She is an amazing character as is with or without a love interest, but if I had to choose, these are the pairings that I like for her.
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aotxfan · 4 years ago
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Stranger in Familiar Skin (Floch)
Summary: Female unnamed character realizes that the man she once loved, Floch, is gone to her forever.
Warnings: Mentions of violence and blood.
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Her heart was stuttering in her chest as she stared down at the barrel of the gun. She could feel her pulse roaring in her ears as her hands shook in front of her. It seemed like time slowed down as the man before her pointed it directly at her head.
“Floch?”
His name left her lips in a quiet whisper. Desperately, she prayed that she was wrong. Surely this cold hearted man before her wasn’t the same boy she had grown up with.
She hoped he would react with confusion, hoped his name out of her mouth would snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into, but it didn’t work. At her voice, the finger on the side of the gun simply moved to the trigger. He didn’t press down yet, but the threat was there all the same.
“I told you not to resist,” the man, Floch, responded. He sounded bored as he said it, voice lacking any emotion, and he nodded at the empty cell behind her.
Her eyes were trained directly at the barrel pointing at her forehead. Never in a million years had she imagined they’d be in this situation. Nothing about any of this made sense.
The man before her was someone she knew yet didn’t recognize. A loved one and a stranger all at once.
She and Floch had grown up together as kids and enlisted at the same time in the military. He was her childhood friend and later lover. She had once thought he was her other half, a piece of her soul.
They had known each other since they could toddle and had trusted each other more than they trusted themselves. She had thought she knew him like the back of her hand. He had never given her any indication of being someone dangerous.
“Please,” she forced herself to speak out, “Put it down.”
Her hands were shaking like leafs and her eyes were burning with unshed tears. However, it wasn’t fear that made her freeze. It was heartbreak.
She could feel her heart shattering inside her chest. All around her, her world was spiraling. She felt light headed and sick. It was a miracle she hadn’t passed out yet.
He called her name in a monotone voice. It sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth. She had heard him say it hundreds of times. He had shrieked it in laughter as a child, whispered it reverently as an teen, and used it as a form of a prayer as an adult. Now, however, it sounded hollow and meaningless. There was no affection behind the enunciation of each syllable nor any indication that this encounter pained him as much as her.
“I won’t ask again. Get back in your cell,” he nudged his head towards the empty prison behind her.
She had managed to escape somehow, yet she couldn’t exactly remember how. Ever since he had arrived at the restaurant where the Marley POWs worked, her mind had blanked. After Floch and the other Yeagerists had entered pointing their weapons, she had stopped processing things. So startled by her former lover pointing a gun at her, she hadn’t realized that she been imprisoned nor could she remember how she had gotten out.
“Floch,” she tried again. Her voice sounded like a whimper, but it had no effect on him. Where once his name from her lips would have sent him running to her, he now seemed like an unmovable statue.
Hange had warned her, she recalled. They had told her that Floch had escaped from his cell and joined the Yeagerists. She hadn’t wanted to believe it then, her mind couldn’t have made sense of it, but it was evident now that they had been telling the truth.
The Floch before her was not the one she remembered. Gone was the man she loved. Left in his wake was a terrorist who had killed and would kill again. His hands were stained red, yet his sins seemed not to weigh heavy on his shoulders. His eyes were cold and dark like the bitter sea that churned past the walls, and his hand on the gun was steady despite the fact that he was pointing it at the girl he had once swore to love forever.
“What happened to you?” She exhaled the question out and her first tear rolled down her cheek.
“Happened to me?” He cocked his head to the side and his lips rose in a mocking sneer, “Have you forgotten everything already?”
He advanced on her, and she took a step back. Her heart was beating against her chest like a hummingbird stuck in a cage. Desperately, she wanted some sign that her Floch was still in there. He had to be, she refused to believe that the man she had once loved was gone forever.
“Did you forget how I almost died? How a demon led me to a suicide charge where I was the lone survivor? How the one person in this world that could save humanity was killed in favor of some nobody little boy just because he had friends that staged a mutiny? Did you forget about the way the military you served betrayed humanity’s hope of winning against the Titans? The one who could beat Marley and restore the Eldian Empire to glory? Have you forgotten how I was arrested for telling the public what they had a right to know? Treated as a criminal when all I have ever wanted was to protect my people and serve my nation?”
Another step forward from him. Two more steps back from her.
“I know that-”
She cut herself off knowing not how to continue. She knew everything that had happened. Of course she did.
She had wept at the Battle of Shinganshina when she had imagined him dead, had held him as he woke up from nightmares screaming and covering his head from imaginary rocks, had comforted him as he seethed about Marley, and had visited him every day after Hange had ordered his arrest. She had been there every step of the way, yet nothing had prepared her for this. Somewhere along the way, he had lost himself. Burning like the morning star, he had fallen from grace.
The demon before her now was not the same boy she had once loved.
“Don’t you recognize me? Don’t you know me?” His tone seemed mocking.
“No,” she breathed out.
She really didn’t. She knew Floch, but this wasn’t her Floch.
Her Floch was a little boy introduced to her by her parents as a toddler. He was a little boy who had loved to play with her as a child and would race her down the hills in summer.
Her Floch was a cocky little brat with a dumb haircut who had decided to join the military and enticed her to follow. He was a little brat who liked to tease her and gave her smirky smiles that made her want to hit him.
Her Floch was the teenager that had returned from Shinganshina with a haunted look in his eye. He was a teen that had wept as she held him and had been woken up by his own screams from nightmares that made his throat raw.
Her Floch was the man that had swore to love her and marry her once the war was over. The man that had pledged himself to her and kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered in their cruel world.
This demon before her was not someone she recognized. He was a stranger in familiar skin, a traitor in her country’s uniform, and she could feel her heart crack painfully in her chest.
“I wanted you to join me, you know,” Floch broke the silence, “I told you to help me leak the information when the time came. Had you helped me then, you could have stood at my side rather than being locked up in a cell.”
She closed her eyes and more tears fell. He had asked her for help back when Eren had been arrested. She had refused because she felt it was the wrong thing to do. She had trusted Hange and the military and thought that their orders for secrecy were for a good reason.
Now she couldn’t help but wonder if she had been wrong. If she had gone with Floch, could she have stopped all of this from happening? Could she have led him back to the light and kept him from losing himself in the darkness?
She had a feeling the question would haunt her for the rest of her life.
“Please,” she tried again, “Please come back to me. It’s not too late-”
A cold laugh broke through his throat. He lowered the gun just slightly and pressed a hand to his forehead as if the very thought made him want to double over. His eyes made her shiver.
“But it is too late, doll. Pretty soon Eldia will be restored and all of you, the military that betrayed Eren, will be known as traitors. The people will want you hung. Anyone who stood in the way of the Eldian Empire from rising will water its prosperous fields with their blood.”
“Is that what you want? Do you want me dead-?”
Her breath hitched. She felt lightheaded and had to lean against the cell door in order to keep herself from falling.
What was happening? The room seemed to be spinning.
This wasn’t the man she loved. The man she loved was kind if cocky.
He had been her childhood friend and had seemed an extension of her own soul. She had known his name before she had even known her own, had spent hours at his home playing with him, and had embraced him with sticky fingers from the candy they would share as a symbol of their friendship. He had been the cocky little teen that had stars in his eyes when he told her he had enlisted, had spun her around in excitement when she had joined the military to follow him, and had kissed her when she had chosen the Scouts just like him. He had also been the man that had promised to love her forever, the one that had held her through all those years, and the one that had teased her about marrying her once the war was over.
This man before her was none of those things. He was a cold hearted terrorist that had killed and would gladly kill again. Nothing of the old Floch was left in this new stranger.
“I don’t want you to die. It’s actually a shame to let someone so valuable die. You were a great soldier, no one could beat you in training, you would have made a great fighter for Eren. It’s a tragedy to let someone’s potential die with them.”
She swallowed painfully. She could feel her pulse roaring in her ears, and her hands shook from keeping them up for so long.
“For Eren,” she whispered, “You only want me to live for Eren. Nothing else matters then?”
“Can anything ever matter when the Eldian Empire is facing a dangerous enemy?” He shrugged.
She shook her head and desperately wished she could get through to him. There had to be some part of him that had survived. He couldn’t have lost himself completely, surely?
“Floch,” his name tasted bitter on her tongue, “Please. You know me, you grew up with me-”
You loved me.
She couldn’t bring herself to say the last part, but the phrase could be read in her heart. She bared her soul to him and waited for his response. There had to be some part of him that still cared. He couldn’t have been completely lost.
“Once upon a time,” he finally answered, “Once upon a time I did. Now, all I see is a traitor. You sided with the losing side, doll. I told you Eren was our future, but you just stood there as Hange ordered my arrest. I really, really thought you would-”
His breath hitched and a part of his mask cracked. She felt a flicker of hope rise in her, but it faded as fast as it came. He gathered his composure again before she had even had time to blink.
Soon, the gun was pressed directly to her forehead. Her breath caught in her throat.
“But you’ll pay for it. All of you will pay. When Eldia rises, it’ll rise on the sacrifice of those who doubted it. Your mountain of corpses will serve as a throne for Eren and Zeke to sit on. They will lead this island to greatness, and you all will regret betraying your blood.”
He moved away and shoved her roughly inside the cell. She landed on her back and stared up at him stunned.
He was gone completely. The man before her was a stranger on the opposite end of a battlefield. Whatever he had been before, the man she had once loved, was lost. In his wake stood a demon who would love to see her dead.
Her hands shook as she pressed them to her face. She could feel the last of her strength seep out. Despair churned inside her.
“I love you, Floch,” she meant it as she said it and hated herself for it, “Even now. Even though I can’t recognize you, my heart is still yours. Is it not the same for you? Were all those promises of marriage a lie?”
“Shut up.”
He hissed the words out as he slammed the cell door shut. Locking it, he leaned forward until his face was pressed between the bars. His eyes were cold like a tundra.
“You know what’s really funny? I didn’t do this for Eren, not at first. I did this all for you.”
At that, she froze. Staring aghast, she could only blink up at him. “What?”
He continued and leaned forward further until their faces were only inches away. The bars dug into his skin, but he seemed not to notice. His eyes were trained on hers.
“I did this for you. All I’ve ever done has been for you. I joined the military to fight the Titans so that you could live in a world without them. I joined the suicide charge so that you could escape once the battle was over. I even joined the Yeagerists so that Eldia could rise to power and take its place as a powerful empire. I wanted you to live in a country where you didn’t have to worry about foreign enemies across the sea. I wanted our kids to live in a world where their blood wouldn’t be a death sentence across the world-“
“Our kids?” She repeated it numbly and felt her eyes burn, “I never asked for any of this! All I ever wanted was you!”
He slammed his hands against the bar startling her. She jerked back in shock and hit her head against the cot. Stars burst across her vision and a piercing pain reverberated against her skull. When her hand went to the back of her head, she felt blood.
“Shut up! You were the one who betrayed me! Don’t you remember?!” He was all but frothing as he clenched his fingers against the bars. His knuckles were bleeding from where he had punched the metal, but he seemed not to care. “You just watched as Eren was taken in chains. You just watched as Hange ordered me arrested. I wanted you at my side! I wanted you to join me and fight for our home! In my head, you were always at my side! You stood next to me and we watched our Empire proudly flourish with our family! Yet you chose the wrong side! You sided with the military. You chose them over Eldia! You chose them over me-”
He let go of the bars and moved away. His rage boiled under his skin and simmered in his eyes, yet he shoved it aside. Returning to his mask of neutrality, he pressed a hand to his nose and pinched the bridge.
“You chose this,” he repeated to himself almost as if he wanted to believe it. Needed to believe it. “You chose the wrong side, doll. Now you pay the price. Eldia will rise and all of you traitors will regret ever standing in the way of your motherland.”
She scrambled to her feet as he turned around. Her head was bleeding and she pressed one of her palms against where it throbbed. Her other hand reached for him through the bars, but he was out of reach.
“Floch, please!” Her tears were running down her face now and her vision was doubled. The blow to her head made her feel dizzy and nauseous. “Please! Come back to me! Please! I love you!”
Numbly she repeated it. Her vision was growing dark, and she wondered if she had a concussion. She swayed in place but kept reaching for him.
If only he would turn around. Then he would see that she meant it. Then he would see the love that blazed in her eyes despite the hatred that burned in his heart-
But he didn’t. Instead, he gave her his back and swung the weapon over his shoulder. Snapping into the facade of a terrorists, he banged on the door to signal the Yeagerists outside to let him out.
Ignoring her pleas, he nudged his rifle as he walked away.
“Don’t escape again, doll. Next time, I will put a bullet in your brain.”
With that, the door clanged shut behind him.
Left alone, darkness creeping into the edges of her vision, she sank to the floor. Her eyes struggled to remain open and her head felt like it was splitting into halves.
She called his name softly and was met with silence. Heart obliterated in her chest, she sank to the ground and let darkness take over. The fight had left her just like him.
He was gone, she realized, the man she had once loved had been replaced with a stranger. The boy from all of those years together had been killed by the terrorist inhabiting his body. Whoever the demon in his skin was now, he was not someone she could ever hope to save.
The thought made her close her eyes and fall limply to the ground. She curled up into a ball and let the concussion win out. Her will to fight had been broken just like the remnants of her heart.
And, as her consciousness faded into the darkness, so did all her hope of ever bringing him back into the light.
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