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ode2rin · 1 year

Text

by design, you became mine

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & highschool or teenage romance !

warnings/content. 3k+ wc | profanity | mentions of food | timeline is set before blue lock ! | reo and reader is in their sophomore year in highschool | reader is a bit mean to reo (not in an extreme way, just in a normal teenager-y way) and reo is a sore loser in love | and this is me trying the grumpy x sunshine (obv reo) trope ! | half-assed proofread btw | some parts might be ooc reo but it's fine hehe

summary: reo asks you to tutor him after failing an exam in which he oddly looks happy about

“the teacher said i need to be tutored,” a voice tinged with amusement reached your ears.

looking up, you saw reo mikage standing right in front of you, his million-dollar smile lighting up his face, as he held out a math test paper marked with a big, bleeding red ‘F.’

and for someone who had just allegedly received the lowest score possible on such an important exam, he was definitely grinning a little too much.

“and why should that concern me?” you shot back, hoping to hide your indifference.

your annoyance seeped into your words, not meant to sound rude, but you craved some peace during your lunch break. hunger gnawed at your stomach, and this interruption wasn't helping.

he shrugged casually, as if the situation were no big deal. if you had received such a grade, you would not be smiling right now, let alone treat this situation nonchalantly. “well, the teacher did mention i could ask anyone. and since you're undoubtedly one of the smartest in the class, it only makes sense to choose you, right?”

with sarcasm making its way to your tongue and translating to your voice, you retorted, “oh, is that so? do you find me worthy of your esteemed company, young master?”

as the son and sole heir of the mikage corp, reo was trained to be an exceptional conversationalist, and there had been only a few instances when he couldn't form a response right away. this one, however, might be the longest he got a cat to get his tongue. reo feels like he’s having a heartburn from your remark, it’s pathetic.

ever so impatient, you, who only wanted to get back to your lunch, beat him to a reply, saying, “what if i refuse?”

quickly recovering from the unexpected turn of events, reo let out a dramatic gasp, “do you not care about my future? what if i don't graduate on time and can't get a job?”

that must be the most bullshit reason you've ever heard from the heir of a business tycoon. you're pretty sure his future is much clearer than any blue sky. but sure, you can play along.

“fine.”

“really?”

sensing an out-of-place joy in his tone, you raised a brow. was he that thrilled to be tutored?

“i'm sure. now, can i return to my lunch?”

reo's eyes widened a bit as he realized that he was interrupting your meal. hurriedly, he bid you goodbye with a smile.

even with your sarcastic retorts, he walked away, still smiling. his grin was a telltale sign of how much trouble you had just signed up for.

stupid reo and his stupid, handsome smile.

smiling to yourself, you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to receive such a mark in the first place. you had known him since freshman year (it’s hard not to know him), and you knew that the mikage heir was a born genius. so, could this be a mishap? probably. oh well, he couldn't be so difficult to teach.

you’re wrong.

reo mikage is the worst fucking student.

not only does he seem uninterested in your explanations, completely disregarding all the equations you painstakingly lay out for him, but he also has the audacity to stare at you the entire time.

with that shit-eating grin that never leaves his face.

sure, he's cute, but right now, he's nothing more than a damn thorn in your side.

“is there something on my face that bothers you this much, or do you simply have the attention span of a goldfish?” you said, frustration evident in your tone.

“you're just a bad teacher, i think,” he quips, smugness dripping from his words.

“and you're the worst student, i'm sure,” you fire back, refusing to let him have the upper hand.

“well, how about you give me an incentive?” reo suddenly exclaims, his excitement evident in his sparkling purple eyes.

“and now you're asking for more as if you're not already taking up too much of my time?” you reply sarcastically, but your words carry no venom.

“come on! if i get a high mark on the next exam, you'll give me your number!” he eagerly proposes, his enthusiasm contagious.

do all rich kids have the tendency to want mundane things?

“what are you going to do with my number?”

“networking! it's a thing in my world. expanding social circles and all that,” he explains, trying his best to come up with excuses that sound remotely plausible.

reo, well aware of the fact that he can only fabricate bullshit excuses in your presence, hopes he's not being too obvious. unfortunately for him, you see right through it, but it doesn't bother you all that much.

“better show me that A+ then,” you challenge, your expectations clear.

oh, it’s on. he’s going to ace that exam, one way or another. not that it’s actually hard.

mikage: hello y/n! mikage: do you have some notes from the discussion from yesterday? mikage: hello?

so much for networking.

mikage: and they finally read my messages! the crowd cheers!

what led to this moment is, once again, reo mikage standing in front of you, grinning from ear to ear, eagerly holding out an exam paper marked with what seems to be the biggest A+ you've ever seen.

that was three days ago, and sure enough, he got the incentive he asked for. and in those days, you damn sure experienced the ‘networking’ he speaks of with how often he texts you.

you: yeah, let me just take pictures of it to send you. mikage: NO you: ??? are you yelling at me mikage: i mean no, don’t take pictures of it. i’m a visual learner. i have to see your notes in person.

is he fucking serious right now?

you: and what do you suggest we do about that? it’s saturday, we won’t see each other until monday, genius. mikage: how about i’ll come to your house? you: how about you try asking nagi for notes instead?

after sending your last message, you put your phone down despite it continuously buzzing, signaling reo's discontent with your suggestion. you did a commendable job of ignoring him until he grew tired of sending unread messages and decided to call you instead.

“what?” you answered, picking up his persistent call.

“the probability of nagi having notes is lower than the probability of cows flying ten years from now!” he exclaimed, and begrudgingly, you admit he sure does have a point in that.

sighing into the phone, you reply, “you can't come here, it's a bit busy.”

“we'll meet up then! i can pick you up?” reo suggests eagerly. the ‘q’ in reo mikage sure does stand for ‘quitter’.

“do you text and call everyone in your networking circle this much?” you ask, slightly amused.

“what do you mean? we're friends!” he protests.

“did i miss a few pages, young master, or did you get hit in the head with a soccer ball and become a bit delusional?” you tease, unable to resist.

“how about you stop being mean to me?” you could almost hear the pout and the mock hurt in his voice.

you can't, not when you get cute reactions from him in return.

you can't help but find his cute reactions entertaining, and you smile at the phone, even though he can't see it.

“i'll think about it,” you concede.

“okay, you have enough time to think about it while i'm on my way to you! bye, see you in a bit,” he says cheerfully before hanging up.

looking at the phone, you wonder when exactly you agreed to this.

stupid reo and his stupid persistence.

reo is once again in front of you, a scene that has become quite familiar over the course of your friendship.

however, this time you find yourselves in a cozy cafe near your house instead of on the school premises. he’s sitting in front of you, skimming through your notes, probably visually learning, while you sip on the drink he insisted on ordering for you. you gave in, because reo is not a quitter of any sorts. fighting him on the bill is futile and definitely a waste of effort.

“i’ll pay you back,” you state firmly.

“i asked you here, so i should pay,” reo insists.

“i’ll feel bad.”

“if that’s the case, i guess you can treat me next time?” he suggests with a playful smile.

“you practically dragged me here, and you're already talking about a ‘next time’? you're not being slick, reo mikage,” you retort, not letting him get away with his charm.

“a man could try…” he whispers, hiding his face behind your notes, although you can see his neck turning red.

shaking your head, you shift your attention to the busy street outside the cafe. however, your ears catch the faint hum of a familiar song coming from reo. you know that song — it has been stuck in your head since a famous girl group released their album.

unable to contain your amusement, you chuckle, causing reo to look at you with curious eyes.

still smiling brightly, you remark, “didn’t know you're a fan too,” and laugh once more.

reo, on the other hand, feels starstruck.

he made you laugh for the first time, and was it the prettiest sound he ever heard? it sure is. it feels as if his heart beats in harmony with the rhythm of your laughter. it takes his breath away and brings him back to the present, all at once. it's intoxicating in the best possible way.

once he gets home, he's going to memorize the discography of this girl group. nothing will stop him. he will hum every single one of their songs in your presence.

reo would do that and even more if it means hearing you laugh again. this shouldn't be the last time he gets to experience it.

you had fun with reo last saturday.

but right now? you sure don’t.

he’s avoiding you, like a fucking plague. and much to your chagrin, you miss having him around, despite his annoying antics. all with his stupid excuses and stupid grins.

he’s physically avoiding you, but you've noticed him stealing glances at you multiple times during this boring history class, his guilty expression not going unnoticed. it's time to put an end to this charade once and for all.

as soon as the bell rings, you quickly stand up and make your way towards reo before he can leave the classroom. looking around to ensure you're alone, you confront him.

“what’s wrong with you?” you demand.

“what do you mean?” reo feigns innocence.

“you’re avoiding me. you did something, didn’t you? did you spill something on the notes i lent you and you can't bring yourself to tell me?” you accuse, trying to get to the bottom of his strange behavior.

reo wishes it was just that. but it wasn't. it was much worse, to the point that even seishiro nagi called him out on it. and seishiro nagi? a man who couldn't care less about anyone because it's a hassle, calling someone out? you know you messed up if he does.

and reo believes he did.

“you're smiling at your phone too much, ‘s creeping me out,” nagi remarked, looming over reo’s phone.

reo shrugged, trying to hide his excitement. “stop being a hater, nagi.”

curiosity piqued, nagi caught a glimpse of your contact number on the screen. “oh? you finally made a move? about time.”

“i didn’t... they're tutoring me,” reo replied, a hint of sheepishness in his voice.

nagi raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “huh? for?”

“uh, i failed a math exam.”

“you?” nagi chuckled, finding the situation rather amusing.

“okay, fine, the test paper wasn't mine or anyone’s.”

“normally, i won't give a damn, but tell me about it,” nagi said, genuinely interested.

it was an understatement to say that nagi was borderline amused after hearing reo's story, so amused that he had to unintentionally slap reo with the truth.

“basically, you tricked them. should’ve just said that.”

it's safe to assume that nagi's words had struck their way into reo's mind all throughout that day until now.

once again, and perhaps for the last time, reo stood in front of you. but this time, there was no smile on his lips nor a glint in his big purple eyes. he took a deep breath, gathering the courage to confess.

“no, i didn't spill anything on your notes. but i did something to you,” reo admitted, his voice trailing off. seeing your raised eyebrow, he continued, “i tricked you.”

“what?”

"i didn't fail any exam. i didn't need tutoring. no teacher told me to approach anyone. the test paper i showed you wasn't mine. i wasted your time, and i..." reo's voice faltered, barely above a whisper, “... tricked you, because i didn't know how to approach you after having liked you since first year.”

reo panned his eyes to the floor, unable to meet your gaze while his heart sank.

he hasn’t even started yet it's done. he should've come clean. he should've just told you he liked you since freshman year. he should've just asked for your number like a proper man. but he was so fucking shy, unbearable to think of being rejected by you. he could only think of coaxing you to talk to him.

and now his own foolishness was paying the price.

it's over. you and him are done for. he's not going to hear your laughter anymore. he won't ever receive a sarcastic retort again. all those moments of bliss, gone —

“i kinda know.”

what?

reo's eyes widened, and he lifted his gaze to meet yours. how?

“did you forget that the teacher congratulated the class for having good results on the exam you showed me? no one got a score below B+, reo. so imagine my surprise when you came, interrupting my lunch, showing me a paper with an f mark claiming you flunked it.”

god damn it, reo mikage.

it's either you're joking or reo just made the most foolish mistake known to mankind. and none of the former is evident in your face.

he should really pay attention in class, not on your side profile from where he sits across you.

a grave grave mistake. can the ground swallow him whole? or can someone shoot him —

no, actually, wait a damn minute.

it was as if all the clogs in reo's brain got a huge power-up as he realized something so spectacular.

“then why did you not say anything?”

you... from the start, could've just refused him. if you knew the entire time. so why did you agree to tutor him in the first place?

perhaps…? no, reo didn't want to get his hopes up.

he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his nervousness evident in his fidgeting. it was as if he had been caught in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to make sense of it all. the weight of anticipation hung in the air as he waited for your response, his heart pounding in his chest.

and then, you smiled.

you and your stupidly bright smile that feels like a ray of light on a freezing cold skin that reo is having right now.

he really did not want to get his hopes up, but how in the hell would he do that when you just smiled at his question?

“what does that smile mean?”

“well, it means that maybe you're not the only scheming lovesick fool here, pretty boy.”

oh.

you knew it all along that he was scheming his way into your heart.

you knew the entire time.

and you let him.

what the fuck. reo was having a heartburn, literally, figuratively, and madly so. all because of you.

reo snapped out of his thoughts when you waved a hand in his face, vying for his attention. you spoke, “is this everything you’re guilty about? i thought it was something grave. if you told me you spilled something on my notes, i would have started swinging at you, actually.” your laughter filled the room, lightening the tension.

the second time reo made you laugh was because of a scheme that he expected would end whatever beautiful thing you had between you two. not that he’s complaining.

“so you like me back?” reo finally gathered the courage to ask, his voice tinged with hope.

“if we get some food right now, i might answer that coherently. scheming or not, you really do have the habit of interrupting my lunch,” you playfully replied.

“i’d buy you the whole cafeteria if you answer me right now,” reo declared, a touch of desperation in his voice.

the ‘o’ in reo mikage sure stands for ‘overspending’, you’re convinced.

giving in to his request, you took three steps closer to him, barely a foot distance between you. softly, you declared, “yes, reo mikage, i like you too. but i must say, you, making me starve right now, is reducing your chances of being my actual boyfriend.”

“let’s get you some food.” reo said, holding your hand and leading you out of the room like he was on a mission. amused by his sudden swift pace, you let out a laugh.

and suddenly, all tension left reo’s body. his heart once again beat at a normal rhythm. that’s the third time reo made you laugh. surely, it’s one of many more to come.

a minute after walking side by side, you broke the serene silence surrounding you. “not gonna lie, the networking excuse is kind of funny.”

“but it worked. a win is a win,” reo smugly said, showing you your intertwined hands. “see? a win.”

you shook your head at his remarks. your stupid reo and his stupid scheme.

note. hello lovely ppl ! thanks for keeping up w me this far and for following me! as a thanks, here’s a reo fic since i’m missing him so much and emma has been feeding me ideas abt him <3 this is actually the longest i’ve written (i’m so normal abt reo i swear), hope you like it! (btw it goes without saying that this fic, is in fact, another TS inspired hehe love lots!)

𓆩♡𓆪 for one of the best people i met here, @saetorinrin

#☁️ my ode to you #pls take it easy on me #this is my first time writing so much dialogue #than usual #i love reo #i'll give it my best 4 him #mikage reo x reader #mikage reo #mikage reo fluff #mikage reo x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

Text

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 14

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Patrick was nervous about stepping into your house to meet your grandma again after so many years. You thought it was sweet of him to bring flowers for her. And not just any flowers—he brought blue tulips, one of the rarest colors in the world.

The blue tulip is rare and expensive. Back then, it would have been impossible for him to afford it. Now that he's rich, he wants to show it to Cassandra. He regrets not being able to show it to Ophelia; it’s too late for that now.

He chose this unique color because, as Patrick explained, “Tulips and the color blue were your mother and grandma’s favorites.”

It was the sweetest gesture you had ever known, especially compared to anything your father had done. Jonathan’s level of ignorance was out of this world. It must be the only trait you inherited from him.

Jonathan never made an effort to give anything to your mom. Even with Genevieve, he hadn’t changed at all. That woman didn’t care as long as she became Madam Sinclair.

Cassandra was thrilled to meet Patrick again. Because of her dementia, she only remembered him as a teenager.

Patrick stepped inside, looking around with a mix of nostalgia and apprehension. “Hello, Cassandra,” he said gently, holding out the bouquet of blue tulips.

Cassandra’s eyes lit up when she saw the flowers. “Oh, Patrick, these are beautiful! Blue tulips, my favorite.” She beamed, her eyes sparkling with youthful joy.

Patrick smiled warmly. “I remember, Cassie. You always loved unique things.”

Cassandra took the flowers, her hands trembling slightly. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still the same thoughtful boy.”

Patrick chuckled softly. “And you haven’t changed either. Still as lovely as ever.”

You watched the exchange, feeling a lump form in your throat. It was like watching a piece of your mother’s past come to life. Patrick’s eyes were filled with sadness and fondness as he looked at Cassandra, and you could sense the depth of their shared history.

You left Patrick and Cassandra alone to relive the nostalgia.

Bucky commented, “For a moment, she looked younger when she saw Patrick.”

You nodded, glancing at your mother’s photo on the wall. ‘I will get back what’s ours,’ you thought.

Bucky stood right next to you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. You turned to him and said, “Since I met you, good things have happened to me. Thank you.”

Bucky smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I can say the same,” he replied, gently touching your shoulder.

“You’re useless.” Those two words cut Victoria’s heart deeply, especially coming from her father.

She trembled, kneeling in front of Jonathan, who sat in a leather chair behind a large red mahogany desk. Genevieve stood behind her husband, visibly nervous.

“I made a foolish mistake,” Victoria admitted, knowing that apologizing would be futile.

“You did,” Jonathan replied calmly, though anger simmered beneath his composed exterior. He blamed both Victoria and Genevieve for the current situation.

These two women had jeopardized his ability to work with AstraNova Group. If he had known that his first daughter could secure a connection with the only son of the Barnes family, he would never have kicked you out. Then you would never have met Patrick.

He truly hated that part. The thought of his daughter being with Ophelia's ex-boyfriend was infuriating. He couldn’t stand the idea that the man who once loved his late wife was now close to his daughter. It felt like history repeating itself, a painful reminder of what he had lost and his mistakes.

But it was too late now. You had won. You had two influential business figures by your side. Jonathan knew you hated him and blamed him for Ophelia’s death. He had heard many times that you intended to bring down Celestial Enterprises.

He scoffed at the idea, wondering how someone who was just a teacher at a school for troubled kids could dismantle a billion-dollar company.

But you did. He shouldn’t have underestimated you because, after all, you were his daughter.

Today, the stocks of companies owned by Celestial Enterprises plummeted. All the news media covered the crisis. He had never dealt with such a catastrophe before.

He knew who was behind it. It wasn’t the Barnes.

It was Patrick. The man had finally made his appearance and challenged Jonathan to a battle.

Jonathan gritted his teeth and looked at Genevieve and Victoria. He stood up. “Both of you are jinxed.” He left, slamming the door behind him, leaving the mother and daughter alone.

Both flinched at the sound, never having seen him this angry before.

“Mom…” Victoria whispered, her voice trembling.

Genevieve massaged her head and raised her hand. “Be quiet.” She sighed, "I shouldn’t have brought up the idea of the engagement with the Barnes.” She regretted it. If the engagement had never happened, you would never have appeared.

“She got Bucky because she and her grandma found him. It’s not like she has something good to offer,” Victoria said bitterly.

Genevieve paused. “What are you talking about? Found Bucky?”

“Do you know that Bucky once got kidnapped?” Victoria replied.

Genevieve nodded, then stopped abruptly. She immediately left the room, leaving Victoria confused.

Genevieve got into her car and drove without her usual driver. The car stopped in front of a shady bar in a dark alley.

The bar was a dimly lit dive, with flickering neon signs casting eerie glows on the rough, graffitied walls. The clientele consisted of bikers in leather jackets, shady characters with shifty eyes, and people who looked like they had long histories with the law. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and alcohol, creating an atmosphere of danger and secrecy.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself before stepping out of the car and walking into the bar, her heels clicking sharply on the grimy floor. The eyes of the patrons followed her, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion in their gazes.

In her classy outfit, Genevieve stood out like a sore thumb, immediately becoming the center of attention. Some patrons whistled at her, but she ignored them, striding confidently through the room until she spotted the giant figure.

He was sitting alone, smoking a cigar, his presence dominating the space around him.

Genevieve stopped beside him. The man glanced at her momentarily and then smirked like the devil. “Are you here to see me?”

She was silent. Then she took a deep breath. "Twenty years ago," she said, her voice steady. "It was you who kidnapped the Barnes' only son, right?"

The man's eyes narrowed, and he took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling slowly. "And what if I did?" he replied, his smirk widening.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

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haru-natsuka · 11 months

Text

Left with father (Malleus Draconia x Child)

Genre: Fluff

(I will do for Ace Trappola tomorrow for both a daughter and a son)

Out of everyone, Malleus knew the best of the meaning behind loneliness. He spent most of his time in his childhood alone because almost everyone was scared of him due to his excessive power. His only companion was Lilia at that time who was willing to do anything for him, becoming a parent figure for the dragon fae. Therefore, when he had his own child, he promised he would never let him feel the loneliness that used to consume him. There would be no moment where his child would eat a whole cake by himself.

When he saw his wife was contemplating the decision to accept her friend’s invitation, he was about to disagree at first. Although he knew his one-year-old child was a big resemblance of his features and strength, it was well known the prince was a mama boy as he always wanted to stick with his mother whenever he saw her. Even when his wife tried to take a shower, his child would crawl up to her and hold her legs to follow along. Indeed, his son followed him in terms of stamina too but dear my child, I bathed with my wife first before you came so, please wait in line.

Malleus never wanted to confine his wife in the castle as she deserved to have her own freedom and ever since their marriage, this was the first time you conveyed to him about an outing. It took him for a while to make the decision but he chose to let you have your own free time for a while as you deserved it more. He could take care of our child so just trust him and go and yet he was surprised when you showed him your reluctance to leave.

"Maybe I should just stay at home. It's not an obligation for me to meet them. I should cancel my reunion" You babble a lot as you get ready in your outdoor outfit, sometimes stop in the middle to give a thought whether you should go out meeting your friends or not.

"Dear, you can go this time to have some meaningful moments with your friends. You already did a good job as our son's mother." Malleus tried to calm your nerves as he combed your hair. A sight that no one even witnessed for him being very gentle.

"But I love spending time with you and our child more and our child just learns to walk" You stared at Malleus through the mirror, still contemplating whether you should go or not. "Dear, it is just for 5 hours. I will be with him for the entire time" "Alright, I will go but please, don’t let Lilia food be near our child and stop Silver and Sebek from spoiling him so much, especially Sebek"

He promised to do as you said but not more than 10 minutes after you left, his life became hectic already. He was just trying to get his child's meal ready before he woke up from his deep slumber. Unfortunately, when he returned back to his child’s cradle, he had already disappeared without any trace left. It was impossible for a fairy clan to betray their master and any assassination attempt would be futile as the whole castle had a special spell for every intruder. Only the worst among worst actions left which Malleus did not want it to be true. Today, he still has yet to meet Lilia, Sebek and Silver. He tried to spot the prince with his magic and found out he was in the throne room. As he arrived in the room, his prediction was correct as the missing three were playing with his son. It was fine if they just wanted to play with him but what happened to his son now? There were a lot of jewelleries on him from head to toe and the boy was even properly sitting on the throne chair as if the rightful owner was him while Lilia tried to feed him something which the prince was about to eat if it was not for Malleus to intervene in the situation.

“Lilia, it is not a good idea for my child to eat your cooking yet.” Malleus gaze at the purplish dish in the bowl Lilia was holding and immediately stand in between him and his son.

“Doesn’t he get bored eating the same food every day? You used to eat the same food too when you were a child. Look how healthy you become” The latter tried to feed the prince again, who just stared at him in confusion whether he would get to eat or not.

“We will save your food for another special occasion, Lilia and why was my son decorated with all of these jewelleries?”

“Young Master! Look at my effort in making sure the rightful prince is satisfied! I have given him all of my jewelry and he likes it so much!” Sebek clearly wanted to be complimented with his effort by his master.

“Lord Malleus, I’m sorry that I fail to stop them”

Malleus did understand why you tried your best to not let the three of them be near the prince and he just could laugh at the situation. It was so hectic but not to the extent it was that bad except for Lilia’s food.

“You guys just show your care for my child, there is no need to be angry off”

“It feels like yesterday you were this big Malleus. Now, I can feel the age get to me. You even married to The Queen and have your own child” Lilia smiles contently as he recalls the past and the current time of Malleus' life.

“Lilia, never mention-“ Malleus' eyes went wide when he realised the word said by Lilia. He looked at his child who started to look on his left and right, clearly trying to find a certain figure near him. The child whisper,

“Ueen? Mama?” When the boy realised his mother was not by his side, the once confuse voice turned to a high pierced screaming as he continuously called for his mother. The four people inside the room were in panic as they tried to comfort the kid but everything was futile as he was just screaming and crying louder than before.

“My child, I have a gift for you to play with. You must love it as the game is very interesting” Malleus took out his retro digital pet game only for his son to throw it across the room and destroy it into pieces which made Malleus just look at the destroyed gadget but paid it no further attention.

“MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!” In the end, his son never stopped crying until you returned back to the castle and he saw your face and happily greeted you at the door, playing an innocent card with his adorable face and doe eyes. You picked him up from the floor but was caught by surprise with the face of the 4 guys who were also waiting for you at the door who looked more tired than ever. Moreover, why was the castle being covered with ice?

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asumofwords · 11 months

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Lighthouse - Sailor!Aemond x LighthouseKeeper!Reader - Mini Series

Summary: You work as a lone Lighthouse keeper on a small island just off the coast. Everyday was the same routine, tending to your duties and the lamp with not much time to spare. But what will happen to your routine when a storm rages across the sea, and a handsome man washes ashore?

Warnings: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. Warnings will be added in their relevance. She/Her Pronouns. Slow burn, pining, kiss.

Note: EEEE! Here is chapter two of my little mini-series! Thank you all so much for your patience for this update, to say it has been hard has been an understatement. An odd thing to put into the notes of a fanfic, but From the River, to the Sea. 🇵🇸

Chapter 2: Unfamiliar Changes

The next few days were the same routine as usual, but with a new addition; A man who had been at deaths door, recovering in your bed.

The lighthouse, you knew.

You knew the way to light it, tend to it, care for it. It had been your life for many years ever since your Pa had died, leaving its responsibilities to you.

It had been him who taught you everything. He who had raised you to know what you now do, to do as you now do each day. And you were thankful. Thankful to not be married to a Fishermans son, or market boy at a young age, to squeeze out child, after child, in a marriage that had no love or care but rather a societal duty.

But now, there was a man in your home.

A man on your small, little, isolated island which you sought refuge in. An island and isolation that had been all you had known, and yet now, here he was, laid in your bed with hair like spun silk that lay around his head, a violet eye you had only heard in the tales on shore, a scarred cheek and sharp mouth.

Was he a pirate?

You had heard of those, but for some reason, he didn’t seem to be as brash and roguish as those stories either. And whilst his presence was not all begrudged, it did throw your small little world into a loop. So with the duties of old, came the duties of new.

You would rest, only shortly, wake, and tend to the lamp, the storm slowly moving away inland, but the winds too high to take your small boat alone, or send your pigeon with a letter to alert them of the wreck and lone survivor.

Thereafter, you could come back inside, fix yourself a tea, and here began the new routine; you would make two instead of one.

Two plates or bowls of food.

Two cups or glasses of water, or tea.

Two of everything.

One for you.

And one for the man.

A man who still had not told you his name.

That was until that evening.

The winds had begun to yield, but the soft grumbling of thunder still prevailed in the near distance.

You were eating the last of your stew together, though this time, he was seated at the table. You having dragged the only other chair on the island down the many stairs of the lighthouse to the cottage.

He was still rather pale, and wheezed and coughed on occasion, but after his many days in your presence, you realised that he was not pale because of his ailment, but rather, his skin was just as white as the porcelain William’s wife owned. His cheeks however, gained some colour, and his lips were no longer cracked and dry, but now hydrated.

And plump.

And soft.

And-

“-Aemond.”

The spoon you were holding clinked back onto the side of the bowl.

“Pardon?”

“My name,” The man put another spoonful of stew into his mouth, chewing before swallowing politely, “Is Aemond.”

You tested the name on your tongue. It was definitely not a common name from around your part of the world.

“I take it you are a long way from home?” You chewed on a chunk of potato, watching as the man nodded.

“Aye.”

“Your ship-“

“-Vhagar.” So that’s what its name was, “Sunk to the bottom of the sea, I presume.” His lips pulled down at the sides.

You nodded solemnly, “Was your family-“

“-No. No family. Just me and my crew.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly before nodding, “I’m sorry. Though we have the Gods to thank. They favoured you when they washed you ashore.”

Aemond, the man before you, scoffed, “Favoured. Sunk my ship and my men. Drowned me.”

You sucked your teeth, feeling slightly guilty about your choice of words, “Yes, and yet you are here. I prayed-“

“-You prayed?”

A nod, though his gaze seemed more intrigued than mocking, “To the Drowned God. Prayed to anyone who would listen to spare your life.”

You watched as the corner of his lip twitched, “And why should a Lady such as you, pray for a sailor such as me?”

“I’d hardly like to deal with a corpse on my beach." You stirred your stew, "And I am no Lady, I have told you this.”

The snort from his nose made way into a smile that was contagious.

At least you could be blunt.

And in some ways, you supposed that he liked this bluntness.

You shared your meal together quietly, the crackling of the fire and sound of rain and occasional thunder outside. You found, much to your displeasure, that you did not mind having his company after all.

He did not talk to fill the space, and seemed to think deeply before he spoke, at least when he was not irritated or slightly offended by your own remarks. All in all, he was a welcomed presence in your modest home.

And that was what scared you.

“Do you often have drowned men wash ashore?” His spoon was delicately placed in his bowl, bread devoured shortly after given to him. The way in which he ate, the manner in which he sat back, rod stiff, indicated to you that he came from some form of high society, far higher than you, and likely came from money and wealth that you could do naught but try to imagine.

You smiled coyly, “You’re the first. An achievement to some end, I am sure.”

The corner of his lips pulled again, yet this time, it developed into a full smirk, “Then I am honoured to have been the first, Miss.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you had to look away.

The way in which he spoke, the way his voice became deep and smooth like the whiskey in your cupboard, had sent shivers down your spine with the implication that perhaps there was a double meaning to what he said.

To what you had said.

But then he continued, “And how does a woman of your stature become the keeper of this Lighthouse?”

“My Pa. He was the keeper before I. Taught me all there was to know. It was just me and him on this island for a long, long time, and now it is just me.”

“Is your father-“

“-Dead.”

“I see.” Aemond nodded, “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Don’t be.” You gave him a small smile, “He died doing what he loved.”

A silver eyebrow raised above the man’s seeing eye, “And what was that?”

“Drinking on the job.” You poked your tongue in your cheek to stifle the laugh as you watched Aemond’s composure become flustered, “It’s okay,” You reassured him, “You can laugh. My father was not a solemn man. I like to think he enjoys my humour.”

A hum was all you received, though he did not smile as you had hoped.

You had not fully seen him do so yet, and although there was glimmers of a more playful and relaxed man, you wondered in that moment if perhaps he was simply just a rather stern and serious sailor after all. That his nature was to be stiff, and bold, and unbendable.

And if he was to be that, a small flicker inside of you wished to make him bend.

Gods, what was wrong with you?

Had you grown so lonesome in your isolation that the first man to wash upon your shore, literally, was whom you would grow some sort of desire for?

Sure, you were no stranger to pleasure, chasing your own peaks with your hands as often as you’d like, of course, if it did not endeavour to endanger the care of the lighthouse. And now, that a man was sat before you, kept in the confines of your home by storm and ailment, you wished to taste what it truly meant to be pleased.

It had of course crossed your mind once or twice on your rare travels to shore. Speaking to the locals in shops or on the street, friends of William, or any decent man who cast you a glance. You had thought about it seriously, allowing some sort of dalliance to form, to warm a mans bed and then leave on the morrow to go back to your life of solitude.

In fact, it had almost happened.

A sailor named Dalton Greyjoy had caught your eye on the occasions he would be on shore at the same time as when you were. He was sailor from a well known, and well to do family. He came and went as he pleased, and it was no secret that he liked his women. Dalton's hair came below his ear, curling slightly atop his head, the colour as black as night and with his eyes to match his hair; a piercing, deep black which captured and lured anyone who caught his gaze.

And you had caught his, on more than one occasion, and each time, he had tried to woo you. Tried to offer a trip on his sturdy ship which carried more than one hundred men. Or a tour of his home which lay on bountiful lands on shore.

He had even offered a drink in the local tavern, and a meal, with a desire to speak to the ‘beautiful woman who keeps my ship from ruin’.

And you had thought on it, had almost given in, and when you had rejected him the last time, you had meant to offer him refuge on your island, should he ever so need it. If he was ever so inclined to have a tour of your own homestead, of your lighthouse which kept him from ruin.

But when you had moved to tell him thus, he was gone, back to the seas for the Gods only know how long, perhaps months, before he returned to shore. And that had been two months ago, and you had almost kicked yourself at the missed opportunity of having a man warm your bed, and then leave.

The convenience was lost.

You were under no impression that it would be anything more than a release for the two of you, and in your eyes, it was perhaps, a perfect arrangement. Yet, you had strung him for too long, and the seas had called him once more.

You had thought to wait to look for his ships arrival as it passed from you to shore, and lowered its anchor within eyesight. You had thought that perhaps at the sight of it, you would send your pigeon to her, the large ship, or to shore to send word of your request of his presence. But then, you thought, perhaps you would make a quick stop to the markets, weather permitting, and keep your eyes widened for the dark black hair which you sought.

But now, as the man you had come to know as Aemond, grew stronger with each day, the desire to meet your desires with Dalton faded, and were now replaced for the desire of a man who was the stark opposite.

No black hair, only silver. No black eyes, only lilac.

Would his lips be as soft as they looked?

Would he hold you passionately? Whisper in your ear? Give you pleasure that you had only read of?

This was what you thought of, thighs clenching as you pulled the old wick from the lamp to replace it with a new one, careful to not spill any oil around the lamps enclosure or yourself. You were exhausted as you lit the flame, night crawling towards you rapidly.

There was not much rest that you could get when sleeping on the worn down lounge of your home, mind reeling at the thought of the handsome man not too far from you in the warmth and plush of your bed.

Once you were positive the lamp was fine and well lit, you trudged down the stairs, eyes struggling to stay open as you made your way back to the cottage, the wind blowing your hair roughly as you closed the door behind you.

The fatigue dragged you down, limbs feeling as heavy as stone as you moved to make yourself some tea, feeling all the more exhausted than before, eyes half shut.

Once your tea was made, you sat on the couch and stared at the fire, blowing the steam away and sipping on it to warm your chilled bones. The lighthouse was cold inside, no warmth but the lamp, and despite wearing your warm layers, the cold still nipped you to your core.

There were no thoughts as you moved half asleep around your home, pulling the heavy waxed coat from your shoulders to place on the hook by the door.

Your boots came next, and then your socks, and finally you pulled away at your dress, untying your stays as it slid down your hips to the floor.

You trudged to your room, having extinguished the lamps and candles in the cottage, leaving the fireplace to burn through what was left of the night.

It was dark as you pulled back the sheets, mind in memory and eyes already shut, as you slid into bed in only your slip, pulling the sheets up to your neck as you lay on your side.

Then sleep came just as quickly as your eyes closed.

It was hot.

Too hot.

There was a warmth that radiated around you as you slowly rose to consciousness.

Then, came the weight.

A weight of something wrapped around you, behind you, heat seeping into your spine. You blinked sluggishly, confused as to what it was as you shifted, feeling whatever that warmth was shifting with you. Solid.

Arms.

Two arms.

One under your head, the other draped over your middle, hand splayed across your stomach as your back was pressed into the flush of someones chest.

Not someone.

Aemond.

You jerked, suddenly awake and out of the bed, looking down at the man who looked tiredly up at you, corner of his mouth lifting slightly as he fought away a smirk. Heat rose up your neck and into your cheeks in embarrassment.

You had been in bed.

With him.

Tucked into him.

Oh Gods.

Your mouth opened and shut as your brain misfired, unsure of what to do our say.

Do you apologise?

Gods, you had been so tired you hadn’t even realised.

You were suddenly mortified at the thought of what he must now think of you.

He must-

“-If you want to get into bed with me, all you must do is ask.” Came the low timbre of Aemond, who now smirked freely at you.

Your heart raced in your chest as you became flustered, a small squeak escaping your lips.

Aemond’s eye bore into your own as you stood there, bare feet on the cold flagstones below, chest heaving as you were at a loss of words. His eye then roamed lower, taking in your appearance as you felt the heat of his gaze blanket over you.

It was then, that you realised, you were in nothing but your thin shift.

“Gods. Fuck.” You swore, turning quickly to throw on an old dress, foregoing your skirts, stay and stockings.

You kept your back to him as you hastily did up the many buttons, suddenly cursing each and every one of them as your fingers struggled to do them up the more you become flustered, all the while you could still feel his heated gaze upon you from the bed.

You uttered an embarrassed apology, too ashamed to even raise your eyes to look at him, before you fled from the cottage, forgetting your coat, and not even doing up the laces of your boots as you shut the door behind you and raced towards the lighthouse.

You had never quite climbed the steps as fast as you had in that moment, desperate to get away from his salacious gaze, and your burning embarrassment.

What had you been thinking? Climbing into bed with him like that? He must think you desperate. Depraved. Unkempt.

Gods be good.

The embarrassment made tears prickle at your eyes.

Though the lamp in the lighthouse was fine, and there was no true reason for you to monitor it, the worst of the storm having moved away, you did not return back to your cottage. You stayed in the cold, no coat and shoes half tied, shivering in the stone walls of the lighthouse to avoid the mortification of that morning. And yet, despite trying to avoid him physically, there was no possible way, you had tried, to avoid thinking of him.

Thinking of his touch, how warm he had been behind you, how his large hand had completely spanned across your middle as he held you to him, how his fingers had twitched and pulled as you wriggled in first wake. How he smelt of the sea, and sweat, the stew you had cooked him, and the smell of your own sheets, but beneath it all, there was his natural scent, something earthy and musky and like sandalwood that surrounded your every waking moment.

If it wasn’t for his legs and his near death, you would think the man was a Siren.

You thought of how cold he had been when he washed ashore, how pale and almost blue he looked, and now he burnt hot, and although he was still pale, the flush of life coloured his cheeks and lips. His lilac eye devouring you every chance he had.

At first you had thought you were mistaken, that he was simply looking at you, but now you were sure of it. His eye, the seeing one, unclouded by injury and simmering a bright lilac, watched you almost always half-lidded and ablaze with something you now thought could perhaps be lust.

Gods.

You buried your head into your hands, deeply exhaling before standing up straighter, trying to erase the images and thoughts of him from your mind, but it was hopeless. He was all you could think of, all you could smell, or see behind your eyelids, and you yearned to reach out and touch him. Hold him. Caress him.

Your thighs instinctually squeezed together and you sighed, feeling a wetness that had settled between them.

Gods be good, you were in trouble.

You shivered again, rubbing your hands together as you looked out at the sea, mentally cursing yourself for not having more than two chairs on the island, but you had never needed more than that.

Your legs ached from not having sat in the hours that had passed, and you had turned to pacing the small landing back and forth to try and keep yourself warm.

A soft clunk came from the bottom of the lighthouse.

You mustn’t have shut the door properly.

You continued your pacing, back and forth, breathing into your icy palms as you tried to warm them, mind straying to a body of warmth that you knew, if you pressed your palms against him, would warm in an instant. Your hands coming beneath his tunic to splay against his stomach, working their way-

The sound of rustling came from behind.

You spun on your heel in fright, breath caught in your throat to find Aemond behind you. Now standing straight, the man towered over you, looking down his sharp nose at your shivering form. His hair was slightly wet, stuck down to his shoulders and dripping from its ends onto the floor of the lighthouse. The tunic he wore, stuck to his skin where spatters of rain wet the material.

In his hands, your coat.

“Gods be good.” You cursed at him, hand immediately shooting out to press against his forehead, having to rise slightly on your toes to reach, “Have you gone mad? You’ll catch cold and grow ill again.”

Snatching your coat from his hands, you threw it up and around his shoulders, pulling it together tightly at the front, watching as his brows furrowed at you.

His hands caught your wrists as you fussed over him, and you immediately could no longer meet his eye. The warmth of his hands seeped into your bones, and a barely contained sigh fell from your lips.

Aemond was so close, so close to you, you could feel his warmth, smell his-

“Go back to the cottage before you become feverish again.” You tried to pull your wrists away from his hands to push him back to the door, but the man did not budge, his grip only tightened.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Came his low response, jaw tensed as he watched you.

You swallowed, looking anywhere but his eye, “No.” You lied terribly, hoping he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened at your wrist, “I have to tend to my duties.“

“-You’re a terrible liar.”

You bristled, heat rising in your cheeks again before you met his eye.

Exhaling shakily, you tried again to get him to release your wrists with no avail.

“Please let go of me, Sir.”

Aemond’s cheek twitched, before finally he let go, and you begrudged his warmth leaving you the second he did.

As his hands dropped to his sides, your eyes flitted to the exposed skin of his chest, if only for a moment, where his tunic was ripped down the middle. He moved, arms coming up again as he pulled your coat from his shoulders, stepping towards you suddenly.

You stiffened, feeling his warmth envelop you and the subtle scent of salt and sandalwood engulf you as he wrapped you in your coat, pulling it tightly against you at your front. Your arms were trapped beneath it as he kept his hold on you, the coat pulling tighter as he stepped closer.

“You’re cold.” He whispered, head ducking slightly as he looked at you, long strands of silver cascading over his shoulder.

Okay. You were sure of it.

Perhaps he was a Siren.

And now he was going to drag you to the sea and-

You watched in a confusion, or horror and delight as his head began to dip down towards your face, eye watching you intently as you held your breath.

Oh Gods, was this really happening? Was this man-

“Sīr gevie.” Came a deep purr from the back of his throat, and there it was again, that half lidded gaze.

You parted your lips instinctually, feeling his nose brush against yours, your eyes fluttering as you looked down to his lips which were parted a hairsbreadth away from you, “I don’t know what that means.” You whispered, feeling his breath fan across your lips warmly.

“Beautiful.” Came his response, less purring than the last, more of a whisper, more delicate, like the silk that spun his hair, ready to break.

His face loomed closer, the tip of his pink tongue coming to wet his lips, and all you could think of was how you wished to close the distance, to press against him, taste him, have him.

Your lungs ached from the breath you had been holding, and a sudden gust of wind knocked at the windows of the lighthouse. It seemed to have broken the spell, jerking you away from the man in front of you, who blinked longingly at you.

Swallowing thickly, trying to ignore the ache in your core, you uttered, “I need to prepare supper.” Before you dashed away from him and down the stairs, almost tripping over your half laced boots in the process.

As you wound down the stairs, you felt a pang of guilt leaving him up there.

Would he be fine to get down himself?

What if he grew ill? It was cold, and he had no coat, and you had just-No. If he had made his way up those stairs, then he could surely make his way down them.

You wasted no time preparing dinner, darting about the kitchen noisily as you began to prepare your meal, cutting the vegetables on the chopping board, and moving for some more dried meats to add with it, soaking it in some bone powdered broth you had made days earlier.

When the door of the cottage opened, and then clicked shut, you ignored the mans arrival, keeping your back to him, pretending that you were all too busy preparing the dinner to spare him a second glance, and not only that, you were far too engrossed of thinking what was coming next, and not at all how his lips might have felt on yours.

You heard him settle at the table by the fire, and without looking, cast your voice behind you, “I still have my fathers belongings,” You told him, voice shy, “Seemed a waste to be rid of them when he passed. You may fit them. I’ll let you look through the trunk after supper so that you may have some cleaner, warmer clothes.”

A hum, and then, “Thank you. You are a gracious host.”

You blushed at his compliment, thankful that your back was turned to him so that he would not see you shy once more. Once your meal was cooked, you brought it over to the table for the two of you, including a plate of some of your scones, as well as the jam from Celia to go with them after.

It was a mostly silent affair, a tension strung between the two of you, pulled taught as the minutes went by. That was until-

“You are not married.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement of fact.

You blinked, taking your eyes away from your meal as you looked up at him.

He was already watching you.

But there was nothing malicious about his statement, more so curious as to why.

Aemond continued, “You are a beautiful young woman, a shame that you are not out in society.”

You swallowed thickly, feeling vulnerable at the turn of conversation.

You knew it was unheard of a woman of your age to be unwed, and not only that, alone in a usual mans position. You knew that the townsfolk at shore talked about it, whispers behind your back at why that was.

There had been a cruel rumour once that you simply enjoyed the coming and goings of the many different sailors who came to and from the port. It didn’t help that Dalton was not quiet about his interest in pursuing you, at least, not as his wife anyway.

“I am content where I am.” You sighed, “I have no desire to be flaunted on a mans arm as merely decoration. I have a responsibility to those on shore and on sea, and I doubt any man in town would know more about the mechanisms of working such a lamp than I do. They would be more of a burden than a blessing.”

Aemond blinked before lifting another steaming spoonful of food to his lips, “And do you not grow lonely on this little island?”

Did you?

You didn’t think you did.

At least, not until he arrived on your shore.

“Not at all.” And unconvincing lie, or perhaps not a full one, “William comes to bring my reprieve, and I go to and from shore as I wish for the whims of societal company.”

The man swallowed his mouthful of food, head cocked as he looked at you, “William?”

“An old friend of my fathers.” You explained, watching as he relaxed at the explanation, “Brings food and goods to me when I cannot get them my own, which is more often than not. His wife and daughters join him here on occasion.”

Aemond hummed, “It is a shame you have no feelings of loneliness.”

“A shame?”

The corner of his lip twitched, “I thought you might have enjoyed my company.” Before you could respond, he spoke again, “Though, perhaps it is not a shame after all. There is no husband that I need worry about.”

Heat rose into your cheeks fast, and a flush of hurt crept up your throat.

Of course he would make a comment about you being unwed.

He was just like the others in town.

“You mock me.” You grit angrily, hands twitching on the table.

You watched as a flash of regret creeped over his face.

“I don’t.” His tongue darted out to lick at his lips again, the hungry look in his eye not at all for the food on his plate, “I would worry that my attempt to court you would be burdened by a disgruntled husband.”

Court you.

Court.

Your stomach turned tightly, and you found yourself pushing your chair behind you quickly as you stood, grabbing your empty plate as you moved to take it to the kitchen, unsure of what to say, mouth dry and mind reeling.

As soon as your back turned, you heard a deep chuckle behind you, making your cheeks flush with heat once more. You did not even bother to clean your plate, instead dumping it into the dry sink before you snatched your coat off of the coat hook and moved to open the door.

“You cannot avoid me forever.” Came his low purr, and would if you tried.

The door thumped behind you as you swept yourself outside.

By the time you finally returned to the cottage, the night had flown away from you, having spent the majority of it trying to cool the heat in your body that he had stoked, resting your cheeks against the cool class of the lighthouse, anything to soothe the molten blood that coursed through you.

The storm had mostly passed, and your home was quiet as you snuck back inside, darkness filling the majority of the space bar the fireplace as you pulled your coat from your shoulders, back facing the room.

When you turned to walk further inside a small gasp pulled into your lungs.

“You’re awake.” You blinked at Aemond owlishly, watching as he leant back on the small worn couch, his long limbs stretched out in front of him by the fire, with one arm resting against the back.

“I am.” You shifted on your feet, unsure of what to do or say.

Damn your anxious mind, reeling in circles at the thought of him, and his desires and if he desired you as much as you desired him. And what if-

You shook the thought away, “Well, you must be tired. You need to rest so that you may go home. The storm is passing, and I’d wager that you could return to shore now.” You wrung your hands together.

You didn’t want him to go, but you knew it was logical.

He would have to leave. He would have to go home. To his family. To his friends. To his land. And then, you would be left alone with the spiralling 'what if's' of his stay.

“You speak of fatigue as if you sleep more than I, and do less.” Came his pointed remark, “I am well aware of my need to recover, and my abilities.”

Speechless.

That was what you were.

The fire crackled loudly between you as you watched him shift, moving to lay himself down onto the couch which was comically too small for him. His long legs stretched over the arm, feet dangling almost to the floor whilst his head was tucked at an awful angle on the opposite arm.

He looked like a doll that had been carelessly tossed onto the couch by a child.

“You need rest.” He mused, eye roaming over your body shamelessly, “I shall sleep where I am.”

Your brows furrowed, “You can’t suggest that you wish to sleep there.” Your hand pointed to where he was uncomfortably lain, “You do not fit. You shall see no rest and I will have to nurse you to health once more.”

“All the more reason for me to stay here.” His eye slid shut, seeming to make a point of sleeping on your lumpy and aged lounge.

You guffawed at him and his brazen flirting, mouth hanging open as your hands moved to your hips, “Go back to bed.”

His brow lifted, but his eye stayed shut, “A command or request?”

You blinked, “A request, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Will you be joining me?” Came his purr, eye cracked open at you, the bright lilac having turned as stormy as the sea once had been.

“No.”

Another hum, something you had grown used to by now, his eye sliding shut, “Then I shall stay put.”

You stormed towards him, looking down at him, trying to not notice how soft his hair looked, or how the pale skin of his chest looked like a cozy place to-

“Really, Sir.” You sighed, exacerbated, “I must implore you to sleep in the bed tonight. You will only hurt your neck and back. I am far smaller than you, and-“

“-Sīr byka.”

The language was smooth, the r curling in the front of his teeth, all creamy, and soft like syrup and warm. It sent heat straight into your core.

“What does that mean?”

His eye opened again as he sat up, “Would you like to know?”

Gods, he was infuriating.

“Yes.” You grit out, “Or else I wouldn’t have asked.”

“I said you were little.”

Embarrassment curled in your chest, but not only that, something else that sent heat striking through you.

You tried to blink it away, “An obvious observation. And the bed would fit you perfectly well, if only-“

“-Nyke kessa mazverdagon ziry-“

“-Would you stop that?” You snipped, chest heaving as you blushed, watching as the tall man pulled his legs down and sat up, looking at you predatorily.

You were in trouble.

Every hair on your body stood up as he watched you beneath his lashes.

“Stop what?”

You wet your lips, “T-that.”

“What, byka ōños?”

“That!” You pointed, running a hand through your hair, “You- You make a mockery of me.”

His head tilted, “I do no such thing.”

“You do.” You countered, looking anywhere but him, “You speak in tongues that I do not understand. For all I know, you could be throwing insult at my person. I know that I am not as educated as you-”

“-Do you want to know what it means? You only need ask.”

“What does it mean?” You breathed, watching as he stood from the couch, sucking all the air from the room as his head slowly came up to your height, then finally looming over you down his nose.

“What does ‘what’ mean?”

“Fine." You huffed, "You shall stay on the couch, and I shall send word tomorrow-“

“-Little light.”

You lashes fluttered against your cheeks as you felt him step closer to you, your chest heaving as one of his hands reached out to caress a lock of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You shivered as his fingertips grazed a path down your neck, his eye intent on you.

“W-what?”

“Byka ōños,” Aemond purred, “It means ‘little light’.” He took a step closer to you, his chest brushing against yours, warmth immediately seeping into your dress as you craned your head to look up at him, "Byka perzys.”

“And what does that mean?” Your voice was quiet, unsure, the air around you crackling with the tension that had been building for days.

“Little flame.” He translated, large palm moving behind your neck as he gripped the back of it softly, fingers tangling in your hair. Your breath hitched as he moved forward, his eye on your lips, yours on his.

“Byka jelevre.”

“What does t-“

Aemond’s lips crashed into yours hungrily, silencing your question. You squeaked, eyes widening before they slowly slid shut, hands coming to the front of his tunic as you fisted them tightly, rising on your tip toes to meet him. His kiss melted you, a fire being stoked in your gut steadily as the fingers in your hair tightened.

Then as sudden as it came, it stopped.

You were both panting, looking at one another as his tongue wet his lips.

“Fuck.” He growled, before crashing into you again, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip as you sighed into his embrace.

His other hand wrapped around your waist pulling you tightly against him as his tongue licked at your bottom lip. It was unfamiliar, uncertain, and your lips parted in a small gasp, immediately feeling his tongue lick tentatively at your mouth.

You were still, frozen as you thought of what to do as the hand on your waist moved to pull at your skirts hastily, dragging them up your legs.

And then, it was as though the fog was cleared, and your mind re-emerged. You pulled back with a gasp, hand gripping the wrist that was pulling at your skirts, your eyes searching his face with uncertainty.

And then, slowly, it dawned on him, realisation washing over his features.

“You’re untouched?” Came his quiet breath.

You swallowed, shutting your eyes to avoid his prying gaze, too afraid of his next reaction as you answered him.

“Yes.”

The warmth of his body left yours, and you almost subconsciously followed it, eyes reopening.

He looked at you with a new expression you could not quite understand.

Your chest ached to be held again, to feel his want and his hands pressed against your body. To feel his chest against yours, his lips on your own, his tongue teasing yours as you sighed into it. You wished to feel the calluses of his hands, and smell the salt and sandalwood that lingered around him.

You felt stupid for having told him, for having stopped him. You wished you hadn’t. You wished you had just let him have his way-

“-Apologies, Miss. I did not mean to overstep.”

Any thought that you had vanished, and you found yourself gasping for air like a fish out of water.

“I shall retire for the evening.” He took another step back, his eye not once leaving yours as he shifted his body towards your bedroom, “But if I do take your bed, I would like to earn my keep around your home as I recover.”

If this man did one more thing out of the ordinary, you thought your head may spin off your neck.

“Your keep?” You echoed, feeling the tingle in your lips from his kiss. '

Did he mean-

“-Work around the island. Cleaning, gardening. Anything that you need or want from me. I am yours.”

You felt that his last offer meant more, but you did not have the wherewithal to ask for elaboration, nor did you have the courage.

Gods, what was it about this man that turned you to syrup?

You nodded slowly, watching as relief washed over his features, “It is much appreciated, though I will be hard pressed to find things for you to do yet.” You shifted on your feet, hands wringing together once more, “I shall send word soon of your survival to shore. My pigeo-“

“-No.” Aemond said hastily, to which he recovered a moment afterwards, “No need until I am hale and healthy again. There is no point for false hopes, I may turn on the morrow.”

You shook your head, a small laugh falling from your lips, “I see no possibilities of you turning to meet the Stranger tomorrow. You-“

“-Please.” Came his voice once more, rough and quiet, and more strained than before, “Let me stay dead for a while longer.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@blackswxnn @marihoneywk @targaryenrealnessdarling @namelesslosers @aemondsfavouritebastard @dahlias-and-marigolds @aemondsbabygirl @toodlesxcuddles @jemmaagentofshield @malfoytargaryen @bellaisasleep @aaprilshowers @assortedseaglass @elizarbell @xpersephonex @lijeno @likeanecho344 @coffeeobsessedtrencher @diannnnsss @lexwolfhale @notasockpuppetaccount @at-a-rax-ia @spinachtz@marysucks-blog @generalkenobitrash @zenka69 @shygardengalaxy-blog @kittendoll05

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #hotd fanfic #lighthouse!Aemond #asumofwords lighthouse #sailor!aemond #LighthouseKeeper!reader #sailor!Aemond x reader #Sailor!Aemond #LighthouseKeeper!Reader #Asumofwords Lighthouse #shipwreck!aemond

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turtletaubwrites · 8 months

Text

One Shots & Requests Masterlist

18+ ONLY. MDNI. SOME FICS CONTAIN DARK CONTENT. Currently writing for One Piece. All of these fics are NSFW and Fem!Reader unless marked otherwise. Content warnings and Ao3 links can be found on each post. This post updates frequently! Check out the main masterlist for completed and ongoing series, as well as WIP updates and announcements! One shots related to the poly fic We've All Got Needs can be read on their own, and are marked with a 💜

Ace

The Only One I Want ~ (1657) ~ You have a delicious dream about a certain swordsman. Your boyfriend, Ace, is not pleased when you wake up. (Brief Zoro x Fem!Reader in a dream.)

My Pretty Little Thief ~ (2004) ~ Ace knows where he left his hat. But when it's not there, he hunts it down, only to discover the culprit. How can he convince the thief to return his precious hat?

Buggy

You’d Do Anything For Me, Wouldn’t Ya, Doll? ~ (2104) ~ You are Captain Buggy’s Vicious Dagger, his blade tossing beauty that recently became his lover. You’d do anything for him, and tonight you prove it.

Crocodile

Wrong Side of the Bars ~ (3990) ~ Your promotion landed you in hell, otherwise known as Level 6 of Impel Down. All you wanted to do was work this shit job so you could move on up, but there's one prisoner that won't leave you alone. It turns out those long nights go by faster with a bit of company.

Cross Guild

Numbers Game ~ Masterlist ~ (Oops. Turned into a series.) ~ You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender and his new business partner.

Katakuri

Sweet Abduction ~ (4084) ~ Part 2 ~ (2175) ~ Part 3 (End) ~ (3781) ~ Times are tough, and you're afraid you'll have to give up the family business, until you find people who cherish your work. Who knew making doughnuts would gain you the attention of an Emperor of the Sea, and her second son? Will your new life be as sweet as it seemed?

More fics below the cut 🖤

Law

See How You Like It ~ (1927) ~ Law is back from another fiasco with the Straw Hats. You think he's cute when he's grumpy. He thinks you should have some more respect for your captain.

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist ~ (Oops. Turned into a series. Completed) ~ !! YANDERE!Law x Fem!Reader !! DARK CONTENT !! ~ You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Misty Eyes ~ Masterlist ~ (Oops. Turned into a series. Ongoing) ~ (Includes Doflamingo x Fem!Reader in the past & flashbacks) !! DARK CONTENT !! ~ You were the weakest member of the Donquixote Family, so Doflamingo found another way you could serve him. Until your childhood crush found you, freeing you from those chains. What will Law expect in return?

Such a Softie ~ (461 ~ Drabble) (SFW) (GN!Reader) ~ Law is struggling to help you with your pain, until he has an idea. This is the coziest treatment you've ever received.

Luffy

My Favorite Kinds of Nights 💜 ~ (2375) ~ Part 2 ~ (3625) ~ You are enjoying a quiet moment away from the feast while the crew celebrates another victory. Your three partners, Robin, Sanji, and Zoro are occupied for the evening, so you take time to relax. Until you receive an unexpected request from your captain.

Multi and/or Character x Character

Same Time ~ (1123) ~ Zoro x Fem!Reader x Sanji ~ Your boyfriends are always arguing, but sometimes you're the one that wins the fight. Tonight the battle is for who gets to go first.

So What? ~ (SFW) ~ (1096) ~ Zoro x Sanji ~ An enemy catches Zoro eying Sanji in the middle of a fight. Zoro doesn't care, until they make the mistake of threatening the cook.

One Piece x Introverted!Reader (SFW) ~ Headcanons & Drabbles ~ Zoro, Sanji, and Robin

The Sounds You Made 💜 ~ (1422) ~ Sanji x Fem!Reader, Zoro x Fem!Reader ~ Sanji overhears you discussing and enjoying your casual arrangement with Zoro. He doesn't like the way Zoro talks to you, so he listens in to make sure you're okay.

Lucky Boy 💜 ~ (2561) ~ Sanji x Robin ~ Robin and Sanji have been dating you for a while, but tonight is their first date together. How will the cook and the archaeologist get along?

In Control ~ 💜 (2599) ~ Zoro x Robin ~ Robin and Zoro have been dating you for a while, but tonight is their first date together. How will the swordsman and the archaeologist get along?

You Never Shut Up, Do You? 💜 ~ (1323) ~ Zoro x Nami ~ Nami has watched you enjoy your poly relationships with Zoro and Sanji for a while. She's got an itch that needs scratching, and she decides to see if Zoro can help her out.

I Saw You First 💜 ~ (1451) ~ Part 2 ~ (1309) ~ Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader ~ You have a casual arrangement with Zoro, but he isn't happy that you'll be seeing Sanji tonight. He tries to get his mind off of things, but overhears you enjoying your time with the cook. Can he control his anger?

Touching What's Yours 💜 ~ (815) ~ Part 2 ~ (2344) ~ Part 3 ~ (6048) ~ Zoro x Sanji, Zoro x Fem!Reader x Sanji ~ You have a casual arrangement with Zoro, but he isn't happy that you had your first night with Sanji tonight. Zoro overheard some of your time together, and his rage kept him from sleeping. Instead, Zoro has gone to confront the cook for taking what's his.

Sanji

Sleeping Beauty 💜 ~ (2646) ~ Your boyfriend has yet another kink he'd like to explore with you. You tell Sanji that you trust him to take care of you, even while you're sleeping.

Filthy Little Angel 💜 ~ (1323) ~ Sanji requests to try a new way to worship your body. You know your boyfriend will take good care of you.

Parted Lips (SFW) ~ (1734) ~ Sanji has made another meal just for you, but it's still too painful to eat. You open up to Sanji about your jaw pain, and he offers to help you work through it.

Sanji's Super Birthday Present 💜 ~ (988) ~ Part 2 (End) ~ (1105) ~ You work up the nerve to ask Franky for help with a gift for Sanji. You hope your birthday boy will like his new toy.

Gag Order ~ (3268) ~ You catch your boyfriend flirting with another woman, and you can't stop your worries. Until you decide to use your talents as a hypnotist to make sure you're the only one Sanji flirts with. He told you he only wants to be with you, so what's the harm in helping him keep that promise?

Shanks

A Good Catch ~ (4367) ~ Part 2 ~ (5030) ~ Part 3 ~ (4613) ~ Part 4 (End) ~ (4275) ~ You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.

Zeff

My Lovely Patron ~ (1300) ~ Part 2 ~ (1922) ~ You are a journalist following a story about fishmen attacking a floating restaurant. You try to ply the head chef with wine for some details, but end up getting something else instead.

Zoro

Just a Dream ~ (1288) ~ You have a delicious dream about your captain's brother. Your boyfriend, the first mate, is not pleased when you wake up. (Brief Ace x Fem!Reader in a dream)

Hogging the Blankets 💜 ~ (1210) ~ Zoro hogged the blankets, so you try to wake him. He tells you what you need to do now that you've woken him up.

Fighting Dirty 💜 ~ (2341) ~ You can’t help it when you get distracted by Zoro during training sessions, so he brings the sparring mats to the bedroom to teach you a lesson.

Mama Bear ~ (2606) ~ (Modern AU) ~ You're a gogo dancer, and you bring Zoro to a rave on your night off, wanting to show your boyfriend what that part of your life is like. Zoro can't help but notice how much you like to take care of people, and he has some thoughts on the matter.

Zoro x GN!Swordsman!Reader (with a powerful/unique sword) (SFW) ~ Headcanons & Drabble

A Swordsman's Shame ~ (SFW) (GN!Reader) ~ (1530) ~ You and Zoro have the same dream, and it's built a passion between you. But something has been holding you back, keeping you from opening yourself up to your crewmate, your rival, your fellow swordsman.

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seiya-starsniper · 8 months

Note

"Oh I'm dreaming of you again. If I wouldn't be dreaming and if you would be really here, then I would tell you I love you."

*slides $5 across the table* dreamling. you know what must be done.

Ayyyy I FINALLY got around to doing this one! 😅😅 Starting my birthday off right with a present for you! 💖💖

[AO3 Link Here]

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When war comes to the Endless Empire, Ser Robert Gadling, known simply as Hob to his men, is on the front lines of the defense effort, fighting for his monarch and the love of his life. The second title is a secret he keeps close to his breast, for there are no scenarios in which a Knight would be deemed the type of lover fit for a King.

The war is long and brutal. The Morningstar Kingdom had timed their invasion well, choosing to strike in the heat of summer, ideal conditions for soldiers who were born and raised in lands far hotter and more unforgiving than Hob had ever known. Their forces are fierce, but Hob’s are fiercer, for they have something to protect, mothers and wives, sons and daughters.

Hob only has his King. Orphaned at a young age, Hob was recruited as a foot soldier into the royal army as soon as he was of age, and his quick thinking and heroics on the battlefield earned him a coveted place in the royal court, right as the Endless family had established themselves as monarchs of the realm.

Try as he did to be polite, Hob did not fit easily into a life of court politics. He could not hide his brusque mannerisms, his frank manner of speech, and it was that attitude that endeared him to King Morpheus years ago, establishing a unique friendship most other nobles would sneer at.

Hob never cared for noble opinions before King Morpheus, and to this day he still did not. It is his king’s face that he sees in his mind’s eye as he cuts down the Morningstar’s soldiers, pushing their forces further back. It is his king’s voice that rings in his ears as he and his men march through the pouring rain, caked in mud, blood, and sweat. It is his king’s eyes that Hob sees in the moments after an arrow pierces through his armor, knocking him off his horse and rendering him unconscious.

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

When King Morpheus receives word that the battalion Hob was leading had fallen in battle with no known survivors, he nods solemnly and dismisses the messenger, along with the rest of his court to give those who had lost a son, brother, or lover, time to mourn.

What his court does not know, however, is that once the throne room is empty, Morpheus collapses to the floor and weeps. He weeps for his fallen people, for the lives that this pointless war has cost his kingdom, but in particular he weeps for Robert—no, Hob Gadling, his oldest and most treasured friend.

Hob had been one of the only members of Morpheus’s court that did not treat him like the outsider he was when he was appointed king. When the Endless came to power, they divided the small municipalities into their own kingdoms, placing each of their seven children as the reigning monarch. Dream had suffered many cutting remarks and passive aggressive attacks, but Hob had been open and honest with him, even if their relationship did not start off in the most positive manner.

To know now that Morpheus would no longer hear Hob’s laugh, would never again be able to break bread and share stories over a warm open fire with him, that he would never feel the warm touch of the other man’s hand upon his shoulder, was more than the king could bear. He retires early to his bed, and spends the next days alone in bedchambers, claiming a sudden illness, but in truth, he is mourning for what could have been, what he was too cowardly to reach for, what he could have had, if only he’d been brave enough to confess how he felt.

And now, it was too late.

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

When Hob finally escapes his imprisonment behind enemy lines, he leaves a trail of bodies in his wake, including the head of the Morningstar King. He steals a horse and rides away into the night, desperate to return to his men and tell them that everything is over. The war is over. The Morningstar and their warriors will trouble them no longer.

When he comes across the nearest army camp flying the Endless flag, he heads immediately for the general’s tent. But instead of finding his second-in-command, he finds King Morpheus there, sprawled across what was once Hob’s bedroll, a cup of some unknown liquid in his hand. When he sees Hob enter, he freezes and drops the cup immediately, and the smell of cheap liquor fills the air between them.

“Oh,” King Morpheus whispers in a broken tone that absolutely breaks Hob’s heart. “I'm dreaming of you again.” As Hob steps further into the tent, he can see the king’s brilliant blue eyes are stained red from crying, and his cheeks too are covered in tear tracks that criss-cross along his face. It is breathtaking and beautiful, agonizing and unbearable, all at once.

“I am no dream,” Hob says softly as he approaches his king. Had he put those tears on his lord’s face? Had Morpheus thought him dead the entire time he’d been imprisoned?

“Oh but you are, for why else would a dead man stand before me and haunt my grieving heart so?” Morpheus replies, his breath hitching now as his body threatens to start sobbing anew. “Why else would I see you, if not as a reminder for every unspoken word, every regret I hold for not confessing to you you my deepest desires?"

Now it is Hob’s turn to gasp, his heart beating wildly in his breast. Surely there was no way that Morpheus was alluding to sharing the same desires as Hob. But then, why else would his king be here, in Hob’s tent, laying amongst Hob’s things, acting as a grieving widow, if he didn’t not feel like one himself?

Hob takes another step closer, and though Morpheus startles, he does not flinch back from him. Hob then kneels down in front of his king so that they are eye to eye, and steels his nerves for what he plans to say next.

“What would tell me, my liege, were you not caught in the thrall of a dream?” Hob asks. “What words do you hold in your heart that you could tell me before?”

Morpheus chuckles, and it sounds like shattered glass.

“If I were not dreaming?” he asks. “If I wouldn't be dreaming and if you would be really here, then I would tell you I love you, Robert Gadling.”

Hob he gives up all semblance of self control and brings his hands to his king’s face. Morpheus gasps at the touch and Hob wants to kiss him, wants to pull this beautiful, wonderful man into his arms and never let him go.

“You’re—” Morpheus breathes, his eyes filled with tears once more. “You’re alive.”

Hob nods. “It is not a dream,” he says. “Touch me, and feel that I am real.”

Morpheus lunges towards him and seals their lips together in a kiss. Hob kisses him back, uncaring of the fact that any random soldier could walk in at any moment. All that matters to him now is that he and Morpheus are reunited, that he is alive, and in love with someone who loves him back. That is all that matters, for tonight.

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #the sandman #sandman fanfiction #seiya writes dreamling #seiya's birthday prompt fills #gonna be posting fics every few hours!

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starillusion13 · 1 year

Text

PRECIOUS

Pairing: Prince!Seonghwa x f!reader x Prince!Hongjoong

Genre: Royal, Fantasy, Angst, Yandere

Warnings: crying, controlling nature, possessiveness, suggestive themes, using a sleeping potion needle.

W.C: 3.5k

Note: Thanks to the people loving my works and supporting them. I love to read your reviews in my dms so feel free to dm me. Thanks for joining the event.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Request from: @warpedspirit

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @yeoobin @tainsan ( I didn’t know which account to tag 🥹)

👑

*under the cut*

The kingdom Halazia was ruled by the king, Zeeth. His first wife who died at a young age has a son named Park Seonghwa and the second wife has a son named Kim Hongjoong. The Title for the sons were after their mother because they didn’t want their fathers title to be given to them as they passionately hated that man.

Two months ago, the king suddenly died of a mysterious fever. Not even the best medic in the kingdom found the cause for the untimely end so this leaves only the younger queen to take over the family proceedings. The situation was very difficult for her to handle and let alone the princes who are not even bothered by their father death.

The elder Prince, Park Seonghwa who has a great physique with light toned skin and always keeping a sword attached to the waist band, the handle is designed with blue and silver crystals which highlights the shining silvery blade more. The prince attires always look the best on him and make it seems like the position pf prince is designated for him. He has the piercing eyes like an eagle as if he can read your soul with a single glance at you which can make you feel exposed even though you are fully covered with materials. His sharpness of eyes is slightly hidden with the black strokes of the bangs falling over his eyes similarly the way the sharpness of the blade is separating through the handle from his hand. Even though having such a strong aura with the sharp facial features his personality is a bit contrasting in usual. He has a sweet voice which can easily lure you into his well-planned trap and his calm and peaceful nature can convince you to speak all your hidden truths to him. Well, that’s the trap where he will attract you with his caring nature and gets to know everything about you which may not be always good.

The younger Prince, Kim Hongjoong whose name can alone scream the dominance over every possible thing. He is born to be a king. He is slightly shorter than the eldest prince but his pointy noise and thick eyebrows and the evil glint in his eyes with the dirty smirk as if he whatever he does or say is the last option for everyone makes everyone else surrounding him feel smaller to him. Don’t ever dare to say him short if you don’t want to die early. He is totally ruthless unlike his brother’s calm personality. But both of them having same interests on something or hating the same thing similarly which make them most powerful. Hongjoong has a folding knife whose heavy metal portion is designed with black crystals totally matching with his dark personality. His only emotions are for his mother and his brother. He does not have to make you believe him because no matter what he will do it with force whenever its possible.

Likely, the commoners are well aware of their hatred towards the king because they don’t like the rules of the kingdom set by the king. They both can be the most powerful duo among all the neighbouring kingdoms if they get pissed off with something. Most commonly known as The Django Brothers because of this consistent and ruthless personality when together. The king’s death announces Seonghwa as the next ruler of Halazia but his love for his brother made him to come up with a final decision for the kingdom’s future attention.

“I will not be ruling this kingdom alone, I want my brother to be the part of this as well.” Seonghwa sitting elegantly on the throne in a dark blue prince attire looking flawless on the antic throne of the king seems like a perfect protector of Halazia. He is looking around the court hall to scan the faces for any disapproval. Hongjoong standing behind him in a black furry fit which more seems like the enemy or the destroyer of the kingdom and also with the visible smirk on his. He is observing everyone present there while playing with his pocket knife making everyone startled with every opening striking sound.

The head of the general gulped when taking in the look of the younger prince and spoke up, “We all agree with your plans Prince Seonghwa even we are measuring the land to divide the north sector and the south sector equally. The commoners are also happy for the decision on finding two future kings which can lead to betterment of the kingdom as you both can give proper attention to the respective parts rather focusing on vast areas alone.”

“Equal sectors? Do you think we will get jealous of each other huh?” The younger prince spoke and the head of the general is trying to avoid being under his heavy gaze.

“It is King Seonghwa and King Hongjoong for you all and I want this news to be announced all over the kingdom within evening.” Everyone nodded their head in return not wanting to displease any of the kings.

“Also tell everyone that my little sons are big enough to get married and am searching for beautiful and talented girls who can take care of my sons and teach them right way to behave maybe then these two can become a real human.” The youngest queen chuckled when coming to the middle of the hall.

Everyone feels relaxed with the joke and her playful presence and they all bowed to the queen and smiled towards her.

The two princes groaned on hearing the statement, “Mother, you know the kingdom is enough for having two rulers so there is no need of a woman. We can take care of everything alone.” Hongjoong interjects.

“But you can’t take care of your feelings for love, the loneliness will break you down my son.” She looks at both of them sympathetically.

“We can and we will show you how.” Seonghwa spoke up but with a respectful gesture towards the queen.

The ministers and generals started to leave the hall one by one when the queen made a quick gesture to the business minister to spread her wanting news for marriage.

“Father?….” A sweet honey like voice chirped in from a corner. All the attention turns towards that direction. The two princes are having the confuse look where the queen is grinning towards the new comer. The head general was last to leave when on hearing the voice halted in his step.

“Oh! Look I forgot to tell you who I brought here, General she was waiting at the gate for you and I heard that you don’t talk to your daughter.” The general glared to the girl standing behind the queen but instantly changed his expression to face the royals.

“Your honour, Queen Aeris I would like to apologize in behalf of her but I would like to take my leave here.” General plainly stated.

“This is your daughter?” The youngest prince scanning the girl as if like an animal getting ready to jump on his prey that instance. The girl hesitated in her place under his gaze.

“Y/N?” Seonghwa softly called the girl. The girl and queen both looked at him with big round eyes.

“Ah, finally my son recognized her. So, you should know now why she is here.” The queen clapped her hands happily and went away when a maid whispered something in her ears.

Seonghwa still looking at her when she is just looking around for what to say to him. Hongjoong suddenly spoke up, “Y/N? you mean our Y/N, our precious? My precious?”

Seonghwa nodded in reply which made his brother to show his dirty smirk again. Hongjoong turned towards the general, “So you kept her hidden from us all these days? Why?”

“Joong and Hwa, he is not to blame here. I kept myself away from this place because I need to take care of myself because father- “

“Don’t call me father, You witch, good for nothing. I don’t want your presence in front of my eyes.”

“That’s so ridiculous. Raising your voice in front of us and also on her?” Hongjoong asked the general with a dangerous expressionless look. The general apologized again and the elder prince signalled him to leave the place without wanting to hear anything further from him.

“You both remembered me still?” You are a bit happy and tensed at the same time with their presence.

“How can we forget the one who made our childhood the most bearable and memorable one. The one who respected and also befriended us before knowing us being royals. You are so different Y/N.” Seonghwa smiled for the first time in the whole day. Hongjoong took a quick glance at his brother and added, “You are the precious gem to us. See we decorated our sword and knife according to the colors you stated suite us.” He holds his knife towards you and Seonghwa also retreat his sword from the waist band to show it to you.

“That’s so nice that you still care for our friendship but we should not treat each other like before now because things are different since then. We have grown up and …….I’m engaged to Haechan.”

The two prince ears perked up on hearing the name of a male coming out of your mouth and also the fact that you are engaged. Seonghwa’s smile disappeared for a second but he quickly regained it while facing you but Hongjoong is totally losing his composure.

“Who? Haechan? Who is this person? When did this all happened?” Seonghwa quickly stated acting all normal but is few inches away to just rip this said person’s head off. He took a few steps to stand closer and in front of you. You are slightly shorter than them so you glanced upward with fear in your eyes because you are suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the fact that the person before you is not happy with your statement. Hongjoong’s heavy footsteps echoed inside the empty big hall which stopped just right behind you. You can feel the gaze behind you is burning hole in the back of your head.

Seonghwa putting the loose hair strands behind your ears with a smile which is totally mocking your fear, “We can’t just accept that you are engaged Y/N.”

“Huh? What do you mean you can’t?” You know the three of you can’t be close friends when you are just a commoner with two royals. People would not like this relation among you three.

“Oh precious! We can't lose you again when we just got you after so many years. We did not just wait for you to come back and say that you are going away from us forever.” You are not sure if Seonghwa is hurt with your engagement as he won’t be seeing his friend again or is he referring to something else which you can’t even think can be possible.

You retreat your steps back from his close proximity but to your dismay your back bumped into a hard yet fury chest. You got startled, thin back of your floral old town villager gown is not helping but feeling the furs stinging in your back. You turned your head to at least glance at the person behind you and found he is smirking at you with a lust filled eyes. Your attention was brought back to the front when Seonghwa holds your chin to make eye contact with you and suddenly you felt two palms resting on both of your shoulders. The sudden contact with two males making a chill shiver run down your body. Your eyes searching in the opposite eyes for the emotions to feel because everything is so confusing for you in the moment.

Seonghwa looked down at you smiling and then looked behind you, you can feel they are communicating with each other through eyes which makes you feel outcast between them. The hold on your chin is moved to brushing your cheeks with his long soft fingers when the thumb slowly touched your lower lips and keeping the movement in a slow trans. Your right hand moved up in reflex to take a hold of his wrist.

“What are you doing?” You softly asked him with a fearful expression.

“My Precious…..” Joong whispered breathily in your left ear and his hands falling from your shoulders and sneaking to hug you from behind. His head then resting on your left shoulder. You exhaled a heavy shaky breath and closed your eyes.

“Look at me!” the command from the eldest prince really dominated over the movement of your body for which you immediately looked up at him expecting him to have any dark look but he was looking at you softly.

“Tell me love, do you want to go back to him?”

“Huh? …..To my father? ” your eyebrows creased with the question. Hwa nodded to which you strongly showed your denial by shaking your head.

The prince behind you now asked, “and to him?”

“Who again?”

“Your fiancé?” your fearful expression returned to confused as to why is he asking you this obvious question and the uneasiness making you to wiggle under the two holds which made them to hold you tighter.

“Oh him! Yes of course I would go there …...that’s my home after my father kicked me out.” The answer didn’t help the situation either for your uneasiness. Seonghwa is no more smiling at you but glaring dangerously.

“No you won’t.” Hongjoong stated blankly.

“Why?”

“He is not good. He is no one in your life. The only men you are allowed to have in your life is me and Hwa.” He hugged you tightly and felt his lips kissed your exposed neck lightly. You left out a soft moan for the contact and looking down but quickly looked up.

“What are you saying?” You are now asking to both of them.

“He has said you already love, that only men that is yours is us. You belong to us.”

“I don’t belong to you. Please leave me, I need to go.”

“You think we will let you go now?” Seonghwa smirked at your miserable state under his brother’s hold. His hand on your cheek moved upward to pat your head before going back a few steps to take in your whole look while you were struggling to get away from the back hug. Hongjoong is snuggling in your neck which made your eyes a bit watery. Again, he came closer to you and smashed his lips on you. You tried to move your head to retreat from the kiss but nothing is helping when he holds your face tightly to glare at you for a second and again returned back to kiss you.

In the same time, Hongjoong is giving you butterfly kisses all over neck and over the bit of your shoulders visible. Your hands are restricted by him preventing their movement. Seonghwa’s kiss is rough as if he is a hungry beast who haven’t got his meal for last few weeks. Both of the male stopped their movement. You are weeping quietly while looking down. The lose of their hold didn’t help your weak legs to let you stand still any longer when you suddenly fall on your knees and hid your face in your palms and continued weeping.

Seonghwa felt a wave of guilt within him but quickly brushed it off. Hongjoong came in front of you and knelt down to move your hands blocking your face. Your teary eyes looked at him with hatred and fear. The man didn’t even bother to acknowledge your anger but he assures your fear with a soft kiss on top of your head. His one hand takes a hold of back of your head to push it softly against his chest to stroke you softly in a comforting way. Your hands takes a hold of his furry coat. Fur should be a place of comfort but this fur is like a needle to you.

“Why…… why a-are you d-doing this?” You questioned between your crying.

“Its okay precious, nothing is wrong. We are doing what we should have done way before.”

Seonghwa also mimicked his brother’s expression beside him to stroke your back. You moved back from Joong’s chest to look at them. Both of them are dearly smiling at you.

“We are your kings, love.”

Joong added to his brother, “and You are our Precious.”

“……no”

“Love, there is no other option for you except accepting this.” Hwa is grinning while speaking.

You shake your head side by side while thinking for what to say, “Please…...”

“Please what love?”

“I want to go.”

Hongjoong glared at you before standing up. “Hwa, take her to our room and let me have a talk with them about her and I will ask for you if I need help.”

“Sure Joong, we need to tell everyone that they have got their kings and the precious queen.”

Seonghwa tightly holds your wrist to make you stand and starts pulling you to the grand door of the hall to exit, you looked towards the younger prince to see him staring at you dangerously with a smirk “What will you talk to them about?”

Then you tried to wiggle your hand out of the tight grip which is hurting you a bit, “Where are you taking me to? Where is Joong going? What is going on?”

“Oh, don’t worry about him, he will be back soon till then we can enjoy ourselves. He needs to finish a meeting with your father and …..Haechan.”

“No, you don’t have to talk to them. I need to go back to him. Leave me.”

“Shut up. We own you and no one can dare to change it.” Hwa laughed in the end of his reply which is followed by Joong’s laugh.

“You don’t own me, I’m not a property please……” You are about to cry again. Hwa glanced at Joong when he stepped closer to you and suddenly hugged you. You are confused but before contemplating the situation you felt a needle like something pierced the skin near your backside of the neck. Your eyes felt heavy and your weight is leaning towards his body which he gladly took a good hold of it. He caressed your head before lifting you up in a bridal style. Footsteps came near you both and the last thing you heard,

“I need to go now to say goodbye to your father and your fiancé but we can continue everything later Precious.”

“Our Precious.”

(Do you readers need part 2? Spicy or soft?)

Here is the part 2! Out now!

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #yandere seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #yandere ateez #yandere hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez au #poly ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez fic #a star 🌟#ateez seongjoong #ateez poly #cultofdionysusnet #kvanity

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lawsofchaos1 · 7 months

Text

Malec Promptlet: Circle!Alec AU

[Inspired by a comment from @crimsonpharaoh on my latest fic about the Circles very failed attempt to recruit Alec... What if they didn't fail?]

Alec is the eldest son and the acknowledged heir of two prominent, highly-ranked Circle members that are openly known to have recanted Valentine’s ideology in name only. When Robert and Maryse begin leaving the Institute in Alec’s care when he’s fourteen it becomes clear that Alec isn’t relying on his bloodline alone and is going to be an immensely powerful member of the Clave in his own right.

The Circle would be utterly foolish not to recruit the Shadowhunter who is absolutely certain to become the next Head of the New York Institute. Especially when it becomes evident that the Shadowhunters of the New York Institute would happily lay down their lives for their beloved young leader. Whichever way Alec turns in this war, so too will New York.

Kept wholly apart from the Downworld and with no formative mentors other than his parents, the Circle tries to recruit Alec … and Alec says yes. Everything he’s been taught says that Valentine is right - that the Downworld is a threat, and - well, Valentine’s not stupid. It’s clear that Alec is too ethical for torture and the worst of his planned experiments - but the Head of New York openly sympathetic to his cause? Aiding it, even subtly? Valentine is careful in his recruitment and how he presents the Circle’s aims. It works.

In canon, Alec is held back as he works because his pro-Downworld values are so far against the standards of the Clave, but if he doesn’t have that friction working against him? Alec rises fast and far in the ranks, quickly becoming the Vested Head of New York with his parent’s vocal support and he dominates the Clave’s political circles in Alicante. His Institute is loyal to Alec, utterly, and follows his lead. With the careful way Valentine (and Maryse) present the results of his actions to Alec, he has no cause to doubt the righteousness of his support for the Circle's planned rise.

Until he meets Magnus.

Magnus and Alec meet by sheer happenstance, literally running into each other on the streets of Brooklyn on one of the passingly rare afternoons Alec takes off both his patrol and administrative duties. Alec takes one look at the most beautiful man he’s ever seen in his life and is so tongue-tied he nearly fumbles accepting the resultant invitation for coffee.

For months, Alec grows deeper and deeper in love with the gorgeous and kind mundane, glowing in a way that’s noticeable even to his typically highly unobservant siblings. Alec has slowly begun to dreaming about them making a life together. Alec's is certain Magnus' soul would be deemed worthy of Ascension, but, even if Magnus isn't interested in becoming nephilim, Alec loves Magnus with everything he is and can't picture his life without Magnus by his side.

And then Alec’s world falls apart.

Magnus, just as glowing and just as in love, sits Alec down and quietly, nervously, tells him about the Shadow World. Tells Alec he’s a warlock.

If Magnus is a Downworlder, then nothing Alec has believed for his entire life can be true.

Alec is numb and disbelieving, but Magnus must take it as shock alone for he continues in his explanation, rubbing Alec’s back soothingly as he describes the terror and genocidal aims of the Circle.

Alec somehow manages to rasp out to Magnus that he needs time to think and he flees.

With a starting point Alec had somehow never considered over the last seven years, the threads start to pull apart and everything Valentine hid from him unravels in a series of horrible revelations that leave Alec throwing up bile in his sink.

What has he done?

The next morning, Alec rises from the cold bathroom floor, limbs aching and head throbbing from lack of sleep. Silently, he goes into his office and gathers every document he has on the Circle’s activities. Everything he’s done for them, every horrible political aim he’s aided, every safehouse he’s helped conceal. He writes down names, he writes down dates and addresses, he sketches out images of the Circle members he’s seen and has no other information for. It takes him nearly until the sun’s last rays are fading before he’s done.

And then he disarms himself. His bow and quiver. His blades and daggers. His stele. Even the slim hold-out weapon in his boot. Nothing remains.

Alec takes up his parcel of documentation and walks to Brooklyn, every step an inch closer to his grave. Every step an inch closer to his love - to Magnus, the High Warlock of New York.

When Magnus opens the door in leggings and only the barest make-up, Alec’s heart breaks. To Magnus, his mundane boyfriend had reacted very poorly to learning of the Shadow World yesterday. Badly enough that he likely is worried what Alec is here to say.

And Alec would give nearly anything to wrap his partner in a warm, familiar embrace and soothe his worries away, but Alec doesn’t deserve the comfort that would bring him too. He doesn’t deserve to even look at Magnus anymore.

Magnus brings him into the living room, gesturing him to the couch, but Alec stops short in the bare space in front of the coffee table. He looks to Magnus, memorizes for one final time what it is to have the man he loves look at him without hate and disgust in his eyes, and sinks to his knees on the ground.

Magnus turns around, startled, mouth open to protest, but Alec can’t listen to that - can’t hear what Magnus says before he knows of Alec’s sins.

He places the parcel of information on the floor in front of him, focuses his gaze on his knees and confesses.

Everything.

#lawsofchaos rambles #malec #shadowhunters #alec lightwood deserves nice things #Significant Kneeling #magnus bane deserves nice things #promptlet #canon divergent au

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silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years

Text

this time it's forever

─── max talks, he loves to talk. especially about her.

pairing: max verstappen x her warnings: this is sad; mentions of loss & death

“how do you know her?”

max turns his head in the direction of the voice. he doesn’t recognize the old lady who sits beside him, but he smiles politely anyways. he shuffles over a little bit to give her room to set her purse down.

“she’s my best friend, and my first love.” he smiles fondly as he turns towards the front of the room, staring at the smile he had fallen for all those years ago. “how about you?”

“extended family, she’s my grand-niece. it’s nice that you came.”

“how could i not?” he chuckles softly, looking down at his lap. his hands slide down his thighs, down to the tops of his knees, an anxious tick he never quite got over. the little old lady hums softly beside him, shifting left to right in his seat trying to get a view of the front of the room.

“i’m pretty sure i see some seats towards the front of the room,” max offers, craning his neck to look over the rows of people ahead of him.

“nonsense, the seat i have his perfectly fine. i also don’t want to leave you, son. i don’t think this is something you should be alone for.”

max is grateful, the corners of lips twitching upwards and his cheeks indenting ever so lightly. little old lady introduces herself as nana, and nothing else. she offers him a peppermint from her purse, but he declines shyly.

“so, tell me about her.”

he can’t help the thoughtful smile that graces his lips as he remembers her and the moments he was given to love her. he tells nana about meeting her. she was alone in the back corner of the restaurant, dipping bread in oil and vinegar. he spotted her from the other end of the room, also on a date that wasn’t doing all too well either. she sat for a whole hour, nursing bottomless bread and a martini, before he finally got up and walked over to her. his date was in the bathroom— had been in the bathroom for a while at that point. if he had to guess, she probably left after she realized he had been looking past her the entire time.

he talks about the conversation over another basket of bread, another hour of small talk turned big. he tells nana about how he asked for her number and her refusal to give it. meet me here next friday at 7, maybe then i’ll give you my number, she said.

so he showed up that following friday at 6:45. he sat on the bench outside and waited for her to walk by. and the rest is history.

he tells nana that her favorite color is a deep red, but also a light peach. she likes morning runs, and always has two glasses of water right after she’s done. she hates asparagus, but max managed to convince her to try it once. she loves traveling— her favorite place to go to is st. moritz. she loves the snow, she loves being in the cold.

he talks about how great she is, how selfless she’s always been. he says that he fell for her and the way she listened. she always listened, even if max had been talking for hours (which he has), she listens like it’s only been a minute. she is compassionate, caring, and she loves with every fiber of herself.

he tells nana that she’s one of the greatest people he’s ever met.

“well… what went wrong?”

max leans back into the chair, shrugging his shoulders. “what always goes wrong. we grew apart, wanted different things. it was never anything bad, and even when we ended things we remained friends.”

nana smiles at him, leans over and pats his leg. “you’re a good boy.”

he’s never really been known to be— good that is. always in the wrong, always never enough. max is the furthest thing from a good boy. but the way nana said it made him believe it was true. he smiles at the older woman, before turning back to the front of the room. he sees your smile again, it breaks his heart a little.

“he’s cute, do you know him?”

max follows her finger, finding charles standing at the front of the room right next to her. he wears the same suit that he is, black over a white button up. the knot of his tie is done up tightly, neat and pressed. max is sure he learned that from her.

“yeah, that’s charles. we work together, had some great battles too. he’s a good guy.”

charles is everything max isn’t. a charmer, always enough. charles is a good guy.

“i actually was the one to introduce them,” max continues.

max talks, he loves to talk. he tells nana that they had met when she visited him in monaco. she pulled him out of bed for a morning run and they ran into charles when he was on his way in. they’d always been friendly after that, charles always smiling and saying hello. there wasn’t any overlap, max reassures. they started dating two years after she and max called it quits. she called him one night, it had been a while since he’d heard from her besides routine holiday and birthday greetings.

she told him everything. about how they had reconnected out of the blue, and how he called her every night to say sweet dreams. her voice was excited when she spoke of charles, she sounded happy. she told him that she didn’t want things to be weird, but that she felt that he should know. and though max said it was okay, he wasn’t sure then.

he said it was okay because she was honest, that she had the decency to give him a warning rather than letting him find out through some post online. he said it was okay because it’s charles, he’s a good guy— and it’s her, she deserved to be happy.

he wasn’t sure till he saw her in monaco again, sporting that bright scarlett red in support of her new boyfriend. he saw the way her eyes lit up, the smile gracing her painted lips when he speaks. not even on their best days did max ever see her look up at him like that. it stung, another shot at his ego.

there was a little bit of resentment for charles, max admits. he would compare himself to the monegasque, pick apart his character in his head. they aren’t all that different. both driven, both competitive, both good at what they do. but he was just better at loving you.

“but it didn’t sting all the time.” max tries to round up his story, “i got over it eventually, i moved on.”

“no animosty between you and him?”

max shakes his head, “no no, nothing like that. how could i be mad? he’s a good guy. plus, i like them together. he made her happy. and i like seeing her happy, it suits her.”

“you still love her, don’t you?” nana’s smile is sad, almost pitiful, as she watches the way max stares up at her.

he doesn’t hestitate to nod, “yeah, i think i always will. she’s my first love, and there really is no getting over something as great as that.”

“how did you hear?”

the nostalgic smile falls from his face. “charles called. didn’t think too much of it, we talk sometimes, try to get dinner with some of the other people we work with. but then he said it… to be honest i still haven’t really processed it.”

“it takes time dear.”

“how much time?”

nana shrugs, her small hand coming up to pat his shoulder. “i wish i knew son, i wish i knew.”

he nods, trying to ignore the way hopelessness picks at his heart. “i uh… i’m gonna go say hi.”

she shoos him off, and max stands. he feels out of place, like he doesn’t belong. nobody spares him a second look as he walk to the front of the room. he wonders if everyone was reminiscing the same way he just was, thinking of all the greatest moments spent with her.

charles opens and extends his arms towards max when he spots him getting closer. they hug each other tightly, firm pats on the back. and when they pull away, they reflect the other: bloodshot eyes and sad smiles.

“i’m so sorry for your loss mate.” max mumbles.

charles sniffles, running a tissue under his nose, “glad you could make it, she would’ve been happy to see you came.”

max turns towards her smile, immortalized in a frame forever. his eyes burn with tears, but he doesn’t try to stop them this time. he lets them fall onto his cheeks, for the first time since finding out, he allows himself to grieve. he grieves for all the good times and bad, he grieves for what was and what could’ve been. he grieves you for the second time in his life, this time forever.

note: i know i have reqs & wips waiting for me. but i needed to get this out of my system. the itch has been scratched.

wanna be notified for new releases?

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fanfic

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loonylooly · 1 year

Text

at this point i'm wondering what sarah is thinking when writing her love interests, like ok it's clear she finds them hot but like....are they good people

Rhys:

UTM lap dance shenanigans

throwing Feyre into danger constantly (Weaver, destroying cauldron, getting the book from Adriata, etc etc)

Still not doing jack shit about wing clippings in Illyria?? Emerie is right there, Rhysand, go enforce your damn laws

Insulting his wife's sister constantly

Almost killed his wife's sister cause she dared give her important medical information

Locked Lucien (MY BOY!!) in the house of wind

Locked Nesta in the house of wind

Didn't give Mor any warning that time he made her face her abusers and she cried i think (ngl i forgot most of it)

Ignoring Hewn City even tho...Kier is like the only bad guy we've seen from there?? Surely there's decent people in Hewn City, don't gotta make everyone suffer

Nesta windhaven kidnapping intervention so she stops spending Rhys' money (if it was really about her own sake, they would've put a stop to it much earlier)

Seemingly alienates everyone in Feyre's life that could and would stand up to Rhys for Feyre's sake. Lucien? Nah, shoo. Nesta? Nah, shoo. Weird thought but Tarquin? Yeah, makes her steal his book.

And last but DEFINITELY not least; demon baby wife death

HE COULD'VE TOLD FEYRE... OR ATLEAST NOT THREATENED TO KILL HER SISTER FOR TELLING HER WHEN HE HOULD'VE TOLD HER IN THE FIRST PLACE??

THERE'S PROBABLY MORE BUT MOVING ON

Cassian:

Barely ever stands up for Nesta in the IC

Aids in kidnapping Nesta to Windhaven so she stops spending whysand's money

Laughs at Nesta when she falls down the stairs

Aids in punishing Nesta for daring to tell Feyre important medical info

Constantly going agaisnt Nesta's wishes and trying to "save her" when she doesn't want him to

That one time Azriel asked Nesta if Cass had pushed her down the stairs...Like are we gonna ignore that?? Personally I'd have a quarter life crisis if my closest friend, who is like my sibling and has known me most of our lives, seriously entertained the idea that i would physically assault the girl I like

general aggressiveness all of ACOSF

aids in bulldozing Nesta's apartment

Rowan goddamn Whitehorn (Who I've yet to see people bashing him somehow,,, HoF rowan was like if ACOSF cassian had a horrific murder baby

Left his pregnant mate alone during a war cause he wanted to prove himself....like..idk man if i had the choice between war and taking care of my pregnant wife i'd pick the wife (did he know she was pregnant? i've kind of forgotten by now)

Rowan's kid would've been hundreds of years older than Aelin.....just think abt that

Literally everything he did to Aelin during training in HoF

Their argument where he PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE

Threatened to whip Aelin...I repeat....Threatened to whip Aelin, an ex-slave....

Told Aelin it'd be better if she died 10 years ago (unprovoked?? bitch you met her like 2 weeks ago just cause she's getting on your nerves doesn't mean you gotta wish DEATH upon her)

Literally was relieved to find out she was only 19 because if she was a few years older she could've been THE CHILD OF HIS BEST FRIEND.

No issue with marrying the cousin of his best friend's child....Imagine if he hadn't met Aelin first.. If he'd met Aedion first, Aelin would've always been the relative of his friend's son to him

FOR THE RECORD i hate all of the SJM age gaps but rowan and aelin's specifically irks me because Aelin LITERALLY CALLS HIM OLD throughout the WHOLE SERIES

Literally tells Aelin he doesn't care about what she's been through and that she is nothing to him after she confronts him for leaving her

Puts Luca in danger by sticking him on to a frozen lake with a monster inside where he'll DIE if Aelin can't save him

Funnily enough, some of the only seemingly decent person guys in SJM 1. Are completely forgotten about in the books or 2. SJM had to make them violently unlikeable

Like we've got:

Tarquin, seemed like a pretty good guy, rightfully pissed that the IC stole his family heirloom, shows up like twice in the books (LET HIM COME BACK SARAH I LOVE HIM)

Tamlin, was pretty decent in book 1, was made violently unlikeable in book 2 onwards

Chaol, very strong morals, generally a good person, loves his wife, made violently unlikeable and boring in late CoM, HoF, and QoS (ToD is one of my favorite books in the series, will praise ToD till the day I die, my boy EARNED his own book)

Aedion, seemed like a good person, strong morals, spent years trading his dignity for the sake of Terrasen, loved his cousin above all else, made violently unlikable in KoA (even tho I think he was justified in being angry about it, i'd be SO pissed)

Sartaq, good guy, strong morals, Nesryn's chapters were some of my favorites in ToD, Sartaq is one of my favorite SJM love interests, i'll never forgive author lady for forgetting about him in KoA (tho i guess she forgot about everyone from ToD? Yrene and Chaol are the only important ones, she barely even mentions Nesryn even though Nesryn's BEEN an integral part of the gang since QoS, giving her the Suki from ATLA treatment)

#acotar #sjm #sarah j maas #throne of glass #tog #anti rhysand #anti rowan #anti cassian #anti nessian #anti feysand #chaol westfall #sartaq #tarquin #tamlin #aedion ashryver #nesta deserves better

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bonefall · 10 months

Note

I'm sitting and looking at somebody's take about the scene of Willow Tail's death

"Clear Sky is fabulous here, and the deaths look karmic. Willow Tail dies blind bc she was so blinded by her wish of revenge she put innocent cats under threat and led to deaths of a medicine cat and an innocent kit. And Wind Runner, who prevented Moth Flight from saving Tiny Branch, lost a life to an injured leg just like he did. Beautiful."

Ig I'll just leave it here like a tribute

"the deaths look karmic" is the only correct thing in this passage. Yes, the writers ARE obsessed with punishing women, gruesomely zooming in on how much pain and suffering they're feeling when those horrible bitches finally get their comeuppance. Glad they can at least recognize torture porn when they see it.

Go one baby step further-- why do the writers keep choosing to frame the women as primarily responsible when Clear Sky is the same violent, egotistical tyrant he always was?

Willow Tail does die blinded-- by Clear Sky. The way he is constantly brutalizing every woman and foreigner in front of him. Just like how he was smacking Moth Flight before he ordered Red Claw to go up into the tree to beat the shit out of Micah and confiscate medicine, because he doesn't care when people die of treatable illness.

But, sure. Sure, it's Willow Tail who caused the death of Micah, when she sees Moth Flight's face sliced open by a known serial murderer and jumps to her defense, and then learns that Red Claw has been ordered to attack a doctor.

For those who haven't read Moth Flight's Vision, btw, Willow Tail is revealed to be the villain all along because she was planting rabbit bones on the border. This made Clear Sky mad because Wind Runner said "make your cats respect the borders YOU invented, bc MY cats didn't eat those rabbits" and she didn't just accept his answer of "nuh uh."

That's why it's totally the WOMEN'S fault that Clear Sky was throwing this tantrum, and not his own. Being offended is a totally valid reason to deny medical treatment and do assault and battery. Why would you ever hold a man in a position of power accountable for his own actions?

Wind Runner also didn't kill Tiny Branch through medical neglect. Clear Sky did. Can't believe I'm still saying this.

HE was the one who prevented Acorn Fur from getting help. He keeps insisting that he never needed Micah or any other foreigner to heal Tiny Branch's ailments. He didn't want Micah when it was a cough, and he didn't want Moth Flight when it was a fox attack.

-Said in the Sap Confiscation Scene

-Said as Tiny Branch is dying, confirming that yes, he DID stop her from getting the help right away.

Wind Runner PROPOSED an embargo at a meeting that SkyClan was absent for, AFTER Clear Sky had already insisted on denying medical treatment to Rocky and got Micah killed. Wind Runner's hypothetical embargo was broken less than a minute later when it's revealed SkyClan was late by several hours because Tiny Branch got attacked by a fox.

Here's how long they're held up by Wind Runner, though. All 214 words, less than a full page in dialogue, of it.

How long would you guess this took? Was everyone here speaking at 0.025 speed? Did someone hit the slow motion button? Were they escaping out of a time bubble?

Why's Shattered Ice never mentioned as killing Tiny Branch, btw? The one who actually did physically hold up Moth Flight (but not the other three Medicine cats, Dappled Pelt, Cloud Spots, and Pebble Heart), even if it was for less than 30 seconds? When he's not even from Wind Runner's Clan? CURIOUS INNIT?

I need to remind you that he was also responsible for preventing Acorn Fur from being fully trained. That was HIS choice. HE closed the border. HE stopped Moth Flight from completing Acorn Fur's training. HE is in the middle of a book-length hissy fit about being told what to do.

And, yet, Moth Flight is held up for less than 5 minutes after Clear Sky forced Acorn Fur to save his son alone until signs of infection set in, and this is all Wind Runner's fault.

So he later kidnaps Moth Flight, expecting Wind Runner to just trust that THIS time he takes a hostage he's not starving them like he did to Jackdaw's Cry, and not launch the two Clans into war. Redemption arc, btw.

And then he gets to be framed like a hero even though he is 100% responsible for every single one of his actions and escalated the situation at every turn. ZERO consequences for him, because him letting his own baby suffer and die was "punishment enough."

The bloodthirsty tyrant, child abuser, woman beater, and known liar was totally justified because It Made Him Sad When Wind Runner Didn't Trust His Word :( This was all actually an evil, scheming woman's fault for planting bunny bones, lol. So she totally deserves getting her eyes ripped out.

At MOST, the narrative considers Wind Runner and Clear Sky "Equally Bad", but only Wind Runner and Willow Tail get personally punished. With death and agony. Surely, SURELY this is not because of writer misogyny? In the Arc of 7 Fridgenings? Perish the thought.

Anyway, glad that I've curated my dash enough to not see that take out there in the wild. Who would even write something so ridiculous, Gray Wing?

#bone babble #warrior cats analysis #Clear Sky #Moth Flight's Vision #DOTC hate #Willow Tail #Anyway everyone it is now our job to be as annoying as possible and stan Willow Tail at all costs #Willow Tail Did Nothing Wrong legion rise up #cw misogyny #seriously though. fucking BUNNY BONES???#BUNNY #BONES

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lemonlover1110 · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭

Satoru Gojo & Suguru Getou

[Chapter 8] After Dinner

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader x Suguru Getou

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When Satoru and Utahime finally step out of the house, you slam the front door shut. You begin to walk to your room, and your husband can tell that you’re pissed at him. It’s not like you’re trying to hide it. Suguru follows behind you, thinking of what to say.

“Honey… Don’t be mad at me, please.” He begins, raising his voice so he makes sure that you hear him. Apparently you don’t hear him, or well, at least you ignore him. You get to the bedroom and you slam the door shut, right in his face. The man should’ve known better, this isn’t the first time you throw a tantrum over one of his comments. He opens the door and barges into the room, “I know that you’re upset, but don’t you ever slam the door in my face again.”

“Or what?” Your voice reveals your annoyance, and the man has to take a deep breath to compose himself. Or nothing. He’s not going to do anything. At this moment he realizes how much he’s spoiled you. “Leave me alone, Suguru. Go back to work so you can cover my next shopping spree.”

“Honey… I’m sorry. I admit it was my fault. I shouldn’t have said that.” Suguru says, hoping that his apology will calm you down, but it doesn’t seem to help.

“And you had me apologize to Satoru’s stupid toy?! You’re a son of a bitch.” You yell, trying your best to not make things worse by grabbing objects and throwing them around. You focus on getting undressed.

“You have an attitude problem…” He mutters, but you hear him loud and clear. You roll your eyes while you bite your tongue, knowing that if you have nothing nice to say, it’s best not to say it. Maybe you don’t care too much about being nice, but you know that if you don’t stop yourself, you’ll start throwing stuff at your husband. “You don’t want her to think that you’re a bitch, no? You want her to think that you’re better than her.”

“No, I want her to know that I’m a bitch so she’ll know not to cross me.” You answer, and he sighs. He takes a seat on his side of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. “She needs to know when to mind her own business.”

“You’re only mad because she sided with me and not you.” He points out while you walk to the dresser to get your pajamas. You scoff.

“You wouldn’t be defending her if she sided with me. But since she’s so right, you can go fuck her and sleep next to her.” You nonchalantly say, as if the words that leave your lips mean nothing. You put on your pajamas and walk to your bed, laying down.

“Can’t you just admit that you’re wrong? It’s not like I’ll laugh at you.” Suguru says, and your blood is boiling. You sit up on the bed and glare at him, and he feels it as if you’re shooting daggers. “What?”

“You’re so right, Suguru. You should spend more time working so I can finally decide to start an affair.” You respond and it makes Suguru turn to look at you. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he glares at you. You stand up and begin to go to the bathroom, and your husband stands up as well. “What?”

“You don’t mean that, right?” He questions, and you slightly tilt your head to the side. You end up chuckling before you shake your head, acting as if his best friend wasn’t eating you out an hour ago. “Swear to me that you’ll never have an affair.”

“Why are you so scared?” You question, believing that he’s having an affair of his own. His hand grips your arm, and you see the anger that seethes his eyes. You cry out, telling him, “Suguru, you’re hurting me. Let go.”

“Swear to me that you’ll never cheat on me.” He orders, his voice stern. “Sweat to me that you won’t ever cheat on me. That you won’t look at another man with impure thoughts. That you'll remain faithful to me and only me.”

“Let go of me, Suguru.” You tell him, trying to push him away but he doesn’t let go. “I swear I will never cheat on you!”

“Good.” He lets go of your arm. He kisses your cheek, then his lips go up to your ear. “You had me scared for a second. When you stepped in, I was relieved. You took way too long with Satoru.”

“You’re absurd, Suguru. You really don’t believe in your own best friend?” You respond, feeling a cold sweat covering your body but you manage to mask your fear. You end up rolling your eyes, “Not even your own wife, nonetheless.”

“I believe in you. That’s why I didn’t prohibit you from being alone with each other, because if I thought otherwise, you two wouldn’t even be able to look at each other.” He says, and you bite your bottom lip as you come to the realization that your husband is more jealous than you thought.

“You don’t have to worry about me having an affair.” You try to conceal your nerves, and you do a great job at it. He kisses your cheek again, and his lips are once again on your ear.

“Good. Because if I find out otherwise, I might just kill you.” You manage to push him away and you strike his cheek.

“What the hell is wrong with you? What kind of shit is that to say to your fucking wife? You’ve lost your fucking mind, Suguru.” You push him away and slam the bathroom door shut. You’re completely sure that he’s lost his mind.

It’s something that you’ve never noticed before. Sure, he’s gotten jealous, but it’s normal jealousy that you experience as well. But what he said is far from normal jealousy.

The next morning, your husband is surprisingly home, and he’s not working from home. You used to hope for a day like this, where he finally decided to stay home, and not because he has some sort of event later in the day. Yet you don’t want to talk to him. After what he said, you refused to talk to him for the rest of the night, even when he tried to initiate something with you.

“Good morning, honey.” Suguru greets you, but you don’t respond. You walk past him and head to the kitchen to refill your water bottle. He follows behind you while you refill and drink from your water. He watches you, deciding what he should say. “C’mon, talk to me.”

Instead of making a snarky remark, you stay quiet and look in the fridge for your breakfast. You told the maid to have some fruit salad for you prepared, and luckily enough, she listened.

“You can’t be that mad. If you know you won’t cheat–” He begins and you cut him off as you put the container down on the counter.

“Get it through your thick skull: you don’t ever threaten your wife to kill her. What kind of psycho are you?” You question. “When you’re fucking sticking it in your se–”

“I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean that. I was just…” He interrupts you before you can finish your sentence, and while you don’t like it when you’re interrupted, you appreciate it this time. “I’m sorry. I just got really jealous.”

He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you from behind. He kisses your cheek. “I’m so sorry, baby. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“It’s getting really hard to believe you.” You respond. You push his arms away and begin to walk away from him, leaving your breakfast untouched. But he grabs your arm and stops you. He takes a couple of steps towards you to close the bit of distance that you’ve created, before he picks you up and sits you down on the kitchen island.

“What can I do for you to forgive me?” He asks, his hand caressing your cheek. You bite down your bottom lip, thinking of what he can buy.

“I was thinking… Maybe you can take some time off. We can go to another country and vacation together…” You suggest, and he smiles before nodding in response.

“Maybe we can initiate expanding our family.” He suggests and you push him away, rolling your eyes.

“I thought I made it very clear that we’re not having kids.” You respond. It’s not something that’s new. You’ve never wanted kids and now that your husband isn’t around as much, you want them even less. “Ugh, you’ve killed my mood. Just buy me another stupid necklace and I’ll forgive you.”

“We should talk more about the kids…” He tells you, making you roll your eyes again. You get off the island and begin to walk away. You decide that you’ll ignore him, until you come to a stop and turn to look at him.

“I’m not going to change my mind about having kids. We discussed this before getting married. Get your shit together.” You say and begin to walk away again, but you come to a stop once again, “Also make sure you get a decent necklace this time. One that’s more expensive than the last one.”

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